Adventures in Canada

A week ago today I was hiking the Canadian wilderness. This is that story.

Hiking to Rainbow Lake

Rule #1 Never Hike Alone

I have heard this, read this, and seriously considered what this meant to me as I embarked upon my journey. You may think journey is a strong word, perhaps something that only hobbits can do. However, let me reassure you that journey is a perfect word.

Last week I traveled to Whistler, BC. It was my first holiday alone. Now alone may sound like a sad word, but rest assured I enjoyed my time alone. A time to recharge, explore a new city, and be in a foreign country (and yes, Canada is a foreign country).

Back to my journey. Before heading to Whistler I did some research on the hiking and found two trails that I wanted to try. I didn’t make it easy on myself either. I chose the most difficult trails in hopes of some of the best views.

Okay, so here’s the low-down on the first trail I would hike. It’s a 16km loop that takes around 5-6 hours and is rated the most difficult. It has an elevation gain of 850m, promises to keep your heart pumping, and deliver jaw-dropping views. Reviews also stated that this trail was well worn and marked, something that I needed. At 8:41 a.m. I exited my car after having written a letter detailing my whereabouts on the chance I didn’t return. A sobering thought as I closed the door. I snapped a picture at the trailhead and off I went.

I am directionally challenged. Knowing this about myself I knew I had to be on top it, lest I get lost in the Canadian wilderness. But about a mile in this fact was only reiterated as I somehow, in the beauty of all that surrounded me, veered off the main trail and found myself on a less-worn, cliff-hugging path. Not the best start. Still I kept walking and maneuvering over fallen trees, boulders, and roots. It wasn’t a bad mistake; I was able to see Rainbow Falls up close and eventually I made my way back to the main trail.

Trees are thick and the sound of moving water runs to my right. I could hear the birds and animals scurrying in the underbrush but all out of sight. The beginning of my journey brought about many conversations with myself and with God. It’s funny, but my first concern had nothing to do with animals but with the fact that I have seen every episode of Criminal Minds. Bad things can happen in the woods so I asked for invisibility from other hikers or at least the ones who would do me harm. I also asked for a quick death were something to happen (Melissa would have been proud of all the options I created for myself), a discerning spirit, and maybe a hoary marmot sighting. I also took the time to mentally review the bear pamphlet I had read the night before. I had grabbed it on a whim in the visitor centre just to be on the safe side. Having only ever encountered bears at the zoo with a nice barrier between us, I had no desire to see one while hiking on my own. And I’ve seen When Grizzlies Attack so I know not to be too hopeful if attacked, chances are I’d rather just die. Thankfully grizzlies don’t live in Whistler though, only black bears and from reading the pamphlet they seem a bit more docile. The tips for what to do if you encounter a black bear are as follows:

1. Stop and access the situation.
2. Remain calm and do not approach the bear.
3. Stand your ground and face the bear.
4. Identify yourself as human in a calm voice. Singing a song helps.
5. Make direct eye contact and keep it.
6. Back away slowly.

At this point the bear should leave or you are hopefully able to detour around it. However, if they bear approaches you the pamphlet said, “Don’t panic! Your brain is your best defence in bear country.” It also listed these helpful hints.

1. If talking in a calm, respectful tone is not working, say “no” as if speaking to a misbehaving dog.
2. If you have bear spray, use it.
3. If the bear “pops” his jaw to threaten you lunge toward or “bluff charge” the bear.
4. DO NOT PLAY DEAD.

This was the information I had to go on if I were to come across a black bear. I took this time to decide what I would say to a bear or what song I would sing. I rehearsed in my calmest tone “Well hello you silly old bear. I don’t want to bother you. See you later bear.” I couldn’t think of an appropriate song so I rehearsed different words. Then a panoramic view would steal my attention and bear talk was left for another time. 

We’ve established that I’m terrible with directions and on top of that I’m not the most observant person either. I’m the kid who asked Dad every time on the way to Auburn if this was the way we always went (for years I did this). Yet, on my journey I noticed the smallest detail. Everything; from the direction of footprints to animal noises or lack there of. Trail signs and animal poop were also present and did not escape my notice or my camera. I was proud of this, even if for half the trail I kept wondering if I was even on the right trail. My mind doesn’t work in terms of kilometers so I had to estimate and do my own conversion of kilometers to miles.

