West Coast Trail on Vancouver Island - What a trail!

I don't know how to summarize the last few days. Or even be able to explain what I experienced to someone who wasn't there and spent days and nights on the beach.

I have so much to report;

and at the same time again (in a positive sense) nothing.

Do I even want to share this with anyone? Just write it in the dark without knowing who or when will ever read it?

Or is it just for me anyway? And isn't it the case anyway that it's almost impossible to understand what someone else is experiencing somewhere far away or even close by? There is always distance, no matter what it is; and tomorrow I will perhaps – or certainly – talk about what I experienced differently than I did today; or than I would have done yesterday.

What I mean to say is: I can't remember the last time I was out like this;

so outside,

so outside-outside in the truest sense of the word;

so completely absorbed

with me,

the waves, water, wind;

sand and stones;

sun, rain, fog, clouds;

sound of waves;

stargazing;

and only a few people, but with many animals and trees; Roots, jungle, forest path, cliffs, rocks, shells, starfish; Salmon jumping out of the water.

Emotions;

of thinking back and forward and thinking that I don't want to think, I just want to be there.

And then these flashes of thought:

“Where do I actually want to go?”; “How do I want to be?”; “Where do I actually want to live?”; “How do I want to live?”; “What do I need to feel such deep peace and relaxation? To be happy?” Just the kind of thoughts you have, especially when there is no cell phone reception, no network and basically nothing and yet there is a lot around you.

I came back to it (again): “Exactly this, when I look at the sea.” Just like that, into complete nothingness

to the horizon;

look at waves;

Watching whales from the beach, sometimes alone, sometimes with others - how humpback whales dive into the sea, show their tail fin, then take a breath somewhere a little further, dive once, twice, three times and dive down again; Gray whales, in a bay; Marvel at orcas from afar on the beach.

I have always been fascinated by whales. About 30 percent of the world's humpback whale population lives on the coasts off Vancouver. It's almost never hard to see one anywhere. And if not these, then there are many other species of whales. I think whales are some of the most fascinating animals there are; and that I have ever seen. Not just in a boat to watch whales, but just sit on the beach, wait, be patient, keep an eye out. And then the brief moment; a moment or two and submerge yourself. So majestic!

Plus: feet in the sand, wind around your ears, backpack on your back; fresh, clear air in the nose,

Seclusion.

I repeat: I love the sea; or even more precisely: the waves, the sound of the waves, the wind, the spray and when I walk past them and feel my feet, my body, the backpack on my back, I can't say that anything could make me or me happier makes you feel carefree, blissful, free.

The West Coast Trail was very high on my list for my free time in Canada.

It was clear that I wanted to do this; for years.

The only question was when and how, with whom. A little less than five years ago I met a Canadian on the train between Sydney and Perth. He quickly became sure that the West Coast Trail would be right for me.

We got along well.

He wanted to visit me in Germany.

That was out of the question for me.

Then I get to where he is - or somewhere else - not the other way around.

I have booked flights. I always wanted to go to Canada anyway;

and I was gripped by curiosity about everything.

Shortly before departure, the airline went bankrupt. The flight didn't go. I took that as a sign: “Not now. Not there.” But definitely on the West Coast Trail at some point. That stuck in my head and from the Canadian-Australian acquaintance.

The West Coast Trail 75 kilometers along the west coast of Vancouver Island, through Pacif-Rim National Park. It is considered a popular and difficult hiking trail. For a few days it goes through rough terrain. Above all, the weather should not be underestimated, it rains a lot, it is often foggy and the weather changes quickly, plus the tides; lots of ladders, bridges, climbing units, up and down along the coast and through the forest. The coastal strip was given the name “Graveyard of the Pacific” because many ships were stranded here, especially in the 19th and early 20th centuries; Sailors and passengers were killed. For the First Nations, the indigenous peoples of the Huu-ay-aht, Ditidaht and Pacheedaht, the wild and beautiful coast was and is home. Today, the locals work closely with the Canadian national park, something that wasn't the case for many decades. So colonialists came and assumed that they could simply repopulate the country, wanted to build hotels, wanted to farm, settle, and change the country and the coast. Traces of this can still be felt and seen today, including those along an old telegraph line, now part of the West Coast Trail. In the event of ship accidents, help was far away and a path was created through the jungle on old paths from indigenous peoples; a few shelters, lighthouses and trying to establish connectivity along the coast. After one of the worst shipping accidents, the sinking of the SS Valencia in 1906, the Canadian government tried to (further) expand the route. This venture was abandoned after less than thirty kilometers; too difficult, too strenuous, too impassable; and in addition, with time, naval navigation, technical progress improved and expanded; Ship accidents became fewer. The project became less important.

