Tag Archives: rainforest

Into the Mystic: The Forgotten Forest, Part 2

Only a few pages of the 2007 calendar were to turn before favourable spring weather had us thinking about a return to Kennedy Creek. It was the first day of April when Chris and I began our early day hiking along the Cedar Mills Trail in Lynn Headwaters Park. The idea, this time, was simply to try and cover some ground we hadn’t the first time. Would we be April fools? Well, yes, but read on and find out how!

On reaching the Third Debris Chute, the first mission was fording Lynn Creek. A word to the wise and wary: you have to be comfortable with cold, fast moving water, especially when you do this in spring. Your trip can easily be over before it begins as sometimes it’s simply too dangerous! Techniques will vary. Sometimes I will leave my boots on and walk straight across and sometimes I carry my boots. I recommend hiking poles or finding a long sturdy branch to help with balance as well. Last but not least, put your cameras in a resealable plastic bag and pack extra clothing in case you end up going for an unplanned swim. A climbing helmet is also not a bad idea not only for the creek crossing but also for all the clambering over rocks and logs you’ll be doing!

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Not sure if I was smiling here or just chattering from the cold!

Chris had reasoned that on this trek we ought to work our way up to about the 450m elevation mark then traverse north toward Wickenden Creek. This made sense as then we would cover exploring the belt of forest just below the one we had walked the first time. No sooner were our boots back on after the ford than we were faced with the unexpected  fast moving waters of lower Kennedy Creek, but we managed to steeplechase that with minimal difficulty.

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Lower Kennedy Creek

Once past the creek it was a matter of bashing our way uphill for about half an hour. On our first trip we had followed the crude flagged route that heads west up to Kennedy Falls after you cross Lynn Creek but on this day we were well north of that line. Morning mist drifted through the trees as the sound of the rushing torrents faded. Silence descended, and almost magically we were again among the giants.

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Morning in the forest
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Chris with his first find of the day, a cedar over 12 feet in diameter

Normally we think of ourselves as tree hunters, but on this excursion, as with the first one, the trees were more or less finding us! I was surprised by the sheer number of them as much as anything else. This was a stand of forest in which many trees had reached way over 400 years in age.

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Another giant, well over 10 feet in diameter
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If a tree falls in the forest, I still have to climb over, under, or around it. This fallen cedar was quite a blockade!

The quietude was interrupted from time to time by the rhythmic sounds of a nearby woodpecker building a home,  and punctuated by the occasionally inane Simpsons’ banter that seems to follow Chris and I wherever we go. On we thrashed, in the direction of an unnamed creek not far south of the Wickenden drainage, with plenty of distractions along the way.

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The way a forest is supposed to look
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Find after find, could this day get any better? It’s all a blur now.
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Every tree is unique in its own way

Another half hour passed, and we found ourselves in a steep creek gully that was peculiarly bright and open. On subsequent trips I discovered that avalanches are not infrequent there, as the gully is at the bottom of a chute that shows evidence of very forceful slides. For a moment, I looked uphill, where I could see the spiky tops of more ancient cedars, then downhill, where I could see the The Needles in sharp relief across the Lynn Creek Valley. Where to go next?

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Spiked tops above usually means an old tree and usually a big one, where cedars are concerned
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Ironically, only months later we would end up beneath this rock face below the Middle Needle

In proof of the old saying “You can’t see the forest for the trees”, suddenly Chris was on his way up the chute, saying “I think we have something here!” And so he did! It was a huge western red cedar, most likely about 500 years old yet relatively young in appearance judging by its trunk wear. Because of where it was growing it was difficult to say exactly what its diameter was was but it was definitely in the neighbourhood of 15 feet wide, perhaps more. What is likely is that if it reaches the age of the oldest trees in the park it will almost certainly someday be among the largest. Here are a few looks at this grand old specimen!

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Just figuring out where to measure it took a lot of time!
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A look up into its massive crown
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One of my happiest moments. We named this tree the Kennewick Giant. Photo by Chris H.
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Here is Chris getting a closer look
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Yet another look at this wall of wood

Well, that tree had certainly made our day memorable, but as it turned out the walk home delivered just as much wonder! We were now at an elevation of roughly 350m, and so opted to follow that lower line back toward the Kennedy Creek again.

