The Iceland Saga Vol. 2 Laugavegur Trail
The first part of this series can be found here. Don’t forget to subscribe by entering your email on the right.
The day was young, the air was cold, the tent was wet… but that’s Iceland. A price that is well worth paying for an adventure. My nervous stomach was doing flips as we boarded the monster of a bus. Imagine a greyhound bus with oversized tires and a lift kit, that’s what I climbed onto shortly before sunrise. The bus made a few more stops to collect passengers. I watched out the window with interest as we turned off the pavement onto a dirt track. The trail itself wasn’t too terrible. It was soft sand, for the most part, but it was narrow and winding. The driver was clearly familiar because he was impatiently tailgating and honking at the slow-moving land rovers we crossed paths with. A few times we forded deep creeks that justified the tires on the bus. Eventually, we ended where we intended. We had made it to Landmannalaugar, now we just had to make it out.
When we first pulled in, my mind immediately thought of a refugee camp. It was raining, it was muddy, there were sad little tents everywhere and cold, wet people milling about. I immediately, and somewhat pointedly, crumpled this comparison and threw it in the trash bin in the back of my mind. These were tourists, here of their own accord, and I likely represented the poorest of the lot. There was a small shop that sold the basics, it was two old school buses pushed together and converted. I didn’t need anything so I didn’t bother going in. Just as well, the reputation of their prices preceded my arrival. Erin and I slipped into a communal cooking shelter and changed into our rain gear, as did several others. The rain was pretty steady at this point and I nearly ruined my trip before it started. I bent down to pick something up and managed to rip the front of my waterproof hiking pants. I thought I was going to have to hike the rain in soggy pants for 4 days. Luckily, Erin had some medical tape in her bag, surprisingly, that was sufficient to hold it together for the duration of the hike.
After a sufficient amount of stalling, on my part, we found the trailhead and started walking. The first bit of the hike was along the green valley floor, the trail was well worn in. Abruptly the trail stood on end, had it not been packed down and marked I would have assumed we hit the end. Up we went, then some more up… then some more… I didn’t know Iceland had this much up in it. The green shrubbery gave way to a rocky mountain top. The rain and wind picked up. Eventually, we lost most visibility, we walked through the misty fog barely able to see the next marker. The trail was occasionally dotted with cairns to help. Along the way, we passed a memorial dedicated to a young hiker who lost his life in a snowstorm in 2004. I place a rock on top of the growing pile at the memorial, and with a bit more solemn and introspective tone, I continued my hike. We arrived at the first campsite shortly after. It was still raining and windy and the campsites were all quite rocky. It was also only about 2 in the afternoon. We had some lunch, we ate what we called “SADwiches” they were a slice of ham and a slice of cheese in what tasted like a burnt compressed pita bun. Erin and I decided to press on to the next campsite which was only a few hours hike away and at a much lower altitude. We hoped by then the rain and wind would slow. As we pressed on, the landscape rolled us up and down deep and narrow drainages, passed shrubs, and then through the barren rocky land. At one point in our up and down and questionable ice bridge crossings, Erin noticed she didn’t have her phone. We then had to backtrack nearly a kilometer to find it. I told her, as punishment I would shame her on my blog. Eventually, we hit what felt like the edge of a mini-mountain range. The trail led down the side of one last little mountain and into a big open lowland. Down below we could see the land all had a gentle slope leading to a lake, we could see the campsite, Alftavatn, next to it. We made our way down and set-up camp. Luckily for us, the rain had nearly stopped, just the lightest drizzle and no wind as we set up. Every campsite had cabins, bathrooms, and showers. The showers were expensive and the cabins were only for those renting a bunk in them. Those of us who tented, congregated around the edges of the buildings, hoping the slight overhang of the roof would protect us from the rains that were inevitably coming. The remainder of the evening passed without a noteworthy event. We were ahead of schedule and I was plenty tired, sleep came easy.
Day two held a bit of everything, including a cold river crossing very early in the day. Immediately after the crossing was a long flat walk, it was on an open black plain surrounded, in the distance, by sparse mossy green hills. We eventually found ourselves in the mountains and crossing old volcanic terrain. I was beginning to feel a lot like a hobbit delivering jewelry. We reached our camp in the early afternoon. I purchased our camping permit while Erin used the washroom… We discussed it and we were both ok to press on to Thorsmork. I asked if a refund was possible, instead, they made a note on my permit that it would be valid at the next camp. We pressed on through the mountainous terrain. Eventually, the terrain became more treed and the rain began to pick up. I was beginning to regret not staying at the last campsite but we were well on our way to completing the Laugavegur trail in just 2 days. I finally hit my tipping point, every big trip beats me at some point. I always drag myself back up, but it still happens. In this case, we came down a hill in the rain to see a wide graveled flood plain. Narrow rivers spread like veins across the landscape. I was cold, exhausted, miserable, and starting to get vocal about it. Erin and I tried to hop from sandbar to sandbar but they all dead-ended eventually. Finally, we bit the bullet, in the cold rain, on the sharp rocks, we changed into our sandals to walk across the streams. Even that wasn’t easy as they were moving at an impressive pace. One miss step on slick rock or into a deep hole would send you tumbling down an icy stream, in this weather a soaked pack, and as a result, soaked bedding constitutes a literal emergency. We hit the far bank without incident. I sat on the bank shivered, dry heaved, and nearly cried. I don’t know if it was a panic attack but it sure felt like some kind of stress and exhaustion induced attack. For about five minutes I sat in the rain, with Erin casting a worried and unsure eye, and felt the absolute worst I have ever felt in my life, in every sense of the word. My stomach hurt from stress, my feet hurt from cold, my knees hurt from use, my head hurt from dehydration, my soul hurt from exhaustion. Slowly, I put myself together again. I took off my soaked sandals, wrung out my socks, slid them on and forced my boots into place. Things weren’t going to get better if I stayed sitting. It was time to go. We slung our packs and started walking. As luck would have it, it was calm trails through the trees all the way to nearby Thorsmork. We set up our tent and were thankful for the small communal tent they had set up for campers to cook in. We hung out gear to dry, cooked some supper and made tea to try and chase the cold from our bones. Words cannot describe the comfort one feels climbing into dry pajamas and a warm sleeping bag after a day like that. I took a deep whiff of fresh Icelandic air and I was asleep. We had just completed the Laugavegur trail in two days. In the morning we could catch a bus back to town or we could hike.
We had technically already completed the Laugavegur trail. The last leg was from Thorsmork to Skogafoss. This was the hardest part of the hike for me. I was already good and tired, physically and mentally. Then Iceland had a good sense of humor and threw some heights at me. The highlight of which was when I had to climb and drop down a few ledges, walk across a narrow peak, then climb back up another steep cliff and ledge combination with the assistance of a chain bolted to the side. While maneuvering the chain, my hiking poles, that were slung around my wrist, were doing their best to tangle between my legs. I looped my elbow around the chain, pulled the poles off my wrists, debated dropping them off the cliff, decided against littering, collapsed them and tucked them between my pack and my back. Once I completed the chain ordeal, I was rewarded with a nice steep hill to go straight up. I was glad I opted to keep the hiking poles. At some point we crossed between two large glaciers, over mountains, and crossed barren black volcanoes, the two youngest volcanoes in the world, I am told. Finally, we reached a river that would eventually feed Skogafoss. We walked along its edge, high above the water on more cliff edges. Every few hundred yards there was another spectacular waterfall. I knew we were getting close because I started to see people in increasingly casual clothing and good moods. Eventually, we reached the falls. The top of the falls, actually. It was crowded and spectacular. Erin took some photos and I stared, sore-footed and dead-eyed at the flights upon flights of metal stairs for us to climb down. As my stiff legs and sore knee carried me down the steps I overheard someone on the way up complaining about the stairs, I had just enough energy to stifle my laugh. Erin and I hit the bottom and hi-fived, lazily. We had just hiked 80km in 3 days. All we had to do now was figure out a ride back to Hella, where our car was parked.
We walked to the information center on the far side of the little town at the bottom of the falls. They were closed, so we went to the attached restaurant, they closed 10 minutes later… We walked to the nearest bus stop and tried to decipher the schedule, as best I could tell the next bus was coming at 9 am… in 3 days. We debated sleeping there, as there was a little campsite available. We sat down at a little picnic table next to some other hikers and gathered our tired and flustered thoughts. Just as Erin was digging out the ingredients for tea, the hikers said “hey, our bus is here” and as a holy apparition, there it was. We repacked our bags, fast, and ran over and asked if they had extra seats, they did. I don’t remember the price and even now, I don’t care. Half an hour or so later we were in our car. We drove to the nearest gas station and I bought a bacon-wrapped hot dog and other necessary supplies. We drove to our next campsite, Selfoss. While preparing a snack a girl at the table next to us told me we simply HAD to stay up to see the northern lights. I didn’t have the energy to stay up or to explain that I am quite spoiled here in Canada when it comes to aurora borealis. In fact, Erin and I saw them on our wedding night in the middle of Edmonton.