In 1968 he helped a hiker get across the water for the first time and be able to continue on the path, a Ditidaht told us, who is now a ferryman and the operator of a small fishing hut and a few small accommodations. The path was given the name “ West Coast Trail ” around 1970.

So it’s been on my “I’d like to do it someday” list for years. At the end of 2019/beginning of 2020 I made another attempt. Since it is recommended not to do this multi-day tour alone, I booked a tour. Then something came up that lasted for a few years. I received feedback from the then owner of Sea to Sky Expeditions that (of course) nothing would work, but that the deposit would last a lifetime. I thought: when should I go there again? That is far away. I now want to go somewhere else for my work: Poland, maybe Ukraine, Australia was the big and crazy idea; Canada isn't on the way, I thought. It was somewhat forgotten but I still thought about it from time to time; with whom and when I could do it and one or two documentaries about whales always fueled my wanderlust.

When it turned out that it worked – Australia – mega! - and then also via Canada with all the planned archive stays, I thought more than once: OK, all good things come in threes. And at the same time: Well, does it work? What would come “in between” this time?

Long story short: I've been waiting for the West Coast Trail for a long time and without knowing it, the time and the path and the group experience have also helped me to reflect on some of the experiences of the last few months and years, perhaps even myself a little to be understood far (even) better.

Nevertheless - or better and much more correctly - precisely because of this: the first few days were not necessarily as I had imagined. I wanted the ocean, waves, wind and whales, the feeling of great freedom.

I was looking forward to the hike - and also the small group of eight people; was curious to see who else would be there on a long, multi-day hike that was considered difficult with a lot of wilderness, animals, tents, luggage and instructions that you shouldn't do this alone.

The first few days we went through the jungle, difficult terrain, broken bridges, paths, up and down ladders; and a group with very different ideas and experiences. Plus the tides. So we took the forest instead of the water and in the dark, overgrown jungle, all of us one after the other, all taking the same steps... - it took me a while to realize that this was exhausting me, that I felt really trapped; I didn't want to be here to march, but - perhaps it's too much in my nature - I didn't just want to follow. In the meantime I actually had the feeling of great injustice that I would now be “kept” away from the water and I was so drawn to it. In some moments I felt transported back to my own past, completely different situations, professional, family, personal - and it sounds like I'm 80, I know. I couldn't help but just want to cry in some situations, walking through the forest and "breathing again" on the beach; and to have to.

It took about a day of climbing up and down ladders, shaky bridges and slippery tree stumps like roots before I realized that I needed space and space, open space and not the dark forest, not this running in formation. What an experience. And looking back, it's really beautiful.

I was - and am - more than impressed by the two guides Leah and Tim, who are strong leaders, always had a smile on their faces, did exactly what they were passionate about - being outside - and a group with absolutely different previous experiences and backgrounds , age and life situations brought together and could bring together. I was able to learn a lot from them and am grateful for this experience.

Whatever that path is for others. I thought it was great. And would like to go back.

Now I'm almost grateful that I'm "missing" the coastal stretch between Thrashers Cove and Camper Bay, and that somehow I haven't finished this route yet. I want to go back there, again under the starry sky, fall asleep in a tent by the water with the sound of the waves and wake up again, feel my feet until they are numb, have my backpack on my shoulders. Was that a hiking experience.

Sea-to-Sky is now part of Coastal Bliss Adventures . Highly Recommended!