What I Wish I Knew Before Hiking the West Coast Trail
What I Wish I Knew Before Hiking the West Coast Trail
Vancouver Island's premier coastal trail has a reputation for being tough and rewarding. Take this advice from someone who's hiked it.
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When I set out to hike the West Coast Trail (WCT) on Vancouver Island last summer, my expectations were high. I’d heard more hype about this rainforest and beach hike than perhaps any other backpacking route I’d done before, thanks to a handful of Backpacker articles, lots of information on the Parks Canada website, and countless blog posts. I showed up at the trailhead feeling well-prepared, having researched campsites ad nauseam and planned my menu down to the calorie. Prepared as I was, the trail still held loads of surprises for me, as any worthy backpacking trip does. Despite all of my advance research, here’s everything I wish I knew before hiking the WCT.
A non-traditional itinerary is worth it for the solitude.
If you don’t want to see another hiker for miles, the WCT is not for you. It’s a veritable highway—for good reason. The sense of community can be fun, and the views and engaging hiking make the crowds well worth it. Tsusiat Falls is the most popular site on the trail because of the namesake waterfall where hikers gather to bathe. The cascade was scenic, but I wish we’d visited it on a lunch break instead of camping rainfly-to-rainfly with strangers in its vicinity. It is, however, possible to find peace and quiet if you break from the mold. All of the so-called “must-visit” campgrounds were packed; but my favorites were the ones we had to ourselves because they made for uneven mileage days or were generally off the beaten path.

For seasoned backpackers, the suggested itineraries leave ample time to relax.
Parks Canada plies hikers with warnings about the difficulty of the trail. It is, after all, laden with slippery ladders, knee-deep mud, barnacle-covered boulders, and to make things more challenging, it’s often rainy. Hikers are required to attend a ranger-led briefing and safety video before acquiring their permits. The onslaught of information can be overwhelming, but experienced backpackers needn’t be deterred.
Based on our research, my hiking partner and I planned a six-night itinerary (a tad faster than the generally recommended seven). We ended up hiking out a full day early, and finished each day hours ahead of schedule, leaving lots of time for card games and whale watching in camp. The hiking was, frankly, easier than we expected. While the ladders and rugged trail conditions are likely to slow your typical pace, fit and experienced hikers will finish the trail in well under a week. But with beach views and ample wildlife-spotting opportunities, I’d recommend building some leisure time into your schedule.
The legendary crab shack takes forever.
One of the most unique things about the WCT is the floating crab shack at Nitinaht Narrows where hungry hikers can indulge in fresh-caught seafood. The steep prices are worth it for the novelty, but be prepared to wait. We showed up just in time for lunch with almost 10 miles already under our belts—then waited an hour and a half for our food. Save a snack for the wait, or at least stay patient and enjoy a cold drink and the photo albums lining the shack walls. Showing up earlier or later in the day might have helped, too.

Bring motion sickness medication for the shuttle.
The West Coast Trail Express is a godsend for this point-to-point hike. But be warned: The ride between trailheads is at least three hours long, and the forest roads between them are potholed and windy. A bit of Dramamine would have made the whole experience a lot more pleasant.
There’s a reason people hike it again and again.
I don’t often repeat backpacking trips, as there are so many trails I want to hike. On the WCT, I met many hikers who were on their second, third, or even seventh visit to the trail. By the end of my hike, I understood why: The allure of Vancouver Island’s wild coast has stuck with me in the months since I first experienced it. I’ll never forget watching a pod of orcas swim by camp, the fun of slogging through knee-deep mud, or lounging on sun-warmed driftwood while drying out from one of the area’s infamous rainstorms. It’s the kind of trail you’ll want to share with loved ones, where it seems a new adventure is always waiting around the next bend. I can’t wait to go back.





