Losing Our Minds at Cameron Lake
But I never thought I would be stuck on Highway 4 for 15 hours, regretting every pee break and tourist shop stop on the way home—in summertime.
This is a story of peril, of joy, and of excitement. A goofy situation that left several heavy duty mechanics shocked that we made it home alive. A truly heinous rollercoaster of events that led to me never wanting to go further north than Parksville or Coombs ever again.
Picture it: a gang of friends, the Duncanites, drive to Tofino on their own for the first time.
We are ready to drive 3 hours and 30 minutes.
We are ready to party all night long.
We are ready to sleep in a comfy tent trailer.
And we are ready to put on sunscreen and surf!
I booked the campsite three months in advance for six people—Friday to Sunday. We had wanted to stay a third night, but we all had to work on Monday.
We brought along Ethan, a registered HVAC Tech and expert escape room escaper; Ethan’s cousin Brayden, the clinically insane “Dad” of the group and Driver #1; Victoria, who works for Brayden’s father as a sort of web designer and has great dating advice; Jadan, who has a toxic-male-Leo addiction and a love of cats; and Ross, stoner extraordinaire and aspiring chef.
Oh, and me of course—budding artist, casual journalist, and Driver #2.
A surprisingly coordinated misfit gaggle of friends.
We divided into two cars, three people each, and headed to Costco to grab a few last minute things. We had picked up most of our groceries ahead of time, and I was well-prepared (or so I thought) for disaster and discombobulation.
The Costco trip was the first of our problems.
It was incredibly busy and lugging around a heavy cart through the crowd was terrifying. We dashed around, grabbing everything we needed, and left the store as quickly as possible.
Soon we were on the highway, road signs passing us by. The drive was lovely. A sunny Friday morning-turned-afternoon with air conditioning and a car packed full of snacks, pop, and comfy clothes.
As we approached Cameron Lake, the traffic slowed.
After the wildfire in June this year, the Cameron Lake Bluffs on Highway 4 were closed for construction and repairs. Most days, they allowed single-lane alternating traffic, but other days, the highway was shut down completely.
We were feeling extremely lucky because there was a plan to close off the road completely on Monday, so we were going to just miss the blockade by a day!
We waited at the construction block for 30 minutes before continuing on our way to the treacherous, winding road to Tofino.
Only five minutes or so after missing the turn-off, we found ourselves tucking into our campsite.
But I never thought I would be stuck on Highway 4 for 15 hours, regretting every pee break and tourist shop stop on the way home—in summertime.
Quick camping tip: bring as much food and gear from home as you can think of. I thought I had overpacked, but I definitely did not.
As soon as the tent trailer was parked at the campsite on Friday afternoon, Jadan and I were sent out on a search for alcohol. And fixings for the burgers. Because somehow we forgot all of these things at home and at Costco.
Oh—and a spatula, which is apparently too much to ask of the Tofino Co-op Food Store. Because when your grill is literally on fire, a plastic spatula is not great.
But it all worked out in the end and we had a fun first night.
And then it was Saturday. It was a cold mid-July morning on the West Coast. We rented our wetsuits and surfboards and headed out into the fog on Saturday. Brayden and I had surfed before, but it was everyone else’s first time.
The waves crash hard over our heads. We gripped the sand by our freezing toes—except me because I was smart and wore boots.
We had a late night, and after going to bed around 2 am, I wasn’t too excited to be waking up at 9 am on Sunday morning. I definitely wasn’t ready to drive the four hours home—at least, not without coffee.
It was a lazy morning but it went by in a blur. We played cards and tidied the small campsite. Before we knew it, the clock struck 10 am—we had one hour to put down the trailer and get moving. We scrambled to put everything away.
The Subaru’s trunk was packed so tight that I couldn’t see out the rearview mirror. It was slightly pitiful how long it took to put down the tent trailer, but by 11:30 am, we were finished and scuttling out of Site 28.
Free of the campsite time limit, we went and had these really amazing tacos and cheesy tater tots at the Tacofino in Long Beach Golf Course.
