The Sunshine Coast Stepping Stone
It started in 2006, the decision to leave Edmonton for the Sunshine Coast. Here is my last entry before I left.
I stopped off in Golden, BC, for a family reunion first. That was in August. After several days I was off to Vancouver, then a connecting bus to Sechelt.
I was a little freaked. Excited, but a bit scared. I’d never done anything close to this—sure, I’d ended up in a strange city before and through some exaggeration ended up in the system there, though I had never done this and successfully got to any wilderness area.
Before I started thinking about it too much I went in the bus depot to get them to call me a cab. Where was I going? Vaguely: north.
By the time the cab showed up I had found a spot on the map, up towards Mt. Richardson, north of Tuwanek; I told the cabby to let me off near a stream before the town (village) of Tuwanek. I wanted to hike there.
Trouble was I had a pack on plus two other huge bags, with no clue how I was going to drag all this crap up a mountain. I figured I’d find a spot by the creek to camp and think it over.
So I got out of the cab and began dragging my gear into the rainforest.
Over the next three days it hit me (seeing people going by on hikes with their dogs—coming from the nearby village of Tuwanek) that I was not in true wilderness. And I was not physically strong enough for what I was doing.
I stashed two bags further up a trail, near the creek, got what I thought I needed all stuffed into one pack (a cheap Walmart pack that was already starting to fall apart), and decided to take to road (from studying my map) all the way up into the mountains and down the other side to a coastal area referred to as “The Old Summer Camp.”
Over the next few days, after starting up the mountain and finding a grow-op (and plucking a good ounce of August-sunned buds before getting the hell out of there) and making it to the Old Summer Camp in 10-straight hours of hiking), hanging out on the shore, seeing all the boats in the area, all the people, I got discouraged.
I finally left and went cross-country for a couple of days, made it to Nine Mile Park, then went along the shore, the rocky shore, until I fucked up my ankle. Just before dusk I managed to flag-down a boat with a signal fire. They gave me a ride back to town, took me to the hospital (the doctor said it was just a bad bruise and a sprain), then let me stay in their basement overnight.
The next morning they drove me to the Upper Deck, gave me twenty bucks (for one night there). I talked to the owner (Tanya) and convinced her to let me stay there until I got some money, about week away (this was late August), and pay her then.
And here is a more detailed version of events from August, 2007, to December, 2007.
There are links in that entry to the week or so I tried living in the outdoors in December…