Hills of Moss and Arbutus Forests : Nanaimo to Cassidy

Nov. 16th, 2022

After a relatively sleepless night, we rose before the sun came up and prepared for our first full day of hiking on Vancouver Island.  I think it is worth mentioning at this point that with the exception of one 25 km long stretch of trail, our western progress has largely come to an end.  On the surface, it might seem ironic that we will mostly be heading south during our final 'westward' push to the Trans Canada Trail's Point Zero on the Pacific Coast.  However, when you remember that so much of our route from the Atlantic to the Pacific has been either north or south that we've walked more than twice as far as necessary to get this far, it merely seems fitting that our western goal lay to the south. These were the thoughts that were circling in our heads as we made coffee in our room and got ready to set off, making a quick stop for breakfast at a nearby Tim Horton's along the way.

To reach the trail we had to backtrack a little through Muffeo Sutton Park, where we were delighted to spot two large, black domestic rabbits grazing boldly on the frost-covered grasses at the edge of the trail.  They seemed completely unconcerned with our presence, even when we stopped nearby to photograph and admire the rolling banks of fog that were shifting and swirling like a restless beast just offshore.  Although there was a light dusting of frost on the ground, and mist still obscured much of the offshore islands, the sun was already making a concerted effort to burn off the moisture and bring warmth to the day.

 

At the edge of Muffeo Sutton Park we turned inland, following a very well-marked trail through a quiet Nanaimo neighbourhood.  At one point we climbed a steep embankment and crossed over a set of railway tracks.  The curving metal rails stretched off into the distance amidst a blanket of leaves, their rich, warm colours glowing in the morning sunshine.  The lines seemed to beckon us onward, as if adventure was sure to exist just around the next bend.  We resisted the temptation, and continued along the pathway, which skirted around Caledonia Park, a large sports complex featuring several playing fields, a running track, and a curling club.  With the sun in our eyes, we followed a road back over Millstone Creek, soon arriving at the entrance to Bowen Park.

Bowen Park is a 36 hectare green space that is located along the Millstone River.  The land was donated to the City of Nanaimo in 1918 by the Western Fuel Company, and although the park does feature an outdoor swimming pool, sports fields, tennis courts, two playgrounds, an amphitheatre, two covered picnic shelters, and much more, most of it has been left as undeveloped forest.  A series of interpretive trails have been created along the river, which feature a scenic waterfall, a fish ladder, a duck pond, and a rhododendron grove with over 350 species of rhododendrons.

We circled the small duck pond, taking a few moments to enjoy the busy and contented quacking of a flock of Mallards who were paddling in the shallow depths.  The ducks weren't the only birds we glimpsed in this area - beautiful wooden carvings of owls peered out at us from several of the enormous tree trunks, doing their best to blend in and remain hidden.  As we walked along we felt tiny, dwarfed by trees that were easily 60 m tall.

As we followed the winding earth footpath back towards the main trail, we spotted a small group of totem poles lying among the tall ferns and shrubs.  Their once proud and colourful forms were slowly being absorbed back into the forest from which they came.  They seemed so much more at home in this natural setting, nestled among the vines and moss, than they ever do preserved in museums.

After our trek through the lovely piece of wilderness in Bowen Park we emerged into a neighbourhood once again, and followed a paved sidewalk up hill.  Very soon we arrived at the Buttertubs Marsh Park.  This delightfully named bird and wildlife sanctuary had a central pond around which looped a 2 km crushed stone dust trail, which had several towers and viewing platforms along its length.  The delightfully named green space supports a variety of habitats, including wetland, which is relatively rare in British Columbia (only 7% of the provincial landmass).  Over 180 species of birds have been reported in the park on eBird, including several rare species.  If we'd had more time to explore this region, there are several other birding hotspots in the area including Diver Lake, Pipers Lagoon, and the Morrell Wildlife Sanctuary that we'd have loved to visit.

As we followed the treed and shrubby trail around the edge of the pond, we spotted a large group of American Coots out on the water, which were joined by several Wood Ducks and a Pied-billed Grebe.  More than one Spotted Towhee was foraging on the bright orange berries along the trail, while a Song Sparrow dug around in the leaf litter below and a Bewick's Wren skulked amidst the brush.  We weren't the only ones out enjoying the beautiful mountain scenery and plentiful bird life - locals from the nearby condo complex were also out sitting on the benches and walking their dogs, and many gave us a friendly smile or a nod in passing.

After this pleasant diversion, we again found ourselves navigating the quiet streets of Nanaimo as we skirted around the edge of the Vancouver Island University campus.  Soon we came to Colliery Dam Park, the next small green space on our route.  The wide, level path followed the edge of a small waterway before crossing one of the two concrete dams.  Although still covered with frost, the emerald green banks of the waterway looked like the perfect spot for a picnic in summer, and apparently the park is quite popular as a swimming spot during the warmer months as well.  In addition, the dams provide one of the few remaining links with Nanaimo's industrial past.  They were built in 1910-11 by the Western Fuel Company, to supply water for the coal washing, miners, mules, and horses in the nearby coal mines.

