Finally, the day to begin the trail. Now that we didn’t have the bikes, we simply drove the truck and trailer to the Juan de Fuca Marine Trailhead parking lot. There is a place to grab an envelope and tear it into three sections. Section 3 goes on your dash, to prove you registered, so you can park at the trailhead. Section 2 goes with you in your backpack, to prove you registered, so you can camp at the provided campsites. Section 1 goes in the vault/post thingie at the start of the trail, with $10 per person per night in it, cash only of course. So parking wasn’t an issue, though we took up a lot of room with the trailer. I felt vaguely guilty about that, so left a note on the dash next to our receipt, apologising.
With that, we set off. Around the crack of 11. Oh well, if we weren’t getting an early start, we did get a lot of needed sleep, and at least we were on the trail finally. Packed and ready, and I was pretty sure I had everything I needed. And if not, it probably wasn’t that important anyways.
From the Juan de Fuca trailhead parking lot (shared with China Beach day use area parking lot) we headed off towards Mystic beach. The day was overcast but warm enough, and the first section of the hike was easy, a well worn trail through tall trees, with clear ground below, owing to the dense and soaring canopy far over our heads. We made our way over a suspension bridge, jumping and swaying the bridge under each other’s feet. Two kilometers later, and one steep staircase cut out of a fallen tree, we ended up on Mystic Beach.
The fog had clung to the flanks of the island, and aptly named Mystic beach faded away into the mist. A waterfall splashed down in the distance, a rope swing appeared as someone swung on it, and campers sprawled out, a late breakfast before them, a late start on their last day of the trail, so close to the end. And before it all, the ocean. The gentle waves found in the Juan de Fuca strait lapped at the sandy shore, the reassuring susurrus that would be the acoustic backdrop to this adventure.
We smiled, taking it in, resting under the weight of our bags. As it was still early, we pushed on for the next campsite, Bear Beach. It was only another 6 km down the trail, at marker 8.7km. We were still in the “moderate” section of the trail. Should be no problem!
We trudged down the beach, stride easy, and settling into the rhythm of the trail. I was taking it all in, letting my mind cast over what we would need for dinner that night, and how I would unpack my bag. A gentle thought process, comfortable in the cadence of my stride. The kilometers before us, the few behind us. I was ready for this adventure, and looking forward to the next few days by the ocean. I had prepared for this, had packed carefully, and felt confident in my gear. I was getting pretty good at this whole hiking thing, I mused to myself. I was ready for anything!
It was around kilometer 4 that I realized I had forgotten to pack toilet paper.
Wherever you are, Be There 