Adventures DISPATCH
Lush northwest forest on the way up Tin Hat Mountain.
Thru-Hiking, Canadian Style When the pandemic shut down my plans to hike Europe, I found a world-class trail right on my doorstep.
At the top of British Columbia’s Tin Hat Mountain, the 360-degree panorama looks uncannily like Tolkien’s Middle Earth: Below me spread deep-cut fjords and hazy lakes, velvety mountains and densely forested foothills. A hobbit wouldn’t seem out of place. But today, nothing moves. There isn’t a single backpacker outside the handsome wooden hut perched on a rocky bluff several hundred feet below, a sought-after overnight destination in a normal year. It’s summer 2021, though, and between the fluctuating pandemic restrictions and the shift away from international travel, it has been anything but normal, which is how I find myself alone on the summit. Tin Hat marks the halfway point of the Sunshine Coast Trail (SCT), a 112-mile path that meanders from Sarah Point in Desolation Sound to Saltery Bay, its route winding through the evergreen forests blanketing the coastline north of Vancouver. Flanked by BC’s skyscraping Coast Mountains on one side and Vancouver Island on the other, it’s the longest hutto-hut trail in Canada and, fortunately for hikers, also one of its most meticulously signposted. The bulk of the SCT’s route twists through a mixture of old- and new-growth forest, climbing at intervals to rocky lookouts and breezy mountain summits. The coastal sections are short and wooded, while the abundant lakes are secluded and beautiful. The ascent of Tin Hat incorporates logging roads, soft forest paths, and a bit of minor scrambling as the trail breaks free of the trees to reach the 3,914-foot summit. Many hikers (myself included) consider this to be the best spot on the SCT, thanks largely to the view and spectacularly situated hut. Just as I begin to tire of the forest, the trees suddenly part and—boom! Enormous mountains and clear lakes seem to sprawl in every direction, with nothing but more peaks all the way to the horizon. As the sun pokes hopefully through the morning clouds, I’m tempted to savor my surroundings a little longer. But with another 22 miles to cover if I’m to reach the town of Powell River before dark, I elect to keep moving. Leaping off a rock, I break into a gentle jog as the trail descends into forest, my feet falling softly on a springy layer of fir needles marked with an occasional pile of bear scat. Normally the sight of fresh droppings would make me wary, but nothing can disturb my composure this morning. I’m just blissfully happy to be outside, drinking in the fresh alpine air.
P H O T O B Y D A N I E L L E G E R VA I S
BY BRENDAN SAINSBURY
