SCT Day 1: The Drop
We wake up early, knowing we have a long day ahead. After taking a wonderful hot shower, thinking “won’t have one of these for a while”, Alex and I pack up and head to the campground to stash some of our food and our snowshoes, planning to pick them up as we pass through Powell River at roughly the 1/3 mark of the Sunshine Coast Trail. Before getting on with the story, let me outline the plan.
The plan
Day 1: hike to Rieveley's Pond.
Day 2: pick up snowshoes and rest of food from campground, and then hike to Inland Lake.
Day 3: hike to Fiddlehead Landing.
Day 4: hike to Tinhat Mountain.
Day 5: hike to Elk Lake.
Day 6: hike to Walk Hill.
Day 7: hike to Mount Troubridge.
Day 8: complete the hike.
We know that the first 70km or so are free of snow, due to the relatively low elevation, and so we plan to cover a lot of ground in the first two days: 33km on the first day, to Rieveley’s Pond, and 32km on the second, to Inland Lake.
On the way to the campground, we pick up coffee and pizza bread, loading up on as many calories as we can. It is still windy from last night’s storm, but nowhere near as intense. After stashing our gear with a very nice lady at the campground, I call a cab so that we can get to Lund, which is a half-hour car ride north of Powell River. The operator on the phone informs me that both taxis are busy, but that she would send one soon as possible. While we wait for the cab, a lady approaches us. Her name is Jill, and from her outfit, it’s easy to tell she’s also a hiker. She asks us if we’re doing the Sunshine Coast Trail (our large backpacks probably gave us away). We say yes and tell her about our plan. And to our surprise, Jill offers us a ride from the trailhead back to the campground to grab our stuff the next day to save us some time and energy, and gives me her cell number. Alex and I are flabbergasted - everyone we’ve encountered at Powell River has been bewilderingly kind.
Alex and I are flabbergasted - everyone we've encountered at Powell River has been bewilderingly kind.
During the cab ride, our driver tells us that some other hikers he’s picked up recently told him that some parts of the trail were still covered in over 2 meters of snow. Good thing we packed our snowshoes!
It is recommended to hike the Sunshine Coast Trail from north to south. The trailhead is called Sarah Point, and it is generally accessed by taking a water taxi from Lund. We had booked the water taxi with two other hikers, but unfortunately, due to the previous night’s storm, their ferry to the Sunshine Coast got cancelled, so we had to split the cost of the ride in half, costing us over $100 each.
There is no dock at Sarah Point, so to get off the boat and onto land, we are told by the folks at the front desk that we’d need to do a “rock drop”. It sounded easy enough at the time…
During the ride, I told our boat driver (I didn’t manage to get his name) that we were really glad that we could get to Sarah Point today, despite the recent storm and still-high winds. He simply replied, “I haven’t gotten you there yet.” I shut up after that. He was clearly hardcore, wearing a “Git-R-Done” hat. If anybody could get us to Sarah Point today, waves and all, it would be him.
He told us to not rush the drop, that he would maneuver the boat to give us the best chance of making it on the rocks. Normally, with low winds and calm waters, he turns the boat parallel to the rock face, so that we could simply hop off the side of the boat with our backpacks. Today was not one of those days. The gap is too large for us to safely jump, and the boat is sloshing around like mad. To make matters worse, the waves kept pushing the boat towards the rocks, and boats don’t have sideway propulsion systems.
This is what being told to walk the plank must feel like, I think to myself
After struggling for a while, he eventually tells us to walk to the bow of the boat without our backpacks. This is what being told to walk the plank must feel like, I think to myself. Meanwhile, the boat is really rocking. Taking a deep breath, Alex and I each take a side of the boat and carefully walk to the bow. Then, he directs the boat towards the rock face. Alex and I ready ourselves. We jump!
We’re on land now! However, our ordeal isn’t over yet - we still need to get our backpacks off the bow. I watch the boat rock from side to side, our unsecured backpacks rocking with it. I’m terrified that our backpacks would slip silently into the sea; beyond effectively ending our trip, my backpack alone contains well over $3000 worth of equipment, and I definitely didn’t purchase the “bag dropped in ocean” insurance package.
When the boat comes near, Alex holds onto me as I try to reach my bag… And I miss! It is simply too low. The driver directs me to another part of the rock face that is lower. As I walk over, I very nearly slip off the rock face. The second attempt is a success - I manage to get my bag onto the rock face. Alex’s bag is next, and we manage to get that one onto land as well. Filled with relief, we wave to the driver and shout our thanks. We made it.
After taking a few photos, we were on our way, hiking at a frantic pace. We made it to Sarah Point at roughly 10:30 am, and we had 33km to go before getting to Rieveley’s Pond. At 4km/hr, it would take us more than 8 hours to get there, without any breaks. Thankfully, the weather was perfect; not too hot or cold, and overcast, with winds calming down.
The trail was in great shape, all things considered. The wind storm hadn’t caused too much destruction, and it was apparent that the trail had recently been cleared (by Eagle, the founder of the trail, and his amazing team). We were in touch with Eagle before our trip, and he was the person who insisted we need to bring snowshoes. He also gave us detailed information about the general condition of the trail, telling us that the first 80km or so were in good shape. If you’re planning a trip, I highly recommend you get in touch with him!
Also, the trail is very well marked. I don’t think we lost the trail at all on the first day.
After a surprisingly challenging hike, we finally make it to the first hut of our trail: Manzanita Bluff. Neither of us expected the first part of the trail to be difficult, but there was a decent amount of elevation gain. We walk through an exceptionally diverse landscape, from old growth to completely uncovered areas due to recent (and ongoing) logging. It is startling to walk through dense forest one minute and logged destruction the next - the change could not be starker.
By this point in our hike, we are both getting tired. It is a good kind of tired, the kind you feel after walking for 20km with 25 pounds on your back. It is a long day of hiking, and it is our first time hiking with heavy backpacks. We are going at a good pace, but there is a chance that we won’t make it to our hut before sunset. Because the trail is so well-marked, I would be comfortable hiking for a while in the dark with headlamps on, but I’d rather get to the hut, eat, and sleep.
"I can't go on. I'll go on".
We find a detailed map posted with elevation profiles, and it shows that the last 5km to Rieveley’s Pond requires 600 meters of elevation gain. At this point, having covered 28km and walked nearly 7 hours continuously, we’re both exhausted and hungry. 600 meters is 2/3rds of the Grouse Grind. I repeat the words of the poet Samuel Beckett: “I can’t go on. I’ll go on”.
The last few kilometers to Rieveley’s Pond is mentally brutal. My mouth tastes kind of funny, and I can’t get the thought of putting a sporkful of peanut butter in my mouth out of my mind. I don’t even like peanut butter! The last kilometer is the longest kilometer of my life. I am pretty confident I’ve never been more tired at any point in my life.
It is getting cold, so Alex and I decide to start a fire. Unfortunately, this proves too difficult for us, as even the matches were hard to light with frozen hands, and so we give up and decide to set up our sleeping gear.
We fall asleep to the sound of frogs, wondering what the next day has in store for us.