Gowlland Tod Park (part II)

In round one I started the trail at McKenzie Bight and headed south. This time I headed north from the Caleb Pike Access for a 8 km (round trip) tromp to Jocelyn Peak, where I'd left off last time.

First impression - the south end is a little nicer than the north. Then again the margin is small and the weather was considerably better on my second hike, so that's a pretty subjective opinion.

Again wildflowers everywhere, looking spectacular. Up top is sea blush (Plectirtis congesta) a pretty, pink plant I called clover until a friend corrected me (thanks Dawn!).

At right we have either the few-flowered or the tall mountain shootingstar (Dodecatheon pulchellum or jeffreyi).  One of those creations I can hardly believe exists in real life, not just in a cartoonist's imagination. I used to feel the same way about marine creatures like sea stars and urchins. Turns out they are real, too.

And speaking of marine creatures, the best part of this hike was catching a grey whale foraging deep in the Saanich Inlet, down in Finlayson Arm. Could easily have missed it, but it just happened I was out on a bluff looking at a sail boat making its way up the fjord.

Grey whales are not uncommon in this part of the Pacific. They make a long staggered journey from calving grounds in Mexico up here to feed in our plentiful northern summers.

Having worked on a whale-watching boat in this area, however, I can say that seeing a grey whale scooping sediment from the bottom of Finlayson Arm is a highly unusual occurrance.

The photos aren't great — merely evidence.

In my defense, this is how high above the water I was. 

Why I otter!

A river otter stops to check me out on a hike in Gowlland Tod Provincial Park. Not to be mistaken with the sea otter which is rarely seen this far south.

Shore excursion

Port Alberni is situated up a long inlet from Barkley Sound and the Pacific Ocean on the west coast of Vancouver Island. It's easy to forget about the ocean here, what with the mountains and big trees.

I took a hike to one of the places that allows me to visit the sea on a trail created by an old Canadian Pacific Railway line.

I glimpsed a sea lion that breathed so loudly, I first thought it was a whale. Didn't get a pic of its enormous back folding under the water.

Others, like this little song sparrow, came out from under the beach litter to investigate me. 

And I found little scenes in old iron that intrigued me.

Flora on the trail

The pink flowers in the foreground are mountain heather

growing in the alpine.

Latin name, Phyllodoce empetriformis.

Phyllodoce was a sea nymph in Greek mythology.

"These cheerful bells ring an invitation to high places above the timber line, to those serene and lofty slopes where peace and quiet enter our souls," Lewis Clark, 1976.

The spot of water visible in the distance is the west end of Great Central Lake.







Broad-leaved willow herb

also called river beauty,

or Epilobium latifolium

found on the banks of Drinkwater Creek

poking out of the rocks.



A river beauty indeed.








Indian hellebore

aka Veratrum viride

one of the most violently poisonous plants on the Northwest Coast

which was well-known by indigenous people

who also found ways to use its strength medicinally.

In this area, the Nuu-chah-nulth rubbed the mashed root on sores

or rheumatic areas to stop pain and as a general liniment.

Love Lake

Okay, I'm a big hero, the Della Falls trails was easy. Ha.

After arriving at camp on day one I set up, ate and had time to walk to the base of Della Falls before sunset.



The challenging hike was up to Love Lake on day two.
The trail climbs steeply up the mountain across from Della Falls to give the best views of the 440m falls.


As I switch backed up the mountain I would spend the next three hours climbing, I looked up to a rock ledge above me and saw a black bear looking down at me.

It was way above me, but I could see it checking me out, the same way I was checking it out.

I stopped, breathing heavily already from the climb, and debated canceling my plan. That left me with few options. The other hikes in the area require climbing gear and there wasn't a peaceful body of water to sit beside and read the day away. I took another look at the bear and continued climbing.

Well, that was it. For the first time in my life, I was scared of wildlife. I treeplanted for 11 seasons and never worried about bears.

On my walk in, I had started a little inside joke with myself. I had seen the scat of a small animal and decided it was wolverine.

I know there are no wolverines on Vancouver Island. I know they are vicious animals. In university I saw a slide show of a moose that a wolverine had attacked by jumping onto its back from a tree and eating it alive over many days as it walked.

Each time I saw animal sign, or felt nervous after that, I would say wolverine and start laughing.

But it didn't work on the Love Lake trail so I started singing. I don't know the words to a lot of songs. Three very different pieces walked me up that steep, treacherous trail waiting for a bear or cougar to jump me from above.

The main number was She'll be Coming Around the Mountain When She Comes. Annoying and appropriate. That was interspersed with bits of Spiders by Moby and Do You Feel It? by the Joe Cuba Sextet.



