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Introduction  Photo 1: San Josef Bay at close to low tide. I set up camp, then explored around the beach for a while. The park map showed a trail that was supposed to head up to a peak, so I thought I would try that out. According to the map, it was about a 2 kilometer trip one way, which would give me plenty of time to get back for the sunset. It turned out this trail was a slogfest. It was very muddy, there was lots of clambering over roots, and it seemed to be a lot longer than 2 kilometers. After what I think was about 2 hours, I decided I had enough and headed back. It turned out that there was only about 1/2 hour hike left, but through even worse terrain. Once I found my way back, I started scouting around for potential shots for when the sun set. It turned out unfortunately that there were no clouds in the sky to reflect the setting sunlight, but I still managed some decent shots.
Day 3: The Slog to Nissen Bight This was to be the day that really started the trip off in earnest. I was planning to make the hike up to the main part of the park, a 15 kilometer trek from the parking lot, and 17.5 kilometers from San Josef Bay. I was a little bit uncomfortable about whether my batteries in my digital camera were going to last the whole trip, so I decided on the way to stop back at my car to pick up my 35mm camera. This detour added another 2 kilometers, bringing the total distance I had to hike that day to 19.5 kilometers. Once I passed the first trail intersection after stopping at my car, I quickly realised that this trail was a completely different beast from the one I took to San Josef. Some sections had boardwalks over them, but for the vast majority of the trail, it was a mudfest. There were many places where I stepped in mud that went halfway up the length of my calves, and later on the way back there was one time where I found a spot that caused one leg to sink up to the knee! Carrying about 70 lbs worth of gear did not help matters either. Fortunately, there were numerous other people along the trail with whom I could exchange complaints about the mud. For the most part, all the hikers, myself included, took it all in stride. I came across numerous friendly hikers, and that made the trip easier to bear. About 6.5 hours later, I finally collapsed at my destination, Nissen Bight. Taking a few minutes to look over my surroundings, I found myself on a crescent sand beach, strewn with hundreds of wind and wave worn logs, evidence of a sometimes brutal environment. The sand was powdery soft, and invited me to take off my boots and feel it on my feet. What emerged from my boots was not a pleasant sight and distracted me from my environment. Water from the mud had soaked into the boot, leaving behind bathtub wrinkle syndrome of the worst kind. A massive blister had formed, then broke on the arch of my right foot, and smaller ones appeared elsewhere. I took stock of my situation. It looked bad, but not so bad that just leaving my feet in the open wouldn't cause everything to dry out and be happy again. The feel of the cool sand against my feet supported this theory. Unfortunately, I still had to deal with the issue of replenishing my water supply. I had gone through 3 litres during the course of the hike, but I knew that there was a stream nearby that had potable water. Leaving everything except my cameras and water bottles behind, I set off barefoot to find the stream. It turned out to be a one kilometer march that involved balancing on logs, and a false turn that took me to someone's home brewed bramble infested trail which I thought was a way around to the stream, but quickly headed in the opposite direction. I did eventually find it, and hobbled back to my gear with replenished containers in tow. I set up camp, and started scouting for some photo possibilities. Once again, the sky was almost completely devoid of cloud cover. I was hoping to have at least some cloud for the sunset, and unfortunately the light was not that great. Out of the dozen or so shots I took, only one I felt was presentable.  Photo 4: Reflections of sunset on Nissen Bight. By the time I bedded down, my feet were already looking better, although I could definitely feel the toll that the hike had taken on me already. Day 4: A Tale of Two Bights I woke up the next morning to see that my tent was quite wet. It had not rained at all, but the incoming fog was enough to soak everything. There was not much to see, but with the right light, sometimes fog makes for good photos. In this case, the morning sun was partially burning through the wall of fog, so I thought I would give it a try.
During my meandering, I was still in bare feet, trying to let them heal from the previous day. I eventually decided that with a couple bandages, I was good to continue to the next camp site, about 5 kilometers away. This time I would do the smart thing and use my gaiters to keep my feet from getting too wet from the mud. The hike over to Nels Bight was uneventful. I arrived to find that it was obviously a popular destination, with around 20 camp sites set up along the length of a very long beach. Unfortunately, it was still fogged in, so my photo taking was quite limited. Nonetheless, I enjoyed the beauty of the beach and the company of some of the other campers around me. One group of campers offered me the last of their chocolate pudding, a very generous and well received offer. Day 5: Venturing to the Light With my camp set up at Nels Bight, I ventured out with a lighter load to head towards the lighthouse by the Cape itself. Although the day was still overcast, the fog had lifted and the sun was trying to poke through at times. On the way, I passed through some beautiful forests and some gorgeous beaches. The forests had a bit of an ethereal quality to them, particularly since everything was glistening with condensation from the constant fog. Also, I got a good feeling of the history of the area as I walked on roads that were already in ruin after being built only just over 50 years ago. I eventually made it to a beach at Guise Bay which was said to be a bit of a hippie haven. That was confirmed as I hiked through and passed by a man wearing only his briefs while he practiced yoga at his campsite.