The following morning we went to see another waterfall, Gullfoss, truly a monster of a fall. All I remember was being tired and sore walking from the car to the viewing point. For lunch, we stopped at a little cafe and as luck would have it, they had thermal bread which was something I really wanted to try while I was there and seemed to be having trouble locating.
The final day we took our time getting to the airport, we stopped at the famous blue lagoon baths and had a look. It was nice to walk around, Erin grabbed a coffee and we were on our way. It was too crowded and far too expensive considering we had already gone into the hot springs at Myvatn. All that was left now, was to catch our flight home and sleep in a bed for the first time in a long time. On the flight home, I realized I had actually set a personal record, eleven consecutive days in a tent.
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The Iceland Saga Vol. 1
March 2019, Erin had a birthday. For many years leading up to this birthday, she had always expressed a desire to go to Iceland. I remember her talking about it back when we were in New Zealand. So, I worked as much overtime as I could for a few months leading up to her birthday. I lied and told her I wanted to save all my overtime for a new rifle or possibly a new vehicle. I told her she should probably save a bit too as our car was starting to act up. When her big day came, we were on a ski trip to Golden and went to a fancy restaurant. While Erin couldn’t hear, we told the waitress it was her birthday. She suggested we really surprise her and do cake first. We were shown to our seats, served our drinks, and had our orders taken. Shortly after the waitress came up, apologized and explained that the restaurant was build in a converted house that’s just over 100 years old. She further explained that they were having some electrical issues and needed to flip the breaker and shut the lights off for a moment. We all shrugged a “whatcanyoudo?” Suddenly, cake and candles rounded the corner. We were all surprised for some reason, but we quickly helped sing. Erin was handed her gifts and I gave her an Iceland guide book and wrote “let’s go here” on it. In a note, I explained that I saved money for the trip, and that was her gift. I then realized I had failed to plan the trip… so I guess it was half a gift…. classic men… get it together. Anyway, Erin and I (mostly Erin) planned the trip in short order and in late August we took to the air to get to the ice.
Our flight landed at 6 am local time. As our bus took us into town I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the landscape. It seemed little more than moss and rocks. It was beautiful but truly empty. We found our campsite and got settled in. Food and accommodations can be quite pricy in Iceland, so many people, like Erin and I, opt to bring a tent and camp the entire time. Our initial itinerary was to catch a bus to Landmannalaugaur (a hiking hub/basecamp) and hike the Laugavegur trail. We expected the hike to take 4 or 5 days. Then we would rent a car and explore the towns along the coast. BUT FIRST, I needed breakfast. Thanks to the conveniences of modern technology, my phone was able to point us to a bakery. We bought ourselves some ham and cheese-filled pastry, light and flakey like a croissant. Upon returning to our campsite we saw a severe weather warning for the hike we were intending to do. When it comes to changing plans and rolling with the punches Erin is a champ, and I tag along. Her plan was simple. We would flip our itinerary. Travel the coast first in a rental car and, time and weather permitting, do the hike at the end. We took the remainder of the day to explore Reykjavik, as blind luck would have it, there was a large cultural festival happening. Along the streets, there were theater-style plays, a rock concert, art installations, street vendors, and all the shops had sales on. I had fish and chips from a street vendor and they were amazing.
The following morning we went and retrieved our rental car. Turns out there was no issue picking it up a few days early. We tore down our camp and struck out west for adventure. We spent the day driving into the West Fjords. No small task, I must say. It was a long journey full of sharp twists and turns in the rain. All done heroically in a very small hatchback that was making some very troubling noises from one of the rear tires… glad I got the extra insurance. Along the way, we made several stops at roadside turnouts to see various craters and waterfalls. We eventually found a campsite we liked, in Isafjodur, unfortunately the weather left something to be desired. It was raining, still. We set up our tent and hid in the little common area to cook some supper. We chatted with the other campers and enjoyed the heater on full blast. We then went back to our tent and did something wild and new… we had snacks, in bed, in our tent. It was amazing, you simply cannot do that in Canada or you’ll be a snack for a bear, or wolf, or cougar, or some other large predator. To me, its the hardest part of camping, I love a midnight snack.
The next morning we decided to do a little hike. It was straight up from our campsite along a waterfall and actually crossed it a few times. It was a real hard push but the view at the top was well worth it. It was also a good opportunity to test out my new hiking poles. I somehow seem to keep ending up taking untested gear on big trips. After the hike, we went into the town. We hit a small museum in town before leaving. It was primarily the history of the village and its fishing but I also came across a polar bear hide and an old Brno .22 similar to the one my step-dad has. The story has it, that in 1963 a polar bear drifted from Greenland on an iceberg and a local out collecting duck eggs was able to successfully shoot it. I also learned that for many centuries Iceland’s primary building material was driftwood that made its way to Icelandic shores all the way from Siberia. Both of these fascinate me equally. I feel like, had he not shot the polar bear, no one would have ever believed him. I also doubt that either Siberians or Icelanders knew the relationship they had. We then drove to Akureyri, far east of the West Fjords region. We would have loved to stay and explore the Fjords more but travel was quite slow in that landscape and we had limited time. Once we arrived I was treated to a real Iceland delicacy, a hotdog cooked in Pilsner beer and wrapped in bacon. Served on a soft bun with crunchy fried onions. It was amazing. We ended our day with a soak in the local pool.
The next day was to be our biggest. We drove straight to the hot springs in Myvtan. We were told they were a less busy version of the famous blue lagoon hot springs. The water was hot, and the facilities clean, it was a good way to start our big tour. In the area there was a lot to see:
Pseudocraters (created by water escaping through lava flows)
Grjótagjá (which was featured in Game Of Thrones… we did a lot of quoting)
Hverir (boiling mud pools that constantly change a small portion of the landscape)
Viti crater and accompanying geothermal powerplant (it looked like a space station)
Dettifoss (the most powerful waterfall in Europe)
We then made the long drive to Asbyrgi it was a long drive down a one-lane gravel road. When we set out we did not realize how long it would take us. It was still worth the visit though. It is a huge valley created in a matter of days, thousands of years ago, after volcanic activity broke an ice dam and several large glacial lakes drained into the sea and eroded the landscape along the way. Inside the valley, the walls were steep and jagged, the trees inside were thick and lush, at the end of the valley was a pool of still water. Erin and I walked in and there were a few other tourists looking at it in total silence. No one said more than a gentle whisper. Something about this place demanded silence, no one dared question it. We walked back to the car and made the long drive to our campsite in Egilsstader.
The next day was our last day to really explore with our car as we had solidified our plan to start the hike the following day. By this time in our trip, we had circled back to just east of Reykjavik, so the sights became a little busier. The first stop of the day was Iceberg lagoon, full of seals, icebergs, kayaks, tour boats, tourists, and photoshoots. It was quite a sight. Across the road was Diamond beach, in fact, Iceberg Lagoon drains onto Diamond Beach. It gets its name from bits of ice washing up on the black sand and sparkling like diamonds. One thing I insisted on seeing was a crashed airplane on the beach. The story has it that the plane ran out of fuel and the USAF didn’t bother to come to pick it up. It was about a 45-minute hike each way to see it. It was very crowded and, despite the posted signs, people were climbing all over it. I found it a touch disappointing but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, its an interesting attraction that’s relatively easy to access. We then checked into a rather run-down campsite in Hella and booked a bus ticket to take us to Landmannalauger. The following day we would start our Icelandic backcountry hike, but I’ll save that for my next post.
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West Coast Trail: Part 2
This is the Exciting Conclusion to our West Coast Trail Adventure. Part 1 can be found here.
Day 5- Walbran to Campers
Another overcast morning with very light rain. Another morning sliding into cold wet clothes. My poor mood from the previous day had somewhat returned, and I was still interested in pushing a little harder to try and shave a day off. We realized doing so may require us to skip a major attraction, Owen Point, which can only be passed at low tide. Again we left it at “see how we feel at the first campsite.”
I skipped breakfast, as I usually do. I find I prefer to eat after being up and moving for an hour or two. I decided to start the day with some tea, as I was cold and wet everywhere. I asked Tess to add some of the whiskey we packed, for good measure. She handed me some whiskey with a hint of tea. I drank it down and we headed off, at which point I realized, not only had I not eaten yet, but that was the only thing I had drank that day. I was feeling pretty good suddenly, and the weather was clearing.
The day was all bush hiking. It was rough going, lots of mud and slippery roots. There were a few sections of boardwalk, and some ladders, but for the most part, it was a swamp, hopping from
While crossing a swamp, I spotted the lower section of a hiking pole. I grabbed it and asked Erin and Tess to stop so I could catch up. It took some finagling but I was able to use one of the screws and a piece of plastic to replace the missing bolt from Tess’s hiking pole. Just call me MacGruber.
Then we came out of the trees to the edge of a large valley and I saw it… three long ladders down, a long narrow suspension bridge, and three long ladders up the other side. All bolted to a rock face that went straight down to a depth sure to kill a man who dared to fall. It was a shame I couldn’t feel that whiskey anymore, I think I could have used the courage. I went first down the ladders, watching someone else cross was liable to make me panic. I then crossed the bridge alone, it was all less terrible than I had expected. I turned back to watch Erin cross and noticed a sign saying “max 6 hikers on the bridge at a time”. So I turned back to join Erin and waved Tess on, we took a few pictures and I turned to walk off and suddenly it hit me, the terror of heights.