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Trees rooted atop a rock face
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Massive tree fallen on the hillside
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Mylar balloons…I have found countless samples commemorating almost every occasion and birthday. Someday I’ll write a story about them all!
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Cedars  in early afternoon light
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Magic

 

Not to sound trite, but this was one of those days that has you really appreciating the wonders of nature. I advocate responsible forest management but I find it hard to understand that some people would only see this forest in dollar signs. In this day and age there is really no excuse for harvesting old growth forest. Thankfully, Lynn Headwaters Park has seen its last logger.

Midday gave way to afternoon, and we decided to stop for lunch near a tree both of us nearly walked past. Life was good.

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Afternoon light on another ancient cedar
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Twisted Column

 

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Mighty and flared, and over 400 years old
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Chris taking note of our discoveries
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Our lunch time companion. A 13 foot wide tree I called the Keyhole Cedar

Half an hour later we were making our way across lower Kennedy Creek again. The waters were flowing even harder than they had been in the morning, which is typical of creeks during the spring snowmelt.

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We had just crossed the creek when I spied something odd lying on the ground and picked it up and showed it to Chris, who exclaimed “What? No way?!”  It turned out he’d lost his lens cap on a previous excursion to the area and had been doing without it for some time. And they say it’s hard to find a needle in a haystack? Not for me!

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A short time later we were crossing Lynn Creek again even as we planned our next adventure. Several hikers were having lunch on the other side and from their bemused looks they were no doubt wondering where in the world we had come from. It had been another successful day

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Stay tuned for the next chapter, because the story is far from done!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Strolling the Ancient Cedars Boardwalk

A couple of weeks ago, when we were passing through Mt Revelstoke National Park, I managed a short hike on the Ancient Cedars Boardwalk. As my treks go, it’s a relatively effortless one, but I like to stop there every so often to enjoy this forest. It’s a stand dominated by western redcedars, and while few of the trees exceed six feet in diameter, it’s notable that they are nevertheless very old, some perhaps five hundred years in age. You see, because they grow at a much higher elevation and experience a high volume of snow, they take considerably longer to reach mature size. Parks Canada did a fine job of building this trail for all to enjoy, in the process also protecting the fragile understory, where delicate ferns and thorny Devil’s Club can be found, among many other types of plants. It’s not uncommon to see woodpeckers, squirrels, hummingbirds, deer, or even an occasional black bear in the area. The boardwalk is just half a kilometre long and suitable for almost all ages and abilities. Here is a link to the parks website if you are interested in the park trails…

http://www.pc.gc.ca/eng/pn-np/bc/revelstoke/activ/activ2.aspx

Here then, is a tour of the trail. I hope you enjoy it well!

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Cedars in sunlight
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Sunlit forest
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Devil’s Club leaves
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Quiet Morning
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A clearing
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Standing strong
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Panoramic View
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Devil’s Club bud and thorns
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Sunlight on cedar
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And it’s dog approved too!

 

 

Three Days in March, An Island Sojourn

With a few precious days off and a rare chance to get our whole family together, we headed off to Vancouver Island two Saturdays ago for a short camping vacation.

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BC Ferries, our cruise ship for the trip to Nanaimo
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My daughter with our illustrious family dog Amigo

The idea was to catch an afternoon ferry over to Departure Bay from Horseshoe Bay then hang out in Nanaimo for the first night. There’s a nice private campground at the mouth of the Nanaimo River called  Living Forest Campground that we like to stay at there.

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Georgia Strait on a sunny afternoon

The boat ride over was relatively uneventful and pleasant, so we arrived in Nanaimo at around 230 pm. With some time to spare, we stopped in at Petroglyph Provincial Park for some exploration. We had driven past the park sign for years without ever visiting , and I’m quite glad we finally did. In addition to the petroglyphs, there are also some bouldering possibilities there. We were there for about half an hour, and enjoyed the stay immensely. http://www.env.gov.bc.ca/bcparks/explore/parkpgs/petroglyph/#

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Queen of the Hill

My daughter has an innate talent for climbing just about anything, so of course she ran up this face to a tiny ledge and scrambled up from there! Naturally, the slide down was twice as much fun, so she did it again and so did I!

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One of the petroglyphs we saw. Is this one authentic? Not so sure
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These are some of the petroglyphs we were certain were legitimate historical relics
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There was some bouldering to be had here as well!

