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Day 6, August 4th, Wednesday: Tsusiat Falls to Michigan Creek, 13 km in 7 hr 20 min, low Tide 12:15 (1.2m)
Map of Day 6 (click to enlarge) The day began and ended in fog and wet mist. Rick and most of the group were up at 6 am. Rick feared Warren and Sandy had died in their tent, as there was a total absence of movement from within. However, at 7:00 am, Warren crawled from his tent to embrace a brand new day. Breakfast was Rick’s English Meusli with warm lumpy milk. Warren missed out on the Meusli, but did have some of the leftover cold, lumpy milk for his coffee. Many people began the long hike to the bathroom. Once there, Joan and Sandy threatened to throttle a woman who stood in line just for the view and to take pictures of the inside of the outhouse. To this day, Joan still grumbles about the woman who said “I don’t really have to go, but maybe if I sit down awhile...”. We left camp at approximately 8:30am. An agreed upon mutiny has resulted in Cheryl and Jeff staying behind. The climb out of Tsusiat was painful for all, but even more so for Joan, who arrived at the top contemplating suicide. Apparently, her pack was digging into her “bump”. Warren managed to adjust her pack so that it put pressure somewhere else. The result was instantaneous relief and archangel status for Warren. After crossing the bridge, Rick attempted to dangle his feet over the top of the falls.
Rick on the lip, in the fog. Between Tsusiat Falls and the Klanawa River the trail is all inland with many ups and downs, some long, some short. The occasional views of the ocean provided spectacular scenery. A pleasant hike through the woods it was.
Rick and Chris in the woods, in the fog. At Klanawa we took another cable car ride since the water looked high and wide. Also because the cable cars are fun. This one required a lot more effort than the previous ones, especially pulling the cable car up to the platform at the end. Chris took a photo, and then complained that Rick and Warren weren’t pulling their weight.
Bill and Joan zinging across the Klanawa cable car. A short trail length later, we wandered into the Klanawa campsite, watched a marten trotting along on a log and then continued along the beach to Trestle Creek. On advice from other hikers, Bill sent the rest of our crew up a very difficult beach access and trail section. Much to Bill’s surprise, everyone reappeared, twelve feet in the air, descending down a long log over the creek. This meant that all of us, in addition to having just done a difficult section of the trail, still had to the very difficult section about which Bill had just been warned.
Warren appears on the log... All accepted this with much better than expected humour. The trail came then climbed steeply up a long muddy section. Rick completed the amusement with a Full Turtle less than ten seconds into the climb.
Rick turtles while Warren giggles from behind. The trail from Trestle Creek to Tsocowis Creek was all inland. An easy hike and along this section we were rewarded with spectacular views from the Valencia Bluffs, another old donkey engine and then a grader. A stroll past the “Chicken Coop” reminded us of Rick’s old house back in Saskatoon. We crossed the swinging bridge across Tscowis Creek.
Joan looks down Tscowis Creek and the falls. Then, with everyone still feeling quite good, we went down the steep path to the bottom of Tsocowis creek for a warm lunch (we had been in fog all day).
Looking at the falls and bridge through the fog. We started up the stoves for a hot soup lunch (Rick shared his 4 (!!) extra packets of Ramen noodles with the unwashed masses). Warren and Chris explored the falls. The pool at the bottom of the falls had lots of floating driftwood, so Warren did a lumberjack dance on them, while Chris chattered from the sidelines “Don’t do it. You’re stupid.” We then continued along the beach. The sand, which was really gravel, was not made for walking. Either the tide was too high, or too low, or the beach just sucked for walking. We did a brief stint on the sand and then Joan rebelled, and stated that she was going inland. We make a group decision and follow her inland.
The buoys made this one a really obvious beach access. The inland trail also sucked. It was not heavily used (most people use the beach route), was narrow and went up and down way too much.
