2021 // The Lost Coast on Film
Humboldt County
California, February & March 2021
Where do I even begin…Gina pitched this dumb idea during Christmas 2020 to Lauren and me.
Gina: I reserved backpacking permits for the Lost Coast trail, ya wanna go?
Lauren and I cautiously replied “yes” but asked for more information like WHEN and WHERE - really any detail would do.
What we would learn was that the Lost Coast is a 25-mile point-to-point trail along the Northern California coastline traversing black sand beaches. WOW! Sounds grand, unique, you know a once-in-a-lifetime sort of thing. We were “in”. Oh, but Gina’s permit dates? End of February into March…one might say “prime” backpacking time (most would not). Dumbfounded by the absurdity, Lauren and I went back and forth, weighing all the details, hopes, desires, and drawbacks.
Positive: one of my goals for 2021 was to go backpacking - this would easily cross it off.
Negative: Lauren and Peter were the only ones with backpacking experience; Gina and I were mere novices.
Positive: scenic views and immersing ourselves in nature.
Negative: uh, WHAT would the weather look like?
Positive: the potential of an adventure.
Ultimately, about two weeks until departure, Lauren and I decided “fuck it we’re going” and made the necessary arrangements with work and the many trips to REI to stock up on supplies. Ah, that’s another detail, Lauren and I would drive fourteen hours down from Washington for this. Was it worth it? We’d have to wait and find out.
For us, we made it into an extended weekend excursion with the bulk of the weekend dedicated to 2.5 of the hike bookended by two days of driving. Day 1, Lauren “worked” in the car while I drove the majority of the way through Oregon, making stops in Portland (prime sustenance), Salem (weird and not worth it), and Grant Pass, where we really thought we’d die in a Motel 6. Day 2 kicked off with our fourth consecutive meal in the car and a two-hour delay on the 101 for mudslides because I vetoed conventionality for the scenic route. I will say, it’s always worth it on the 101. Our GPS took us through sleepy Eureka which I thought would be cuter, and after another stop at a Costco for reasonable gas and a reliable bathroom, we weaved our way to the Pacific Ocean to Shelter Cove to meet Gina and Peter.
In our hotel room, we recapped our days and inquired as to how Gina managed to drop her iced coffee through Peter’s sunroof and all over the interior of the car. Laughing and gorging on pizza, the panic prepping commenced and we all repacked our bags and questioned our sanity.
Another detail Gina failed to initially disclose was that the start point was two hours away. The plan of attack was to park my car at the end of the trail and hop in Peter’s to drive to the start. We quickly realized that we’re just walking 25 miles to get back to cars. Anyway, our journey kicked off with an overly optimistic start. The weather had held out, it was the perfect temperature, we got started on time, and were going at a great pace. We had to be mindful of the tides for there were areas along the trail that were impassible during high tide aka death if you got caught there. In our first impassable zone, high tide was ending so we decided to eat lunch alongside our elephant seal friends. Once the tide had receded, we braced ourselves and rounded the cliff corner only to be met with gale-force winds.
Fully exposed along the coastline, the trek was equal parts stunning as it was windy. We spotted countless seals and admired the lighthouse and rolling hills set against the crashing ocean waves. Things were going overall, quite well, which should have been a red flag to us. Because the nature of the trail is on the beach, the path could be hazy at points. We knew we were always going in the right direction as long as the ocean was on our right-hand side.
Well, we got lost. Approaching a huge boulder on the beach with a relatively high tide that would require a well-timed scurry to prevent wet hiking boots, we came to the consensus of climbing up and around the barrier. Everything seemed “fine” until the scramble was far too treacherous. Our timing was quite poor and the waves were bashing the rocks below us. For our safety, we opted to wait for it all out, fully exposed to wind and sea mist on this rock face.
With the delay of getting lost, we arrived at the flats where we had planned to camp as the sun quickly descended. There wasn’t much time to soak in the surroundings for we needed to set up camp as fast as possible, otherwise, we’d be doing it in the dark.
We managed to pull our camp together and piled into one tent to keep warm and hang out for a bit since the wind was relentless. The result of the wind was an utterly sleepless night. Lauren and I felt the tent cave in on us on multiple occasions throughout the night and I know I woke up with bags under my eyes. The coffee we brought as a treat was something I could not look forward to more.
Groggy from a sleepless night, we trekked on. The tone for day two was set by the absurd amount of creek crossings. There is nothing more demoralizing than the constant arrival at a creek, pause of momentum, crouching down to switch shoes, walking a mere ten yards, drying off your feet, and putting on your hiking boots again.
The expansive coastline stretched out in front of us infinitely which prompted Lauren and me to discuss anything and everything to take our minds off the pain of our feet. About midday, we reached a deciding point: continue on for numerous more miles and get through the impassable zone or pause for the day and attempt tomorrow, making for a long day. Thank god we chose the former to power through.
Delirious from a twelve-mile day, we made camp between large driftwood logs on the beach just in time for a beautiful Pacific Ocean sunset and camped under the stars. We passed the evening by recounting the day’s events by a real fire.
Rejuvenated by a sound sleep, we relished the black sand beaches that stretched the remaining part of the trail. I cannot convey the relief I felt of seeing the parking lot and taking off our shoes. On the two-hour drive back to Peter’s car, Gina revealed that most people usually take three to four and a half days…we hauled through it in two and a half. No wonder why we were decimated.
Back at the start, we said our goodbyes to Gina and Peter and headed back north. Along the way, we drove through the Avenue of Giants. The staggering redwood trees loomed over my car as we wove our way through the road that had been carved in the forest. It sounds cheesy, but it was magical. Lauren and I spent the night in Eureka, and the following day made it back to Washington.
Our big gamble on this information scarce trip turned out to be a huge success. These photos are a glimpse into my first backpacking trip, perseverance, absolute serenity, and really throwing reason out the window and just going for it. And I also learned to never trust Gina blindly with an idea without doing my own research.