The views at the campground did not disappoint. We were able to see not only the Nanaimo River and Gabriola Island but much of Nanaimo Harbour as well. The blend of the estuary’s natural scenery and the industry beyond gave us plenty to look at, and we passed the rest of the evening drinking cold beverages and listening to the calls of barred owls by the campfire before turning in.

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The view from our campground, with Gabriola Island in the distance
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Cliffs along one of the campground’s trails
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Nanaimo River

The campground has a number of trails that give you a fine view of the river delta and the area is well known for its birdwatching opportunities as well.

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Nanaimo Harbour gathering dusk

The following day we awoke to overcast skies and headed south along Highway 1 toward Victoria before swinging west toward Sooke on Highway 14. The spring rains hit hard late Sunday morning, as we arrived in Langford to fuel up.

Sunday’s destination? French Beach Provincial Park. It has become a family favourite of ours over the years. Set in a beautiful forest of cedar and Sitka spruce, it features a cobblestone beach that crashes and rattles when the Pacific surf crashes its shores. If you’re lucky, you can also catch glimpses of migrating gray whales in March and April.

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French Beach

Along the way, my wife and daughter got a chance to stop off at a local meadery called Tugwell Creek near the town of Shirley to sample its wares.

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http://tugwellcreekfarm.com

Mead, if you’ve not heard of it before, is an alcoholic beverage, wine to be specific, made with honey! Tasty stuff, and something to do while you wait out the rainstorm, which by now was hitting us in full stride! We pulled in at French Beach by mid afternoon, and after a very wet hike on the nearby trails, we spent the rest of the day drying out.

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One rainy afternoon!
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Coastal Sitka Spruce rainforest

These rocks below are the cobbles that generate the signature sounds of French Beach, especially on days of high surf and brisk winds. This place as as unique for its sound experience as it is for anything else.

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Sometimes it rains so much on the coast that attempting to have a campfire is almost an exercise in futility, and this Sunday was just such a day. We amused ourselves by drinking, reading, creating dinner, and playing games, all good fun!

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The kids clowning it up on the beach
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The shoreline, with its wind battered Sitka Spruce
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Intertidal marsh created by high surf

 

Monday morning dawned with much improved weather, and upon seeing some sunlight, I made for the beach that morning. The tide was at ebb, but the waves were much higher and the beach clattered with its all too familiar sounds. I was able to see across the waters to the Olympic Peninsula and Washington state, in the United States.

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After the rains

While there were no whales in sight, the odd Harbour Seal popped its head out in curiosity. Seas were calm, and birds could be heard when the surf receded. Listen, if you like, to the sounds of French Beach in the video below…

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Salal and driftwood
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Calm seas
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Salmonberry in bloom

 

I returned to camp and ended up going back to the beach again with my son, who had just awakened. We spent another half hour there before breakfast. He has a natural love of being near water, even to the point that he often prefers to walk in the rain.

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Clatter!

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This photo below had me thinking back to a time when he couldn’t peer through an outhouse  window six feet off the ground. Time flies, and your kids grow up fast!

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“Scared ya, didn’t I?” He says to me.

We eventually decided to head north toward Port Renfrew, with the idea of camping on the beach at Jordan River. Unfortunately, the CRD has temporarily closed the area to camping while a dam above the town is being assessed for safety reasons. Some time was spent on the beach watching surfers and paddleboarders out on the break.

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Jordan River, popular with sufers and paddleboarders

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Jordan River surf shack through the trees

Since the sunshine was holding true, the choice was made to reverse directions and retrace our steps toward Nanaimo again. This time the plan was to stay the night at Rathtrevor Beach Provincial Park near Parksville. Though this meant a little longer on the road, it would also make for a more relaxed return trip the next day as the park is not all that far from Departure Bay. On the way back toward Sooke we stopped at Sandcut Beach Regional Park, which is not too far from French Beach, and my daughter and I hiked down to the shores.

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Sandcut Beach

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It was an ideal cruising day for the trip around the horn, as the sunshine persisted. We even pulled over  to pick up some farm fresh eggs in Sooke along the way. On this Monday, even the people driving the Malahat near Victoria didn’t seem to have their usual frenzied sense of urgency, and we hit little or no traffic until we arrived in Nanaimo.

