Five days on the Juan de Fuca trail
Hiking the southwest coast of Vancouver Island is an adventure in fog, rain, sunshine and whales

Grady Semmens
Calgary Herald

Saturday, October 19, 2002

It's even easier to appreciate towering cedar trees when they provide natural bridges over rugged terrain and steep hillsides.

CREDIT: Photos, Grady Semmens, Calgary Herald

Moody mornings are the norm on the west coast of Vancouver Island. Fog, rain and dense cloud can be gloomy but often lift as the day progresses.

An expansive reef shelf provides scenic and mercifully flat walking near the end of the Juan de Fuca Trail.

Thick tendrils of fog wrap the forest above Bear Beach.

The author, right, and his hiking companion, Doug McKinlay, chill out in front of a bonfire on Chin beach after a long day of hiking.

CREDIT:Photos, Grady Semmens, Calgary Herald

Heads hanging in the rain, backs curled under the weight of a fully loaded pack, it happens at the best of all possible moments.

We pick our way across a beach full of slippery, wet boulders that threaten to snag and break your ankle at the slightest misstep.

I'm chilled to the bone in my soaked clothes, mind wandering aimlessly when I first hear the sound. It begins with a low hissing, a kind of dull roar.

"What's that? Some kind of plane?" I call ahead to Doug.

We both stop dead, trying to pinpoint the puzzling noise.

Turning my head, I strain my eyes into the grey expanse of ocean.

About 200 metres out, where the water meets the sky in a seamless expanse of grey, a black and white figure leaps into focus. A killer whale rockets out of the water, crashing backwards with an enormous slapping sound that takes a second or two to reach our ears. Moments later, another jumps and then we see several sleek dorsal fins bobbing above the surface. The sound of the whales exhaling through their blowholes fills the air as the pod of orcas frolic out in the white froth churned up by their fins.

The gloom that surrounded our day is quickly replaced by a mellow sort of joy as we sit back to watch the antics, amazed at another splendid moment in a trip that has been chock full of them while trekking along the Juan de Fuca Trail.

But that was just the end. To get a real sense of the experience you need to start at the beginning -- four days and more than 40 kilometres before.

Forty-seven kilometres of towering forest interspersed with rocky coastline and stretches of sandy beach, the Juan de Fuca Trail meanders along the southwest coast of Vancouver Island from China Beach to the fishing village of Port Renfrew, at the end of Highway 14. Potentially a southern extension of the longer, more rugged and more famous West Coast Trail, the Juan de Fuca is a challenging undertaking in its own right, with sections of remote and strenuous walking that will punish even the most seasoned of hikers.

Without the need to make reservations, it takes far less advance planning and is still blissfully free of crowds, especially if you choose to hike it in the fall or spring instead of the height of summer.

While many sections can be accessed for day hiking, and some gonzo trekkers and distance runners have been known to do the entire thing in two days or even one gruelling day, the best way to experience the place is to set aside four or five days to hike the entire length. That way each day contains a decent hike but also allows you enough time to stop and soak up the scenery and delve into potential side adventures along the way.

Day One

After posing for the obligatory "before" photograph of ourselves at the trailhead in our clean clothes and clean-shaven faces, we started out from the China Beach parking lot, the point from which brown wooden posts begin counting your progress along each kilometre of the well-travelled route.

The first two kilometres are a good snapshot of things to come.

Winding through a mossy forest, across a sturdy metal suspension bridge and then gradually down to Mystic Beach, which is the perfect place to stop for a short breather and to discard the mental baggage of the civilized world left behind.

The sun burned off the morning's fog and began beating down on the slate-coloured sand and illuminating the showers of fresh spring water pouring off the rocky ledges at the south end of the beach.

From there, it was another six kilometres of twisting and relatively flat forest walking which includes numerous bridges and staircases carved out of ancient trees decaying on the forest floor and viewpoints overlooking the Straight of Juan de Fuca and the blue peaks of Washington state's Olympic Peninsula in the distance.

At Bear Beach, we found a perfect campsite where the sand meets the trees beside a trickling creek where we washed up before spending the rest of the evening smoking cigars and sipping Wild Turkey in front of a roaring driftwood fire.

Day Two

Woke to a heavy fog and light drizzle that cast a soggy pall on the day ahead. On subsequent trips, I've come to realize this is typical weather on this patch of coastline where the weather often goes through many incarnations during the day. Gore-Tex is your greatest ally against damp weather that can blow in quickly from out of the blue.

A quick breakfast of porridge and we were on the trail for the 11-kilometre leg and lung-buster of a hike to Chin Beach (not to be confused with China Beach, our starting point).

This is the most strenuous section of the hike as the trail relentlessly climbs hundreds of metres up into the forest and then dives back down to sea-level a dozen times as you beg for a straight, flat section that never comes.

There are plenty of delights along the way to distract you from the slog, however. Meandering through lush second-growth forest that almost seems too tropical to be found in Canada, the trail passes countless old-growth cedars left behind by loggers when the area fell to the axe at the turn of the century.

The numerous hollowed-out tree trunks are impossible to pass without standing in and pretending you are one of Tolkien's hobbits standing in the doorway of his home.

Six hours later, we arrived at the small plywood and Plexiglass emergency cabin nestled in the trees above Chin Beach, and stopped to sign the log book on the table inside.

