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Day 5, August 3rd, Tuesday: Cribbs Creek to Tsusiat Falls, 16 km in 9.5 hours, Low Tide 11:25 (0.9m)
Map of Day 5 (click to enlarge) Breakfast at 7:30 was instant oatmeal by Dana and Chris. All the clothing on the line may have dried overnight, but if it had, the morning mist had soaked it again anyways.
The sun hits our campfire smoke. Warren used the fire to dry his hiking clothes for the day. It was dramatic watching the steam/water vapour flowing out of clothing dangled a foot or so from the fire. The sun came out and it looked to be a beautiful day, but fog was just around the corner. At 8:40 we left camp and crossed the log bridge across Cribbs Creek. We then clambered up onto the Cribbs Breakwater and headed for the point.
From the Cribbs, looking back at our campsite, with the fog rolling in. Some sections of the Cribbs had the waves rushing through underground and appearing on the beach out of nowhere. We rounded the point and stepped into the fog and the campsite disappeared from view.
Into the fog. Bill provided a display of using the intertidal flush but was somewhat overzealous and was forced to abandon his first position as the rising tide splashed his butt.
Intertidal flush? The sun came out occasionally but was only barely visible through the fog and clouds. We were forced inland prior to Dare Point as a small shelf used to traverse the surge channel had been broken away. The rangers had warned us about this one but Warren was tempted anyways. Eventually, clearer heads prevailed.
The Olympians at the "unpassable" (?) surge channel. We all headed inland at that point intending to return to the beach at the first opportunity. Once having hiked some of the inland trail again, half the group decided it was pleasanter, so the group split into an inland group and a beach group.
Chris and Dana on a viewpoint, the edge of a 100 foot cliff. At km 37 (after 2.5 hours on the sand and 1/2 hour on trail), the inland group stopped for a meal break at the club 37-beach resort. Rick felt that the beach group should be informed of this decision, dropped his pack and ran off to try and persuade the beach group to join them. The beach group was reluctant to stop so soon but ended up caving in for coffee, pancakes, burgers, coffee, grilled cheese (plus an outhouse). Since the inland group had already ordered their food, all were going to have to wait until the eating was done anyways.
A second breakfast (?) at the 37km Club. Elaine and Bill refrained from this display of commerce blighting the scenery and retired to the beach. Finally, the group was once again reunited and up and moving again along the beach. Again, we were forced inland, this time to cross reservation land and the Cheewhat River. The suspension bridge across the Cheewhat and lots of boardwalk make this section a quick and easy hike. Sometimes it was a little tedious as we seemed to be walking along the bottom of a deep ditch, bordered by thick impenetrible hedges.
River otter tracks under the Cheewhat suspension bridge.
Warren stumbles along a crumbling boardwalk. Everyone was pleased to arrive at Nitinat Narrows and Carl Edgar Jr.’s ferry ride across the river. Carl provided beer and soft drinks for all.
The group, clockwise from bottom left: Jeff, Sheryl, Chris, Carl, Warren, Joan, Bill, Rick, Elaine, Dana and Sandy. At this point, Dana thought that she might be slowing the group down too much, and attempted to abandon us. She was finally convinced that she wasn’t slowing us down, and that we could deal with it. Joan, Sandy, Rick and Chris all buy a crab each, which Carl pulled from a pot right by the dock. He also took us for an extended tour down stream to show us the river, where his summer home is, a river otter, a harbour seal and the mouth of the river. In response to Warren’s question about why the reservations seem so small and separated, he gives us a small history of the Hudson Bay Company, their survey methods, his family, salmon in the river, whales, the sandbars across the mouth and how to pronouce DiTiDaht??? (Deee-Teee-Daaht-?? The ?? sounds like Bart Simson being choked by Homer.) As an aside, did you know the Tsusiat means “falls”, and therefore it is kind of stupid to say “Tsusiat Falls”? It was a great ride and everyone enjoyed Carl, even the Stoners from Quebec (another pair that we seemed to blunder into over and over again).
Warren teases Sandy's crab.
Chris, thrilled to have a beer on the trail. However, from that point on, the hiking seemed to drag on and on. The trail itself was okay but everyone was very tired. The views from the trail around Tsuquadra Pt were wonderful.