The Love Lake trail is the place to see Della Falls, and the precious little alpine lake they pour out of, which is Della Lake, not Beauty Lake as I said before.


Beauty Lake and Beauty Falls are just a little way down the valley from Della and almost as impressive.


It's like a ring of snow-topped mountains wrap their rocky arms around this little bowl with a turquoise puddle and just tip it so the stream falls thinly from the edge.






Love Lake was my planned swimming hole. Luckily I knew before I ascended that it would still be covered in ice thanks to water taxi operator Bruce, but it was still a surprise to see a big lake capped with thick ice on a hot day at the end of June.


I sat there looking at the impressive peaks of Mount Septimus and Mount Rosseau (1962m) across the ice and ate, and generally reveled in my well-earned summit.

I didn't feel fearful again after that.

Della Falls trip

The Della Falls trail was not as hard as I expected. There, I said it.

The river crossing did not require rope. It required the use of the muscles in my legs.

It was disappointing to see a damaged bridge in a B.C. Park left dangling dangerously and impassable for a second summer.

Strathcona Park is the oldest in B.C., designated in 1911. It cuts a big chunk out of central Vancouver Island and is mostly accessible from Comox and Campbell River. I hope that this corner of the 250,000 hectare park isn't forgotten as Della Falls draws many visitors each year to the Alberni Valley end of the rugged mountain area.


After crossing Drinkwater Creek, I sat on the rocks patting myself on the back and puffing my chest out, then carried on to a river-side camp site about 3 km from the falls.

I camped at that spot, rather than right at Della Falls, thanks to a tip from Tony Greenfield, author of the recently released Waterfalls of British Columbia guidebook. I interviewed him for a story about his book and he said not to carry the heavy pack the extra distance but to day hike to the falls and Love Lake, which I did, and it worked perfectly.

As I scrambled up the bank to rejoin the main trail, I though to myself 'must remember this spot'. Didn't help. The only problem I had on the trail was finding that crossing spot on my way back out. I lost about an hour, and a lot of energy, going back and forth, looking for the way down.

I felt some urgency because my water taxi would be waiting at the dock on Great Central Lake at a pre-arranged time. I planned for a swim and lounging in the sun, but sweating it up and down a rocky path was eating into that time.

I looked at the dangerous remnants of the bridge three times and saw too much potential for a fatal fall. Eventually I bushwhacked my way down to where I thought the crossing should be and I wasn't far off.

After the crossing, I walked the remaining 11km without a break, which felt like a bit of a feat after two full days of hiking with the big pack. Over the final 7km I had little choice but to motor as the clouds of starving mosquitos were relentless.

I arrived at the dock 25 minutes before my ride. I got my swim in and sat looking back down the Valley. Then Bruce from Ark Resort showed up with cold beer in his restored 1973 motorboat to take me the 45 km across the lake.

Over the three days I logged 45 kms on my boots and I would do that trip again in a heartbeat.

Sneak preview

This is really just a tease to let everyone know I survived the journey. Much more to come about Della Falls, the highest waterfalls in Canada, pictured here spilling from Beauty Lake.

Another new trail

I've been meaning to try out a trail along the Stamp River that was completed last year.

The Angler's Trail, or Sayachlas ta saa nim as it's known in Nuu-chah-nulth, follows the water for about 7.5km. The guide says it has fawn lilies. It does.



There are 29 species of fawn lily in North America. They are also called trout lilies, glacier lilies and dog's tooth violets.

I believe the ones on the open sunny edges of this path are Erythronium oregonum, aka giant white fawn lily.


For this trail it's best to park a car at either end and go in one direction. I was on my own, so didn't have that option.







Round about six kilometers in, as I realized I didn't want to do the route again in reverse, I wondered why I hadn't put my bike at one end.

Didn't turn out to be a problem. I went out to the road at the north end and picked up a ride from a nice young woman.
She lives by the trailhead and said she didn't even know it was there.
She says there're wolves in the area. She hears them at night. I saw some wolfish looking scat on the road near her house. Cool.

Heard lots of birds. Spotted a few. The white-crowned sparrows stood out. Didn't stick around for a portrait though.

This red-breasted sapsucker did. Busy drilling the big old Douglas fir, it hardly noticed me snapping away. The north end of the trail goes though a decadent forest. The kind that wants to make you weep at the feet of the giant firs and cedars.



Near the end of the trail I spotted this red beetle hanging in the air. Then it settled on a cedar branch.



It's a netwing beetle, specifically (sorry folks, I can't stop myself) Dictyopterous simplicipes. It's a species of the north Pacific lowlands. Adults feed on sap and are active in April and May. Young feed on the bark of dead trees.

