By Kate Belton
@k8beee
On March 19th I received a Facebook message from an acquaintance of mine named Jess. The message said:
“Kate! I have a very out of nowhere question for you… I have been planning to do the WCT in June with a friend, and he can’t make it anymore, leaving me with an extra pass, would you want to go with me?”
All I knew was that the West Coast Trail was on Vancouver Island, which is my favourite place in the world. I have wanted to do a multi-day backpacking trip since 2014 when I read Wild. I had absolutely no backpacking gear, had only met Jess twice in real life, knew basically nothing about the trail, so I had to follow my gut on this one. My gut said yes.
The West Coast Trail is 75 kms along the southwestern coast of Vancouver Island. It goes from Bamfield to Port Renfrew, BC. On average it takes six to eight days to complete. There’s no cell service, and since it’s along the remote coast, if anything bad happens, the only option is to be airlifted or evacuated by boat.The WCT is considered one of the most difficult backpacking trails in North America. There are 70 ladders, cable cars for river crossings, and several slippery logs, decrepit boardwalks and various sketchy terrain to overcome (these are all the things I learned days before we began our journey, and elected not to tell my mother about)
March to early June were filled with Facebook messages between Jess and I: “What if it rains the whole time and our bags are too heavy and we die?” “Did you know there’s like 100 huge ladders on this trail!?”.”Seriously, what if we die?” We made several attempts to get together beforehand to camp or go for big hikes but our schedules didn’t allow it. I had inquiries from befuddled friends saying “What if you guys can’t stand each other after one day of hiking?” All valid questions and concerns.
I bought a one-person tent, a stove, a backpack, a BUNCH of those dehydrated meals in a bag, and with each purchase, started to get a bit more freaked out that I was in over my head. It can be expensive gathering outdoor gear, so I don’t recommend you go balls to the walls in a couple months the way I did, unless you’ve got cash to burn (I do not have cash to burn, and consider all of my new camping gear investment pieces which will hopefully last me thirty years).
I did a shot in the dark thing, and emailed Eureka, the makers of great quality sleeping bags that get rave reviews in the backpacking community. I told them about how I was about to hike the WCT with basically a stranger, and that it was my first ever multi-day hike. I knew their bags were high-quality, and (rightfully so) out of my price-range. I received a response from the Sales Manager, who said he liked my “candid approach”. He asked me how cold it was going to get and then he SENT ME A FRIGGIN SLEEPING BAG YOU GUYS! (Shoutout to Eureka!)
Finally, the day came to pack up my backpack (which I didn’t even practice hike with one time, you’re supposed to do that). My pack weighed about 37lbs, which is a lot of lbs when you’re used to no lbs.
About an hour into our car-ride to the coast together, Jess and I realized we have a lot of the same movie quotes memorized (Super Troopers is our fav) and that we are both sarcastic and funny, so it was love.
We took a bumpy-ass six hour bus ride to Bamfield, where the trailhead is located in Pachena Bay. We attended the mandatory orientation the day before we hit the trail. They covered the main things like “This trail is for experienced backpackers only, who are prepared for a remote wilderness experience” and “There are bears and cougars on the trail, since you’re an experienced backpacker you’ll know what to do”.
I got significantly more freaked out about what the hell I had gotten myself into after the orientation, but it was too late. We spent the night in Bamfield and hit the trail in the morning.
Within minutes we saw a bear, foraging in the tide pools in Pachena Bay. IT WAS FINE, you just need to give them lots of space. A baby black bear crossed our path later that day too, and again, the space thing. We hiked 14 kms on day one and camped at Darling River. It’s impossible to describe the beauty of this trail (though to be fair, I have nothing to compare it to. It’s possible all multi-day hiking trails are this beautiful and majestic). At Darling there were WHALES gracefully feeding off shore. We whale watched as we ate our bag of rehydrated Pad Thai (which was honestly delicious), then crawled into our cute tents for the night.
If you are in the market for a lightweight sleeping bag, no BS, the one I had was perfect. It packs down super small, and I had room to move around and still stay nice and toasty! Poor Jess had a shitty sleeping bag so she woke up hella cold on day two and I was like “OMG I WAS SO WARM” so, get this sleeping bag if you need one, and not the one she had because hers sucked.
The trail is gruelling, that part is no joke. There were pristine boardwalks to cruise, and then you’d come around the corner and be like “WHAT the FUCK?” because the bridge that used to be there got smashed down in a big storm and now there’s a huge ladder to go down, a tiny suspension bridge to cross, and then the hugest ladder on the other side to go UP. There’s boulders to hop along the beach, racing the incoming tide, then more ladders. Each day you push yourself further and at night at camp, the feeling of accomplishment is palpable.
The “Trail Magic” legend is a real thing. We met and hiked with some incredible humans. We became a family of six Canadian women and one American guy. Each night we set up camp together, ate our dehydrated dinners around the fire. We commiserated about our nasty blisters, laughed hysterically at weird stuff like how seals are “sea puppies” and bald eagles are “sky kitties” (thanks, exhaustion).
I thought I would be afraid in a little tent among such vast wilderness. Instead, at night I fell asleep listening to the rhythm of crashing ocean waves. At Cribs Creek my sleep soundtrack was hilariously loud frogs ribbiting into the night. At Thrasher Cove, our last night, I was cuddled up on a driftwood log under a thick blanket of stars. The half-moon climbed into the sky across the water, casting the shadows of hundreds of ancient trees into the ocean beside us. Fear was the absolute furthest feeling from my mind. I was at ease. I was home.
I pushed myself beyond what I once believed I was capable of, and was rewarded beyond measure. I made lifelong friends. I am going to visit the American boy in America, and he’s coming back here to visit me. Saying ‘yes’ to this adventure was one of the best decisions I have ever made.
If I can leave you with any advice, it’s this: if there is something your heart wants to do, and the opportunity presents itself to do it, say yes. Don’t worry about all the details, it will work itself out. It’s going to be scary, because we don’t know what we don’t know and that’s terrifying. But this is the stuff that makes life whole. “Don’t live the same year 75 times and call it a life.” Take chances, and do what lights you up. It will challenge you, it will change you, and it will bring you home to yourself.
Kate Belton is a writer and stand-up comedian who is passionate about adventure, petting dogs, and spiritual growth…in that order.
