wct04 - day zero

In August of 2004 a tradition was born: three men walked into the woods for a week of exploration. Now mind you the details of that tradition have changed somewhat from year to year. In '05 it was four of us that walked into the woods, and last year, though back to three, the woods weren't open yet, so we hung around a campsite and did day hikes. This year, again a bit of a change, the woods will be open but my body isn't ready for the weight of a pack and I'm lacking somewhat in stamina.

But this isn't about the year to come, or last year, it's about the first year. A daring year. A somewhat ambitious year, considering the hike chosen. And as you will read in the journal entry to follow, I was a hiker filled to the brim with trepidation. I knew one of my hiking partners as an acquaintance, and the other not at all. Greg was one of Meaghan's co-workers, and it was he who had always wanted to hike the West Coast Trail. He brought to the mix myself and Derek, a friend of his whose relationship dates back to high school.


(from left) Greg, Uncle Alfie and Derek wait at the Tsawassen ferry terminal for a lift to Vancouver Island. Alfie was kind enough to drive us from Vancouver to Port Renfrew where we would step onto the West Coast Trail at its southern trail head. Alfie hiked the West Coast Trail 25 years earlier on a whim, taking the place of a hiker who bailed on his group at the last minute. He was in his fifties then, hadn't conditioned his body for the hike, and survived just fine. Alfie's story was somewhat reassuring. But not totally.


The day started beautifully in Vancouver and our trip across Georgia Strait on the Queen of Saanich was all sun all the way. I think Alfie was diggin' it.

Weather is perhaps the single most important factor in determining the successful outcome of traversing the 75 kilometres of trail. A wet trip will make for falls, dunks, discomfort, and I suspect a degree of rage. Oh, and don't forget that despondent feeling that can hang over you like a cloud over Schleprock. Regardless of what the weather forecast said we could expect over the coming week, the Pacific is notorious for being completely uncooperative with weather prognostications. Upon our arrival in Port Renfrew and setting up of our tents clouds moved in, bringing with them fog. Not a good sign.


Derek and Greg walking along the beach. I'm looking at their foot placement now, especially Greg's(r), and I'm amazed they aren't tripping over themselves. Good grief, how did we survive the hike.

August 15, 2004

First day okay. Mind you we didn’t actually hit the trail yet. Fuck, I hope everything is okay. Meaghan says it will be, so it must be.

I miss Meaghan. That she is in Fredericton has been distance enough. But, now we’re incommunicado. What if I need her?

Really, I am actually nervous about tomorrow. The objective over the course of six days, is to cover 75km of trail while carrying 40 pounds of gear. Ouch. I am carrying everything that I need to survive 7 days in the woods, possibly longer.

40 pound pack? Maybe. That's one of the questions I've been asked many times: "how heavy is your pack when you go camping?" I don't have a clue. For the WCT I didn't want to know. Sometimes it's better that way. These days I'm curious, but I still feel I'm better off hiking in ignorance. Psychologically I can make the pack as light as the logical part of my mind will allow. Sometimes I wish I was a little less logical. I mean really, how heavy can it be?

This is not normal and likely I should have been preparing for this, physically. I’m not sure that my body will take the first day, let alone a week.

We’ll see. Tomorrow it begins. I'll stretch in the morning.

I distinctly remember leaning against the trail head sign in the morning and doing about five minutes of stretching while silently repeating to myself, 'you're not going to die, you're not going to die.'