Visiting a place, and actually living there are two completely different
experiences. After coming here for 30 years, there is still so much I don’t know.
But last summer I figured out a few of them. Out of shear boredom, I gave myself
a challenge; to visit every beach on the island. Well there are 27! Now considering
that a lot of them are actually the same beach, but with different access points,
let’s put the actual number at 19. I made it to 12, not too bad considering I ran
out of beach weather. But alas, there is one that didn’t make it on the Salt Spring
tourist list, Walker’s Hook.
The name refers to a forested peninsula that is attached to the North side of the
island by a small strip of beach, creating a hook shape. The beach known to be the
largest, and most beautiful on the island (Did I mention it was clothing optional?
) is quite to my disappointment, water access only. The story, as it was told to
me by my Sous chef Nick, is that years ago some.....I’m going to paraphrase
here and go with American, had too much to drink, tripped and broke his leg.
This “American” then tried to sue the property owner of the original access to the
beach, thus ruining it for everyone.
But not to worry, there is a light at the end of this dark and beach less tunnel!
Also, according to my Sous chef, it is still possible to get to, sans boat, at low tide,
if you walk from Grantville St. Beach. And here is where my adventure begins.
So one not so sunny afternoon, I walked down the hill from my place, to
Grantville, and began my way to Walker’s Hook. It quickly becomes obvious
that Nick has not fully explained the complications. At first it is no problem, I’m
trekking across, staying close to the side, but soon the way gets wetter, muddier,
and more slippery. I probably should have turned back, but come on, I was half
way there. Now for the real problem, I hit a very long, very tipped over tree. No
way to go over, no way to go under, around it, it would have to be. So out deeper
in the muck I went, sinking at points up to my knees, and losing my shoes at
multiple points. Well I made it, 45 minutes later, breathing hard, and covered in
mud, there I was, and you know what? It was a really nice beach.
I did a bit of sun tanning, a bit of rock climbing, and a bit of hiking, and then it
was time to go home, but across the mud flats? I think not. I tried to sneak out
through the fishery, unsuccessfully I might add. First I was chased by a BIG dog,
or charged I should say, since I didn’t attempt to run knowing it wouldn’t do me
any good. Then I was yelled at by the BIG man that happened to be chasing the
dog. No problem though, I pulled the tourist card, and was given one free pass,
just one, and told to tell all my friends not to come back. Would I do it again? Of
course, but next time I think i’ll take a boat.
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