Day 6 Thrasher Cove to Gordon River km 75

Day 6. Possibly our hardest day yet. Hard to fathom since we've had some pretty hard days. Nevertheless, they tell you at orientation that the last 5 km will take 5 hours. The last ferry is 3:30 so we left early so as to not miss it.


There are no switchbacks on the West Coast Trail. That is, there are no horizontal switchbacks. What there are can only be described as Vertical Switch Backs. Normally switchbacks run horizontally, but the last 5 km had switchbacks that ran vertically. For 5 km we walked up and down continuously. Over a mountain. I kept thinking this is the last uphill, then it will be all downhill to the beach and the ferry. But I was continuously wrong. When I finally came to the last "downhill", it was in the form of the longest steepest ladder yet. But it fed out onto the beach and right onto the ferry back to civilization so I was ok with it. (Actually I quite enjoyed the ladders).


This leg of the trail was quite busy compared to the rest of the trail. We usually only saw a handful of hikers a day. But on this trail we passed many people just starting out. I think if I had started from this end I would have given up after day 1. Not that this section was any harder than anything we had already done. But that is just the point, I was used to hard stuff. But if I had encountered it on day 1, I'm not sure I would have been able to keep going to day 2. Except that I would have had to because there would have been no way I would have done day 1 again.

Longest, steepest ladder. Also last ladder (smiley face). 

"THERE'S NO TURNING BACK NOW!"

End of the trail. 

Happy to be finished! 

These two shared a touching and smelly end of the trail hug.  

We took the ferry across to Gordon River and turned in our permits, officially ending our West Coast Trail experience.  Then I promptly removed my hiking boots. My feet were killing me. Part of me wanted to light them on fire. (My boots, not my feet). The last 5 km had taken us 3.5 hours. The shuttle to Victoria wasn't due until 6 pm. 8 minutes and 4.8 Km in a truck taxi took us from the West Coast Trail Office to the Port Renfrew (8 minutes to go 5 km! Who knew you could move so fast!) and ate lunch at The Renfrew Pub.  It was all so good. Food that didn't come out of a mylar package. Onion rings. Sigh.  I had the fish tacos. It was so nice to sit on a real chair, inside real walls with the sunshine filtering through real windows. We used real toilets that flushed and didn't smell and we didn't worry about rationing our real toilet paper. We washed our hands in real warm water. WARM WATER! That came out of a real tap. We had wifi so were able to let our loved ones know we made it. We sat there and drank Dr. Pepper as long as we dared.
Finally, the Bliss that was promised in Blisters and Bliss.
Then we walked all over Port Renfrew. (I wore my crocs.) We had ice cream at the Coastal Kitchen Café.
Then we sat at the bus stop and waited for the shuttle.

Mickey "chillin" and Jeremy napping. Again.

The ride back to Victoria was entertaining as we listened to other hikers phone their loved ones to describe their experience.  One said, "I can't even talk to you about it, Mummy, because you just don't understand how hard it really was."
I get it. I really do. It was hard. But it was fun too. And I enjoyed it. I was with an amazing group of wonderful people. But it really is hard to talk about with someone who doesn't know how hard it was. Because it was hard.


In Victoria we had a shower. An actual real shower. Between McKinley and I, we used the entire bar of soap. I showered again the next morning and still found more dirt. We ate at McDonald's (thank you all day breakfast) and slept the sleep of the dead on a real bed with no sand in the real sheets. We took a taxi to the airport the next morning and suddenly I was back in my own house. My legs were scraped and scarred. I only have a tan on the south side of my body. I have one blister on one heel. I can't feel the balls of my feet or my toes and I never want to put on hiking boots again. I feel exhilarated and exhausted.
But I'm home.
And I hiked the West Coast Trail.
I proved Austen wrong and it looks like Ed won't have to find a date to my funeral after all.
I am so lucky to have had this experience.
Bliss is not wearing hiking boots.
Bliss is accomplishment.
Bliss is being home again.