crater

Labour Day felt like it came far too quickly this year. Before I knew it, summer was over and here we were at the season's last hurrah.  A final long weekend.  Unfortunately, Ty and I were at odds on how to use this last slice of summer.  He wanted to stay home and work on the (bloody) house, I wanted to take off (irresponsibly) for as much time as possible.  In the end, like the boring adults we are becoming, we compromised and on Saturday morning, admist a soggy North Coast downpour, we took off for Anhluut’ukwsim Laxmihl Angwinga’asanskwhl Nisga’a  (a.k.a. Nisga’a Memorial Lava Bed Park) for the day with Ty's sis. 

The Visitor's Centre at the Park 

Ever since we first visited this part of the Nass Valley at the end of our Easter road-trip, I had been itching to go back and explore some more. Read about our first trip here.  It's almost otherwordly beauty really blew me away and when I learned you could hike to the crater of the volcano that caused the massive lava bed now visible, I was determined to visit.  

Turquoise creeks near the Visitor's Centre

To visit the crater, you must take a guided hiking tour.  Many people I've told about our trip have admitted to being turned off by this, either not wanting to pay money or not wanting to use a guide, they've decided against the trip. I can understand that feeling, but on the other hand, the area is not only sensitive ecologically, but also culturally, so ensuring people are using the area respectfully is much easier when visitors are monitored by a guide.  The guide is a local with great knowledge of the area and Nisga'a culture, so the whole hike was so augmented by his interpretation on everything from geomorphology, the effect of the eruption on the Nisga'a people, flora and fauna, to the Nisga'a treaty  In other words: fork over the (not so substantial) money and just do it.  

The hike really is not difficult, but it sure is pretty.  After a very bumpy drive in the very tiny truck of our guide, we arrived at the trailhead.  After a quick briefing and welcome in Nisga'a language by our guide Steve, we began.  Descending through some lush second and then first growth, the ground under your feet becomes a bit crunchy as you begin to tromp on thin soil over layers of volcanic ash. Steve stopped to tell us stories about wildlife in the area and the trees around us.  

Trail.  So. Green. 

Volcanic mud in the streambeds.

The creeks appeared to be running with milk due to the silty runoff.

Soon, we began to notice black volcanic mud around the creek beds, which were eerily flowing with what looked like milk (apparently they'd been dry all summer long and had just began to flow again due to the recent rains, hence the silty, milky looking runoff).  After a short time, we exited the tree canopy into the awesome lava landscape that the park is known for.  Around us, black jagged rocks were covered in all manner of lichens and moss. According to our guide Steve, the cover of lichens had grown exponentially in recent years and more and more vascular plants are taking hold as well.  

Lichen Love. 

The trail on the lava beds.

A volcanic cone.  It is so well-insulated that ice remained in the bottom despite the warm summer.

I'll admit that when we got to the crater, it was a little anticlimatic..mostly because there is no boiling lava or steam, which is totally logical when you realize this volcano erupted over 2 centuries ago.  Sitting on the lip, however, Steve shared some of his smoked salmon and explained how the eruption happened, the terrifying effect on the communities below (over 2000 people perished) and showed us the various types of rock that exploded from this very crater. Some, dubbed 'bombs', are incredibly heavy, while others are as light as styrofoam due to gases expelled and trapped during the eruption.  

The crater.

Three types (and weights) of volcanic rock.  The 'bomb' is on the right.

The trail is a there-and-back, so you retrace your steps on return.  It's another opportunity to notice the beautiful little microcosms growing out of the lava and to contemplate the severity of this event on the people and landscape. It also gave us more opportunity to chat with Steve about his community and his perspectives on current Nisga'a politics. 

It was a great way to spend a chunk of the day and I'd definitely highlight a visit to the Nass Valley to any potential north coast visitors.  On top of this beauty little hike, there are hot springs, a lovely museum, and some gorgeous drives in the area.  Steve even told us about a resident Spirit bear that can sometimes be spotted just outside the entrance to the park!!!  There is much more I'd like to see in the area, so I am sure we'll be back. If you want to visit yourself, learn more about the park here.

PS.  I fully acknowledge that my posts are too long, with too many photos.  But...SO PRETTY, ya know?

digby 3.0: toads, treasures and toddlers

The little guy striding oh so confidently in the photo above?  That's e.  He is one of my best friends.  And yes, he is two and a half.

