The prediction last night was for buckets of snow, well, buckets of snow as far as this part of the country is concerned. In other parts of the country they laugh at the west coast for their uselessness in a couple of centimetres of white stuff.
But the forecast was for 20-30 cm of snow on the coast, and that’s a lot for an area not used to seeing snow anywhere but up on the mountains. When we went for dinner last night we expected to watch it dump outside as we ate.
It didn’t.
We peered out into the pitch blackness outside and listened to some gusty winds, but no snow could be seen.
That definitely changed overnight 🙂
When dim morning light finally broke through the darkness, I could see that the tree branches were coated thickly in snow. It was beautiful, a complete transformation of the world since we arrived. The scene directly off our front deck was decidedly brighter and whiter.
We made breakfast, enjoyed the peaceful scene outside, and then geared up to go for a snow hike around the lighthouse loop of he Wild Pacific Trail. The signs says it takes about 45-60 minutes, but that’s a lark. If you stop in at every single viewpoint (which we did of course!!) you are definitely looking at two hours to fully experience the magnificent ruggedness of this little finger off the coast of BC.
The winds are forecast to hit hurricane force along parts of the coast this evening as a powerful low system sits off the outside of the Island. The winds started to rise late in the morning and be the time we found ourselves looking out over the Pacific towards Bamfield, the bell buoy was clanging and the whistle buoy was moaning. The ocean swells were gently arriving from one direction, the waves from another, and the wind was taking the tops of the breaking crests backwards and flattening them in the distance.
The snow started falling thickly, and the wind alternated between letting it float gently to the ground, or driving it into our faces. Amphitrite Point lighthouse stood squatly on the rocky shore, shining its light, since 1915, out across the coast to warn seafarers of danger, and to guide others safely home. As the weather worsened and the snow thickened, the fog horn started to sound. Everything felt so quintessentially West Coast.
I love it here.
By the time we’d made the full loop and arrived back at our cabin we were hungry, so we had a bite to eat before deciding to drive out to Wickaninish Beach.
However, Parks Canada had another plan for us, and it didn’t involve the beach. Because of the weather, all trails and side roads in the park were closed. Oh well, the weather was definitely deteriorating; the winds were picking up and the snow was being blown around. It seemed like an excellent reason to just snuggle in at the cabin for the remainder of the day, have a bbq, a bit of wine, and listen to the increasing winds tug at the doors and windows to test their integrity.
I really do love this part of the world and all of its violent beauty. I’ll take these cold and lonely beaches over others; I love their moodiness and the way that they change day to day, or even hour to hour.
As at 8pm, the snow has stopped here in Ucluelet and light rain is falling. And now, with the howling winds, the ferries are down again. There is still more snow coming to most of the Island, not here though, and that may make our trip out tomorrow a bit challenging….and hopefully those winds die down.
Or…on the flip side…we have enough food for a couple of additional days…and this place is largely empty save for us and one or two others….we wouldn’t mind if we got stranded 🙂
(15/365)
