80 KM

Powell Lake – Fiddlehead

I wake in the hut early, with plenty of time to kill. We are not expecting Perry and Steve until 9:00am, and the others are still sleeping.  I slink down to the water, remove most of my clothes, and swim in the surprisingly warm Powell Lake. I can feel the crystalized salts melting off my body.

For breakfast we have oatmeal and leftovers. I polish off chunks of cheese, which I chase with spoonfuls of Nutella. Later, I will become civilized.

Steve and Perry finally arrive at 9:30am. They lead us back to the car, but the rest of Steve’s group has already gone. They are now grunting up the trail to Tin Hat Hut, while we are gliding down logging roads to Powell River.

We are earlier than checkin time at the hotel, but our smiles and smells help us get enough rooms to start showers. We are re-united with Helene. She updates us on her her crazy adventures of rain, hail, mud trenches, German’s quitting, and eventually getting lost.

After showers, meals, and laundry, reality begins to set in.  The weather forecast is rain for the rest of the week. Coral decides to go with her husband to visit family. Marjie wants to explore day hikes, but no more major elevation and camping in the rain. Helene, my last hope, decides she too has had enough.

Alternative plans are made, flights changed, and good-byes said.

Someday I will to return to finish this trail.

80 – 90 – 80 KM

We wake and make our way to the small porch for breakfast, trying not to wake the canoers sharing our hut. We have a quick coffee or tea, and granola with powdered coconut milk. Today is a long climb up to Tin Hat Hut.

View Part Way up Tin Hat

The rain from the day before is still on the leaves and ferns. The overgrown trail gives us the opportunity to dry the forest with our pants. A valiant effort, but a miserable failure. The good news, however, is that the abundant berries are all freshly washed and ready for consumption.

The trail takes us through clear-cut logging patches. This logging is clearly a big part of the economy and history of the Sunshine Coast, but a bit of an eyesore when walking through it. We push on fairly steadily, taking very few breaks. Our goal is to reach the summit by 1:00.

The mountain is a bit of a mystery. It is named after the tin hats worn by loggers, but the mystery for us is that you can’t see the mountain until you are right on top of it. We pass the time shouting out each kilometer marker we pass. Our goal is marker 90, which we finally reach by 12:45pm.

Tin Hat Hut from Summit

We celebrate with sausage, cheese, and Nutella on crackers, but not necessarily all at the same time. We try to orient ourselves, but are frankly overwhelmed by the number of lakes, snow capped mountains on Vancouver island, and the Strait of Georgia. Somehow, even the outhouse by the shelter looks amazing from the summit.

Knowing how far we have to go back to Fiddlehead, we release our grip on the summit, and descend. We begin counting down the KM markers. We meet quite a few people heading up to the hut – one of the canoeing couples (without their canoe), a group of 4 hikers, a man with his dog, a couple of women, then another couple of men.  Clearly, it is going to be crowded on Tin Hat tonight.

As we arrive back at Fiddlehead, we begin again to consider how Perry is going to find us. Various logging roads go in various directions, but none of them to the Fiddlehead Hut.  We have agreed to sit tight, assuming the car can move, but the hut seems less likely.

I rehydrate broccoli and make soup. We have a nice conversation with locals, and fall asleep wondering when Perry and Steve will get here.

67 – 80 KM

It rains quite hard, not stopping until about midnight. Even cramped, we are happy to be in our island shelter. I heat water for coffee, and we mix powdered milk and granola.

Confederation Lake

Jim announces he is tapping out. He plans to walk back to the campground and repeat the ladies miraculous cab summons. He offers to take out any extra food and trash. We take a selfie of the group, say goodbye, and begin our now three-party ascent to Confederation Lake.

Confederation Lake Hut

The temperature is cool and the trail is relatively well graded, but steep. We make it to the Confederation Lake hut before noon. We have salami and cheese, and admire the lake, the shelter, and our speedy arrival. It is chilly and we quickly begin to cool. The ladies are eager to push on, so we load up and head for Fiddlehead.