E came to Rupert to visit early in the summer with his parents, two more of my bestest friends.  It was amazing to have them here and show them our new home. However, the tricky part about being a non-parent and having kiddos come to visit is that you aren't really sure what to do with them.  Can a toddler go kayaking?  How far can they hike?  How often do they nap?  Can you take them to the pub? (Note: probably a bad idea to take a toddler kayaking in very cold waters if you, yourself aren't a pro-star kayaker...they can't hike that far, so bring some sort of baby-backpack to carry them in...they need to nap for a few hours each day- factor that in...and apparently soon you can take kids to a pub- win).

 Luckily, e is awesome and hilarious and his parents are super easy-going, so they were up for pretty much anything. Their visit was definitely one of the highlights of the summer, and my most favorite day of our time together was the one we all spent on Digby Island.

This was Ty and I's third visit to Digby.  I love it over there.  The first time we hiked across the top (see here) and the second we explored a few of the smaller trails and the bewitching and likely haunted old Doctor's house (see here).  Knowing that the trails out of Dodge Cove were easy and toddler friendly, we decided to gamble on missing e's nap for a day and headed out there again.

Getting to Digby is pretty easy.  West Coast Launch runs a water taxi service on Saturdays that leaves Rupert at noon and will pick you up on the other side just after 5.  The ride over takes about 15 minutes and gives you a good look at the Rupert harbour.  Five hours is more than enough time to do a few of the shorter trails, hang out on the beach, have a picnic and say hello to some of the Dodge Cove locals (so friendly and sweet!).

We took e on the CBC Hill trail, which is a fantastic "hike" (not really a hike) for a little one.  In late June/early July when we were there, there were hoards of small western toads all over the first section of trail!  Toddlers LOVE toads, especially if you're willing to catch a few for them to look at up close.  Honestly, I think the highlight of e's entire trip to Rupert was when a (likely terrified) toad peed on my hand after I'd caught it.  We probably spent close to an hour doing a section of trail that should have taken no longer than 15 or 20 minutes because we were constantly stopping to watch hopping toads.

Further along, the residents of Dodge Cove have dotted the pretty trail with all sorts of treasures.  Early on, there are little middens of beach glass, moon snail shells, and a few beach-cast finds.  As you enter into the more wooded section, someone has placed all sorts of small toys (of the Happy Meal variety) in nooks and crannies among the trees and moss.

These little hidden toys are total toddler gold.  While placing small, plastic toys in such a pretty natural environment may seems sort of icky, it's actually more whimsical than anything else.  E loved it and was so excited after each "treasure" he found.  We, again, had to stop regularly so he could look and hold each one before placing it back in it's spot.

Of course, we added in some beach stops to picnic and play about.  Another toddler discovery: throwing rocks = endless amusement.  I had also bought a cheap-o bug catching kit at the Dollar Store, which proved to be a hit.  We imprisoned a few snails and flies for a short time before releasing them back into the undergrowth.

E was well worn out by the end of the day, but withstood forgoing the nap like a champ.  He even had enough energy for one last foot race with Ty on the road back to the water taxi.

metlakatla trail

The best adventures always seem to be fraught with a bit of adversity and our visit to the Metlakatla Trail was no different.  In early June, we had the joy of hosting our lovely friend Megs (or Meegs, if you hear her say it with her Kiwi accent).  To celebrate her North Coast visit, we planned to spend the weekend on the trail.  Despite the rainy forecast (we aren’t made of sugar!) and minimal prep (we had the important task of drinking beer at the Wheelhouse Brewery the night before instead of packing!), we made it out the door on time Saturday morning, ready to hop on the ferry.

Unfortunately, despite making a reservation (as instructed) earlier in the week that was confirmed by the trail office, and despite the fact that no one informed us that there was a minimum group size needed for the ferry to run, just as we were leaving the house, we were informed that the water taxi had been cancelled due to the fact that no one else had booked.  With our bags all packed and our hiking boots on, we desperately tried to find another way to get to Metlakatla.  There is nothing quite like someone telling you you CAN’T go that makes you want to go even more.

The trail office was apologetic and tried to find us another boat that might be making the journey, to no avail.  We moped.  We investigated chartering a water taxi, but agreed it was too pricey.  We got grumpy.  We hung out around the dock hoping to hitch a ride.  We regained our optimism - then lost it again.  And just when it seemed like the trip was a bust, we stopped in Cow Bay and stumbled across friends with a zodiac.  In a slightly shrill/our-weekend-is-nearly-ruined voice, I inquired if they’d be so kind to zip us over.  Metlakatla is no more than a 15 minute boat ride away and they happily agreed.

Weekend saved!

See ya later, Rupert!

The euphoria and whooping we made while zipping away from Rupert after all hope had seemed lost was a bit overkill, but there is something oh so satisfying about overcoming a hurdle.  With big smiles on our face, we hopped out onto the dock at Metlakatla, arranged a pick up for the following afternoon and made our way to the trailhead.

