Day 6

Nick and Gord

DAY 6

By the sixth day, preparing breakfast, tending to blisters, and packing up tents and sleeping bags had become our morning ritual. At daybreak, a few hours of unimpeded sunlight allowed for some quality drying time. We took this precious time to relax and laze about as Norm worked tirelessly to dry out his down-filled sleeping bag. It had been wet since our first night on the trail and the man had not slept well since. My tent is a four season tent and as such, unnecessarily warm for summer camping. Each night, Norm and I battled over how much to open the vents in the tent. Both of us woke constantly. Norm, because he was so cold and me because I was roasting in my -10°C mummy bag.

The sun disappeared almost instantly behind a mesmerising fog. Visibility turned to almost zero as we took our first steps of the day. The day was a mix of shelf walking and rainforest. Either way, we couldn't see five metres ahead of us. Walking the shelf in the fog was surreal. I felt like Han Solo looking for Luke on Hoth. The pocketed moonscape in the rock was the only thing our eyes could focus on. We could hear the ocean and sense the forest but we could not see either for most of the day.

The last few kilometres of the day had to be negotiated on a beach of absurdly slick and tiring rocks, before we collapsed on a massive beach just off Michigan Creek. Although Norm had complained of a cold coming on most of the day, joy and relief washed over us as we set up camp and prepared dinner. We were now just 12 short kilometres from Pachena Bay and the end of our tremendous hike.

We assessed our remaining provisions and breathed another sigh of relief when we found that we had plenty of food left. The boys had to wait a few extra minutes for dinner that night. I had spilt our precious Lipton's Soup into the fire pit while stirring. Thirty minutes later, we feasted and still had leftovers. So we prepared some extra dishes because I thought all us "Day 6-ers" should celebrate around the fire pit tonight.

Who could resist? There were three other groups that had also endured the torrential rainfall and insane difficulty on the first few days of the hike and who had hung in just as we had. There was a group of friends from BC that had fearlessly signed up to hike the WCT. The two women in the group showed off legs that were sickeningly bruised due to falls along the way. There were the Chens. This group of three siblings was also from Edmonton and had managed to lug a Camcorder 75 km. The youngest of the Chens claimed this was her first hike ever and that she had broken her ankle on the first day. And there was the German mother and daughter duo, Heidi and Claudia. These two women amazed us. They had missed the last ferry to cross the Nitinat Narrows and so had to turn back to the nearest campsite. By our calculations, they would have had to have hiked well over 30 km today to catch up to us at Michigan Creek.

Norm, Gord, Nick and I wandered over to the campfire and shared roasted sausage and a delicious dehydrated berry crisp with our battle buddies. The group laughed all night long at what the other hikers (headed in the other direction and thus on their "Day One") were about to encounter. We marvelled at how clean their clothes were and how fresh they looked. We considered pouring buckets of water on their tents to give them a taste of what the WCT had dished out to us on our first night and laughed like journeymen labourers sending temp's off to find a left-handed hammer. Overwhelmingly, we were proud of ourselves and happy to be able to celebrate. Each of us had wondered what this moment would feel like and each one of us clearly enjoyed it. I know that everyone around the fire that night will remember the smell of the ocean and flames, the exhaustion, the laughter and the joy, for the rest of their lives.

We all retired to our tents at a decent hour because the bus back to Port Refrew leaves at 1:00 p.m. sharp and the remaining 12 km could bring anything. By this time, we had learned to expect nothing from the WCT except difficulty.

I awoke a few hours, after falling blissfully asleep, to the sound of "mumph." You know, that sound someone makes while holding back a big ugly barf. Norm has travelled extensively in Morocco and India and apparently has had a weak stomach ever since. All it takes is a bad cold or a disagreeable meal and Norm had both. I heard another "mumph" and asked if he was all right.

"Norm, you OK?"
"Mumph."
"Do you want me to open the tent?"
"Mumph."

Zzzzzzzzip. Tent fly and door opened in a split second. Norm was head first out the door.

"Wwwwuff!"
"You OK?"
"Wwwwuff!"

Goto Day 7