It was about 4 pm when we rolled into Rathtrevor Beach. Once there, I tended to splitting some firewood and we took turns walking the beach and trails. Rathtrevor is a special place to me, as I always see something interesting that I hadn’t before, whether it be animals, trees, or distant mountains.

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Afternoon on the beach at Rathtrevor

The park is noted not only for its beach but also for its forests of old growth Douglas Fir. There are very few low elevation fir forests that remain intact on Vancouver Island as most of them have been harvested long ago. There is considerable biodiversity and wildlife that lives on there despite the area’s popularity in the summer months. The beach and its reasonably sheltered waters make it ideal for watersports like kayaking and canoeing too.

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Douglas Fir

I had not noticed on my last visit, but you can see the hulking mass of Tantalus Mountain, 2605 metres tall, visible in the distance.

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Tantalus Mountain, in Tantalus Provincial Park, across the waters, 55X zoom
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The forest

I was particularly interested in seeing what the sunset had to offer after dinner and a couple of very cold beers, so I walked back to the beach just as the sun was beginning to set.

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Texada Island in the distance
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Looks like I found me a friend who also likes sunset watching!
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Tantalus again, with alpenglow
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Campfire!

I had already known that Rathtrevor was an epic place to catch the sunrise, but I certainly was more than contented with the sunset too. It was a very quiet scene, silent but for the odd call of the occasional owl. It’s very obvious why the people of Parksville enjoy this place so much as it’s one of the island’s most beautiful parks. More beer and laughter ensued late into the night, but that wasn’t going to deter me from getting up early to see the sunrise!

It’s 6 am Tuesday morning, and I’m rolling out of bed trying not to wake anyone, a normal occurrence on our road trips. As someone who craves solitude, something I take naturally to but that was well reinforced spending mornings with my father while younger, there is really nothing quite like the sun’s first rays. A mere five minute walk had me on the beach to begin the day.

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Gerald Island is the largest, I think, with Mistaken Island and some of the Ballenas Islands in there as well
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Looking toward Howe Sound and the Britannia Range
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Heart of the sunrise

This, however, was no ordinary sunrise. The whole time I was there, the natural world virtually paraded before me. First, there were the calls of loons, followed by herons swooping by above. Then came the sounds of eagles, woodpeckers, and songbirds. Canada Geese flew across the waters at intervals as did Brants, and the entire time I was serenaded by the barking of sea lions.

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My friend’s back too!
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Sunlit trees of Rathtrevor Beach

It was soon evident that there were sea lions everywhere, perhaps as many as fifty, from where I was observing. I later was to discover that there was a run of herring going on, so of course the food source was what was drawing all the attention. When I returned to the beach later with my son, we also spotted a killer whale breaching in the distance and a few harbour seals, and not long after that a sizable pod of dolphins also showed up to the party. It was one of the most memorable experiences I’ve had in some time.

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One last look…

Reluctantly, I headed back to camp for breakfast, and the girls set out for a walk on the trails for a while before we left for home. As I write this today, with the rain crashing down here on Vancouver’s North Shore, it reminds me of how much I appreciate sunny spring days here on the west coast. This trip was well worth the time. Here is another image taken on the deck of the ferry, looking toward Mt Garibaldi, the closest volcano to Greater Vancouver. Until next time…

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The Saga of the Red Creek Fir, Part 3 of 3

Time now for the conclusion of this chronicle. The sundial moves forward yet another year, to May of 2009, and, you guessed it, we’re chilling again at the Horseshoe Bay Ferry Terminal. It’s way too early to be drinking anything but coffee, but it’s another bluebird day, and this time we’re going to find that tree, right? The Simpsons imitations are flowing freely, and I’m doing my best Troy McClure ( credit here to The Simpsons, all rights reserved, and the late great Phil Hartman )…

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” Hi, we’re tree hunters Mick and Chris, you may remember us from such failed  Red Creek Fir expeditions as last year, and the year before that. Will we be third time lucky? ”

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Sunrise on the ferry, again!

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This time, though, as far as I was concerned, it was going to work out just fine. I had contacted my friend and fellow hiker Scott, who lives in Victoria, and had been to see the tree before, in 2005. The plan was to pick him up along the way and head out to Port Renfrew on Highway 14. Morning sunshine provided some fine views on the boat ride to Nanaimo.

