After a 12-mile hike through Tetrahedron Provincial Park, we'd planned only a single hike on the following day. That, and I'd also found a couple of extensive looking trail systems on Gaia, and figured that we could end up wasting away much of the day searching for overlooks as we wandered our way through the forest.
It was 9:30am as we wound our way through the trees toward Mt. Richardson Provincial Park.
Unsurprisingly in a region where logging is king, there were roads on the ground that were not on our maps. Newly graded and covered with bright 3-inch stone - to support the weight of massive trucks - we abandoned our GPS track as a promising fork climbed steeply up the hillside to our right. It continued - with grades that seemed insane for anything longer and heavier than a pickup - right to the top of the ridge, abruptly stopping in a tall tree tunnel. With no views from our lowly position, it was time to break out the flying camera, in an attempt to really rub in how much we were missing!
Initially, I was pointed toward the mouth of the Salmon Inlet. It was nice, but we didn't feel too bad.
Then, I flipped the drone around nearly 180 degrees to look up the inlet, successfully demoralizing ourselves with the view.
Not wanting to spend our day looking at screens, I landed the drone after only a few percent of the lithium-ion hover juice had been drained and we plowed our way back down the mountain towards a trail that we'd heard was, "more technical, but worth driving before we lose it to logging."
Not sure if the smiley should be reassuring or just a little bit worrying.
Bible Camp trail once allowed access to land acquired from the Canadian Government - via a crown lease in 1963 - by the Glad Tidings Church. Members of the church built several A-frame type cabins, a rustic - but very attractive - dining hall overlooking the water, a very large A-frame chapel, a gym for activities like Basketball, and several staff quarters. Positioned immediately on the beach, it was an idealistic location that allowed the church - from 1964 to the mid-1990's - to host children of the congregation - brought in by boat - for summer camp.
Today, much of the land has been returned to the people of the First Nations. All of the buildings have been removed, only a few concrete foundations and rusting remnants remaining along the shore.
What's left of the road is accessible only by reasonably built high-clearance 4WD, and it is not advisable to go alone.
Almost immediately, it was clear that this wasn't a high traffic area.
Off to a good start.
Luckily, trees over the road were of no concern to us. Not just because this one was easily small enough for the pull saw, but because we'd learned from our previous foray into Canada just a few weeks earlier, that any trip to the Pacific Northwest - or Pacific Southwest in the case of our neighbors to the north - called for the inclusion of the chainsaw.
Of more concern was the "bridge" that we encountered another couple hundred feet down the road. Not only was "bridge" a generous description for the logs laid above a rushing creek, but I also wasn't sure if we'd be able to climb back out the steep, loose, wet chute that dropped us down to the contraption without a winch.
If nothing else, this ditch was a mental gatekeeper for what was to come.
While it turned out that no winch was necessary on our way out, we definitely got the message that this trail meant business as we approached - and cleared a series of obstacles over the next couple of miles.
Tougher than it looked with wet tires and 16" tall steps on either side of the chute.
Ultimately - after working our way 2.5 miles down the road and not knowing what was in store for the remainder of the descent - we decided the smart move was to tuck tail and work our way back to the trailhead, leaving the remainder for another day, with the company of at least one other truck.
Road or riverbed? Why not both?
Note: it turns out that we made it within a few hundred feet of the legal end of the road. There, a large log has been placed across the trail, and from that point onward, the land - once a burial site - has been returned to the First Nations and is off limits to the public. For more information, see this post.
While 4x4 tracks have been made around the blockages, the area in blue should not be driven.
Knowing what to expect, the climb out was significantly easier - or at least, less worrisome - than the drive in and before we knew it, we'd navigated the ditch with no need for a winch.
Update 2024-10-25: Bible Camp Trail is No Longer Accessible
As of sometime in October, logging has begun along the Bible Camp Trail, rendering it impassable and likely lost - at least in its previous incarnation - forever.
The exact logging situation will change over time, but as of now, this is how it stands:
Logging activity has commenced on the trail and the bottom half is now not passable. Trees are down and machines are working around the clock.
