SCT Day 2: The Rustle
The next morning is cold, only a couple of degrees above freezing. It is painful to get out of my incredibly warm sleeping quilt (thanks Enlightened Equipment!) and change out of my sleeping clothes into my cold and still-damp clothes from yesterday. We make some tea, wolf down some scoops of peanut butter, and start on our way.
It doesn’t take long for us to realize how sore we are from yesterday’s hike. Eventually, it starts to warm up and we feel better.
We have quite the distance to cover today as well: 32km to our next hut at Inland Lake. We’ll be passing through Powell River on our way to Inland, and so we are looking forward to having a nice meal and picking up the food and snowshoes we left at the campground.
We run into a handful of people, all of whom are walking small sections of the trail. We haven’t met any thru-hikers yet!
The nice thing about hiking this trail in April is that we don’t have to worry about water at all. In the late summer months, I read that some parts of the section have hardly any water, and so it’s necessary to carry many liters at a time - but for us, we didn’t need to carry more than a liter. We brought with us Sawyer water filters, and they worked perfectly. Not having to fiddle with purification tablets or some finicky battery-operated UV light is a luxury. We just scoop some water in and suck!
I’ve used my filter in Peru and China without getting sick, so I was confident that the pristine Sunshine Coast creeks would be no problem.
The trail today feels different from yesterday. We’re at a higher elevation, so we get some nice views of the scenery around us. Again, the weather is perfect, sunnier than yesterday and much warmer too.
After 5 hours or so of hiking, we are getting near Powell River. I’m starving, thinking about the huge meal I’ll be having soon. We go to the first restaurant we see: Shingle Mill. The food is excellent. I eat a gigantic meal of Naan Souvlaki Wrap with a side of Seafood Chowder and sip on a delicious beer. After 50km, we deserved it.
After our meal, we try half-heartedly to hitchhike back into Powell River, but give up shortly because we’re in a bit of a time crunch, since we took our time enjoying the food at the restaurant. So I call a cab, but before it gets to us, a van pulls up, and an elderly lady I recognize from the restaurant insists she’ll give us a ride. When I tell her that a cab’s on the way, she looks offended and tells me to call and cancel it. I oblige.
We learn during the ride that her name’s Mary Murphy, and she’s an intense lady who tells us about her children and grandchildren, most of whom are either a surgeon, training to become one, or married to one. Her husband is also a retired physician. She waits for us while we gather our snowshoes and food, and then drops us off at Walmart so that we can get some chocolate bars.
Then, I take Jill up on her offer and give her a call, asking her for a ride to the trailhead at Mowat Bay Park. She immediately agrees, and soon thereafter, Jill and her husband give us a ride to the trailhead. We’re grateful to both Jill and her husband and Mary Murphy for their generous help.
The trail hugs Powell River for the first 3-4kms and rewards us with great views. Right around Haywire Bay Regional Park is the first time that we lose the trail for a while. There is a lot of debris on the trail and the markers are scattered everywhere, confusing us, and it takes us half an hour before we’re able to find it again. Thankfully, the rest of the trail to the hut is relatively clear and we are able to cover the distance quickly.
When we reach Inland Lake, it is getting dark. There are two huts at Inland, one on each side of the lake. Ideally, we would stay at the hut on the east side of the lake (called Anthony Island), as this hut is closer to the trail for our Confederation Lake, our next hut, but it is a few kilometers further, and the idea of hiking an extra kilometer after our long day does not appeal to either of us.
Inside the hut are three elevated wooden platforms - thank goodness, since the ground is muddy. We place our bags on one platform, taking out our food and sleeping gear, and Alex and I each claim the remaining two and get settled for the night. Not too long after making it inside our hut, we can hear rain starting to fall in full force. We eat our bag of nuts and some energy bars, brush our teeth, turn off our headlamps, and get ready to sleep.
Since the hut is not insulated, occasionally a breeze manages to sneak in. It gets cold, and I’m thankful that I’m dry and have enough layers to stay warm. As I lay there, dozing off, I hear rustling to my right, towards where our gear is.
“You hear that?” I ask Alex. He murmurs an affirmative. I grab my headlamps and turn it on, expecting to see some rodent rummaging our very limited supply of food… And I see nothing. Thinking that it is the breeze, I insert my earplugs, determined to sleep through whatever weird sound nature throws my way.
Not too long after, Alex turns on his headlamps to investigate more rustling. Again, we see nothing. I tell Alex that it’s likely just the wind messing with our minds, insert my earplugs and try to fall asleep.
This time, the rustling is too loud to ignore. I quietly reach for my headlamps and turn it on, pointing it towards the source of the disturbance like a weapon. And we both see it running off - a mischievous mouse. To say we’re annoyed is an understatement. It is our fault for leaving our food out; the hut has lulled us into a false sense of security. We grudgingly get out of our warm bags and pack everything back into our bags, and as the rain falls with ever increasing intensity, I fall asleep regretting not packing a mouse trap.