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On a nice day there is nothing like hanging out on the ferry deck!

It was smooth sailing to Nanaimo, and trouble free driving to Victoria, where we met Scott. He’s what you’d call a true Vancouver Islander, in that he loves the lifestyle there and sees little need to venture to the mainland very often. I can’t say as I blame him, as I certainly enjoy my time there too! Much of the drive was spent catching up and discussing prospective climbs in remote regions of The Island, especially the isolated northern ranges, which I’ve not visited at all.

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The view from Highway 14 at Jordan River

We had planned in advance to approach via the new logging spur, so we crossed over the San Juan River and then doubled back over the Lens Creek Bridge. Hopefully, this time, the tree wouldn’t see us coming and hide, you know, like it did the last time.

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Cutblock views
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Nicely graded new Red 100!

The new spur lands you at about the 13 km mark on the old mainline,  and in Scott’s memory the trailhead was quite close to where the roads intersected. It was decided we’d try to spot the tree from the vehicle at first but when that proved fruitless, we jumped out and began to scrutinize every tree and rock for signs of disturbance. After about ten minutes of searching, suddenly we heard a holler from Scott, he had found the trail! Chris drove back and parked in a clearing with a pile of old culverts. If you go, pull over on driver’s right, the trailhead is on the same side of the road just upriver from where you’re parked. We rebuilt the cairn, which had been dismantled, and found some flagging tape to do some marking where the path begins.

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Here is where we parked, and…
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…not far past the intersection of the two roads, on the same side of the road that we parked on is a cairn that marks the trailhead

Ironically, the tree is a very short stroll from the road, and the last time we visited we were, unwittingly, not much more than 150 metres from where it stands, As an added bonus, you get to see three very old Western Redcedars that are just downhill from the world champion  Douglas Fir. They are called The Three Sisters, appropriately enough, and all are over 350 years old.

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Scott and Chris on their way to the tree!
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One of the Three Sisters
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Trillium in bloom
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Another of the trio of ancient cedars

I clearly recall the elation I felt on the hike in, as we’d already devoted over 40 hours on three separate excursions in the quest to see this forest giant, after all! At that point, though, we’d probably have crawled there on broken glass, I recall Chris saying, only half jokingly. It had been since the early 1990s that I had first read about the tree, and I had been sure it would prove almost mythical in stature.

The next thing I knew, Scott called out excitedly. “It’s still here!” And so it was, though it had lost a huge limb from its ancient upper canopy, perhaps in the great storm of December 2006. Scott  was just as impressed as he’d been when he first visited, and as for us, I’m not sure if we were more in awe or just dumbfounded that we could finally see it!

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Scott, happy to see an old friend!

The tree is almost 14 feet in diameter, and is the world”s largest member of the pine genus as well. Its future status is reasonably ensured, but nearby logging has made it somewhat vulnerable and exposed to rough coastal windstorms. Still, it has managed to survive a millennia, so perhaps it will survive another.

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Chris, in wide eyed disbelief that he finally can see this tree!

Huge valley bottom specimens such as this are the rarest of the rare, and it’s not likely very many remain. We need to make every effort to preserve trees like it for others to see.

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Time for me to get a closer look!

This image below is a five frame vertical panorama that I took of Scott and the tree. It really puts into perspective just how immense it is. I had never seen a fir over 10 feet in diameter before and to see one 14 feet in diameter was remarkable. It’s about 240 feet in height, but the top leaders were blown off years ago so it’s possible this tree was once close to 400 feet tall. We could actually get close without trampling the root system as we were basically standing on the fallen limbs.

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Scott and the Red Creek Fir. We will forever be thankful for his assistance in finding the tree!
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A look toward the top of this forest giant
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From the ground upwards! This tree was probably over 350 feet tall at one time

 

We spent quite a while clambering  around and looking at different aspects, here are a few more.

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1000 year old bark
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The massive trunk of the world champion Red Creek Fir

The broken limb that had crashed relatively recently nearby was as big as a young second growth tree all by itself.

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Scott surfing the massive limb which we think broke off during the storm of December 2006
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The old sign, now fallen to earth nearby

You could certainly build a few houses from the timber if this giant were ever to fall, but I hope that that day never comes to pass!

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Well, maybe just one last look!

