A Walk on the Wild Pacific Trail
In Ucluelet on Vancouver Island
So, to follow up on my previous post about our recent getaway to Vancouver Island, I see that I failed to mention a stop at Stamp River Falls near Port Alberni. Our host at the tugboat B&B suggested it, and we’re glad he did. The provincial park is noted for its late summer and fall salmon runs. And salmon-hungry bears. After a short drive, we enjoyed an easy hike to the falls and fish ladder and almost immediately spotted a good-sized black bear ambling along the opposite bank, obviously eyeing the river for a meal, ambling a dozen yards more, eyeing the river again.
Mr. Bear continued toward us, descending to a rock ledge below a modest drop in the falls. Salmon were jumping one after another in their seemingly hopeless struggle to crest the whitewater torrent (thus the fish ladder). The bear, however, was no more successful than the salmon in achieving this ancient quest. He teetered at the edge a while, swatting at the water, yet the wily fish always dodging that salivating jaw. Mr. Bear finally gave up and wandered off, and we did too, though a small crowd remained to watch the salmon jumpers. We completed our walk and hit the road to Ucluelet.
After a brief visit to Tofino to see what was there, we turned south to Long Beach. We made up sandwiches and watched the curling waves and the surfers, while comfortably squatting in our camp chairs. A lone paddleboarder caught a few waves as well without even a tumble. Later, I looked at an ocean map and discovered that, paddling west, your board or canoe or container ship would have to travel well over 3,000 miles to find the next sliver of land off the south end of the Kamchatka Peninsula. Given the current state of global affairs, I might steer a little to port for Japan instead.
Too soon, it was time to leave the beach and get checked into our quaint cabin in Ukee. Lucky for us, there was just enough of the day left to hike the two-mile Lighthouse Loop trail. We found it to be even more picturesque than the pictures. At the lighthouse, I was struck by a cautionary sign noting the possibility of encounering bears, mountain lions and wolves in the area.
Wolves? This close to town? It seemed a stretch until I read the other notice nearby stating that a wolf was sighted this past summer right outside the lighthouse. Yikes. They haven’t bothered anyone so far, but whoa, I hadn’t run into a watch-out-for-wolves sign before. The warning is serious, since most wild critters with sharp teeth or claws can be unpredictable. Let’s hope they don’t become habituated to clueless tourists like me.
The next day we awoke to rain, which turned out to be a perfect excuse to enjoy a lazy breakfast and a slouch on the couch with a good book. By early afternoon, the skies parted and we were off to hike the Wild Pacific Trail. I’d read that it’d been rated somewhere by somebody as one of the very best hikes in all of Canada. That sounded a tad embellished, but who doesn’t like ocean waves crashing on rocks? As it turned out, this was indeed one of the most gorgeous crashing wave hikes we’ve ever done.
We parked our derriers on a rocky ledge next to a cove of craggy islets, mesmerized by the endless waves rushing though the black maze of protruding seabed, sending spray and foam skyward with every pelagic push. We could have spent the whole day there, but the late start required that we keep moving if we were to see a bit more of the rugged coast. And that we did. There were numerous benches and lookouts along the way, several of them creatively designed like a ship’s crowsnest, others overhanging the rocks. The town has clearly invested itself, both spiritually and otherwise, in this amazing coastal trail.
As we circled around to make our return, we came upon our only close encounter with a large, furry mammal: a doe, a deer, a female deer, then subsequently a ray, a drop of golden sun, a setting sun. Happily, we did not have a long, long way to run to find a drink with jam and bread. Hmm, those sound like lyrics. Somebody should write a song.
Day 3 was departure time: a drive back to the ferry at Nanaimo, with just enough time to stroll around the historic core and snag a hot cocoa and savory crepe at the Ironworks Cafe. We were instructed there to procure an authentic Nanaimo bar at Red’s Bakery down the street. Make that two bars. We obliged. This experience alone had us planning our next visit to the island, but with bikes in tow, and at least a couple of nights in the big city, one whose placename signifies “a mighty people.” We are mighty sure we’ll be back.
