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The West Coast Trail is a tough hike even for the most experienced outdoor enthusiasts. Seventy-five kilometres of steep ladder climbs, deep mud, slippery boulders and rugged terrain isn’t for everyone.
Now imagine making that multi-day trek with one trail shoe and one slightly-too-small Croc.
Six-time Olympic medallist Clara Hughes, 52, found out just how much tougher the hike can be when you lose a shoe.
This is her story, as told to CBC’s All Points West host Jason D’Souza.
All Points WestClara Hughes completes West Coast Trail thanks to some unorthodox footware
If you’ve ever done any of the challenging and beautiful multi-day treks on the island, you’ll know it never goes exactly as planned. Olympian Clara Hughes found that out for herself on the West Coast Trail.
I knew bits and pieces of the trail. I knew that it was 75 kilometres long. I’ve hiked the North Coast Trail a couple times, the Juan de Fuca Trail, and I’ve hiked literally thousands of miles all over North America, like the big long trails, Pacific Crest Trail, Continental Divide, Appalachian Trail. I’m a pretty keen hiker, with a lot of experience, but I always heard that the West Coast Trail will hand your butt to you before you finish, if you finish.
The first two days were fantastic. I was hiking with a really good friend of mine from Victoria. Her name is Jill, and her trail name is Jilly Goat because she literally ran up every single ladder on that trail and didn’t seem to have any problems. Both of us are big on movement as medicine and using things like hiking and being in nature for our mental health, and just having that deep connection in the natural space.
The first day we hiked only six kilometres, spent the afternoon on the beach, had a camp in the forest. The second day, we hiked about 17 kilometres, started in the dark and walked into the rising sun. We spent time in the caves and just really enjoyed being out there. We had another great beach camp, and it was the morning of the third day when things changed dramatically.
It was, what I would say, the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me on many, many, many miles of hiking.
We got up early again to walk the beaches with the low tide. It was still dark.
I generally don’t take off my shoes when I cross creeks. I hike in trail runners. They dry really fast, and I’m just pretty lazy, so I usually leave them on. But Jill was like, “I’m going to take my shoes and socks off,” and I was like, “Oh, that’s a good idea. I’ll do that too.”
I made such a mistake in not securing my shoes to my person or my pack, or just wearing them, because I was almost on the other side of a creek, and I stepped on a big, round rock, and it moved. I slipped. I fell in the water, which was not a big deal. I was on my right side, and my left side was out of the water; that’s how shallow it was. But the flow of the current ripped my shoe out of my hand and took it and launched it to sea, and it was gone. My shoe was lost at sea, and I just started screaming. I was swearing. I was like, “My shoe! My shoe!” All I was thinking was, “How am I going to get out of here with one shoe?”
Could I possibly hike at least to where I could get off the trail and Nitinaht Lake? It was 21 kilometres away. Could I make it there with one bare foot? I couldn’t even walk on the rocks where I was. Jill and I regrouped and we were scanning the shore, the little cove, with our headlamps, trying to find the shoe. I was getting cold because I was soaking wet. And I said to Jill, “Save yourself, save your hike.”
Canadian Olympian Clara Hughes is best known for her ice skates, but after a recent mishap on B.C.’s West Coast Trail, she found herself in strange footwear — one runner and one donated Croc. Here’s the story of how it all started and how it finished.
If I’d been injured, it’d be a different situation. There’s no way she would have left me. But I just wanted her to finish the hike because it’s such a thing to finish a trail and such a hard thing to take the time off from work and to get there. And we were having such a great walk. I didn’t want her walk to end, and I just said I will either have to get rescued, and you don’t need to get rescued with me, or I will figure this out. If I figure it out, we’ll meet up later and we’ll just regroup and see what’s possible.
She walked north. I walked south back across the river. There was a fellow standing on the other bank, and he was looking at us like, What are these two women doing looking at the sea with these little headlamps? I told him what happened. And my new friend, Steve, this fellow’s name was Steve, he was there with three sons, 11, 13 and 15 and his wife.
Steve was going to make sure I had a shoe to hike out of there. It was amazing to experience the generosity of strangers. We saw him playing with his kids the day before. We were like, “That’s such a cool dad. Look at him with his sons.” And then he turned into dad mode for me, even though I’m probably like 20 years older than him. And he literally was like, “I’m going to spread word around camp. We’re going to find a shoe for you. We’ll figure this out.”
He had binoculars that he gave me to scan the shoreline. I was thinking, like, I didn’t even bring an extra pair of shoes, and this guy has binoculars.
Most people have camp shoes. I don’t. I don’t bring them because I generally just don’t use them. Usually, the hikes I do, I’m hiking bigger miles, hiking all day. And when I make camp, I just want to lie down and go to sleep after I eat. So I just found I didn’t use them. So I didn’t have them.
Steve asked around, and then he asked me what size my feet are. I have really big feet; my feet are men’s 11 to 12. And there are a lot of guys out here with that size feet. It turned out his son, Marley, had a pair of Crocs that were beat up and worn out and ripped up. The right one that I needed was ripped all on the side, and the little handle strap around the back was half hanging off. They were a size too small for my feet. Anyway, they offered them, I put it on, and I was like, “I’m gonna make this work.”
I ended up hiking out. I met up with my hiking buddy Jill, 21 kilometres later, at the lake crossing. We were crying. We were so happy to see each other. And then she very tentatively asked me, “Do you think you can go on?” And I was like, actually, I’m kind of doing OK. It’s not that big of a deal to hike in one Croc and one hiking shoe.
There’s something to be said for having skated in skates with no ankle support for 10 years of my life, and all the hiking I’ve done, I have really good ankle strength. I guess I just have really tough feet. I’m really stubborn as well, because all I was thinking was, if I bail here, I’m going to have to come back to finish the trail and make all that effort. I just thought, it’s not that far to go. If I’ve come 21 kilometres on a Croc, I can keep going. So we actually hiked another seven kilometres that day. We had 28 kilometres on the Croc walk day. And the day after that, we hiked about eight kilometres, had a beautiful camp at a waterfall, and then hiked the last 17 kilometres out. And the whole time, my friend Jill was just looking at me, and she was like, this is so Clara.
The Croc is going to have a special place in my home. And I’m going to buy Marley a new pair of Crocs and send them to him.