Now it was time now to head home, but I found it especially hard to leave. We consoled ourselves with the knowledge that now we at least knew where to find it, but it almost seemed like we should spend a week there, considering how long it had taken to see this tree.

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World’s largest member of the pine genus. A Douglas Fir (pseudotsuga menzieszi) is not a true fir, rather it is a member of the pine family

It was a happy trek back to Victoria, where we brought Scott home. How does a guy from Toronto end up living near the corner of Yonge St and Toronto Ave in Victoria? I’m calling that a strange coincidence, to put it mildly. We bid adieu, and continued on the highway back to Departure Bay, this time with a sense of accomplishment. If you read this, thank you Scott!

So, what were we going to do now, with this mission impossible finally accomplished?Well, we’d probably find something else to obsess with, after all, it’s what we live for! Time for yet another ferry ride to close out this epic. I couldn’t wait for the cold beer that I knew awaited me in the fridge at home, hours away!

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Homeward bound again!

Thanks to all of you who actually took the time to read the whole tale. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.  Until next time…..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Saga of the Red Creek Fir, Part 2 of 3

The months rolled by, the pages of the calendar turned, sometimes slowly, sometimes swiftly, as life goes. Now it was May of 2008. Chris and I had resolved to try again on a spring day to find the Red Creek Fir and so, there we were again, somewhat livelier, in line again at 5 am for the ferry to Nanaimo. Filled with laughter and optimism, how could we possibly fail?  [sarcasm/] Well, keep reading, for more insight into that rather unlikely scenario [/sarcasm].

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Memorable views
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Silence of the early morning

We spent much of our time that morning on the wind blasted deck of the ferry, identifying distant peaks and planning future treks. The rest of our time was taken up watching the trials and tribulations of a very confused fellow passenger. He had had great difficulty in listening to the traffic employees direct him where to park when boarding, and later he arrived late to his car, having forgotten exactly where it was. He became thusly known as “Dude, where’s my car?”, after the title of a recent movie neither of us had actually seen. I could certainly relate to his struggles, as I’ve had plenty of trouble finding my truck in mall parking lots over the years and I’m hopeless at finding my keys!

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Soon enough, we were on the road again, intent on taking Highway 18 to Lake Cowichan so that we could save time by driving the Harris Creek Main across the island to Port Renfrew. Here are some scenes from our trip along the road, including a stop to see the Harris Creek Spruce, 400 years old and over 12 feet in diameter.

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What up? Logging companies trying to save money on security?
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Sadly, much of the heart of Vancouver Island has been logged like this. Estimates are that a mere 5% of valley bottom ecosystems remain untouched.
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The Harris Creek Spruce, which was preserved in part with the help of logging companies, I have heard
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Harris Creek, for which Harris Main, the backroad we traveled, is named

In due time, we’d arrived at the point of reckoning, as we crossed the bridge over the San Juan River.

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San Juan River

A mere five minutes more, and we pulled into the entrance of Red Creek Main, with about 12 kms to go until we found the tree.

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Hey now, that doesn’t look so bad…
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….but, on the other hand, don’t say they didn’t warn you!

Not without some mildly harrowing moments negotiating a washout or two, Chris managed to skillfully pilot us to where the trailhead supposedly was. Somehow though, things seemed altered from the original description. There was a new spur that came in from the hill above on the right that appeared to be the new road in, and the old road had been extended for what looked like a km or two at least. We opted to walk the road, searching for any sign of a trail, but we could not find anything promising. We did not have either a GPS or a set of coordinates for the tree to go by, so then we drove up the hillside to see if the tree was visible from above, even engaging in some fruitless bushwhacking for a while. I’m not sure whether it was just collective mental exhaustion or just plain inability to think logically, but we just could not figure it out at the time. By this time Angry Chris had made his appearance and he was NOT happy with the Red Creek Fir gods! The score, after the inevitable capitulation that followed, was Red Creek Fir, 2, Chris and Mick, 0. Shut out again, and none too pleased!

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Angry Homer Simpson. Not my photo, may or may not have resembled Chris at the time. (copyright Simpsons all rights reserved)

Now what? Well, Plan B suggestion for the day was to explore the new spur, called Red 100, to see where that led us, and then possibly to see if we could head down Gordon River Main and locate the Braden Creek Canyon. You see, Chris has an obsession with canyoneering. For the uninitiated, that’s a sport where you don a wetsuit and pack dry bags and climbing gear in order to descend a creek or river whatever best way you can. I’ve now tried it once, and so I can understand how he got addicted, but that’s a tale for another day.