I made it to the lighthouse itself where I chatted with one of the lighthouse attendants there. He described a bit of what life is like out there during the stormy winter months. First of all, they are dependant on their helicopter deliveries for their supplies. Winds there can get up well past 100 km/h at times, however the attendant there described the storm season as his favourite time to be up there. Some of the information signs in the area described how previously there were lines lashed between the buildings by the lighthouse so that people could hold on to them during windstorms as they went between buildings. I headed back down from the lighthouse and went to the cape itself. While there, I saw an example of how the flora there deals with the local meteorological onslaught. One tree was growing sideways out of a large rock rather than up, since that angle allowed it to be in the lee of the rock, giving it the protection it needed to survive.
I spent a couple of hours at the cape itself just relaxing and watching the waves coming in. Eventually I started on the 2 hour hike back to camp, stopping periodically on the way to enjoy the scenery. Returning to my camp site, I started eating my dinner. As I did so, the sun finally started breaking through the clouds on its way down. I finished my meal just in time to get my gear, set up my tripod, and take advantage of the one sunset that really made the trip for me. I set up both cameras, and went through around 40 shots in the space of a few minutes. When people camped in the area saw my tripod, they walked over from their sheltered area and saw just what they were missing. I quickly had about a half dozen people around me taking photos.
This was for me the best possible ending for a great trip. Day 6: Leaving Paradise My intention was to stay in the park another day, but several reasons prompted me to leave a day earlier: the impending threat of rain in the forecast, the condition of my feet, and my desire to return to the woman I was dating. I packed up my gear and made the 17 kilometer hike back down to the parking lot. My progress back was definitely swifter than on the way out. I had learned how to better deal with going through the mud, my feet were holding up, and I only had to stop once for a quick bite to eat. As a result, I turned the over 6 hour outward trip into a 5 hour return trip. It was uneventful except for a couple places where I sank into knee-high mud. Back at the parking lot, I chatted with a few people who were coming and going. I must have looked quite amusing since my boots and legs were positively coated with mud. I met one hippie-type character heading in to the park who wanted to explore, but knew nothing about the park at all other than a few things that friends had told him. Based on the fact that he had only basic hiking gear with him, I recommended he didn't make the main trek into the park, but that San Josef Bay would be a good place to stay at. He rewarded me for my advice and assistance with some very nice organic cherry tomatos. I worked at cleaning some of the mud off of my boots, gaiters, and finally ventured off. I did a quick calculation to figure out when I would get back to the ferry terminal. It was 3:30, the last ferry left at 9:00, and it took me a bit over 6 hours to reach Cape Scott from the terminal. I booted it down, hoping that I would not have to stop for gas at all along the way since that would have been enough lost time to miss the ferry. At about 8:55 PM, I was still about 15 minutes away from the terminal and my car was sucking fumes, so I decided I would just have to stay on the island overnight. I pulled into a station for gas and got a few munchies for the night. I had a conversation with the gas attendant, and happened to mention to her that I just missed the ferry. She very kindly mentioned that there is also a ferry that runs from Duke Point and heads to Tswassen. It turned out that the last run there was 10:45, so I thanked her profusely and headed to Duke Point. With the 2 hour ride over, then the 45 minute drive home, I finally arrived home at 1:30 AM. The first thing I did was head straight into the shower. Conclusion When I set out to make this trip, my goal was to take photos, to prove to myself that I could handle solo backcountry camping, and to give myself a chance to be able to think without the normal trappings of everyday urban life getting in the way. I definitely think that this trip was a success in each of these ways. I did not take as many photos as my last solo trip, but I did get some good quality shots. My preparation for the trip was such that I was able to deal with the issues that came my way, and despite the condition of my feet, my strength held up throughout the trip. I definitely felt that the combination of the tranquility and the beauty of the area gave me the peace and room for thought that I sought. I would definitely be willing to go back and make the trip again. Map of Cape Scott
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