I still had 3 ladders to go up. The first wasn’t bad, a reasonable lean and no left-right tilt. The second was
While hopping along roots over mud and water, I slipped and landed shin first on my hiking pole and putting a slight bend into the end of it. My shin was throbbing but nothing was seriously hurt. On the next section of boardwalk I was able to bend my pole back close to straight by wedging it between two boards.
As we reached the first campsite, “Campers”, the sky cleared up substantially. We checked out the campsite and realized we were the first ones there. We got an amazing spot in a sheltered clearing, and decided not to push further that day. Instead, we set up camp and I built the biggest fire I could.
As more and more people showed up, I made more and more friends. Everyone appreciated the fire, and slowly a ring of soaked boots materialized around it. After days of rain, it was nice to dry off around a fire and chat with all the friends we had made. It was also a little funny to see a bunch of hikers on day two while we were on day five; we felt like hardened warriors looking at new recruits. It is amazing the air or arrogance three hard days of hiking will give me.
We discussed the following day’s hike around Owen Point. Our options were to get up very early in the morning and hike in the dark to catch the morning low tide, or we could get a late lazy start, catch the evening low tide and risk setting up camp in the dark. Our party decided to get a late start and risk setting up camp in the evening. It seemed safer than hiking the rough bush trail in the dark in the morning.
After the point, we were told, is some serious bouldering and log clambering. We were up for it and asked another hiker, Lianne, whom we actually met on the bus ride, if she wanted to join up with us as going it alone didn’t seem safe, and four people struck me as more fun than just three. Our group of four also joined up with two other friends we had made on the rainy nights, Eric and Jarek. After a late night of chatting and enjoying the fire, we turned in knowing we had no reason to be up early the next day.
Day 6- Campers to Thrasher
I woke up early, for no particular reason. I moseyed around the campsite, took in the view, packed up slowly, and had some breakfast. Once everyone was ready, we slowly left camp. We all ended up leaving camp around the same time. It was Erin, Tess, me, Lianne, Eric, Jerek, and a group of four from Saskatchewan, whom we referred to as “The Prairie Boys”. I have to give them credit. It was an older gentleman, his two adult sons, and his son-in-law, and this was the first big hike for most of them. The patriarch, Tom, had bad knees with a limited range of motion, but that didn’t stop him. I think he pounded out that hike by sheer force of will. It was impressive and I hope I can do that when I find myself at his age.
As we hiked, we slowly separated apart, as we all hike at different speeds. After a bit of bush hiking, our group met up with Jarek, Eric, and Lianne on a large rock shelf on the beach, where we would wait for the tide to go down. At this point the weather was amazing, the sun was shining and heat was really coming off of that rock. We pulled our gear out and spread it to dry in the sun. Erin came over and informed me it was time to wash my shirt. I knew she was right because I walked upwind of one of the guys and he exclaimed: “Wow, someone smells ripe!” I gave Erin my button up shirt and she took it to the shore for a wash, I then decided I best wash my t-shirt too. I wrung them both out as best I could, I hung my button up on my hiking poles to dry and slid into my wet t-shirt. The
The ladies went for a swim in a little pool a few hundred feet down the beach, and I tried to start a little fire, with no luck. While we sat and waited, the patriarch of the Prairie Boys came down to say hello and have a look at the sea. They had decided to take the bush trail to the campsite instead of the beach as the bouldering struck them as inadvisable for a man who’s had two knee replacements. After he left, everyone just laid around.
Tess and Erin had a bit of a nap (as I mentioned in Part 1, those two can sleep anywhere). I sat on a log that did a great impression of a bench, put my headphones in, and drifted into some deep unknown level of relaxation. It was just amazing, I had been so tired, wet, and beaten down, and sitting in that sunlight, on that log, listening to music, was the most relaxed I had ever felt in my life.
Suddenly, a whistle cut the silence around me. We all jumped to our feet. We could hear yelling, whistles and air horns. Everyone who
Suddenly we heard yelling from where we just were. We bolted back down the trail to find we had missed the action all together. It turned out that the bear had been scared off the trail above (by the Prarie Boys, we would later learn), and wandered down to the beach. When it wandered out onto the rock shelf, Erin, Tess, and Eric made enough noise for it to go away. I was told didn’t seem afraid or angry… more
After that excitement, Erin and Tess made some coffee and we waited a little longer for the tide. Finally, it was low enough to be passable. It was a short hike across hard, flat, occasionally slippery rocks to Owen Point. Upon arriving, we had to wait a little more for the tide to go down. Once it was low enough we walked through a beautiful cave. Many photos were taken.
Shortly after the point, we reached the bouldering section we had heard tell of. It was rough going, but I found it fun. I put my hiking poles away and put on some gloves and really went for it. The guys had really pulled ahead of us at by this time. After a lot of climbing rocks and logs, we finally saw it, a campfire on the beach.
We arrived about a half hour before sunset. We set up our campsite at the last stop on our hike, the campsite “Thrasher”. We joined the guys at the fire, and shortly after that, the Prairie Boys came rolling in off the trail. They regaled us with their version of the bear encounter. We had a good last night, talking and making friends.
This day was undoubtedly the highlight of my trip and the best day I had had in a very long time. We all agreed, the rain was a good thing. Without it we wouldn’t have appreciated the day as much, and it gave us a real feeling of earning that hike. That night, Erin and I slept with the tent fly open, so we could look out at the ocean. The moon was full and bright, and a sailboat had anchored just off the beach, it was the perfect end to an amazing day.
Day 7- Thrasher to Pub
We all agreed it would be best to get up early to make sure we didn’t miss the ferry back to the end of the trail. We said our goodbyes to the Prairie Boys who had places to be after the hike, while our three remaining trail friends informed us their vehicles had beer in them. It didn’t take much for us to agree to meet up with them at the end of the trial for a tailgate party.
The trail was another slog through the bush, with quite a bit of climbing up and down, but it was an easy trail to see, even if a bit tricky at times. At least it wasn’t raining. On the hike out, I managed one last slip and fall, this time, bending my other pole nearly 90-degrees. It was somewhat comical but quite embarrassing as it happened while I was trying to get around some hikers going the other way.
We hit the last ladder at the end of the trail. It was tall and almost perfectly vertical, somehow that really makes it scary, like you’re being pulled off of it. We laid down on the pebbled beach and waited for our friends to join us. They weren’t far behind. I put on some music for us all to listen to while we waited for the ferry. Eric, after climbing down the ladder, pulled a rope that raised a float to signal the ferry… good thing someone reads the signs, who knows how long us goofs might have waited there.
While we waited for the ferry, I got everyone’s social media contact so we could be real life friends. Then, there was nothing to do but skip rocks, a skill I have clearly let diminish over the years. I was also introduced to “Jack-Knifing”. The goal is to throw a rock into the water with as small of a splash as possible. Typically you throw the rock high with a lot of backspin.
At long last, the boat came and took us to our waiting vehicles. We drove to the trail office to let them know we had survived. I informed them of our bear encounter she replied “Oh, he’s usually not dissuaded that easily”… comforting. We enjoyed a drink in the parking lot and agreed to meet at the local Port Renfrew pub for some food. I had been dreaming about that chicken burger all week… It was everything I thought it would be, as was the company and conversation.
We said our goodbyes and went our separate ways, all of us having grown, I believe, as people for completing this hike. I also think that having made friends on the trail added significantly to the experience. I also have to note that I am very glad we didn’t shorten our trip by a day. We would have missed a lot on those last two days. I guess there is something to be said for toughing it out and
For those that are curious, this is what my trail journal looked like; just basic point form highlights. The writing is rough because I already have ugly writing, and because a lot of it was done in a tent, lying on my back, writing against my palm for stability.
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West Coast Trail: Part 1
Many years ago Erin decided she wanted to do The West Coast Trail, sometime in March 2018 she decided she wanted to do it after her CFE exam. The original plan was for her and our friend Tess to go, an invite was extended to me, I was a solid “maybe”. After our multiday hike through Wilmore, I was a “for sure”. As the hike approached, Erin inadvertently threw herself into quite a whirlwind of a week. She was writing her CPA exam on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday… that’s correct, a 3-day exam. Saturday she was a bridesmaid at a friends wedding, then Sunday we flew out to Victoria, Monday we drove to Port Renfrew to the end of the trail, the next morning we caught a bus to the start and began our hike. I took basic field notes every day, so let’s try telling this story in order. Lastly, I apologize for the quality of some of the photos, many were snapped with a wet cellphone that has a bad camera at the best of times.
