Goldstream in the Mist

It gives me a little thrill every time some hiker stops me on a route I know and asks me questions about what’s down this trail or how long it is back to some waypoint. By now in places like Goldstream I can usually answer them, save them some frustration. People talk less these days, for obvious reasons - even outside lot of people are almost scurrying guiltily around. I understand. But today I gave some folks some socially distanced directions to a waterfall and even that little bit of interaction with society was like a high, like, ahh, thank you for reminding me there are other real humans out there I don’t already live with.  

I like to start at the parking lot, cross under the highway through the culvert, go up around  Niagara and see the trestle, then walk along the ridges south all the way to the cross-under at the start of the Malahat, then take the trail back up to Finlyson and end with a hella view. But when the creek’s high, there’s no dry spots under the highway and you can’t do that circuit without taking off your boots twice, so I just went out and back from the crossunder to the trestle. I love this trail because it’s a gradual up and down along the ridge so you can hike it or you can run it if you’re feeling like you need to burn off energy. 

Also like halfway down the trail I realized that I’ve been making decisions and setting 2021 goals like I want to be happy, but I dunno if I actually want to be *happy* - happy is a temporary state of mind like sadness and I tend to equalize pretty quick. What I want, really, is to live a life where I’m proud of myself. I need to be proud of myself. And the whole “be good to yourself because pandemic” is fine, and true, but I am just one of those people who needs to, like, have done stuff they’re proud of, so maybe deemphasizing sequestering/relaxation and re-emphasizing communication and taking care of things is good for me right now? 

Damn was it a pretty place to think about stuff though. The sun was out and the sky was blue and that January green was shining like neon in the wet needles and new moss and gleaming salal and oregon grape and the mist was funnelling down through Finalayson Arm and in through the alders and hemlocks and firs. The sea mist was making the sunlight shaft through the trees but then in the shadows I saw mist rising from the wet ground itself as though the earth was breathing, and it was like all these different kinds of mist swirling in the air. If I sound euphoric it’s because I felt euphoric, it is euphoric, I’ll take euphoria over temperance right now for any reason. 

Time: 1.75 h

Distance: ~10K

Rating: Easy, some sustained climbs but no scrambling.