The Lost Coast Trail
As Brian and I were heading down from Washington to California to visit my family, I decided to look into some backpacking trips we could do along the way. We often just blitz through these drives, but I was antsy for some hiking with the dogs after being rained out in Washington. I came across the Lost Coast Trail, which sounded perfect. It was 24.6 miles, very secluded, and takes hikers down a remote section of California coast. I had never done any trips along a beach and I was immediately committed. I texted Chelsea to see if she would join us on the trail and to my delight, she said she could make it. In reading up on the trail, it is suggested to hire a shuttle service for $200. "Yea right!" I told Brian. Our original plan was to do a bike shuttle, but with Chelsea on board we would be able to leave cars at both ends of the trail. We did our food buy in Oregon and met Chelsea at the southern trailhead.
The roads to the trailheads turned out to be pretty absurd and after going through the hassle of the shuttle, we all agreed that we would cough up the $200 if we were going to do it again. We hit the trail in the early afternoon on our first day. Because there are several section of the trail that are impassable at high tide, you have to time your hike to hit those sections of beach during certain time frames. We were only able to hike a short distance the first day, which made for a relaxing afternoon at our camp on a bluff above the ocean. On our way to camp, we passed the Punta Gorda lighthouse, many sunbathing sea lions, a baby otter, and lots of seabirds.
We slept in on our second day because our low tide hiking window didn't begin until about 10:30. At the point we hit the beach in earnest so we could pass through the four sections of tide dependent shoreline before the water got too high. Even with our timing, there were a couple of exciting sections where we had to run around rocky outcroppings. Chelsea and I both got hit by a big wave on one of these crossings. After Star got swept up and had to do a bit of doggy paddling on one section, she quickly learned how to time her travel in between wave sets. The dogs had a blast frolicking down the beach and wrestling in the sand. After a full day of hiking, we settled on a nice beach campsite where we had a fire and a Thanksgiving dinner complete with stuffing, mashed potatoes, chicken, and gravy.
The third day dawned foggy and we set off on another four mile stretch of tide dependent shoreline. The deep sand and rolling rocks under our feet made for a physically taxing journey and muscles that I had never felt before became sore. The scenery and variety of the trail kept us motivated as we continued along through the mist. Towards the end of the trail, we crossed paths with two hikers and worked up the courage to ask the question that had been on our mind the past few days. "Who is our next President?" we asked hopefully. The couples faces fell. The man looked away, and the woman turned toward us so her partner couldn't see and made a little 'T' symbol with her hands. She couldn't even say his name. We spent the next few minutes determining whether they were messing with us or not, before continuing on our way, shocked. The next two sites we saw were a dead seal skeleton and a whale carcass. Seemed fitting. We tried to push the news to the back of our minds as we finished off the beautiful trail. We triumphantly arrived at Black Sands Beach, the southern terminus of our journey, loaded up to run the shuttle, and made our way to a pizza joint, tired and satisfied from a wonderful three days in the backcountry.