We caught all the breaks on the next part of our day, and in half an hour we had found the Braden Creek Spur, and we got out to scout the upper canyon. This was well worth the time, and almost assuaged  the considerable frustration that was renting a room in our heads by now. Here is a look at Braden Creek. I’m still not sure or don’t recall whether Chris has descended it yet or if he will any time soon, as he’s living in Utah as I write this.

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Braden Creek, where we dropped in
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There is something special about exploring creek valleys!
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Fast and angry water here!
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This canyon has beautiful rock, much of it granitic
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By far my favourite view of this canyon, what lies beyond that opening?

So, what was left? A long ride back to Departure Bay, to catch the ferry to Horseshoe Bay again. We began to relate to how the 1982, and especially the 1994 Vancouver Canucks must have felt when their dreams were dashed, but no, we were not going to quit! This was far, far, far, from over. Like Homer Simpson gunning for that last remaining doughnut, we vowed to return. God willing, for our own good and the good of our wives’  sanity. Who knows, maybe we’d even succeed next time?

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Cruising by Nanaimo airport again

Yet another lengthy day came to a close 18 hours after it began, and the sunset views on the boat ride home put it all into perspective, our problems being, on a world scale, really rather trivial at best…

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Mt Baker and sunset. Just for fun this time we caught the Duke Point sailing
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Watching the wake
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Thanks again, BC Ferries!

Until next time, same bat time, same bat channel…

The Saga of the Red Creek Fir, Part 1 of 3

There are times that a wilderness excursion is but a simplistic jaunt, that is to say: you make a plan, you follow that plan, and everything goes as planned. Here then, is a trilogy or an epic of sorts, describing that what can go swimmingly for some can somehow become an exercise in perseverance for others.

The principals? Myself, and good friend and fellow tree enthusiast Chris. Chris is that guy you know who has been pretty much everywhere you’ve been and a lengthy list of places you’ve never heard of. We’ve both spent a lot of time hunting for big trees in B.C., Washington, Oregon, and assorted other locations. The objective? Vancouver Island’s Red Creek Fir, the world’s largest Douglas Fir, residing some 13 kms from Port Renfrew on the reputedly heavily damaged Red Creek Main. We won’t have to  actually discover this leviathan, as its location has been very well known since 1976, all we’ll have to do is find the time to get there! Ha, if only it had been that easy….

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“Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk, woob, woob woob, woob!” We’re like the Three Stooges, only there’s just two of us. Not sure which two

This story begins in February of 2007, with the two of us struggling to remain awake at the Horseshoe Bay Ferry Terminal, waiting at 5 am for the ferry. Chris wondered aloud if we might not be wasting our time. There had been an epic windstorm in December of 2006 -the one that levelled scores of trees in Vancouver’s Stanley Park – and those gale force winds had hit the west coast of Vancouver Island at gusts of over 140 km/hr. Still, we were enthused, as the tree had lived for 1000 years and so we hoped it had survived.

Due to the recent snows we decided to take Highway 1 to Victoria and then drive Highway 14 to Port Renfrew. It was an idyllic winter day, as the skies had cleared and were now blue and inviting. Some 5 1/2 hours later,  we were at the head of the Red Creek Main and began our journey down the old rail grade logging road, but not for long….. “Whoa, what’s that?” Chris exclaimed. In front of us was a number of full sized trees that had fallen across the road. While I’d brought a chainsaw and some fuel for just such an occasion, we’d have needed most of the day just to clear them out, and who knew what lay beyond? As conditions were, a 24 km hike was definitely out of the question.

Due to time constraints, we now had to opt for Plan B, to cross the San Juan River for Lens Creek and a hike to see Chester’s Grove, a beautiful stand of Sitka Spruce. This was a hike that did not disappoint in the least! However, the final score that day was Red Creek Fir, 1, Chris and Mick, 0.

After parking at the Lens Creek Bridge, it was a mere 15 minute stroll to the trees, with views of the river and a truly primordial group of trees that I was elated to see.

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An old tow truck. When you see this you’re not too far from the grove
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Almost there!

