seventy-five kilometres. thirty-five to fifty-five pound back packs. seven days. a moulting elephant seal. whales playing in the sea weed. secret caves. a glorious burger. a mango. and one film camera.
when we were getting ready/training/stressing about the west coast trail, i was pretty sure we were going to come out of it bruised, battered, and more than slightly damp.
especially when the couple we went with didn't even pack a rain coat.
i'm not kidding.
i also thought we'd come out with at least one terrifying story of someone hanging off a two kilometre long ladder by a hiking pole and said person was saved only by a gust of wind, a two inch square of duct tape, and a conveniently placed bramble.
or something like that.
instead, we came out of it relatively whole (most of the "bruises" washed away in the shower...), a few looney-sized blisters, a fear of heights slightly less than before, and practically bone dry. it was a west coast trail miracle. absolutely no rain.
and here are our pictures. you can see more here. there are a lot. but i carried that camera seventy-five kilometres. so what.
ps. because of the epicness of our trip, we listened to this song, and this song before heading out. so deep. so epic.