There is a surprising amount of up on this steep trail down to Fiddlehead. We chat to pass the time, arriving a little after 4:00pm. The hut seems setup for water taxi access, and the road on the map is much clearer than the road on the ground. We are not sure how Coral’s husband Perry will be able to meet us, but that is a problem for future us.

Fiddlehead Hut

We have rice with potato curry, and plan tomorrow’s up and back day-hike to Tin Hat Mountain. It is the postcard hut for the entire Sunshine Coast Trail. If we can’t bag the entire trail, we are at least going to bag that postcard.

We share the hut with a couple of best friends, and a foursome of canoers. It’s a tad crowded, but everyone is very friendly and able to share…even their snores.

64 – 67 KM

First Nation Carvings

We sleep until 7:00am, which is something like backpacker’s 10:00am. We have coffee and breakfast rice – a concoction of instant rice with pudding mix, cinnamon, Craisins, and slivered almonds.

We pack up and beat the rain down the wheelchair accessible trail. There are a few interesting native carvings along the path, which leads us to a bridge to Anthony’s Island. We hope to meet up with Steve’s team, as they double back from Confederation Lake to a different shelter on the west side of Inland Lake.

We find a note at Anthony’s Island shelter that we have just missed the front of Steve’s party train. Holly and a few others pushed on to avoid the rain. Coral and Marjie hike up the trail to find Steve and the rest of his group. They eventually arrive and we share trail tales, and discuss options. They make clear the feared climb to Confederation Lake should not be. Our optimism grows.

Anthony’s Island Shelter

The forecast is for rain off and on all day, so we four settle into our tiny three platform cabin. The rocky ground has my name all over it. After a lunch of powdered peanut butter & Nutella on crackers, the ladies day-hike back to the campground in search of electrons for Coral’s iPhone. I wander north along the rainy shores, while Jim naps and dreams of drier far off places.

Coral and Marjie return. While their things were getting charged, they figure out how to take a cab from the campground to Powell River for candy, trail mix, and bug spray. Later, Jim is quite intrigued by the ladies’ cab adventure, and asks a lot of detailed questions about the logistics. Hmmm.

I make pasta with red sauce, and we fall asleep, sheltered from the still pouring rain.

58 – 64 KM

Last Group Photo

We wake to hear Helene’s final decision – she is going on with the Germans. The good news is that someone from our group might make the trail. The bad news is that we have to re-sort food and say goodbye. We take one last group picture before she leaves.

The rest of us will stroll towards a day of rest at Inland Lake. We are officially off plan.

Inland Lake

We stop at the car camping campground, borrow a canoe, and paddle and piddle around the lake. We are settling in with the parked RVs, kids circling on bikes, and bundles of firewood for 7 dollars Canadian. The highlight of my day is watching a bullfrog stock, catch, and eat swordtail butterflies.

Coral’s husband apparently misses her, and has agreed to bring in their 4 wheel drive vehicle. He is willing to pluck us out at Fiddlehead in a couple of days. He may even bring Steve’s group in, after their scheduled zero day. It will be kind of like a prisoner exchange. But to make it happen, we have to get up and over the dreaded Confederation Lake pass.

Frog Catches Butterfly

Steve calls via his satellite phone, and reports that the trail up to Confederation is not as bad as feared. Their fast pack was there by 11:00am, and the rest were there by 1:00pm. It appears we could have made it on the original plan, yet my three seem quite happy with their decision.

Tomorrow we will move 3 kilometers down to Anthony’s Island, to stage for our ascent to Confederation lake.

40 – 58 KM

I wake early and make breakfast burritos. We are trying to get an early jump on an 11 mile day. We are learning that STC miles are somewhat longer than normal miles.

Another Black Bear

As Coral presses through shoulder tall ferns, I hear bear sounds from the bushes. I hurry her along, as the snapping branches are getting loud.

Further down the trail we run into another bear. This one, clearly coming right for us. I guess these guys don’t like us eating their berries. I yell “Hey bear” as Coral bangs her walking sticks. Our presence is now clearly known. Eventually he veers off.

