Today it finally rained. Dad and I had a laugh on the first day because a hiker we talked to, told us that all the talk about it raining lots on the trail was a load of crap. The week he had hiked it had stayed dry the entire time. When I stepped outside my tent that morning I was actually happy it was raining, it seemed an essential part of an authentic West Coast Trail hike and after all it was only a light, albeit steady, drizzle.
Dad and I made great time on the beach and we were at the ferry dock on Nitinat Narrows by noon, perfect timing for lunch. On the menu- BBQ salmon with a baked potato or a world famous whole cooked crab. Nitinat Narrows is one of only three intertidal lakes in the world, being the only one with indigenous crab so we opted to have the crab. One of the aboriginal men entertained us with stories about people who had tackled the trail again just to have some of the "best crab they had ever tasted" again. One story was that the previous summer a sister had decided to hike from one trailhead to Nitinat Narrows just to have crab again before flying out. Her brother flew his helicopter above her to make sure she was safe and would stop by the dock for lunch and supper everyday. I, and I suspect Dad as well, were a bit skeptical that the crab could be that good. But it was in fact the best crab we had ever tasted and I suppose if I was wealthy and had a hankering for crab I just might fly out there again. After we stuffed ourselves, we threw the remains to the swarms of fish, and watched the jellyfish for a while before loading on the ferry to continue on to Tsusiat Falls.
Well if pictures don't tell lies, then I suppose I must have been a little weary during this stretch of the trail. Dad liked to snap an unsuspecting picture once in a while, which I guess is fair because the big smile pictures don't quite tell the whole story.
Dad and I watched the sea lions through a pair of binoculars for an hour. One huge white sea lion cracked me up. He looked like a bleached whale with his great belly resting a rock, when the tides would come in he would flap his flippers in the air while remaining stationary. The sea lions turned out to be just as curious about us and some swam quite close to us.
This picture was taken at Hole in the Wall and the one below at Tsusiat Falls. Most groups we played tag with on the trail camped at Tsusiat Falls for the night, but it had continued raining all day and we decided we would rather hike the extra two kilometers to Klanawa, the next campground, then wait around in the rain. By this point the insides of our rain jackets and pants were soaked with sweat and our body temperatures would drop rapidly when we stopped to rest.
Right before Klanawa we encountered the first cable car we would have to take (the river being too deep to cross on foot) and the last one on the trail. And what a memorable experience it made. Dad pulled the cable car across to the platform but we couldn't find a way to lock it in place (but there must have been one because other groups crossed in a much more dignified fashion). With one hand holding the back of the cable car and the other arm clenched on the platform railing I grunted in pain as my muscles strained to hold the cable car for Dad to load his heavy pack. Dad took my place and we made a split second decision, Dad wouldn't be able to jump in fast enough once he let go of the cart so I would go alone with the packs and have to unload them and myself as quickly as possible. I laughed hysterically at how silly we must look to the campers watching from the comfort of their sites, the cable cart moved quickly and when I reached land on the other side I frantically threw the packs and myself from the cart. Then Dad and I had a shouting match from opposite platforms as I tried to determine which way to hold the ropes so Dad could load himself into the cart, and then pull him across.
Evenings at the campsites were usually a relaxing time but this evening was the exception. The rain picked up harder as we pitched the tent and it was difficult to build a substantial fire, most of the wood being soaked. I was wet, hungry, exhausted, and so cold I couldn't stop shivering as I sat as close to the dwindling fire as I could without burning myself. I have a childish tendency to get very surly when I am hungry, cold, or tired and unfortunately, as I had all three I am afraid I wasn't the best of company. I wanted to eat a granola bar and curl up in sleeping bag, but Dad insisted that we needed a hot meal. When I had finally changed into a dry set of clothes and had eaten a hot meal I did feel better but I was still glad to get out of the rain and go to sleep that night.
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