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:
- Stop
and access the situation.
- Remain
calm and do not approach the bear.
- Stand
your ground and face the bear.
- Identify
yourself as human in a calm voice. Singing a song helps.
- Make
direct eye contact and keep it.
- 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.
- If
talking in a calm, respectful tone is not working, say “no” as if speaking
to a misbehaving dog.
- If you
have bear spray, use it.
- If the
bear “pops” his jaw to threaten you lunge toward or “bluff charge” the
bear.
- 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.)
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