Jeff helps Sheryl up a rooty section. The group was forced down to the beach so that we would have a chance to see Tsuquadra Cave. We found lots of secluded beaches and rocky cliffs. We even found a dead whale on the beach but now no-one was hungry.
Better to stay upwind of this whale! Just as people were starting to mutiny (some wanted to get back on the inland trails, while others found the “beach boogie” easier), we reread the books and noticed that Tsuquadra Cave was inland on the trail, and the we might have already have missed it. But, we were lucky and found the cave immediately upon getting back onto the trail. The cave didn’t look all that attractive, but undoubtably we would have had a very different opinion in the pouring rain.
Rick hangs around Tsuquadra Cave. Rick found a rope to swing on, and we got some stupid pictures of him. Not a lot of reactions from the group as most were on autopilot. “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” was still out of the question. Joan decided that she was only willing to hike on the inland trail, so the group said “Okay” and headed inland (Bill and several others who would have prefered to walk on the beach were outvoted). However, the inland trail was quickly discovered to be more difficult than the easy boardwalk jaunt we had come to expect. The back of the group, Rick and Sandy bailed out, and returned to the beach.
Sandy and Rick snuck back down to the beach. The rest of the trail crew suffered and hiked up over a headland, along rough trail and then down long ladders to Tsusiat Falls. The “Beacher Combers” (Rick and Sandy) arrived well before trail crew and in much better shape.
Joan heads down the ladders to Tsusiat Falls. It was very windy and crowded at Tsusiat falls, but we found a bunch of driftwood, right at the bottom of the ladders where we were able to set up as a group. This was fortunate because no-one was going to walk anymore anyways. Our camp was nestled deep in the logs and Warren was particularly proud having found a spot that only his tent could fit in!
Warren's tent, between 2 logs and under a third. We then setup an eating tarp, mostly so that we could eat dinner sheltered from the wind. The wind also made bathing out of the question, for all of us. The cooking was done in the wind shadow of some big logs. Elaine cooked up a storm and made Tandoori glop. We discovered a worrying lump on Joan’s back. All the health care professionals were consulted, but to no avail. Tsusiat Falls themselves were neat. Unfortunately, we were all too burned out to appreciate the spectacle.
Tsusiat Falls, our camp is buried somewhare in those logs.
Rick meditating? We huddled under the eating tarp and scarfed down our rations. Warren went back for thirds...
Eating dinner, huddled in our wind shelter. The crab eaters now crawled out of the woodwork. Joan cooked her crab first, dropping it into our biggest pot full of boiling water.
Joan and her crabs. She had to stuff it down, and then hold the lid on to make sure the huge crab was held under the boiling water. As soon as it was ready, she entered the CrabZone... She eventually came up for a breath of air once the crab was nothing but a shell of its former self. Others then cooked their crabs. Sandy begged for and then got Warren’s knife (with pliers!) to crack open her crab. Afterwards she was unable to remove the crab stench from the knife, thus turning Warren into official bear bait. Rick and Jeff found it necessary to ask Joan for crab eating instructions. It was a very messy affair. However, the crew was somewhat revived. Apparently, the outhouse was a long way down the beach but well worth the trip, being decorated with all sorts of washed up items. Other people (NOT US) were seen taking photos of it, both inside and out. However, a stud muffin near the loo made the trip for Les Femme even more worth while. Rick perfected the disguised whale watch pee (standing on the beach, looking out to see, shading his eyes with the free hand). Fooled all of us. Warren and Bill allowed the others to watch them sponge bath themselves using hot water straight from a pot on the fire. Although both wear shorts, the groping within the shorts led to looks of disgust from the crowd. Sandy shrieked when she thought she saw her face washcloth disappearing into Warren’s shorts, but relaxed when she discovered that hers was still safe and sound in her toiletries kit. Warren had used his own groin-washing rag. At least Bill and Warren smelled good that night. No one else did. |
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Images with borders are thumbnails (click on them) Mail Me! warren.long@shaw.ca Warren's Hiking page is HERE Warren & Sandy's HomePage is HERE. |
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