Metlakatla is one of seven Tsimishian village communities in the north.  It’s picturesquely situated in Venn Passage and our visit coincided with the wild rose bloom, so the town smelled amazing.  The folks we encountered along the road all smiled and wished us a good hike.  They seemed really proud of their trail.

The Metlakatla trail was built two years ago.  It’s 10km one way, hugging the coastline west of the village, facing Chatham Sound.  It’s a beautiful trail, and one that could be easily done in a day, but it does contain a small campsite near the 7.5km mark, which allows more time for exploring and enjoying the beaches.  Much of the trail is incredibly well maintained, level with crushed gravel, appropriate for many ages and abilities.  Most impressive are the suspension bridges that span several creeks and marshy areas, as well as the lookout tower that takes you up into the canopy and allows you to look out over the beach.

Suspension bridge

It was while we were up on the tower that I spotted a lone wolf loping along the beach below.  We were ecstatic!  It was a perfect vantage point to watch him, and he seemed just as aware of us (stopping several times to gaze up in our direction) as we were of him.  He trotted along the beach for a couple hundred meters before disappearing into the bush.

Bridge into the canopy

There is a wolf down there!

Another experience to check off my North Coast Bucket List.

The rest of our hike was spent spotting culturally modified trees, searching for western toads (which were plentiful), and admiring the thickets of false lily-of-the-valley.

After setting up camp, we spent some of the afternoon exploring the beach at low tide.  The weather mostly held, except for some very light showers, and we felt just too smug sitting on the beach, having a beer, knowing that we almost didn’t make it over.  After dinner, a fire, and some more exploring, we crawled into our tents feeling so cozy as the wind picked up and the forecasted rains finally appeared.

The next morning, we walked the beaches to the very end of the trail and then came back to pack up our camp.  On our hike out, we were lucky enough to spot a pair of sandhill cranes on the beach.  They seemed less stoked about our presence and made prehistoric-sounding squawks as they distanced themselves.

It was a great weekend and a combination of so many things I love about the coast.  Wildlife watching, tidepool exploring, big tree ogling, beach walking, waking up to the sound of the waves…

Despite the snafu with transportation, I’d really recommend to anyone to go do the trail.  Camp overnight if you can.  Learn more about the trail, reservations and fee here.

Haunted houses and daffodils: Digby 2.0

In early May while Ty's brother was in town, we ventured out to visit Digby Island again.  Last time we hiked across the island from the airport ferry dock.  This time we took the easy route by taking the water taxi that deposited us right in the quirky, quaint community of Dodge Cove.

It was a perfect time to visit, Dodge Cove was in bloom.  Most prevalent were the sunny faces of daffodils doting every yard and along the sides of the road.

We struck out to find the CBC Hill trail just south of the community.  It is a charming, easy, well-maintained trail.  We found frogs and unfurling fiddleheads on top of the various "treasures" like beach glass, shells, mini dinosaur figurines and a few Disney princesses tucked into various nooks and crannies by locals. This would be a perfect trail for wee ones.   You can even sneak down to the beaches to do some intertidal investigating.

Half way along the loop the highlight of the trail emerges from the undergrowth: the old Doctor's House.  What must have once been a stately and stunning home now stands in ruins, slowly crumbling back to the forest. Built in 1912, apparently it was never occupied by a Doctor, but was constructed to house one should the quarantine hospital that had been built on a small island nearby ever been put to use.  Alas, the boom of immigration that was predicted, never occurred and both structures began to crumble. Now it stands almost as a sweet and sad reminder of a yet another boom that never manifested for this part of the coast.  

It's creepy and beautiful all at once.  Looking at it from the trail, one could imagine white, ghostly figures appearing in the open, dark windows. I would never step foot in it, and not just because most of the floors have caved in, but it's the perfect stereotype of where a horror movie would occur.  As we poked around, my scaredy-cat nature ensured that I had Cody or Ty nearby.  

The deliciously eerie aura of the house is quickly replaced a little further along the trail as you climb the CBC hill (so named after the CBC transmission towers located there) and step out into a field of daffodils.  

Instead of looping back to town at the end of the trail, we continued along to Casey Cove to do a little beach combing and see the old marine station.  Yet another picturesque set of buildings slowly falling victim to the wet climate that decays just about everything.  

After making our way back from Casey Cove with only a bit of time left before the water taxi home, we made a last jaunt, this time up Buddha Hill.  The short trail leads up a soggy incline to a nice lookout west towards Chatham Sound.  A small Buddha lies hidden in the salal with a scattering of small offerings laid at its base.