Warren eating trail mix while waiting for stragglers. The wind came up and made the hiking cool. Sandy conducted secret talks at the back of the group, and convinced the tailenders to head back down to the beach. Warren followed, protesting all the way. This resulted in another split, half on the beach, half on the trail. Warren explained to Sandy that this was not how a group functioned: it was not kosher to sneak off from the back, and just do your own thing. Sandy agreed that this was the second time she had done this evil deed, and promised to never do it again. Much to Bill’s surprise, the group was finally reunited at Darling River where the trail becomes one with the beach: the front half of the group didn’t even know we had split up into two groups. Wandering along the beach we passed another cave.
This cave could be a great refuge from the rain. Then it was an easy 2km jaunt along the beach to Michigan creek. Well, not so much beach as sandstone shelf. Sandstone shelf is very hikeable as long as the waves aren’t washing over it. The shelf was extra slippery with 3/4 of an inch of water and seaweed.
Slick seaweed. In this case, even with tide coming in, it was an ideal place to cover some kilometers. We found the boiler from the wreck of the steamer “Michigan” on the shelf and as Bill sprinted around the far side for a photo opportunity, we noticed the thousands of sea gulls, sitting on the shelf just ahead of us.
Naturally, we all put our hats on, and walked directly into the flock. Luckily, we were taller than the average seagull, and they avoided flying over us. We all made it out clean (some more than others as will be seen soon!)
Warren in among the gulls. The Dutch couple (met them over and over again too!) had thoughtfully left us the large campsite, while they hid around the corner. They even made sure that we stayed there by pointing it out to Bill, and saying it was the best site. We setup up camp and then sat down to watch Rick, a late arriver this day, play among the seagulls. He was doing his “Moses parting the seagulls” act. Eventually the incoming high tide caught up to him, and he started searching for the best way back to shore. A few seconds later, he slipped and presented us with a full turtle in 6 inches of water. While in the turtle position he was still relatively dry. But instead of waiting the 10 minutes or so for a rescue, panic set in and he figured he had better get up quickly. The only option available to him was to roll over onto his side. Yes, straight down into 6 inches of wet, yucky, scummy (and probably seagull shitty) water. A wet, stunned and somewhat injured Rick finally crawled ashore and retired to his tent to recover. The Dutch couple sighted a bear around the other side of the bay and were foolish enough to come over and tell us about it. They then asked us if it was okay for them to hang their food bag over Warren’s tent. Warren said “OK”. Some time later, Rick came alive and conducted the sea gulls in a symphony of flight and stupidity. Once he realized what simple creatures birds were, Rick changed his mind about being reincarnated as a bird.
Warren did supper, glad to finally get rid of the weight of his evening meal. The Indian Keema supper was wonderful and filling; we sat and ate while watching the whales feeding just offshore, near the kelp beds. Many blows and a couple of rewarding tails were seen. There was too much food. More so since we had left our big eaters at Tsusiat Falls (Sheryl and Jeff). Sandy took the leftovers and placed them on a rock for the seagulls. The women played scrabble with Chris, while Bill read, Rick slept and Warren took everything out of his pack for a photo. A sponge bath was taken by most, some in full view, some not. Once again, Bill scared Sandy and Dana during his bath. This had become pretty much of a daily event. Some very clean and tentative (they crawled rather than walked across the log over the creek) hikers passed by our campsite, so Warren went out to greet them. The two young girls didn’t quite know what to say when Warren accused their pack rain covers as being “a little excessive”, especially in the light of the fact that we had yet to see rain. But they took it all in stride, smiled and continued along the beach. Our campsite was set back in the trees with an excellent cooking area and out of the wind. The outhouse on the other side of the creek came equipped with $80 North Face shit wiping gloves (they turned out to be Chris’s).
A bank of thick fog could be seen streaming out of Pachena Bay but it wasn’t blown on to us at Michigan Creek. All in all it was a very relaxing evening. We were a little worried about making good enough time on the hike the next day. Overall, our speed on the trails was only impressive in how long it took us to get anywhere. Based on ALL our previous days hiking, it was not going to be easy for us to make it to Bamfield by 2:00 pm, for our reserved water taxi voyage. |
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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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