Wells Gray

This post is dedicated to my mom, whose adventurous heart allowed her to agree to come with me for a seven-day, 50-mile, hut-to-hut hike in Wells Gray Provincial Park in British Colombia. Living way outside her comfort zone, she learned to take a bucket bath, went without a hairdryer for a week, chugged up grueling inclines, endured very rainy weather and even some hail, and did it all with good cheer. What a woman.

Happily, I think she'd agree that it was an amazing experience. The landscape was hands-down incredible, with the end of wildflower season singing its song across expansive meadow systems ringed by mountains. 

There wasn't a whole lot of wildlife around, perhaps in part because we had such rainy weather, but also because animals could hear our group of seven stomping in their direction from a mile away. We did see more lichen than you could shake a rock at, though.

Plus squirrels, marmot, spruce grouse, ptarmigans, voles, and owl, and wolf scat. But only the scat. Plus those views, on the couple of days when the sky was clear and the day magnificent.

After each day of hiking, we got cozy in the three different "chalets" that we stayed in throughout the week. The term chalet was a tad euphemistic, but it was really nice to have a warm, dry place to relax and read and play cards and eat way too much at the end of each day's hike.

One thing that likes rain: mushrooms. I've never seen so many mushrooms, and such a variety of them, in my life. That's moss behind these ones; they were maybe a couple of centimeters tall.

One of our fellow hikers liked to fix all of his problems, including my mom's split toenail, with duct tape. By the end of the trip, she was nonchalantly doing a crossword puzzle while he was taping her up in the morning, but the first operation was a group event.

Despite the rain, we summited Table Mountain and put our rocks on the cairn at the top.

And once in awhile, the clouds would part long enough to allow the strange sensation of sunshine on our skin and a misted view.

When we couldn't see the big picture, we all had fun concentrating on the little one.

Oh, and seeking shelter in circles of trees to quick eat something to give us the energy for the next climb.

On the second-to-last-day, we reached the cull of Battle Mountain before a thunderstorm (and the afore-mentioned hail) forced us to turn back before reaching the summit. But the view sure wasn't shabby, even from the cull.

And our cabin at that point was nestled in one of the most expansive meadow systems in the world, all of which turned golden at sunset.

It felt so strange to emerge from the woods, climb into a vehicle that moved while our legs stayed motionless, and see people other than those in our group for the first time in a week. Before calling it a trip, we stopped at spectacular Helmcken Falls.

Then we pointed the car to the even more disorienting bright lights and big city of Vancouver, which my Dad had flown into to await us and the next leg of the adventure!