Some Days Stay With You

Twenty-six miles down an excellent gravel road north of Masset lies the environmentally protected wilderness of North Graham Island—about as far north as you can travel without bumping into Japan. As usual, we were the only vehicle on the road, and our speed slowed to a crawl as we entered the most striking rainforest we have ever seen. Words cannot begin to describe its density, its lushness, or the wild extravagance of nature as it unfolded in layer upon layer, each generation growing, decaying, and giving life to the one that follows. The moss on the trees was beyond description. It hung so heavily from the branches that it formed fanciful shapes and figures high overhead. Monkey moss. Halloween trees wearing ballgowns. Upside-down sloths. Creatures with furry tails. More than once I was certain I had spotted a bear in a tree, only to realize it was a massive cloak of moss creeping along the branches and draping itself into perfect paws. It was a Hobbit forest, full of magic and imagination, and I know I will never forget it. Not far beyond, we found the trailhead to Tow Hill and the Blow Hole. The trail, although a bit daunting with hundreds of stairs to reach the summit, was a meticulous example of forest management. Elevated boardwalks carried us over the sensitive bog areas, protecting the fragile ecosystem while still allowing us to experience it up close. With my quadriceps reminding me at every stair that my seventy-first birthday was only days away, I paused often to breathe the clear ocean air, refill my lungs, and carry on. The view from the summit was worth every step. We took a long pause to bank it in memory. The day had already become one I knew I would remember, and the descent was surprisingly easy. Agate Beach offered a different kind of wonder. The waves rolled ashore with a gentle rush, but it was their retreat that captured my heart. As each wave slipped back into the Pacific, thousands of smooth pebbles chattered together, tumbling over one another before being drawn once again into the sea. The sound was rhythmic, primal, and utterly enchanting. I could have stood there for hours, listening. The beach was scattered with treasures. Honey-coloured agates, red jasper, beautifully veined stones, weathered shells—and, hidden among them, my favourites of all: wish rocks. I have always loved wish rocks. The best ones wear a single white band that circles them completely, as if the sea itself had tied a ribbon around them. There were so many wish rocks hidden among the agates and the red jasper that I had to pause frequently and lock a special wish in my heart for every one of my loved ones. I hold each rock tightly, think of someone I love or a hope I cannot carry alone, then turn my back to the Pacific and throw it over my left shoulder. Whether the wish is granted seems almost beside the point. The real gift is learning to release it.

Slow Exploring to the End of the Road

It was a grand day of slow exploring. The farther north we drove, the brighter the sunshine became - unexpected and most welcome. Near day’s end, we arrived at the beginning: Mile Zero of Highway 16, at the northern tip of Graham Island in Masset. We celebrated the moment with a well-earned beer at Daddy Cool’s Public House pub. Our drive revealed one treasure after another - Balance Rock, beautiful totem poles, windswept beaches, whale skeletons, and countless evocative viewpoints. There was barely any traffic, the road was in excellent condition, and it was an absolute pleasure to drive. One of the day’s highlights was spending nearly 20 minutes quietly watching a large black bear enjoying a meal of fresh swamp grass. Completely unhurried and blissfully unaware of us (safely tucked inside the car, I might add), he had the glossiest coat I have ever seen. It must be that seafood diet. And speaking of seafood, we wrapped up the day at the fish processing plant in Skidegate, where we enjoyed delicious, freshly caught cod and chips. It was one of those days that asks for nothing more than your time and attention, rewarding both with unforgettable moments around every bend. We ended the day feeling grateful - for the sunshine, the scenery, the wildlife, and the simple joy of discovering a remarkable corner of the world at an unhurried pace.

Haida Gwaii - Island of the People

Haida Gwaii greeted me with soft mist and the vibrant lushness of an ancient rainforest. It is now early morning, and the rain is tap dancing on the roof. No matter. There are no clocks or calendars for the next few days. The ferry trip to get here was an invitation to simply surrender to those things beyond one’s control. There was a long delay before boarding, caused by the need to ensure there was enough food - specifically French fries - to feed the straggly crowd. Two hours of waiting became three as we watched the brave drivers perilously reverse down an impossibly long and angled ramp onto the Northern Explorer. This included massive 18-wheel transport trucks, along with an assortment of recreational trailers and boats. The procedure was glacially slow as the crew methodically guided, encouraged, and then cheered on each driver until every vehicle was finally nestled into place. The crossing itself was calm, despite the daunting reputation of the wild Hecate Strait and the abundance of barf bags placed everywhere. Several hours and one nap later, the unloading followed with the same mystifying sense of (dis)order. I sat in the car, played Solitaire, and ate liquorice until it was finally our turn to roll ashore. Our Airbnb hosts texted as we drove onto the island. Would we possibly like to join them for some freshly caught Dungeness crab? Would we ever. After quickly unpacking and settling into our comfortable little cottage, we joined them on their rustic patio and swapped tales while noisily cracking our way through at least half a dozen large, sweet, perfectly cooked crabs, washed down by a few glasses of Prosecco. I'd say that's a darned fine welcome.