Sunday
Our flight left Edmonton about an hour after it was scheduled to. I was somewhat thankful because it gave us time to sit in the airport and get a meal… for the first time in a long time, neither Erin nor myself had anything pressing to attend to. I didn’t have homework, she didn’t have any studying to do, we weren’t at home so we couldn’t even try to clean our basement, our rushed packing had left it looking like a riot had befallen a flea market. All we could do was eat our food and wait, and it was exactly what I needed. I could feel the tension melting out of my body. Eventually, we all loaded onto the plane and headed west. We hit some serious turbulence on the flight, but I seemed to be the only one worried, so it was probably fine. We were picked up and taken to the rental car agency where, through a series of fortunate events, our rental for a small hatchback was upgraded to a fully loaded SUV, including a nav system. Off we went quite pleased with how that worked out. We found our way to the hostel and got some beds, we then decided to take in some of Victoria’s nightlife… by which I mean, go get some food. We found a neat little pub where all the food on the menu was $5.95, I was surprised by the generous portions. While eating, I recalled seeing a homeless man and his dogs about half a block from our hostel. I couldn’t handle it, I ordered some chicken and fries to go, on our way back I handed them to him.
Monday
The hostel had a free breakfast, in classic hostel fashion, it was just toast and coffee or tea. I could tell it was going to be a good vacation, I was really getting into it. Somehow I was just so very pleased with breakfast and found myself in an unusually good mood, it started in the airport and just seemed to carry forward. From there we made our way to Port Renfrew, which would serve as the end of our trail. The drive was amazingly scenic and our rental car was much nicer than my car at home, so it was extra enjoyable. Erin and Tess missed the entire thing, they slept for most of the drive. We hit the only restaurant open, a pub, we then went back to our hotel to repack and make sure we had all we needed.
Day 1 – Trailhead to Michigan
An early start, we drove to the trail office and found parking. Turns out, a local resident rents out the yard of a burnt down house to hikers as parking space. At $30 for the week, it didn’t seem too bad. While waiting for the bus I made friends with some of the people waiting with us, I get the habit of talking to strangers from my mom. Eventually we jumped on the bus and off we went. Leading up to the hike the bus ride is what scared me the most. I have a bad stomach, and I knew it wouldn’t be a charter bus with a bathroom. I had been assured by a friend that the bus makes regular stops at bathrooms along the way. As we piled on the bus, the driver announced “There’s construction along the usual route, so we are going to have to take the back way, it’s a four-hour drive. I’ll stop half way so we can jump out and take a pee in the trees.” My stomach immediately churned. We started down an old beat up row of potholes held together by ribbons of road. The drive itself was uneventful, I listened to podcasts while Erin and Tess slept… seriously, those two can and do sleep anywhere.
By the time the bus arrived, I had a headache from the rattling and the dust. We sat through the trail orientation, which was basically how to use a tidal chart and to not feed the wildlife. We then began our hike. The first bit was on the beach that quickly turned uphill into the woods. Once in the woods, we decided to start using our hiking poles. It was then that Tess realized that her new poles were missing a tension screw that held the lowest portion in place. Luckily Tess isn’t particularly tall, so she was able to just extend the middle section to get the necessary length. A little further on, we came across an old dirt-bike on the trail. Erin informed me that there was time that people would try to run the trail with bikes and that some ended up abandoned on the trail.
Some distance after the bike we heard a strange barking noise. I was pretty confused until I saw on the map that we were near “Sea Lion Rock”. We came to a lookout from the ridge over the beach, and sprawled out on a nice big rock outcropping were dozens of sea lions. I can’t help but wonder how they got up there, they seemed to high above the water and the rock looked pretty steep on all the sides I could see.
Farther on down the trail we came across a lighthouse. The caretaker was friendly and he asked if we were on the first or last day. When we told him “First” he replied “Oh boy, have fun.” It struck me as ominous. Eventually, we arrived at our campsite, it was like nothing I had ever seen before. It was on an amazing beach and all the trees were full of floats. They must have washed up on shore and people strung them up It was quite beautiful.
We filtered some water from the nearby creek, it was dark red, like tea. Undoubtedly stained by the leaves on the ground. It tasted fine but was a touch concerning. By this time of day my headache had become somewhat debilitating. Luckily Tess had some painkillers in her first aid kit. It turned out that in the pre-trip chaos of weddings and exams, Erin’s carefully packed first aid kit had been left at home.
We built a small fire and cooked some supper, Erin’s famous Mac and Cheese with summer sausage. There were some other hikers camped beside us who were on their last day. They came over and said hello and offered us some of the extra food they didn’t need for their last day: five high protein granola bars. I was worried that had I under-packed my lunches, and these things ended up saving me. Eventually, the day turned to evening and as evenings tend to do, it turned to night. It was Erin and my first night camping in our new tent. It was a dangerous decision to use untested equipment but we simply had no time to take it out before then. All we had time to do was set it up in the yard.
Day 2- Michigan to Tsusiat falls
I woke up early and had a walk around while the tide was low. I was able to walk out to an outcropping of rock and get a closer look at an old boiler from a ship named “MASCOTTE” that burned up in a fire in 1893 after it was sent there to salvage the “MICHIGAN”. The campsite is actually named after the “MICHIGAN”. Once Erin and Tess were up we had some breakfast and began hiking.
The morning had some light rain and it was quite humid. It was during this days hike that we started to see some taller ladders and our first cable car. The wooden ladders were scarier than I thought they would be; they were nice and tall, and had been worn nice and smooth from all the use. They also had a nice layer of water on them to make them perfectly slick. It was like cowboy boots on ice.
Along a section of beach, we stopped for a break on a washed up log of the largest tree I had ever seen in Canada. On an island of big trees, this one was noteworthy for its size. I wonder how long it had lived, how long it took to fall down, how long it took to wash away into the ocean, and how long it took to come back to shore… boggles my mind to think about the things this tree was around for, the changes it was a witness to.
Eventually, we found our way up into the forest and back down a tall set of ladders and onto a beach. This campsite was Tsusiat falls, named for the nearby waterfalls. We wandered, looking for a good place to set up a tent and saw that the campsite was very crowded and by rather young people, we later found out it was an outdoor education class… but, at the time, I worried that it was a Junior B hockey wind up party… some of you might get that joke… let’s just say Junior B hockey is, in my experience, known for fights and drinking more than its known for hockey.
I set down my pack and began rounding up rocks to set up the tent. In that nice soft sand, our tend could not be pegged into the ground properly so we were using rocks to hold the pegs in place. I had just started actually setting up the tent when Tess came back from gathering firewood and informed me that they found a much better, and more secluded campsite.
I put my pack on my pack and bent forward to grab the tent, and the worst thing I can think of happened… I had left my rain cover on my backpack which had filled with sand when I set it down, then that sand fell, with great precision, down the back of my pants, into my underpants, and right between my cheeks… I hate to tell this story, but its almost funny in hindsight. Just imagine being tired, sweaty, and a little chilly and having about 3 handfuls of sand shoveled where the sun don’t shine… We headed to the new campsite, and I grumpily set up the tent while we still had light, I then went straight to the outhouse and did my best to get sand off, and out of me… It has been a few weeks since and I think most of it is gone now.
We then did our best to round up firewood and made a fire. While I got the fire going, Tess and Erin waded into the pool under the waterfall. I ran over and dipped a toe in and decided it was far too cold. We then enjoyed a delicious supper of mashed potatoes and sausage. After we had sat for a bit, a group of 4 came and set up nearby. I wandered over and let them know they were more than welcome to join us at our fire, I used the logic of “one big fire is better than two little fires”. After their camp was established they came and cooked on our fire and we became friends. They were headed the other direction and were from England. They were pretty fun people, and one of them had said that this was his first hike ever. One of the friends chimed in a corrected him, they had taken him up the Grouse Grind in Vancouver to test his tenacity. I cant think of a better trail to test grit. I have actually done that hike and found it pretty rough. So good for him for handling it.
Day 3- Tsusiat falls to Cribs Creek
In the morning, along our hike, we passed under an outcrop of rock that formed a short tunnel. The spirit of vacation overcame me and I climbed up to the top for a photo op. It started to drizzle rain and we put on our rain gear for fear of getting wet, shortly it turned into pouring rain. The gear was a bit of a useless gesture as we were hiking through wet trees. We reached the edge of the Nitinat Narrows around lunch time and waited for the boat to take us across. By this time our rain gear was soaked right through.
It was a short boat ride and ended at an amazing little seafood restaurant. We stopped in for lunch. We also huddled around a wood stove and hung our rain jackets, desperately trying to dry off. While we ate lunch, we were informed that the local band that owned the area rented cabins, just basic 4 bunk cabins with wood stoves for $100 per night. I thought that would be nice, Tess also mentioned she would be ok with it, but for some reason, neither of us really put it forth as an option, all kind of assuming no one else wanted to.
After lunch, we continued our rainy walk along the beach. It was along this stretch that Tess noticed some beach glass. We had been told at orientation that we could take anything man-made from the beach, so beach glass is fair game. I collected beach glass for the rest of the hike, it seems many people have no idea what it is or how to spot it.
We nearly missed our campsite as we were walking along a bit of rocky platform away from shore when we ran into a group coming the other way. They were looking for the same campsite, “Cribs Creek”. Both groups panicked worried that they had severely overshot their destination. As luck would have it, it was right where we had met, and just kind of hidden into the trees a bit. We walked along the low tide and made it to shore to find that everyone had set their tents up in the shelter of the trees, right next to the outhouse and bear boxes (food storage bins). We all kind of shrugged and set up our tents in the group, hoping that so many tents would dissuade a curious bear. We also cooked right next to our tent, another camping faux pas. While setting up to cook, we discovered that our soaked lighter no longer worked, luckily other campers were more than willing to lend us a lighter. Safety in numbers I guess.