View Near Scout Mountain

We hike up and around Scout Mountain. The views from the top are amazing, but the down is brutally rocky and steep. I feel like I am learning new sailor terms from Jim, or at least hearing them with new found enthusiasm.

As a team, we are fading. We find a note from Steve. His group has fallen back a day, and is now planning to cut back miles and eventually double back for the zero day pickup. It takes us about 11 hours to travel 11 miles. Helene is going strong and can clearly complete the trail, but others have stopped having fun. This is a head game and some heads are no longer in it – not to mention knees and ankles.

We roll into camp by a decent 5:30pm, but the damage is already done. Alternate plans are being alternately discussed.

25 – 40 KM

We wake very early, and have coffee and bagels with cream cheese. We are on the trail before seven, which gives us an hour jump on the previous day. The next few kilometers, along flowing water, are flat, soft and magical. We wonder if this stretch encouraged the group ahead to keep going. It certainly encourages us.

Black Bear

As we meander smiling, Helene hears a noise. Looking around I quickly find a bear. He is quite conflicted between pulling down branches for berries and rubbing his bum on a log. He makes grunting noises, which we conclude are pleasure, if only because we prefer it.

We have a short but steep up section which brings reality back to our day.

Jim does not stop at the shortcut trail split. We do not know which way he went. We have a frantic moment, with me running down one trail, Helene the other, and Coral and Marjie staying put. We are all whistling and yelling for what seems like ages. Jim is apparently in a groove, and does not stop until a spectacular vista. He never even saw the split.

View from Jim’s Overlook

After catching him, I run back to the trail split, find Helene, then we all hike back to the newly name Jim Overlook, in memory of him overlooking the trail split.

Rieveley Pond Shelter

We hike on to Rieveley Pond Shelter, where we find an encouraging note. The group ahead pushed on. We lounge, filtered water and have rehydrated bean and cheese burritos.

The next few kilometers are quite spectacular, with cooler temperatures, cascading water, and occasion waterfalls. Gorge Falls should be named gorgeous. A dozen people could easily shower under it at the same time.

Every sign we run into indicates Sliammon lake is 4.4 kilometers. We are either walking in place, or this is some kind of sign about the math skills of the sign people. I have a feeling it is a minus sign.

Gorge Falls

We tumble down steep yet incredibly soft tread to the mysteriously warm Large Sliammon Lake. We swim in its warm glory, then make Pad Thai with peas for dinner.

We find no note from Steve, so have no idea how their trip is going. We fall asleep wondering.

12 – 25 KM

Last night was too hot to get under my quilt, so I was eaten alive by mosquitos. I am not sure why the screaming bullfrogs could not have defended me. Flat spot or not, I will pitch a tent, rather than a fit, tomorrow night.

Manzanita Hut

After coffee, hash browns and fake sausage, we soldier on towards Manzanita Hut. The 4 kilometers to the hut are pretty rugged. We think about and feel sorry for the Germans who pushed on last night after dinner. When we do finally make it to the hut, they are still here. They tell us they arrived after 11:00pm. We take pictures and enjoy the great views. They go on ahead, saddled with their “no I can do it without resupplying” monster packs.

Helene’s pack has a curse-able waist belt design, whose apparent hex is the requirement of a hex key. The key’s location is no longer known. We tighten the bolt several times with my pocket knife, but the keyed head is stripping, and we are not enjoying the show. I am unsure how it can possibly last 9 days.

Trail Break

The trail continues to offer us PUDs, or pointless ups and downs. Switchbacks? We don’t need no stinking switchbacks! At on overlook break we find a note from the other Fitpacking group 2 days ahead of us. It ominously states they hope to get to Plummer Creek in the daylight. Given it is light until after 9:30pm, perhaps things are not going so well.

We finally reached camp before 5:30pm and find another note saying they are probably changing their itinerary. Reading these sporadic notes is like trying to follow a reality TV show through Burma-Shave sign posts.

Plummer Creek Campground

The Germans are with us. They had planned to go further, but aching feet do not allow. We filter water to wash down our falafel dinner. Tomorrow we hope to get an early start, attempting to stay on our itinerary.

