Arrowsmith, not Aerosmith and for sure not Erosmyth

This morning we headed up island in the direction of Port Alberni, with the intent of hiking up toward the top of Arrowsmith (5962 feet summit). Fog wisped across the road here and there. The various trailhead directions we had gave detailed instructions, all of which started with something like "take the Mount Arrowsmith exit off Highway 4". It turns out that exit has no sign and is a logging road, 'with the gate open' as we learned from a local. Once we found the exit, the trailhead directions were just fine and we parked at about 780 meters. The 'Judges' trail up Arrowsmith is very well marked, but is steep - we were frequently clambering hand over foot. We were concerned that coming back down would be super tricky i.e. steep, loose rock, loose soil, human skulls and femurs, the whole works. Suitably invigorated at 1230 meters, we had lunch and headed back down.

We then went to Port Alberni, which is at the end of an inlet from the west coast of Vancouver Island (rather like Norway's Trondheim fjord), but actually much nearer the east coast (but inaccesible from the east by water). It remains a lumbering and fishing town, but is also luring tourists by emphasizing all the natural wonders and NOT mentioning the stinky pulp mill. We grabbed coffee, some dreadful baked goods, and some excellent shrimp and smoked salmon.

On the way home we stopped at the Coombs Country Store. It has quite the selection e.g. Lakritz Batzen (licorice boats) from Germany and Austrian pumpkin seed oil (not like our pumkin seed oil - different pumpkins). Once home we devoured the shrimp from Port Alberni accompanied by cocktail sauce from the Coombs Country Store.

Tomorrow will be quiet. Monday after school is Fringe Flics ("Mistress of Spices") and Tuesday evening is a film in the Worldbridger series at MalU ("Urga - Close to Eden"). Thursday evening will be our 8th kayak adventure of this Fall. Last Thursday featured gale force winds in the strait so the John the Kayak Master took us to Westwood Lake to slalom through the stumps.

The morning fog never did leave the strait and, as we head to bed, is creeping uphill invading the neighborhood and shrouding the Nob Hill Acropolis. We're hearing an occasional foghorn - it is a working harbour, after all.

Richard
2006.10.21