To the outdoors

The first truly spring day on Sunday and I tried out a new trail in city limits.

Still need to explore further but an hour's walk didn't show me all of the Maquinna trail system here in Port Alberni.

I did like what I saw and know it will be a viable alternative, on bike or foot, to my favourite in-town trail.

The Burde Street Ponds, or Rogers Creek Nature Trail or whatever it's called is four loop trails that intersect at picturesque spots, like Rogers creek. Plus side branches I haven't wandered down yet. It's mature second-growth forest, steep hikes up cliffs, flat strolls on old rail bed. There are two ponds rimmed in yellow lilies at the right time of year, but always alive with ducks and beaver families and sometimes a turtle or two.







It's five minutes from my home. I can get on a loop and do an hour-long cross country run or take a 45-minute bird watching walk.



I've seen a barred owl mobbed by about a half dozen robins in broad daylight there. A warbler I'd never seen before. Woodpeckers. Winter wren. Cooper's hawk. All the other usual suspects.

I've been looking for salamanders for a few years and I saw one there. Right on the trail.

I love it. I use it a lot and I thank the people who created it very much.

Alberni Valley Hiking part II

Here's another hike I like.

This one follows along the Alberni Inlet starting just south of China Creek.
Part of it follows an old (1913) Canadian Northern Pacific Railway grade which never was put into service.

The 4km trail has a little bit of everything. A steep descent on a rocky path through old growth. Views of lovely Underwood Cove. Flat stretches lined with flowering current that hums with hummingbirds in May.

Then when you get to the rail bed proper, you walk between sheer rock walls created from blasting that make dark tunnels. Electric green moss on tree trunks jumps out against the damp charcoal backdrop.

From time to time the foilage opens up and you get views of the long inlet heading out to sea via Barkley Sound.




Near the Franklin River logging operation is where the path winds up and where this poor Douglas fir is being choked for no apparent reason. Obviously the cable was put around the tree to do some job long ago and it's just never been taken off.

There are plans to join the CNPR trail into the town's network, and eventually run it all the way down to Cowichan Lake, relying some on logging roads, and beyond to the Galloping Goose trail in the Capital Regional District (VIctoria).

This ambitious plan would create an alternate route for exploring large chunks of Vancouver Island on foot, or by bicycle. Governments are putting money into trail building, so it looks promising.

Hiking

All set for a fresh hiking season, I set out on a trail today that climbs up above Cameron Lake on Wesley Ridge to mountain tops that give a view of Georgia Strait to the east.

My trusty guide book also promised a 360 degree view further on, but I lost the trail in the snow so I headed back down to an arbutus bluff overlooking the lake. I had my lunch and went home very satisfied with the challenging two-hour hike.
The second viewpoint will be something to look forward to later in the spring or summer.
Along the way, I saw a varied thrush, and a merlin and heard a red-breasted nuthatch.
That little taste made me want to share some of the other great hikes I've enjoyed on central Vancouver Island.

Last July, I tackled Teodoro, a gorgeous climb up above Sproat Lake between Port Alberni and Tofino.
Like so many trails, finding the start was a challenge and when I returned to my car about four hours later, I had a flat tire.
Still, no regrets.



The name Teodoro lead me to research how it came to have such an exotic moniker, and there's a good story there.

The local man who built the trail named it for the Mexican environmental activist Teodoro Cabrera Garcia who, along with Rodolfo Montiel Flores, was tortured and jailed in May 1999 for opposing forestry company Boise Cascade's logging in the Sierra de Petatlán in southwestern Mexico where they live and farm.

In 1995, the Idaho-based logging company, which also operates in Canada, signed a deal with the state of Guerrero to buy large tracts of land. Mexican farmers watched as entire forests were logged and hauled away by the truckload. The deal, made possible the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), caused a dramatic surge in the rate of destruction of one of North America's last old-growth pine and fir forests.

Teodoro and Rodolfo organized farmers to speak out against the clear cutting of the forests, which they also depended on for their livelihoods. They were on their way to stage a demonstration in the capital of the state when they were stopped by federal police officers. Without warning, the police began shooting, killing 17 and injuring 20 more.

The two men were taken to a military camp, beaten and told to confess to drug trafficking.


Their case drew international attention, including that of Amnesty International, and the men were finally released in November of 2001.

Eventually, Boise Cascade left the area, claiming that the inconsistency of wood supply had forced them to close shop. Many were convinced it was directly related to the activities of Garcia and Rodolfo.

I've planted Boise Cascade blocks in northern Ontario where only the bears know what they're up to.