We took a look at the map and discussed the possibility of pushing to a farther campsite than originally planned for the following day to try and shave a day off of our hike. It is a very bizarre feeling that I had never experienced before, no matter how bad things were we were minimum 2 nights away from the end. All the other multi-day hikes I went on, there was never a time you couldn’t just hike out in a day. It was a frightening “trapped” feeling. We left it at “we will see how we feel when we get to the next campsite, if we are up for it and the weather is still bad, we will hike to the next.”
At 6:30 after cooking and eating in the rain, we were ready for bed. We climbed in our tent and stripped out of our soaked clothes, wrung them out outside of our tent and set them in the fly. I used my soaked shirt to try and squeegee up some of the water in our tent floor but it more just spread it around. I then hung it up inside the tent in hopes it would go from soaked to soggy by morning (it did not). We then set out our bedding and changed into dry sleep clothes. It is a great feeling to go from cold and wet to dry and warm in a sleeping bag. For as bad as it was, our sleeping gear was still dry and that is worth more than you can imagine until you are there. I laid there wishing I could go back in time 7 hours and rent one of those cabins. We read for a bit and went to sleep, somehow I managed to sleep from sometime between 8 or 9 until 7 am.
Day 4- Cribs Creek to Walbran
The rain had nearly stopped by morning, which was a lucky break Setting up or taking down camp in the rain is miserable and really opens the door to soaked gear, though most of our gear was soaked anyway. Getting dressed in the morning was something akin to torture. ALL of my clothes were sopping wet, including my underpants that had spent the night in the fly of the tent getting nice and cold. I slid them on while making a variety of interesting noises and faces. Erin saw the humour, and I do too, now that some time has passed. Don’t worry, they still had some sand left in them.
There was a river running right beside our campsite and into the ocean. I watched as some hikers attempted to cross it via the rocks we had hiked on the day before, but it appeared just too deep and too wide to jump or rock hop. I decided the smartest way to cross was over a large slick log running the width of the river.
I explained the plan to everyone and said I would go first, to prove concept. I unbuckled my pack so it wouldn’t drown me if I fell. It was a slow cautious walk, but I made it without incident, as did Erin, Tess, and several other hikers. Shortly after that came another ordeal, and outright scramble over a pile of logs that looked like a lumber mill accident… or ambitious beavers, but we made it over. Our trail continued with a lot of beaches. The highlights of the day were seeing another lighthouse and a lot of bear signs, had that bear poop been any fresher we would have seen it being deposited.
We crossed two more rivers via cable car. The rain began again in the afternoon. The last stretch of trail up to the last cable car was all bush, and undoubtedly the worst excuse for a trail I had ever seen. It was not uncommon for the trail to be rough and muddy up to this point, but this was on a whole new level. I would look at the bush closely and see a boot print in the mud 15 feet ahead and know that’s where the trail was. I was essentially acting as a tracker following previous hikers, it reminded me of tracking animals while hunting. At times there would be a bit of trail, that would end abruptly at a deep swamp that we had to scramble around. All while in steady rain and on slippery tree roots. It was at this time that my attitude really fell apart, I didn’t have a big flip out, but I think it was obvious to my companions that I had started to breakdown.
There was nothing to do but keep pushing forward. We were coming up on the campsite and pushing on to the next one simply wasn’t an option, that last push through the woods was too taxing physically and mentally. Again we set up a small tent city in the campsite, this time at Walbran. There were fewer people and the rain had let up somewhat while we set up camp. We borrowed a lighter and made some supper.
We began chatting with some of the hikers we recognized from previous campsites and actually the bus ride to the trailhead. It was nice to talk to some other people and hear their thoughts on the weather. Misery loves company, but I still think I had the worst attitude about it, or maybe we all hid it well from each other.
After supper, I decided to try and light a fire to boost morale. After nearly an hour of making nothing more than smoke, it had gone to the hardest rain I had seen all trip. I was thoroughly soaked, Tess came and informed me that she and Erin had actually gotten a fire going on the other side of the campsite. The spot they had found was a little more sheltered, and the underside of one of the previously burnt logs was still dry when they flipped it over. They then found kindling under some large fallen trees and used some wood shavings from the composting toilets as fire starter. By the time I got to it, it was a true roaring fire.
We stood around it for quite a while, steam rolling off of our sopping clothes. So much steam that it was a little hard to breathe at times. I didn’t care, I’d rather suffocate on steam than freeze to death in wet clothes.
It was another soggy night in the tent, but again, we had the amazing luck of still having dry sleep clothes and sleeping bags. Someday I’m going to write a book about hiking, half stories and half instructional. Rule number 1 will be: ALWAYS keep your sleeping bag and sleeping clothes dry, no exceptions.
Make sure you bring your butts back for part two, coming soon!
Posted in Hiking, Photo Drop, Travelwith no comments yet.
So Long Old Friend
It was recently announced that Wholesale Sports will be shutting its doors. I feel it is important that I pay my respects.
When I was a kid, it was always exciting to come to the city because it meant we might go to wholesale sports. I can still remember the layout of that old store and how I would drool over the airguns. When the new location opened, I couldn’t believe how spacious it was. When I finally moved to the city for university I, of course, applied. I told the manager I was willing and able to work in any department. I was hired on in the camping section with the understanding that I would train and fill in for other departments when they needed it.
It was at that camping kiosk that I read my first Capstick book. That turned into a lifelong addiction to books on African hunting and exploration. It was from that old used rack that I bought my first deer rifle. I paid $450 for a used Ruger M77 in .243, I’ve still got the sale papers for it buried away in my safe. It was also that job that financed by trip to New Zealand and Fiji. When I got back from Fiji I had $0 in my account but I walked into the store and was given a job, at the gun counter this time. It was all those conversations with hunters over the years that made me decide to take up bear hunting. It was those Capstick books that convinced me to write about it, and it was a coworker who told me to send my story into Alberta Outdoorsmen. It ended up being my first published story. When I finished university I moved on to a job on an oil rig. It paid well but was short lived, I was laid off and Wholesale saved me again, this time with a job in their warehouse. That job helped keep Erin and me afloat until our wedding and trip to South America.
My first deer rifle
I don’t know what their reason for the shutdown was but I would speculate they placed the blame on outside competitors and overall market down turn in the face of Canada’s current recession. I also have some strong held beliefs that some things could have been done much better, but that is simply a byproduct of working on the ground floor of a company for nearly a decade… You get to see behind the curtain from time to time.
Wholesale has announced that their last day of business will be December 28, 2017 until then there will be a continuous clearance sale. So when we go to cash in on the sales and pick the flesh from the bones of the dead.. lets try to remember that this old relic of the past was once a hub of education for young hunters. It also helped more than one person become who they are today… for better or for worse.
Posted in Fishing, Hiking, Hunting, Travelwith no comments yet.
Western Canadain Road Trip (Vol. 2 )
I drove to Calgary in the morning to pick up Erin, her flight landed at 11 am. It was the first time I had seen my wife in just over six months, at that point, since our wedding we had spent more time apart than together. From the airport we went to Canmore and checked into our Air BnB. We didn’t do a whole lot the next few days, just a short hike down Grotto Canyon. It was a nice hike and it was neat to see that towards the end people had built hundreds of little inukshuks. From Canmore we headed to Banff and camped for two nights, we were informed that we were catching the tail end of the camping season since it was starting to get so cold out. We wandered around town a bit and cooked over and open fire. I also took this time to help Erin learn to drive a car with a manual transmission. She did much better than I did when I first tried to learn. While in Banff we also got a chance to see the northern lights during some sort of magnetic storm making them extra bright. From Banff we headed to Waterton for no particular reason other than a change of scenery. It began to rain quite heavily as we packed up camp in Banff, we hurriedly filled the car and sought refuge in a parkade to have breakfast and let our gear dry a bit. After two nights of camping in Waterton I decided I was far too cold to continue tenting, Erin on the other hand, wanted to do some back country camping. During the day the weather was nice and we came across a lot of mule deer that had no real fear of people. While hiking the Bears Hump hike we actually, accidentally, got between a doe and her two fawns, neither parties seemed concerned but didn’t want to run passed us on the trail. After a few tense minutes of having three wild animals withing a few meters the mother finally trotted into the trees above the trail and we were able to sneak passed.