0 – 12 KM

Water Taxi

We wake in the Powell River Town Center Hotel, put our bags in storage, and have a buffet of coffee, microwave cheesy omelettes, and muffins. We await our chariot driver from the Sunshine Coast Shuttle. He arrives complaining that a previous group made him late to the water taxi. We do our best not to disappoint, so we hump it and are on the road by 7:30am. We make Lund in time for our water taxi, but not in time for the renowned Nancy’s Bakery. We can only dream of the glutenous gluttony we miss.

A couple of women pile in the boat with us. I point out an American bald eagle in the distance. The Canadians quickly point out that bald eagles are nothing more than screechy pests, as common and uncivilized as hordes of sea gulls. I reply, quietly, that their Canadian geese poop all over our golf courses. They seem quite pleased.

SCT Trailhead

At Sara’s Point, the boat driver wedges his taxi against a large rock, which appears to be flying up and down wildly. As we jump he says “go right,” apparently meaning “go correct,” because according to our map, right is clearly wrong. It takes us a while to overcome this implanted direction bug. Unfortunately, the other ladies do head right, and it is a long time before they realize their mistake and catch back up to us.

It is quite hot plowing through thick tree cover and Jurassic Park ferns. The trail is rocky at first, then gradually becomes more like we expect – soft and meandering. Bear scat appears, but no bear. A German couple, starting an hour behind us, does however see one.

Later, we meet a northbound family walking their neighbor’s dog, which turns and follows us, far away from the neighbor. The dog eventually passes us, and barks in the distance – at what we can only wonder. We feel a tad guilty when the neighbor of the neighborhood dog finally returns, frantically looking for it.

The trail gets rockier and crazier. It turns out that an amazing amount of up and down can happen between contour lines. What appear as flat and easy on the map, is anything but on the actual ground.

Helene hears what she believes is a jaguar, and I insist is a jet ski motor. Later, we come upon a vista overlooking a rock island, surprisingly covered by barking harbor seal-shaped jaguars and jet skis. At least that’s what we tell ourselves so that we can both be right. Or is it left?

Garter Snake

We finally make it to Wednesday lake. There are very few flat sites on our rocky ledge. And to top it off, the place is swarming with snakes. They are mostly black garters with yellow/blueish strips, though some are very brown. We must step carefully to avoid them. Bull frogs bull-horn quite loudly – so loudly in fact, that the Germans inquire what monster is making that monstrous noise. Unafraid, Marjie and Jim swim in the lake, while I cook veggies and rice.

With little room for a tent, I cowboy camp by a bench overlooking the water. We will have longer miles tomorrow, but an earlier start perhaps.

0 KM

I am guessing it was a moron named Oxy who christened British Columbia’s Sunshine Coast. British Columbia and sunshine? – in the same sentence? According to Current Results Weather and Science Facts website, the average annual sunshine for the Powell River area is 38%. My first thought – does this include night time? If so, 38% might not be that bad. But alas, as the website begrudgingly reveals, the figure only includes “the usual percentage of daylight hours.” The Sunshine Coast’s claim to fame must not be its weathered name.

Perhaps its claim then is the relatively new 180 km Sunshine Coast Trail (SCT). This trail began in 1992, with the final hut not completed until the spring of 2016. The Sunshine Coast Trail is the under-appreciated step-child of British Columbia’s far more famous, shorter, and yet more honestly named West Coast Trail. After all, the West Coast Trail is actually on the west coast. The Sunshine Coast Trail is seldom in the sunshine, and even less seldom on the coast. It is, however, a trail, so there is that. In fact, the SCT is advertised as Canada’s longest hut-to-hut hiking trail. I assume those 14 huts were built to keep the several inches of daily sunshine from drying out your soaking wet gear.

Sunshine Coast Trail

The huts are available free (first-come-first serve) and primarily house local weekend hikers. There are far more section hikers than thru-hikers. Those who do attempt the entire trail, usually start at Sarah Point, and work their way southeast-ish to Saltery Bay.

Getting to the trailhead can be tricky, and may involve a water taxi or car shuttle service.

Starting tomorrow morning, a few of us will start at Sarah Point, and see how far we get.