The bunks looked inviting but since the sun was out we opted to descend to the beach where we set up camp behind a wind shelter made by previous campers out of planks of driftwood. There we hung our sweat-saturated clothes out to dry.

The dull aching of my legs was the only thing reminding me of my earth-bound existence as a I watched shooting stars arc across the heavens as the red coals of the camp fire smouldered into oblivion.

Day Three

Rising late in the morning, it was good to find I wasn't the only lazy one. I spotted a fat harbour seal sunning himself on a rock ledge just out from our campsite. He watched, half-interested, as we broke camp.

We reached the north end of the beach after passing towering cedars wrapped in dense tendrils of leftover fog then clambered up a small rock ledge leading into the trees, beginning a very diverse walk.

It begins with up-and-down sections through the forest, quickly bringing you to the suspension bridge that sways over the yawning canyon of Loss Creek.

Those with even slight vertigo will want to keep their eyes firmly fixed ahead since the bridge deck is simply a metal grate that allows you to peer past your feet to the creek bed hundreds of metres below.

The trail then meets an old logging road that runs flat and straight through stands of dense deciduous trees before dropping back into more hilly sections with plenty of muddy patches.

The last two kilometres cling precariously to cliffs that hug the shore, leading to a perfect waterfall spilling out of the forest into the ocean just before reaching Sombrio Beach at Kilometre 27, where beach camping is delightful on sandy stretches that allow you to sit gazing at the sea from the door of your tent.

Day Four

The skies were partially cloudy but the morning was still blissful. A humpback whale chose the little cover in front of our campsite in which to leisurely circle around for an hour, sending plumes of spray into the air from his blowhole after dipping under the surface every few minutes.

Following him north along the length of the beach, we passed a multitude of tents as we got closer to the parking lot at the end of a short gravel road that connects Sombrio Beach to the highway.

Leaving behind the car campers and surfers, we chose this day to cover the most ground on a section of trail that turned out to be very different, ecologically.

After the beach, the trail stayed relatively mellow, passing through several newly-replanted cut blocks bursting with riotous colours of wildflowers and berries.

At kilometre-37 we reached the deserted parking lot at Parkinson Creek, where we polished off most of our remaining food, including the last nub of garlic sausage that had turned an unpalatable green.

Stashing our packs in the brush, we trotted down a small side trail to a small wooden observation platform that juts precariously over the water, overlooking a rocky grotto known to be a popular gathering point for herds of sea lions. Alas, there were no signs of life.

The last stage started with excitement as we entered a berry-rich cut block. Moments after filling our water bottles at a creek, we turned around in time to see a black bear lope across the road, just metres away, eyeing us nervously as he turned his rump and crashed away into the bush.

A few minutes later, we hit the shore for a delightful walk along a wide and flat reef shelf that stretches for two kilometres, allowing you to scan the sea as you walk, picking your way around tide pools teeming with sea creatures.

At Kilometre 40 we pulled into the forested backcountry campground at Payzant Creek, where we finished the last of the whisky and cigars before turning in.

Day Five

Waking up in a pool of water, rain steadily dripping through the roof of the tent, all we could do was pack our soggy belongings and leave. But what began as a dismal and disheartening end to the trip turned out to be one of the most uplifting sections of the trail as we sat enraptured by the offshore orca action. Warmed by the amazing display, it was the pangs of hunger that finally motivated us to shoulder our packs and continue the final leg of the trek.

The last few kilometres flew by as we stopped only to spend a few moments under a rocky outcropping to change into our cleanest and driest clothing for our return from the wilderness.

At Botanical Beach, a popular beachcombing spot, the trail turns into a wide gravel road that leads through the trees to the parking lot, where we snapped our "after" shot at the 47-kilometre post, doffed our packs and boarded a shuttle bus that whisked us back to China Beach in under an hour.

As with any outdoor adventure, the end comes with sadness for leaving behind a simpler way of life. It's tempered, however, by the relief of returning to the comforts of civilization.

"You gotta have the halibut and chips with a cold mug of beer. It's the best meal you'll ever have in your life," says the outgoing waiter at The Breakers, a cosy roadside diner in Jordan River, just west of Sooke. After four days living on little more than pasta, porridge and Power Bars, he is absolutely right.

If You Go:

- The Juan de Fuca Trail begins at China Beach Provincial Park. From Victoria, drive west on Highway. 14 towards Sooke. The signed turnoff for the trailhead is another half an hour past Sooke. Shuttle bus services, such as Trailbus ( or ) can be arranged to provide transportation from Victoria and between trailheads.

- Vancouver Island writer Donald C. Mills' 1999 book Giant Cedars, White Sands is the definitive guidebook for the trail. The 96-page book provides detailed descriptions of the entire trail, complete with a fold-out topographic map and descriptions of side trails along the way. It can be purchased over the Internet at www.genio.net/pallas or at many outdoors stores and bookshops in the Greater Victoria area.

- Camping along the trail costs

$6 per night, per tent, payable at kiosks at the China Beach, Sombrio Beach, Parkinson Creek and Botanical Beach parking lots.

- Bears and cougars are abundant along the trail, making backcountry camping etiquette mandatory and carrying bear bells and pepper spray advisable. Creek water is generally drinkable,but boiling or using a water filter is recommended.