Inukshuks in Grotto Canyon
Northern Lights
Road to Waterton
Looking good on the roadside
Train car just off the highway
We spotted a full rainbow
Erin on a hike in Waterton
Bears on Waterton townsite
Young Mule Deer on Bears Hump
Waterton from Bears Hump
Squirrel at the top of Bears Hump
After freezing in Waterton we got another Air Bnb, this time in radium. This was also our one year anniversary so we treated ourselves to a fancy dinner. From there we hit the hot springs and then went on to Revelstoke for two nights. The weather in Revelstoke was foggy and snowy but we still drove to the top of Mt Revelstoke and had a look around. Next we went to Kelowna, we stayed at a very nice hostel but we got dorms instead of a private room. The first night that didn’t matter much since we were the only ones in the room. Unfortunately on the second night 5 more guests had shown up, four of them were very friendly exchange students from India going to university in Vancouver. Erin and I went to bed and they went out partying, then several times through the night one would come in and pass out, his friends would try and wake him, then leave… then come back… then leave.. Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, they all came in and went to bed, and one of them started snacking on some chips. Then they said something in their native tongue and all got up and got dressed again and left for a while. Only to make a whole bunch of noise coming back in. It was quite funny to me because they were genuinely trying to be quiet but were simply too inebriated to accomplish it, and they were very polite. While in Kelowna we met up with my aunt, uncle and cousin, we went to dinner at their house two nights in row. A home cooked meal was just what Erin wanted after a year of travelling. They also told us about a farmers market, so Erin and I went, she got peach salsa which was amazing and I got some candied salmon which is high on my list of favorite foods. The weather in Kelowna was pretty rainy so we didn’t get up to too much adventuring. Mostly we just spent time with family and walked around town a bit.
Worlds Largest Truck in Sparwood
A Bear in Revelstoke
The Road up Mt Revelstoke
The Hiking trail on top of Mt Revelstoke
From Kelowna we headed to my cousin’s house in Surrey, he and his wife had a spare room he was kind enough to offer me. This was the first time I had been to their house and I was immediately amazed at all the trophies. My cousin does car audio competitions and is apparently quite good at it, as indicated by the many many trophy crammed into every corner of his home. As luck would have it his mother, my aunt, had come to visit him too so I got to catch up with even more family. Erin and I were given a key to come and go as we pleased while they were at work so we spent most of our time in Vancouver just exploring Stanley park. On one day though, we went to Grouse Mountain, we started by doing the Grouse Grind trail which is about an hour of walking straight up. From there Erin suggested we do Crown Mountain which we didn’t realize was up one mountain and down another then up to the top of Crown Mountain. It didn’t seem too bad until we reached the bottom of Crown Mountain, then it became clear that I was going to have to put my limited bouldering skills to use. At first it was just steep bits with lots of roots to grab onto, then it became a scramble on an exposed rock face with a lot of room below you… enough that if I fell I could contemplate how much the landing would hurt before I hit. I made it almost to the top, sadly the last 30 meters or so were just too hairy for my already shaky legs. Of course Erin, whom I’m convinced is part Ibex, made it to the top and got some pictures.
We stopped at the Othello tunnels on the way to Surrey
Erin found a huge leaf
Grouse Grind entrance, its strange to see a hike with a fence at the start
Me climbing up Crown Mountain
Note how steep it is where Erin is climbing
As high up as I could get
As high up as I could get
Erin at the top
The sun setting on the end of our Crown Mountain hike
On the day we left his house we picked up our German friend whom we had met in Ecuador while working at the Donkey Den. She had just completed the Pacific Crest Trail which is a hike that runs from the Mexico border to the Canadian border. If memory serves, it took her about five months. She packed into our already crowded car and we headed for the ferry to the island. On the island we were able to stay with another relative of mine. My dad’s cousin and his wife live on the island and even though he was away for work his wife was kind enough to give us, and our companion, a great place to stay, she also gave us a tour of the island and their beautiful antique country home. Her cooking was also excellent, her moose stew was positively divine. Unfortunately for us, the weather was rather insistent on being rainy. So on one of the days we just sat and read books while looking out the window at the rain. The next day we took a road trip, in the rain, to Victoria to see the sights. The weather was so poor all we ended up doing was going to the Bug Zoo, it was pretty neat, we all got to hold a scorpion and a tarantula. I also learned that the most poisonous scorpions are small ones, with dull colors and small pincers…. Like the one I found in our room in Ecuador… which is kinda scary because at the time I was tempted to pick it up under the assumption that its too little to hurt anyone, glad I didn’t do that.
Holding a Tarantula
I dont know whats scarier, the scorpion or the hair
From the island we headed back to Surrey and spent another night at my cousins house, the next morning we dropped our German friend off at a hostel and we headed for home. We made it to Edmonton at 4 am, and thus ended our road trip.
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Western Canadian Road Trip (Vol. 1)
Erin’s flight was scheduled to land in Las Vegas on the 25th, my plan was to drive down and meet her. I started my trip about a week before her flight was due to arrive so I could spend the weekend in Calgary with a friend of mine that you might remember from my Buller Pass story. I arrived late Saturday night and he gave me a tour of downtown. It was exciting to see the nightlife, we also got some tasty pub food. I had no idea Calgary was such lively city.
A poor quality picture of downtown
The next day he took me for a real tour. We went to Glenmore park and did a bit of a walk around, we then headed to the Calgary tower and walked on the glass floor… a nerve wracking experience if there ever was one. The day ended with some awesome delicious sushi, it turns out its one of the few restaurant foods allowed in my strict diet.
A lovely view of the park
Adrian at the tower
Me on the glass floor
downtown Calgary from the tower
Bright and early the next morning I hit the road south. I planned on crossing the border and spending the night in glacier national park. I stopped only a few times; once to fuel up, and once to stretch my legs and let my family know I was about to cross the border so they would not be able to reach me on my phone.
Quick picture of southern Alberta
A quick picture of my chariot
As soon as I hit the border, things went south. I explained my plans and told them about how I had quit my job to spend a month or so travelling around the USA…. and they told me they didn’t believe I intended to come back to Canada! They told me to drive back to the nearest town and print off something that would prove my intentions to return, like proof of employment or a mortgage. I told them to call my mother and hear what she would do if I didn’t come back… they didn’t go for it. I stood there for about a half of an hour suggesting things I could show them as proof, such as phone bills or cable contracts. Everything I could possibly show them they kind of shrugged off as not good enough. I could tell they just did not like ME, and had no intention of letting me in. When the border security agent said he believes my wife and I are going to throw away our lives, and her accounting career, so we could wait tables in Vegas for less than minimum wage while living in a Toyota echo, I knew I was done. America is great, but its not THAT great that I would throw away affordable healthcare, careers, family, and my outdoor adventures to wait tables… So, with a lot of cursing under my breath I walked out of the office, I was instructed to turn my car around and he would hand me my passport on the way by, so I don’t “make a run for it”. Once I got my passport back and was on the road, the cursing became much much more audible… I drove all the way home that day, and went to bed. The next morning I called all the places in the US that I had made reservations with and cancelled, Erin booked a connecting flight out of Vegas to Calgary. The plan was to pick her up in Calgary in a few days and then head west instead of south.
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Patagonia
The cold morning air wrapped around me like an unwelcome blanket, just the slightest of breezes slashed across my exposed neck. I know it was my my fatigue that made me feel so cold, but that knowledge didn’t provide an overwhelming amount of comfort. The wind in Patagonia is well known, and for good reason. The wind in the middle of a city rivals only that of the wind on a Canadian mountain summit. The difference being the wind in Canada feels like it belongs there, in Patagonia it feels like an entity with bad intentions. My stomach felt like something was trying to escape and I barely had the physical or mental strength to stand. The taxi pulled up two houses away, Erin waved and he pulled up to us. I hugged Erin and she gave me a kiss. It was dark, but I knew she was crying; my tears not far behind either. She quickly let go said an abrupt goodbye, spun on her heels and quickly walked back to the small guest house we had been renting. She spared me a long goodbye, and deep in my heart I thanked her for it. I climbed into the taxi and headed for my five a.m. flight. My South American Adventure was over, all that was left was a forty hour nightmare of airplanes and lay overs. I pitied and envied Erin, she had a lot of adventure left ahead of her but she had the misfortune of having to do it alone.
Erin and I flew into the town of Ushuaia, Argentina on Saturday morning. I was a bit taken aback by the airport. It was a small single runway affair, with large timber beams that made it resemble a cozy mountain lodge. Our hostel was only a few kilometers away from the airport so we decided to walk. The decision was influenced by the fact that the walk was along the seaside, which offered us a beautiful view of both the sea and the surrounding mountains.
The View From The Airport
We got to the hostel, got settled into our dorms, and walked into town to get some groceries. The next day we did a hike up to a glacier. It was at the far north end of town and the first portion of the path was along a (closed for the season) ski hill. I still can’t help but day dream about catching a flight to Patagonia in the middle of august to go snowboarding.
The Hill’s Only Chair Lift
Our trail quickly went passed the top of the chair lift and went from a wide gravel road to a narrow packed pathway. It took us through some amazing mountain scenery, over a few bridges, and eventually to a glacier… The first snow I had seen in a very long time. We stopped, had eggs, bananas, and croissants for lunch and then found our way back down to the trail head. All said and done it was only about a two or three hour hike, but it offered views usually associated with an all day hike.