From the Colliery Dam we followed the trail into a well-used and truly beautiful stretch of trees.  Western red cedars, which can grow up 60 m tall, and Douglas firs, which are Canada's tallest tree and can reach heights of 80 m and diameters of 2 m, were well represented in the forest stand.  Sunlight filtered through the canopy high above our heads, and caused the tall, straight, tree trunks that rose like columns around us to throw long, linear shadows across the trail. The long delicate arms of the ferns that covered the forest floor glowed green and golden in the morning light.  A thick layer of moss carpeted the forest floor, deadening sounds and making us feel like we'd entered a fantasy world.

The wide, crushed stone dust trail began to climb as we wound through the magical forest, and other trail users gradually became less frequent.  Eventually we came out at a parking lot and trail head, where a pair of mountain bikers was loading their mud splattered cycles onto their cars.  A large, brand new sign indicated that we were beginning the Extension Ridge Trail, which described itself as a 'roughly developed backwoods route.'  As we had anticipated, the map indicated that the suspension bridge over the Nanaimo River was still missing, meaning that when we reached the community of Extension, around 10 km further south, we would have to take the alternate biking route for the Trans Canada Trail, which went all the way back down to the Trans Canada Highway to cross the river.

We set off down the power corridor, climbing very steeply as we went.  Although we left the parking lot on the main trail, we soon became lost in a network of crisscrossing dirt footpaths, mountain bike trails, and ATV tracks.  As so often happens along hydro corridors, locals devise their own shortcuts through the open grassy hills to specific points of interest for them.  So, as we climbed up a circuitous route on the frozen dirt track, our boots crunching through the frozen crusts of puddles and our legs brushing frost coated brambles, we constantly had to check to make sure we were on the right track.  Once we reached the trees at the top of the ridge however, we were in for a real treat!

Locals refer to this trail as the 'Abyss Trail,' in reference to a series of deep earthquake fissures that have split the rocks near the top.  The cracks are about 50 cm wide in many places, and seem to vary in depth quite a bit.  Apparently the rift marks the boundary between the North American tectonic plate and the Juan de Fuca plate, which is sub-ducting under the North American plate.  When we reached 'the abyss' we had finally left the hydro corridor behind, and were back in the trees, following a narrow, earth footpath.  A smooth expanse of mossy rock stretched out before us, and there it was - a jagged crack splitting the earth into, its edges not quite level on either side of the crack.  Although the fissure wasn't very wide, it felt quite strange to stand with one foot on each side and look down - as if at any moment the crack might widen to swallow me up.

Although we were still climbing quite steeply, and would continue to do so for a while, we had reached the top of the ridge, and found ourselves in a grove of tall, old, arbutus trees.  The arbutus is Canada's only broad-leafed evergreen tree species, and it doesn't resemble any other kind of tree I've seen here.  They can grow up to 30 m tall, and have wavy, contorted, muscular looking trunks that are completely smooth. Their bark is a thin, paper-like layer that is a bright coppery red and flakes off like paint, leaving behind a light green undercoat.  The colourful trunks contrast beautifully with their thick, waxy, dark green leaves, giving them an elegant and exotic look. Arbutus can only be found in a limited range along the west coast of North America and on the southeastern part of Vancouver Island.

As we continued along the top of the ridge, following the rocky footpath up and down steep terrain, the red arbutus trunks around us fairly glowed in the sunlight, complimented by tufts of emerald green moss.  The light, open, airy feel the forest had was entirely different from the coastal rainforest we'd trekked through earlier.  Not only was it incredibly beautiful, but it also provided glimpses of the view down below us on both sides of the ridge, which was also pretty incredible.  To the west, the treed slope descended into a bank of thick, grey fog which appeared to extend out over the Salish Sea all the way to the mainland.  We could see the snow capped peaks of the Coastal Mountains sticking up like islands floating in a sea of fog.  As we realized we were looking towards the Sunshine Coast, we thought we might be seeing Mount Garibaldi in the distance.

At one point we took a break at a well-placed bench with a view extending out over the forested valley that lay east of the ridge.  Somewhere down in the sun soaked valley we could hear the persistent whine of a chainsaw, punctuated by the barking of a dog.  A hydro corridor cut a line through the valley, but otherwise few signs of civilization were evident in the sun soaked valley below.  It was a peaceful place to take a break, breathing in the unique and vaguely spicy smell of the arbutus, and listening to a couple Golden-crowned Kinglets in the brush beside the bench.

