A Marathon of Sorts

It's so hard to believe that summer is nearly over, but I think if I had to pick one favourite time of year to go hiking, it would be from now into fall.  I love those crisp mornings and when you may start to have a dusting of snow higher up, and the sun painting everything in beautiful fall colours.  The leaves have already started turning, so it's a pretty time of year to be out exploring. With the West Coast Trail behind me (and that insanely big pack o-f-f), I was longing for something longer than the challenging 6-17km WCT days.  I figured lightweight will let me go far. I had looked forward to a big day out, catching up with friends on everyone's summer, but surprisingly a posted hike didn't fill up the two vehicles, so I opted for another route in order to scratch it off my to-do list.

For a couple of years I've been eyeing a big loop.  Loops keep me entertained for every corner brings something new.  The book classifies it as advanced/intermediate, and it comes in at 43km.  The terrain sounded easy enough, about 1,000m elevation gain, but over about 20km.  I checked my gear, threw in safety stuff just in case I'd have to spend the night and set off.

The drive out was beautiful with green fields and hay bales, backed by snow-capped mountains and blue sky.  Yes, there was that fresh dusting of snow higher up and I've actually been itching to get the XC skis out.  I knew that I'd need to keep a steady pace to make it, but by the time I made it to the pass at the half-way mark, I was an hour behind for a 6pm finish.  I figured I could gain time on the return trip with downhill, felt light as a feather with the small day pack, but the real adventures would come in the second half.  The first half was lovely, gradual, scenic, and was highlighted by the meadows and jagged peaks at the top (I didn't pay attention to what peaks they are, so figured I'll just carry on along care-free and not worry about what they're called).  The downhill after the pass was relentless and loose. I didn't like it.  This was followed by a narrower trail with ups and downs.  The ups didn't stop.  26km in I take a break, only to be joined by an old man with a foot-long beard, carrying a two-foot dagger around his neck, a vinegar bottle (likely filled with water) dangling from a string around his neck, a decades-old backpack hanging down at the knees, a leather schoolbag over the shoulder, and some sheep skin.  Of course at that point the trail was at its narrowest, and it took me 20 minutes to make it out my escape route.

Around 30km I hit a wall.  My stomach was growling even though I have been eating and drinking lots, so I decided to force myself to eat some more and lay down under a tree for fear of passing out.  It didn't give me much energy, but I had to press on.  At my current pace it would be 8pm before I'd get off the trail.  But damn, at 32km there's more uphill and my pace slows yet again.  At 33km I thought there may be a bear ahead, but it was just some roots.  And more hills.  35km - why am I still going uphill?  Eerily everything looks familiar, like I have been there before, even though I haven't.  So why the deja vu?  At 36km I slow down again, tell myself that I have to make it to the finish line and there'd be no stopping.  Well, the need for a bathroom break made things uncomfortable, so I did stop.  And I pushed on.  Finally a flat stretch.  I loved flat by that time.  But why fields of rubble across the trail?  Twice I was hit by a rock.  Then more uphill before a final gradual downhill.  And as if the trail were saying to me that it hasn't beat me up enough, at the end it throws me a river.  I stood there, not knowing whether I should laugh or cry, but I decided that there'd be no way I would take my shoes off.  My plan was to walk through and drive home barefoot.  As I looked around for shallower sections, I saw a bridge a couple of minutes upstream.  That saved the day.

I had brought my little stove, some fondue cheese, and my moon chair to have a nice little fondue BBQ afterwards, but I just sat in my car.  I didn't have the energy to make dinner.  The drive home was beautiful, but ow, did it hurt to get out of my car.  I barely got myself into the bathtub and back out and am now waiting for my steak.  I haven't gotten home this late from a day in the mountains in some time, but even with some of the pain today, I am feeling very happily tired (exhausted!) and immensely rewarded.

In my efforts to go light (to make it the distance) I didn't take my big camera, so here are three snapshots from my phone.