BC FERRIES
Our journey of ensuing hilarity began at the ferry.
Being a naive West Coaster, I assumed (wrongly, in hindsight), that we could just drive to the Ferry, pay, and get on the next one. Although rushed, we managed to make it to the Tsawwassan ferry port (about 25 mins outside of Vancouver) with 15 minutes to spare before the 2:00 Ferry departed. At the window, I asked: "Am I on time for the 2:00?"
"Honey," the women replied condescendingly, but in a high school cafeteria kind of way that was also a bit sympathetic, "you're not even gonna make the 3:00. You'll be lucky if you make the 5:00."
You see, on weekends, there is usually a wait for the Ferry. (Who knew? Not I) And, this weekend in particular, I found out that there was some sort of provincial championship something on the Island and everyone wanted to be there, not just me. So the wait time was ridiculous.
So B and I parked in the pecking order, and waited three hours until the 5:00 Ferry departed.
"Why don't they just run more ferries when it's busy?" I asked a guy reading beside us on the grass where we lounged outside of the car for three hours. "That would be too easy," he said with a scoff.
As the cars were welcomed aboard, the parking guy stopped the line up TWO cars before ours!
If I missed the 5:00, I would be out of luck: the next ferry didn't sail until 7. It's a 1.5 hour sail. And another 1.5 hours to the campground. I would surely be setting up in the dark! Surely, having arrived at 1:45, I would be able to make the 5:00!!!
Luckily, the ferry parking gurus squeezed the cars in and were able to take the guy in front of me and me! woohoo! So we made the five o'clock. And things were starting to look up again!
PARTY IN VICTORIA
Before we went to Juan de Fuca Provincial Park, we had a party to stop by in Victoria. My web service provider invited us to a house warming party and we decided to pop in for a few hours to say hello. Of course this "few hours" was planned prior to our 3-hour wait at the Ferry. So it morphed into a "Hi. How are you? Congrats on the new house. Here's some wine. Hi I'm Kim. This is Beamer. We have to go."
So we high-tailed it out of there around 8:30, with advice from the party-goers that Sooke (the town closest to the park we were camping at) was 45 mins away max.
NEUROTIC GREYHOUND + ONE-MAN TENT = BAD SLEEP
They were right. It was only 45 mins away... assuming I didn't get lost first. But I did. And headed the wrong direction on HWY 14 until the highway turned to a one lane bendy backroad. I started to question my direction. Luckily for me and my poor navigational skills, fate interveened and three deer sidled up onto the highway and blocked me from going any further. While they grazed in front of my car and Beamer stared intently, I took the opportunity to review my map. Which confirmed that I was indeed going the wrong way. By the time I was back on track, the sun was setting, it was 9:15, and I was a long way from the camp site.
At 10:30 we rolled into the campground. Luckily, I had prebooked a site. Of course, I didn't know which site and the guard gate was closed. I got out of the car to look at the campground map and saw a note taped to the map: Kim McMullen go to site 68.
Ah... west coasters are so nice.
We pulled in. I set up the tent. Nearly strangled Beamer as I forced her into it. And spent the ensuing evening tossing and turning while my greyhound sat on me, whined, stood up and panted, and, eventually, climaxed her poor camping behaviour by barfing in the tent around 1:00.
This is a picture of Beamer pre-barf, hating the tent.
This strategy worked and I quickly booted her out of the tent, put on my headlamp, and got to work santizing our sleeping space. 20 minutes later, she was back in the tent humming and hawing about her rough luck. Lucky for me, she was unable to repeat the barfing incident and I had on-and-off sleep for a few hours.
JUAN DE FUCA
All of this toil and trouble, up to this point, turned out to be very much worthwhile.
We packed up camp at the crack of dawn and headed to the trail head. After a two-kilometre hike through dense jungle-like forest, big mud puddles (all of which Beamer tredded through with a "take that!" attitude), and a suspension bridge that gave Beamer anxiety and took her a good 2 minutes to cross as she gripped one paw and then the other and the other and the other over the steel grate-like planks, we arrived at our first destination: Mystic Beach. When you come out of the forest and see this beach, it is, for a lack of a better word, magical.
We saw only two other people who had camped on the beach and were heading to another part of the trail. The sand was smooth. The forest from which we had descended created big rock bluffs and cavernous creations at sea level. Waterfalls cascaded from the cliffs.
Beamer ran in circles. I snapped pictures. We napped on the beach briefly.
This beach should have been called "Mist Beach", as there was this eerie yet refresshingly beautiful mist that hung over the trees and gave everything an irridescent glow. It looked like something out of the Lord of the Rings. From a magical time.
We carried on to Bear Beach after another 4 or 5k in the forest. An equally beautiful beaech. The epitome of serenity, really. Not a soul in site.
By the time we got back to the car, our hike had been five hours. We were tired but happy. Beamer's tongue wagged loosely out of her mouth. She had forgiven me for the tent episode (I think).
HINDSIGHT IS 20/20
As we boarded the ferry home I thought:
(1) I wish I had left on Friday, rather than Saturday, and had more time to hike more of the Jaun de Fuca trail
(2) I wish I had purchased a Therma-Rest for my diva dog before forced her to camp with me
(3) I wish I had reserved a spot on the two o'clock ferry.
Regardless of these few blips, though. It was a wonderful trip and a fantastic weekend.
