We didn’t really know what we had signed up for.
Our friends Jason and Charity, the ultimate outdoor couple, wanted us to come along for their Victoria Day outing. A hike to the top of Mount Benson? Sure, why not? That sounds like fun.
I thought about it, placed in my mind the picture of the green mountain that serves as Nanaimo’s backdrop (Mt Benson is the one in the center of this blog's header). It looks tall but if there are trails…
“And what about our kids?” I asked Jason.
“Bring them. There are some parts where you have to use a rope,” he said, “but we can find a way around them.”
I guess that in part because I feel obligated now to post something adventurous to this blog, and in part because this outdoor stuff is getting addictive, I said yes.
H
ere we are at the beginning of our hike at Westwood Lake, fresh like baby powder…
The weather forecast called for a rainy day, but we set out optimistic anyway, under a gray sky.
You know how it goes, the backpacks full of water and snacks, the heart full of hope, and the legs full of energy.
We walked a few hundred meters on the lake trail and then veered out through a logging road, eating apples, thankful for the lack of rain, a bunch of happy campers. As we departed from the trail, we got immersed into a deep forest of Douglas firs, oh the nature in Vancouver Island ever so beautiful.
We passed over a brook and made a quick stop for a picture. Then the road began to ascend until the trail met with the first steep slope of the climb--and the first rope.
Jason, ever so honest, quickly noted that this was an easy one. Worst would come. Well, we made it and had no need to worry about our little ones. The fact is, my youngest son was usually the first to climb the slopes and had to wait for the rest of us...
An hour or so into the mountain I felt like asking my wife to carry the backpack, but we macho gentlemen don't do that, right? So I kept it, even though my sedentary legs were starting to tingle. Ignore the whining muscles and keep going, I said to myself, and so I did...
And I mean, my kids were doing great, I couldn't complain. We were warming up for the hours of climbing ahead, for the breathtaking views that awaited above. So let me show you more...
The hardest rope.
The logging road.
Nanaimo from above.
1 km from the top, a bit of snow surviving its way through the spring.
The last part of my ascent felt glorious; the moment of truth that would be written in history (or at least in my blog) stating that I did it, that I climbed to the top of Mt. Benson, even if it took me 6 hours and one agonizing calf. I felt like Rocky Balboa!
The magnificent view of the coast and of the city of Nanaimo was only rivaled by a view I had never seen before, the other side of the mountain: a range of undeveloped mountains with pine trees as numerous as Abraham's descendants, the beautiful monotonous green of the pine trees only smothered by brown clearings where the loggers made their circles. We felt so great, resting at the top...
But it all soon vanished.
Clouds and more clouds. Rain clouds surrounded us as we boggled the tea and the crackers we had managed to improvise from our bags.
Whoever said the way down was the easier one was so wrong, so wrong. The boys were exhausted. The energetic toddler who climbed up happy wanted to be held all the way down. Now the pain in my feet followed the strained legs in a tortuous parade that could end up in a nasty cramp at any given moment. Every single pebble in the road felt like a sting in my soles and I could only try to distract myself with friendly conversation, while gravity pulled me down the slopes.
But we made it. I've been sore for some days afterwards, but it was worth it. The sense of accomplishment is there. And so are the photos and the videos and this long post, that may be tiring you as much as the hike tired me, so I'll just go to sleep...
Thanks for reading!