Somewhere along mile 3 (again, this is my best guesstimate), I encountered my first sign of life. Humans. A family of three, who did not raise an eyebrow in my direction. I was ready with a smile and warm hello but it was not to be. I was secretly happy because I was sure that my prayer had worked and that I was now traveling with invisibility cloak that would make Harry Potter proud. About a mile farther a girl comes running around the corner and bounding down the path. The strange thing was she was wearing jeans and a hoodie and holding her phone. But running. Running fast enough to make me wonder if I should be running as well. Had she seen Bigfoot? Does Bigfoot like to wander on well-worn trails with waterfalls and lakes? Alas, I kept walking.

Six hour hike, pshhh. I was surely going to make it in less. It felt like I was making good time, so I began daydreaming about all my extra time in Whistler Village. When hour 3 came around I began to lose hope of shattering Olympic records and just hoped to make it out of the woods before dark. Eight kilometers uphill will make for a long day, a hungry girl, and yet only half a journey completed.

But when I reached Rainbow Lake all was forgotten. The mammoth bugs that had followed me in swarms, the roots that had tried multiple times to trip me up, and even the man-made pier structures that seemed to be missing more boards than not were all a distant memory.

Rainbow Lake was beautiful. The bright blue water and breeze that wrapped around the lake and me like the arms of a friend were a welcome relief. Putting on my jacket, I sat and enjoyed the view. I had worked hard for this view. I’m not sure I knew how to really appreciate the lake and how I had journeyed to it. Sitting in solitude, having walked in solitude to this place of beauty, there is something so fantastical about sharing that with only yourself.

After taking the time to enjoy the scenery and rest my legs it was time for the journey back. I knew going back would hopefully be much quicker since it was mainly downhill, so I set off at a brisk pace in hopes of making up time. It is quite amazing when you realize that you are almost finished, well halfway at least. My pack became lighter, my steps quick and sure, and the bugs weren’t too much of a bother.

 I allowed myself an hour and a half to make the trip back. With the trail being 86% (a rough guesstimate) downhill I felt this was an attainable goal. I bounded down the trail, practically prancing over the tree-roots and rocks and sailing over the suspension bridge that, upon first crossing, had made me pause. The goal was all but mine. While traveling downhill is faster it is much harder on my knees. I felt everything and was thankful for the walking stick I had found on the way up. It surprised me how much of a difference it actually made.

About two miles out from the trailhead I could taste the victory. The sweat, pains, and aches were worth all of what I was about to accomplish. The tree coverage was thick and expansive again and the trail was now gravel as I approached a bend in the road. I stopped for a brief moment to rest my knees and when I looked down the trail what do you think I saw? A black bear! Alive, only 50 yards in front of me, and moving jauntily down the hillside onto my trail. All I could do was freeze, the air silently, slowly leaving my lungs perhaps for the last time. This was it. I was to die by bear attack. Jerking my head around I prayed for other travelers, but I knew I would find none. I edged my way closer to the trees as the bear kept moving down the trail. Should I identify myself as human? Do bears like to travel on well-worn paths like Bigfoot? These are the questions that surrounded me. Now, my camera was around my neck but I knew if I mashed that button I risked the sound of the shutter making the bear angry. Not worth it. With the bear moving away from me, I was happy and I didn’t see the need to change that. So I watched the bear meander around the bend and down the path while I stayed put for a good five minutes. Who knew, maybe the bear had bear friends or bear cubs not too far behind, and I wanted to avoid getting in between a bear reunion. Even in my fear and the uncertainty of the situation it was quite humbling to see a free bear. I must say black bears are cute, they walk kind of funny and seem like they could be sweet, but I’m happy with just making this observation. Had I needed to serenade my bear friend the song that came to mind was “Cuts Like a Knife” by Bryan Adams. Surely that would have driven the bear to flee, unless like me, the bear has a soft spot for the Canadian rocker. I guess I’ll never know. After giving the bear a head start, I picked up a rock and continued on very cautiously.

Those two miles were long and my hopes of getting to my car in record time were shot, but I was alive and all limbs were intact so I felt that was a good sign. As soon as I saw the trailhead I dropped my rock, once my precious weapon, and ran (probably more of a stumble really) out of the woods. Should I kiss the ground? Lie on my back basking in the sun? I chose the less dramatic route and instead took a survival photo by the trailhead. Loading my sweaty, dusty, and already sore body into my car I set off for Whistler Village. I needed Wifi to tell people I had survived my journey. 

P.S. Go to Canada any chance you get. It is a beautiful place.(See above photo.)