As we continued along the trail, passing the moss covered shape of a medicine wheel constructed from small stones, a group of retirees hiked passed us, going in the opposite direction.  They were the first and only other hikers we saw on the Extension Ridge Trail today, even though it was a gorgeous day.  As time wore on, we watched the fog bank ebb and flow, seeming to creep up the ridge and threaten to envelope us before retreating again.  Although mist always creates a magical landscape, we were thankful not to be soaked in the cool air, and navigating the footpath was likely easier with full visibility as well.

The arbutus groves weren't the only interesting aspect of the forested ridge.  We also passed through stands of Gary Oak, which is the only species of oak native to the west coast of Canada.  It has an extremely limited range in Canada as well, growing only on southeast Vancouver Island and a few of its neighbouring islands, and in two isolated groves on the lower mainland.  These oaks grow up to 20 m tall, and have thick, grooved, scaly bark and a rounded, spreading crown.  As we trekked along the trail, their thick, shiny, deeply-lobed, coppery brown leaves carpeted the ground, even while many still clung to the branches overhead.  Both arbutus and Gary oak thrive on dry, rocky, shallow soil, and are incredibly drought resistant - a trait which may serve them well as the climate continues to change.

Eventually we began descending along the ridge slightly, and some time later emerged onto a pipeline road and then a wide, wet, forested track that brought us into the community of Extension.  This defunct coal mining town was originally an extension of the mines at nearby Wellington, and housed miners until the 1930's.  Some of the original mining cabins were still visible along the roads, but they are now interspersed with newer homes.  The walking trail continued on beyond the small town for another 3 km, at which point it dead ended at the Nanaimo River, where a pedestrian bridge has yet to be constructed.  So, we had to turn eastward and walk the 8 km back down to the Trans Canada Highway on what the Backroads App called the 'Trans Canada Trail Interim Bypass.'

We followed the winding paved road back down off the ridge, which was not particularly difficult, but also not overly enjoyable.  As we left Extension we could see remnants of the old slag piles from the mines, which were now being used as race tracks by ATV groups.  The road wove among forested slopes, which were interrupted periodically be small farms, homesteads, or more modern homes.  At one point we passed an open construction pit, beyond which we enjoyed a gorgeous view out over a valley, the sunlight hills disappearing in layers into the golden mist.

About half way down the hill we passed the entrance to an active logging road, and suddenly we found ourselves walking beside a relatively constant stream of empty logging trucks heading up the hill, loaded trucks barrelling down it, and a fleet of dump trucks interspersed among them, making their own loops.  With the blind corners on the curving road the last stretch wasn't an enjoyable experience, but there was little to look forward to when the roar of the Trans Canada Highway alerted us to the fact that we were fast approaching its on ramp.  The ramp was a tightly curving, shoulder-less chute guarded on both sides with concrete barriers.  A constant stream of fast moving trucks made it an unappealing gauntlet to run, but there were no side roads.  We were tempted to simply walk the abandoned looking railway tracks beside us, but we weren't certain there would be a railway bridge over the river, or that we could get back off the tracks once we committed to them.  As we later discovered, the railway does have a bridge, and you can get off it again, but hindsight is always 20/20.

Nervous of the busy roadway below, we scuttled down the on-ramp and onto the wonderfully wide, paved shoulder of the highway, which we ended up following for close to 3 km.  When we finally crossed the Nanaimo River, its deep, turquoise waters flowed past far below us at the bottom of a steep, rocky, canyon.  When we looked up, to our surprise and amusement we realized we were looking at the bungy jumping platform and canyon zipline from WildPlay Nanaimo.

 

We visited this adventure park nearly a decade ago, and it was the first place we attempted to do a tree-top adventure course.  Participants on these courses wear a harness and use a belay system to make their way from tree to tree, climbing up ladders, walking along tightropes, inching across dangling cargo nets, zooming down zip lines, leaping from swinging log to swinging log, balancing on wobbly rope bridges, ducking through tunnels, and navigating any number of other obstacles while way up in the forest canopy.  The courses typically increase in height and difficulty as participants progress through them.  Seeing this park brought back many fond memories.

Our plan was to stop for the day at the Cassidy, which unfortunately for us was located on the far side of the highway.  Crossing six lanes of high-speed traffic, which were separated by a concrete barrier in the middle clearly wasn't a viable option.  Luckily, we found a relatively safe way to cross the traffic using dirt track that led under the highway bridge.  We scurried along, followed a utilities road up the other side, and very soon emerged safely in the parking lot for the Cassidy Rest Area on the far side of the highway. 

By this point it was nearing 4 pm, the temperature was beginning to drop, and we were both cold and ready for a break. To our delight, the Cassidy Country Kitchen, which was located at the end of the parking lot was unexpectedly open.  We stepped inside for a hot drink, and ended up splitting a large, delicious salad and a plate of warm, cheesy garlic bread for dinner.  It felt like a perfect ending to a wonderful day of walking on the island.  Only five days left to reach Point Zero in Victoria!

See you on the trail!

Remember to follow our entire adventure here : www.comewalkwithus.online