Chris had been there before, and this time we managed to measure several of them; the largest were over 13 feet in diameter and easily 500 years old. Enjoy our walk through the grove through these images…

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A primeval forest
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Nature’s art
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A look into the forest canopy
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It almost looks like Chris is running here, but really he’s high stepping through dense undergrowth
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A beautiful grove
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The moss clad limbs of a giant Bigleaf Maple, an unexpected find
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Chris measuring a huge Sitka Spruce
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Picea Sitchensis, the Sitka Spruce
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The riverfront
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Looking for that perfect photograph
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Primordial
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The moss covered trunks are a habitat unto themselves
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Stillness and winter waters
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Me and a forest giant…Photo by Chris

With time passing quickly, it was time to hike back to the Jeep, and begin the long trek homeward on the highway, and finally the ferry, and then the highway again. What began in darkness at 430 am with an endless stream of Simpsons imitations ended in darkness at 930 pm with more of the same. Were we smart enough to shelf our pursuit of the elusive forest giant? Well, no, you must be thinking about two much smarter guys, because we’d be back for another try! Read on if you will, to the next chapter of this expurgated trilogy….

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Sitka Spruce cones

In Search of the Eagles Nest Grove

It was May of 2004, and I found myself biking up the Eastside Road in the Lower Seymour Conservation Reserve, a favourite destination of mine. At one time, not so long ago, this valley was home to most magnificent stands of old growth forest. Now, though much has been lost, the area’s timber is  protected for future generations to enjoy. That day, I was in search of the Eagles Nest Grove.

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Mayers Creek plunging down its canyon from the Needles above

A cool spring morning warmed gradually, with morning mist occasionally drifting in. There was much to lose myself in as I climbed the steep incline near the 8 km mark. The grove, according to an old Western Canada Wilderness Committee map, was roughly three more kms away. Discovered by noted tree hunter Ralf Kelman, the Eagles Nest Grove was named for the sizable nest atop one of the larger Douglas firs.

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One of the many creeks that cross Eastside Road

On my way to the grove, I decided to pay a visit to Rolf Lake, now called Lost Lake. The lake is nestled at the bottom of the Rolf Creek Valley, which has its headwaters high above in the snowfields of the Seymour-Runner Col. If you’re lucky, you’ll see Pacific Newts basking on the shore there, and sometimes a deer or a black bear.

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The shores of Lost Lake are littered with old logging detritus which as it turns out is quite helpful to the local newt population
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Water Lily between logs, shore of Lost (aka Rolf) Lake
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You never know where you’ll find an outhouse

After a brief sojourn rambling about the lakeshore, I stopped for lunch and then continued up the Seymour Valley. Once I reached the 11 km mark, the familiar screech of young eagles broke the early morning silence. I stashed my bike quickly among the trees, and made off in search of the sounds. In no time at all, I’d found the grove without the use of the map I’d brought, instead, nature had guided me there. The grove was relatively small, but I was glad it had survived the saws of nearby logging. Many of the trees were between 300 and 700 years old, and the understory was alive with tremendous biodiversity. Nearby, Douglas Squirrels chattered their warnings and  a Downy Woodpecker busied herself foraging for insects. It’s a treasured place that sees few if any visits and the kind of refuge that is at the very root of my love for nature. “Well worth the 38 km bike ride,” I thought. In that moment, it donned on me that it was my birthday. I could not have imagined a better present for the occasion. Here then, is more of what I saw…

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Eagles Nest Grove’s quiet beauty
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Bearberry growing on the forest floor
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Enjoying the presence of this fallen giant cedar, now a nurse log
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There is nothing quite like looking into the canopy of an ancient forest giant
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Impossible to see, but easy to hear its inhabitants, the eagle’s nest is definitely up there…
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There is something magical about the texture and appearance of Douglas Fir bark. This tree was over 400 years old.
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Ferns and other greenery
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One of those golden moments BC forests give you sometimes

A world of thanks here to the WCWC, Chris Player, Will Koop, Paul George, and especially Ralf Kelman, for their work on the map that helped me to rediscover this time forgotten place.

UPDATE: I paid another visit to this Seymour Valley grove in the spring of 2017, about 13 years later. It remains largely intact, with some changes, and I made some new discoveries too. Look for that in an upcoming story!