A Few Small River Crossings
Erin On The Trail
I Found This Funny… Because We Are In The Southern Hemisphere
Made It To The Glacier
The next day we really felt like challenging ourselves. We went to the nearby Tierra Del Fuego National Park to do the hardest trail listed: Cerro Guanaco. I am told the name translates to “Alpaca Hill”. A shuttle picked us up at our hostel, drove down every street in town to pick up other hikers, then headed to the park. The bus stopped at the gate so we could pay our entry fee then the driver was kind enough to drop us all off at which ever trailhead we asked for. We were told that our chosen hike was four or more hours each way and warned not to begin it any later than noon as the last shuttle back to town was at 7pm. We started our hike a little after 11am so we decided we best hustle a little, lest we have to spend the night in the Patagonian wilderness unprepared. It would make for a good story but it only gets to about 12 degrees Celsius during the day and I have a hard time imagining night time being anything other than cold.
The first part of the hike was steep uphill through a densely wooded forest filled with thick trunked trees. I also noticed that a lot of the trees had large burls on them, which I found very interesting. I later learned that burls are the result of stress, damage, or illness in trees. So its possible that some sort of disease went through the forest at some time. The dense trees started to thin out and then we found ourselves at the edge of the strangest patch of trees I have ever come across. Our path led through a patch of the most twisted and tangled tree I had ever seen. I couldn’t understand it the trees grew in any direction and, apparently, often changed their minds about what that direction should be. I spotted one that had grown in an almost perfect four foot loop. It looked like a haunted forest in a Disney movie.
The Haunted Forest
After the haunted forest was a mud hole. We cautiously walked along the edge, trying not to lose a shoe until we reached a gravel creek bed to walk along. Our trail then led us across a seemingly open field. The field, however, was soft wet ground and required care and caution to navigate, for fear of the soft ground sinking into the water. I accidentally learned that the water was about the depth of an ankle.
Across the field was the final portion of our hike. A very steep trail etched into the crumbly shale on the mountain side. This would lead us to the summit of the mountain and reward us with beautiful views of the park, the town, and the ocean. Going up the final section Erin and I passed a group of people playing in a patch of snow on the mountainside, on the way back we would overhear that they had never seen snow before.
Surprisingly, we managed to reach the summit in just over two hours. It turns out we had hustled needlessly. We took a bunch of pictures and made our way back down, enjoying the scenery just as much the second time through. All said and done our hike took us just over four hours total.
Erin And I At The Summit
Perfect Patagonian Panoramic Picture
Its Always Fun To Strike A Pose
The Hike Back Down
On our third and final full day at Ushuaia it was far too windy and rainy to do anything of note. We just relaxed and planned our trip to Chile. The next morning, bright and early, we jumped on a bus at traveled eleven hours to Punta Arenas, Chile. It was nice to see the Patagonian country side through those big windows. We spent a few days in Punta Arenas and then I caught a plane home, and Erin took a bus to her next adventure, a nine day hike around Torres Del Paine. Hopefully I can get her to write it up for us all to enjoy.
By this time, many of you are likely wondering why I came home early, and why Erin didn’t. Well, the truth is, I am sick. I have had IBS for many years now. While travelling it got worse. A lot worse. I was stressed and not eating much; in fact I lost about 50 lbs in five months. I often found myself staying in the hostel, sick, while Erin would go do activities alone, or waste the day in the hostel. I was essentially paying big money to hang out in cheap bunk beds with a stomach ache. So we talked about it and decided it would be best if I came home and got control of my diet and stress and tried some new treatments. Erin wasn’t sure if she should keep traveling without me or come home with me, so I put my foot down. I told her to stay and travel. She is a more experienced traveler that me and she is no stranger to solo travel. Furthermore if she did come home with me there isn’t much she can do to help me recover, and it would mean ending the trip of a lifetime very early.
Posted in Hiking, Travel and tagged adventure, backpacking, hiking, Patagonia, travelwith 2 comments.
Six Weeks A Volunteer
New Years day Erin and I took a series of busses from Baños, Ecuador, to Santa Marianita, a beach on the coast of Ecuador. This took us about 12 hours and two busses over night. We were headed to a guest house called The Donkey Den, where we would work for accommodation and delicious breakfasts, for three weeks. We arrived on the morning of Saturday the 2nd, long before anyone in the hostel was awake. We were shown to our dorm beds and left to sleep.
The next morning we got to see the busiest day of the year at The Donkey Den, it was breakfast in the attached restaurant on the Sunday after New Years. This meant that everyone who came out to celebrate was still around and recovered enough to leave the house for food. There was also a power outage along the beach so no one had anything better to do. Unfortunately the power outage meant the kitchen needed to use a small diesel powered generator. It didn’t want to stay running and the person tending to it couldn’t seem to figure it out. I mumbled to Erin that it sounds like theres no fuel in it, having a diesel powered truck at home I am somewhat familiar with the basic principals. She urged me to stop being shy and go help.
I walked over and asked if it had fuel in it, to which I was told there was. I then looked the generator over, fired it up and listened to it sputter and die. Checked for a blocked fuel line and cleaned the gunk off of the kill switch and tried again but to no avail. I took a look for myself and it turns out the fuel tank was bone dry. I did my best to not say anything hurtful to the young man who told me there was fuel in it. I filled it, pressed the heater for the glow plugs and it fired up like a charm. I let it idle a bit and warm up before plugging in the power cables so as prevent the engine from stalling. From that moment on, I was considered a handy man. I am not a particularly handy person but the owner, Linda, still found plenty of odd jobs for me over the next few weeks. For the most part though, my job was simply to keep an eye on the place for a few hours a day and help guests with what ever they needed. I also spent a lot of time tending to the garden, something I thoroughly enjoyed.
We Found a Scorpion In Our Room One Day
Erin and I intended to stay for three weeks but ended up staying for six. Part of the reason we stayed so long was we were waiting for mail to come in to Quito before we left to Peru, another reason was that we just enjoyed it and didn’t feel like leaving. Something about the beach just makes you lose ambition. Over the six weeks lots of small things happened so here they are… In no particular order.
Our First Week There We Saw a Turtle Lay Eggs
Tyson Steps On a Stingray:
One of the local American expats, named Ed, who lived near The Donkey Den was a regular for breakfasts and a surfing fanatic. I had casually mentioned to him that I would kind of like to try surfing. One morning, him and a friend showed up at the restaurant, they had been out surfing and his friend had been stung by a stingray and needed to put his foot in some hot water to ease the toxin and the pain. For future reference, hot water eases the pain of being stung by a sting ray, I also find that it help stop mosquito bites from itching so much.
Ed offered me the chance to take his friends place and go surfing. I was a little hesitant, considering the circumstances, but I went anyway. He told me to shuffle my feat on the sand to prevent stepping on a stingray and getting hit. Their sting is a defensive reaction to being stomped on. I followed these instructions carefully and shuffled out to the break… slowly. Ed explained the basics and helped me catch a few waves. I managed to stand up, very briefly, twice during the whole outing. Toward the end of our trip I jumped off my board and landed on something slimy and about the size of a dinner plate. I immediately lifted one foot off and then set my other foot down on top of it over and over again. I must have stepped on this poor sting ray about 5 times, it was similar to when you start to slip on ice and run on the spot for a split second. I managed to get both feet up at once and set them down far apart, it was a miracle I didn’t get stung. I don’t know for sure that it was a stingray but the other possibilities don’t make me feel much better. Shortly after, we headed back to the Donkey Den and I was able to get some breakfast just before the kitchen closed.. That was the end of my surfing adventures at Santa Marianita beach. The ocean is just too big and too deep, and it kinda scares me. I think I’ll just stick to snowboarding, I like the cold more anyway.
Tyson makes friends:
The great thing about volunteering there was that everyone I worked with was super friendly. I will undoubtedly miss them greatly as our travels continue. One of the ways I cheated to make friends was I baked sweets for them, this works every time. During our stay I baked several batches of peanut butter cookies. Some with oatmeal instead of flour because one of my fellow volunteers couldn’t have gluten (If you want to try it yourself just replace the flour with an equal amount of oatmeal and bake a little longer, Erin thinks they are much better this way). I also baked several batches of brownies, using oatmeal instead of flour didn’t work quite as well. I also learned how to make really good banana bread. The other volunteers tended to make huge dinners which they were more than happy to share. Erin also made her famous popcorn, naturally it was a hit. Someday I’ll put up these recipes for all to enjoy. Towards the end of our stay Erin and I had started putting weight back on, another few weeks and my pants might have fit again!
Baking Brownies, Banana Bread, and Cookies
Tyson witnesses Carnival:
Carnival celebrates the same thing Mardi Gras does, the Tuesday before lent begins… I think. I have never been to Mardi Gras, but I imagine its quite a party and I have no doubt that the Ecuadorians could keep up to it. The beach in front of our hostel was standing room only, with a large sound stage blaring all afternoon and into the evening. I would watch hotel guests and volunteers walk out in clean, dry clothes and return soaked in the colourful spray foam that the people were dowsing each other with. It was quite a sight, but I chose not to go out into the crowd, I could see it just fine from the balcony…
A Panoramic Shot From The Balcony Of Carnival Getting Set Up In The Morning
The Crowd Grew Even More After Dark
Erin gets wounded:
Nobody panic! Erin is fine now. She was laying on the beach when a large wave snuck up on her and some friends. She jumped up in time and grabbed most of her things but the bottle of sunscreen got away. She ran through the shallow water to grab it and in the process stepped on a jagged rock and cut her big toe open. When she got back to the hotel it looked awful and I though we should go to the hospital. Once we rinsed it and got the sand out of it I realized it just looked much worse than it was. We bandaged her toe and kept it clean and I am happy to say we didn’t have to amputate. I have some pictures of her toe cut open but its pretty graphic so I won’t post it here.
