Our second day on the Juan de Fuca trail is an ode to my naivete. You see, I knew it would be strenuous, I knew it would be muddy, I knew there would be logs and roots to avoid but I foolishly thought it would be those things at different times at different spots along the trail. The reality is that it is all those things at one time at any given time on the trail. I grossly overestimated my own body.
Our plan for day 2 had been to pack up and hike the 5kms to Little Kuitshe campground. We woke to rain and clouds. I had almost no sleep the night before and F was down to his last pair of dry socks. After a cup of hot chocolate and some granola, we did as planned and packed up. We trekked along the beach back to West Sombrio where we stopped for snacks. Here we encountered our first suspension bridge (and as it would turn out, our only suspension bridge). I think everyone enjoyed crossing the bridge except me.
The mud began on the other side of the bridge. It was slippery but doable. We passed several mushrooms and banana slugs (F loves to look out for slugs. He would guard them to make sure they were not stepped on during our hike.). Then it was back on to the beach. I think this was the beginning of my downfall. I have chronic joint issues and inflammation in the tendons of my heels. I wore good supportive boots and used a hiking pole to help steady myself. However it was still raining and the rocks were becoming slick. I frequently slipped and wobbled causing those tendons to ache. We reached a spot where the tide was too high to pass. We stopped for lunch in the hopes we could pass soon.
After an hour and some crab hunting, the tide was still too high so up and over we went. It was slippery, steep and muddy. The steps of roots and logs to help up the slippery hill were meant for someone taller than me. I really struggled to clamor over them. Surprisingly the children seemed to do better with some help from the adults. I could feel the ache in my ankle worsen. Descending down the other side to the beach again did not help.
We stopped at the marker for 3kms to Little Kuitshe for water and rest. I was feeling this crushing sense of defeat. I know I am fat and I have joint issues but it has never stopped me from hiking before. I just go slowly and take breaks as needed but I carry on. I was feeling concerned that I may end up pushing my ankle to the point of injury. Little Kuitshe campground is only accessible by foot so I would have to walk out if I walked in. I was determined to carry on. I tried to push the pain to the back of my mind and get on with it. Not more than five minutes into hiking again and the pain turned to weakness. It was becoming harder and harder to bear weight on that ankle. I couldn't keep up with my kids and I was feeling defeated. That was the breaking point. We turned back.
I limped back along the beach and over the bridge to our car. I was crushed. I didn't even complete one section of the Juan de Fuca trail. I kept thinking "what if I had taped my ankle?" and "what if we started at the other end of the trail?". I tortured myself the whole night after we returned. I decided to use my defeat as motivation to strengthen that heel and go back. I see my physiotherapist this week and I'll ask her to help me come up with a plan. Juan de Fuca; this isn't over.
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