wct04 - day four

Every day of hiking ended with a cup of Earl Grey.

August 19, 2004

As we set up our tents for the evening, Greg lamented that we have only one night left on the trail after this. Easy to understand, I feel the same way. But, I’m also starting to stink and it has been a while since I saw Meaghan last. I miss her.


Night falls on the beach at Klanawa River.

The nights, evenings and, more recently, the afternoons have proven to be relaxing and beautiful.

Last night the whole sunset extravaganza, right down to silhouetted couples strolling through the sunfire at the oceans edge, seemed scripted for a film. It was marvelous. Tonight, the fire and the stars stand out. Our first night is a distant memory ( I remember the sense on the first night, back at campers cove, of being a member of the walking wounded) and I can only lay back and relish the freshness of the evening.

My shoulders hurt for awhile today and later in the day it felt like my Achilles was starting to stiffen up. I took some calcium and we’ll see in the morning how my body feels. Both slowed me throughout the day. The additional weight of the water taken on at Nitinat Narrows didn’t help much.

I can hardly wait to see Meaghan. I think that she’ll be proud of me for completing the trail in one piece. That’s something that matters to me. I am glad, though, that I am away from her for a little while: it let’s me think about her more.

We skipped Tsutsiat Falls for camping. In fact we didn’t even go down to the beach to see what it was all about, I think mainly because I didn’t want to deal with the ladders. Besides, here come the sour grapes, it didn’t look like much from the trail anyway.


Klanawa River beach. We used a cable car to cross the Klanawa River.

We continued for another kilometer to the Klanawa River site instead. Tonight there is only one other group camping on the beach with us. In the early evening a couple of kayakers pulled their boats up the beach and pitched their tents 40 meters to the south. The solitude leads me to think that we decided well to forgo the crowded scenery of Tsutsiat Falls.

The crossing at Nitinat Narrows was full. This is one of my favourite photos from the trip.

At Nitinat Narrows the character and class of some of my fellow hikers was fully exposed. On the one hand there was a group of four or six women doing the hike. This was our first up close and personal with them, and for the rest of the trip we kept crossing each other's paths. I can't remember any details about them except they were perpetually cheery and lighthearted in their approach to the hike. One woman had flown from Nova Scotia for the hike.


Nitinat Narrows.

On the the other hand, there was a family of hikers that was a drag to be around- while boarding the boat I 'accidentally' stabbed the mother in the back with my walking pole. The red-headed daughter was impertinent and it seemed the mother was mentoring her in impertinence, as well as indignance and obnoxiousness. I remember on the last night watching in horror as the daughter, when asked to clean up after dinner, threw all the plastic meal bags on the fire. I wanted to brain her. Her father, whipped to the bone by his wife, puttered along the trail in a meek sort of daze, powerless to reign in the rest of the family.

'We skipped Tsutsiat Falls ... ' I was feeling a little weary when we came to the side trail that leads down to the beach and the falls. I didn't look at any websites or photoblogs about the WCT prior to doing the hike and didn't have any idea of how striking the falls are. Part of me wishes I had taken the time to go down to check them out, take a picture or two. But there were ladders to descend (and for every ladder down there's usually a ladder up,) and by this point I had had my fill of climbing up and down ladders. I learned later that because of its beauty Tsutsiat Falls is the most popular camping area on the trail and is usually quite crowded. In fact while we looked longingly down the path to the beach two groups of campers made their way down for the night. Our decision to spend the night mostly alone at Klanawa River was indeed a wise one.