Red areas denote active logging from iMapBC.
Soon we were back at the smiley-face sign, this time following the fork we gleefully ignored a couple hours earlier. We were headed to Richardson Lake and ultimately the summit of Mt. Richardson where we'd been promised a great overlook of Sechelt towards Vancouver Island.
First though, it was time for lunch.
Backing up to a splendid view and opening up the tent to dry the previous evening's dew, we munched our turkey sandwiches and crunched our chips alongside Richardson Lake.
A most glorious green when viewed from above.
We'd cut the first tracks - at least since the previous rain a little more than a week before our arrival - into Richardson Lake, but by the time we swallowed our last bite of sandwich, three more trucks had shown up, unloading their humans to enjoy the early afternoon sun. For us, that was a good excuse to be on our way, and after availing ourselves of the shelterless outhouse - how does that even work in the winter?!? - we began the short-but-steep trek to the summit.
Along the lake.
Back into the woods.
Shines a new light on the phrase, "the forest is reclaiming the trail."
As with every single hike on this trip, spring and summer wildflowers had come and gone and there were scant few flowers to admire alongside the trail. Mushrooms on the other hand were plentiful - both in species and quantity - and we couldn't help but wonder if any of them were edible.
Short and fat.
Tall and skinny.
Also along the trail were huckleberries. For anyone unfamiliar, these are the wild equivalent of the blueberries you find in the local grocery store, though generally a bit smaller and with the most wonderfully tart-yet-sweet flavor. Any time they are found, they should be enjoyed in as large quantities as possible, usually as a hand-to-mouth operation when picking.
Bears love them too, but if you find them first, assure the bear they are yours.
As @mrs.turbodb assured me that these were in fact huckleberries, I mumbled aloud that, "and now we know the side effects of the 'tall and skinny' mushrooms. May cause blue-red color blindness." (Red Huckleberry, Vaccinium parvifolium)
After almost exactly an hour, we reached the top. There, decades ago, views must have stretched for nearly 100 miles in every direction. But, with the passage of time and the growing of trees, today the views were filtered at best and better described as "what view?" Still, with the right adjustments and angles, we were able to enjoy the waterways that surrounded us.
Guess we won't be taking this as a souvenir.
"Imprisonment for removal - 7 years."
To our southwest, Sechelt Inlet and Porpoise Bay, then the Strait of Georgia and Vancouver Island in the distance.
Looking northwest, toward the mouth of Sechelt Inlet.
A closer look.
And with that - though it was still early in the afternoon - it was time to drop back down to sea level and find somewhere to call home for the night. We hoped - given that we were literally surrounded by water - that some sort of wave action - if not the sound of the waves themselves - would be visible from camp, so we set about making that happen.
The search continues.
Ultimately - after a bit of poking around and following a series of roads that we'd mapped-but-not-verified prior to our departure, we hit the jackpot. Perched only 15 feet above the Sechelt Inlet, we were thrilled to be in camp early, and after getting the truck positioned just so, we made the most of our evening by doing exactly what anyone should do when they find themselves in a place like this - a whole lot of nothing but staring out over the water.
The perfect spot?
Definitely a nice view.
Can't get much closer to the water than this.
Eventually, as the sun set to our west and lights came on across the bay, it was time for dinner and our usual pre-bedtime activities. Tonight, an extra activity - the placing of glue traps in strategic areas of the cab - capped the evening. We'd had an unwelcome visitor - the third in our last four nights on the trail - the previous night, and while we had no idea how so many were getting in, it was our hope that any mice who found their way in (while we slept) would also find themselves permanently detained.
The Following Morning...
Content to get a bit more sleep than we had the two nights prior, and with the Tacoma positioned such that the tent would - hopefully - dry off quickly as the sun rose in the east, I decided to set my alarm for a few minutes after sunrise.
My internal clock was having none of that, and 15 minutes before the fiery ball was set to crest the horizon, I happened to wake up and glance out the window. I knew immediately that there would be no going back to bed.
Wow.