Linda rescues another dog:
Linda, the owner, is a one woman army for animal rescue. At the time of our stay she had three dogs and I think about fifteen cats, though nobody was sure the numbers. She takes in stray cats and dogs, gets them spayed and neutered, any medical attention they need, and then tries to find homes for them. After they find a carefully chosen home she continues to pay the vet bills to ensure their well being.
Linda and Some of Her Cats and Dogs
One day we were taking two cats into the vet to be spayed. A little girl on the beach saw the animal carrier in the back of the truck and came up to me. Unfortunately she only spoke Spanish and we couldn’t communicate. She walked off a little frustrated and came back when there were more people around the truck. Eventually we figured out that she had a sick puppy at her house and wanted us to take it into the vet. She jumped in the truck with us and one of her family members followed us on a motor bike to her house. One of the volunteers went with the girl into the barely standing brick shack. I could see they had no running water. They were using the gutters to funnel rain water into a shack beside the house, I imagine it to be similar to an old style wash house. It turns out the family had a sick puppy too young to be away from its mother, AND a sick dog. It turns out they had neutered the dog themselves and as a result he wasn’t feeling too well. We took both dogs to the vet along with the cats. Both dogs were treated for worms and the older dog had been given a shot of antibiotics to prevent his wound from getting infected.
After the vet, we took both dogs back to the Donkey Den with us along with some dog food and hamburger to give to the owners to help put some meat on the skinny dogs bones. The larger dog, whom we called Dobby (his owners named him Tobi), was at first shy and lethargic but once we got food and water into him he came around. The puppy, Erin named her Charlie, was at first quite mobile but by the end of the day was breathing shallow and not moving much. One of the volunteers put Charlie in a basket with some towels for the night and she hadn’t gotten much better by the morning. Linda took Charlie back to the vet, and unfortunately she just didn’t make it, she was just too young and malnourished to survive. When Linda got back to the Donkey Den, she told me what happened and I grabbed a shovel. We went off and I dug Charlie a grave on the side of a sandy hill overlooking the pacific. It was a hard hole to dig, I have a hard time with dogs dying, especially young ones. We buried her, set some stones on the grave and Linda’s friend, Mary, said a few nice words.
Charlie
The family never came back for the dogs and I don’t think they even know that the puppy passed away. Over the next few days Dobby came out of his shell, and his wound began to heal. He was eating more and socializing with people and other dogs. Erin had to lift him onto the chair to show him that he was allowed to be there. After that he would go on the chair, but instead of jump he would struggle and climb to get up, I think he just never learned to jump. When I left The Donkey Den he was still there, and last I heard he still is. It has been about two weeks, so I think its almost safe to say that Dobby is at The Donkey Den for good.
Dobby the Dog
Erin and I are now on our way to see the rest of the continent, hopefully we meet another group of people that are as lovely as the guest and volunteers at The Donkey Den… but those are some big shoes to fill. Thanks for the good times everyone.
Donkey Den Volunteers, Guests, Workers, and Friends
Pacific Sunset
Posted in Travelwith 2 comments.
Bass Fishing In Colombia
I was fortunate enough to have this story published in Hooked Magazine, Im still quite proud of that.
When Erin and I were packing for our trip I made a point of bringing my fly fishing gear. As I packed, I dreamt about catching piranha in the amazon and brown trout in Patagonia. Not once did bass cross my mind, maybe they should have.
While in Colombia, Erin and I went to Guatape the reason for our visit being La Piedra, essentially a very big rock that they made a staircase up the side of. The town is also near a very large man-made lake that flooded a town when they built a dam. When we were looking for a hostel I noticed one listed fishing as one of the nearby activities, obviously we booked with that one.
La Piedra
The day we arrived we decided to do the hike up the 700ish stairs to the top of the rock, which was conveniently across the road from our hostel. We slogged our way to the top and I’m told the views were amazing. I was not interested in going near the edge, or peeking over the railing. I hate heights, and don’t worry, Erin got a few pictures of me crawling around on the top right next to a three foot concrete railing.
The Stairs Up
Not A Fan Of Heights
View From The Top
The next day we walked the three kilometres into town, which involved crossing over a very shaky suspension bridge over the highway. The town wasn’t particularly exciting there were lots of people offering boat tours and a few stores selling fishing tackle, mostly small and expensive hard plastic fishing lures. That afternoon, after we got back to the hostel, I started asking about fishing. The lady running the hostel told me that the neighbour had a boat and would take people fishing for a small fee and the she had an old fishing rod Erin could borrow. I asked her what kind of fish the lake had in it and she said “trout I think, is there one called a rainbow?”. That evening, after the neighbour had returned home, her and I went over and she acted as a translator for me to hire the boatman. I was informed that the fishing seemed best between four pm and dark, about six pm. He said it would cost 40,000 pesos and he would pick Erin and I up at four the following day. That night I did a lot of research into how to catch rainbow trout in lakes.
Colombia Is Prone To Questionable Bridges
In the morning, the hostel owner showed me the fishing rod she had for Erin. It was an old collapsible spin caster rod with the last quarter broken off of the end. The reel on it was dusty, dirty, grinding, and had about twenty feet of old sun damaged line on it. I stripped it down as far as I could and used some vegetable oil to lubricate the reel, that made a huge difference, but the rig still had a lot of problems. We walked into town again to see how much some fresh line would cost. Upon seeing the price, I decided that line would probably be too heavy for that rod and not cast well anyway.
I packed my fly gear, some snacks, and the borrowed rod into my backpack and at 3:30 we got a call that the boat was here to pick us up. We were told that he had a few other anglers out on the banks, one of whom was from Puerto Rico and spoke excellent english. As the boat headed out, I started assembling my, nearly, top of the line Redington five piece fly rod, I looked at Erins shambled excuse of a rod and felt like a bit of a show off. I was also terrified by the realization that she will still likely out fish me like she always does. I expected that the boat driver would drop us off at on the shore and come back at dark, but I was mistaken.
All Of My Gear Before I Packed It
Riding Out
We pulled up to the shore and a man with a Texas accent, and a bunch of fish on a rope, jumped on the boat and introduced himself. Turns out he was the Puerto Rican, or more accurately, a Texan who had lived in Puerto Rico. He was followed by a few Colombians. We started chatting and it turns out his girlfriend is from Colombia and the men with him were his in-laws. We started talking about the fishing and he informed us that the fish in the lake were actually large mouth bass, but everyone in town referred to them as trout. He said they resembled the bass from Florida and he guessed they were transplanted there after the dam was built and to his knowledge they were the only bass in Colombia. I don’t know where he got his information from but he seemed to know a lot about bass and told us he had done some tournament fishing back home. I believed him and he was kind enough to give me some tips. Also, in an amazing act of kindness, compassion, or maybe pity he saw Erin’s rod and promptly handed her his, stating “I have been fishing for five days straight, I need a break” she took the rod and he promptly opened a well deserved beer.
He explained to us where bass tend to hide, in the weeds, and where to cast, just beside the weeds. At first no one was seeming to catch much but finally Erin connected and the whole boat was a buzz. The little bass thrashed and skidded across the surface until Erin brought it in. The Texan grabbed it, took the hook out, we got a quick picture and then it was tossed on the string with the rest of the days catch. At a glance, I would say it was one of the bigger fish caught that day.
Erins Monster
Everyone kept on fishing and chatting, I kept practicing my casting. A few other guys on the boat caught a few fish, and kept them all. Finally, in the crystal clear water, I watched a small bass swim up and take my chironomid fly. All at once it was on, I lifted the rod and set the hook, I started stripping line. I then realized how tiny the fish was, I could tell by the joking and cheering from everyone else in the boat. I hollered at the Texan “Get the net! Gonna need a bigger boat!”. I reeled the little guy in, grabbed the bottom lip, got a picture and tossed it back into the water to grow some more. It may have been small, but on a fly rod anything is exciting and you don’t have to even be catching fish to have fun fishing, so I’m still happy with it. We fished some more with very little success until finally it was just too dark.
My Minnow Sorry About The Blur, It’s The Only Way I Look Pretty
Sunset
We started heading back in the pitch black night. I was marvelling at how well the boatman could navigate in the dark, when suddenly the boat stopped, then turned sharply. He said something in Spanish, the Texan laughed and replied, then told us the boatman took a wrong turn and was a little lost. That was comforting. We made it home with no further incident.
While we were fishing I noticed there wasn’t an abundance of plant life in the water and there didn’t appear to be much for the bass to eat. It was nice to be the only people we saw fishing on the lake and an amazing novelty to say I have bass fished in Colombia. I would be curious to see if it develops into a better fishery in the future. Maybe once aquatic plants can spread more and other aquatic species work their way in from rivers and become a food source for the sport fish. If not, its still a great place to spend and afternoon or two casting a rod.
Posted in Fishing, Published Work, Travelwith 3 comments.