Even @mrs.turbodb awoke for a few minutes to admire the glow that seemed to envelope everything around us, though she was able to coax herself back under the covers for another 20 minutes of warmth and reading while I poorly piloted the hovering selfie cam around camp, to investigate some buoys we'd noticed the night before.
We'd thought the buoys might have been markers for crab pots, but on closer inspection, they were much more interesting! That's a ship down there. And it's leaking!
Update 2024-10-23
A reader - Joel - found the following information and shared it in the comments below. I love getting additional information like this, or hearing from folks about aspects of these stories that they enjoy, so please fee; free to reach out any time!
At 7:04 p.m. on November 4, 2023, the Sunshine Coast RCMP was notified of a distress call from the R.J. Breadner in Sechelt Inlet near Carlson Creek, where there was an emergency position-indicating radio beacon (EPIRB) activation. The Joint Rescue Coordination Centre (JRCC) was requesting police assistance because the Canadian Coast Guard vessel tasked with responding needed more time to get to the location of the incident.
When the Coast Guard vessel CCGS Cape Caution (from the Powell River lifeboat station) arrived, they searched the area and discovered a sunken decommissioned ferry. No one was on board, and the search concluded, Fisheries and Oceans Canada (DF) communications told Coast Reporter. They recovered the activated SOS beacon onboard a dingy on the surface, Const. Karen Whitby told Coast Reporter.
The following day, after noticing the leak, a local contractor was hired by the Canadian Coast Guard to set up a containment boom around the sunken vessel to contain any more pollution. It was considered stable.
The 62-year-old former BC Ferries vessel R.J. Breadner sank in Sechelt Inlet on Nov. 4, 2023.
With the drone back in camp and clouds streaming in from the north, I'd just finished snapping a photo of the truck looking out over the inlet when I decided it wouldn't be the worst idea in the world to check the weather. The last time we had - a day or so earlier - there hadn't been any rain in the forecast, but since weather guessers never really know what's going to happen...
Even with the high clouds building a bit, it was still a wonderfully calm morning.
Imagine my surprise when I opened the app to find a message that read: "Rain starting in 4 minutes."
"Out of bed," I called down to my copilot, "we gotta get this thing put away!" Not that the tent was totally dry at this point - there was still some condensation from the previous night, but it was a lot drier than it would be, 5 minutes later!
Made it! 8 minutes after the previous photo, it was coming down hard.
We'd really dodged a bullet with the tent, but it still wasn't clear what our next steps should be. The rain wasn't supposed to last too long - a couple hours at most - but with places to be and things to see, we worried that clouds and fog would put a damper on our day.
Still, knowing there was nothing we could really do about it, we decided to do the only thing we could - we carried on!
The Whole Story
More beautiful scenes from Canada. Thanks for sharing.
According to the Coast Reporter - The 62-year-old former BC Ferries vessel R.J. Breadner sank in Sechelt Inlet on Nov. 4, 2023. The following day, after noticing the leak, a local contractor was hired by the Canadian Coast Guard to set up a containment boom around the sunken vessel to contain any more pollution. It was considered stable. I guess a year later it's still there pending further action.
Great trip report so far. You guys are some serious hikers!! BC has some beautiful places to visit. Thanks for sharing the photos!
Awesome, thanks Joe! I've added this bit to the story so others can find it more easily (without having to come down to the comments)! 👍
The name "Sunshine Coast" peaked my curiosity, as this is obviously not the sunshine coast. Here's the true story from someone who lived in Pender Harbour for 65 years. It's an interesting read.
The True Story of How B.C.’s Rainy “Sunshine Coast” Got Its Name
https://montecristomagazine.com/community/true-story-how-bc-rainy-sunshine-coast-got-name
You can delete this post, it's just something I thought you might be interested in reading.
Joe
What a fantastic story Joe, it's always interesting how places get their names and I'm most definitely not deleting that! 😁 Thanks so much for posting it! Hope you've enjoyed the rest of the trip (so far) as well:
Mushroom Mania on the Sunshine Coast