Jadan, Ethan, and I went to a little shop in Ucluelet called The Crow’s Nest to buy the cutest little felt mushrooms for our cars. We met up with Brayden, Victoria, and Ross after they returned our wetsuit rentals.
We stopped for gas and then got on the road to head home.
Somewhere on Tofino’s twisty road to Port Alberni, my car started to make the strangest groaning sounds, and every so often the steering wheel would randomly jerk us to the left. It’s a 19-year-old car, so I wasn’t overly concerned—sometimes these things happen, and it was just another thing to add to the long list of problems we’d faced on this trip.
We had high hopes for Coombs—maybe after a snack at Tim Hortons, the tourist stop would be our next rest point.
But we were sorely mistaken.
I began to regret the two Timmies donuts as we drove through Cathedral Grove in MacMillan Provincial Park.
The cars ahead of us started to drive slower and slower. We were approaching the alternating single-lane traffic of Cameron Lake again.
Cars piled up one by one. Like the Friday before, we were expecting to wait no longer than half an hour.
Disappointment came much quicker this time, though, when a white truck with flashing yellow lights drove past us to say, “We’re waiting here until 8 pm for another update.”
8:00?!
It was 4:00!
The clock started to tick.
Mushrooms!
Photo By: Jenaya Shaw
Several people turned around immediately and we inched up every once in a while. When there were gaps between us and other cars ahead, cars from further down the line would move ahead of us in a huff—as though it would make a difference.
Later, we set up chairs and blankets between Brayden’s Ford Ranger and my Subaru and passed around the wine bottle, a mickey of Fireball, and bags of chips.
Jadan brought Java mix—a pre-made coffee mix that just needs milk to be a substantial drink—and Ethan and Brayden made a nosedive into the trailer door, while it was still collapsed, to dig out a skinny carton of milk. The carton was bent and squished by the time it made it out, but it was still milk.
We sat on the road and watched many strangers pass by. Some took their dogs out for walks, some held their child’s hand as they walked on the meridian, a handful went down to the shore of the lake for a swim. Others, like us, just walked around for something to do.
Music was loud at our little Duncanite car stop. Some people scrunched their faces at us as they went by—obviously jealous of our chips.
We were content. Not super happy of course, but we made the most of the situation.
It could have been much worse.
We were in the best spot on the road, away from rocky cliff sides and dangerous trees in the grove. We heard that, with the high winds, a tree had fallen on a car. An ambulance was called and it wailed past us as a Dodge Ram and its glamper tried to get in the gap ahead. Brayden jumped to his feet and waved his hands at the oncoming Dodge, screaming for it to go back so that the ambulance could pass through. Luckily, the Dodge moved in time, before there was a head-on collision.
The clock ticked on. Finally, 8 pm rolled around.
By now, Victoria, Ethan, and I had found a port-a-potty—thank God. Even though it was almost overflowing and there was hardly any toilet paper left to spare, the relief was like no other. You can bet I took my sweet time.
We waddled our way back to our cars and Brayden told us the new update.
Please wait until 10 pm for further updates.
I had long since phoned my mom, who explained that the urgent blockade was due to high winds.
I was not impressed. As far as high winds were concerned, as a West Coast gal, I have seen and travelled in far worse weather.
Well, if we only had to wait until 10 pm … We had already waited four hours, so what was another two?
But as I stood on the meridian and looked up and down the line of cars, campers, vans, and trucks, I almost cried. Almost lost my mind.
In a moment of distress, we contemplated the logistics of breaking into the McDonalds semi-truck.
“I could kill for a Big Mac right now,” Jadan said.
I was becoming frantic: “What if it’s a cull—I bet it’s a social experiment. Let’s see what happens if we all lose our minds!”
But as we watched people turn their cars around and head back to Port Alberni, we never considered doing the same. We knew that we were best where we were.
At 10 pm, we were given another update: the next update would be at 5 am.
I felt nothing. I was too tired to care.
We decided that since we had to wait seven more hours, we might as well get some sleep. We didn’t see the point of setting up the tent trailer, so we all climbed into our cars with enough blankets, jackets, and pillows to make the cramped seats comfortable.
I woke up at 6:30 am. Late, but good. And despite the gear shift stabbing me in the back all night, I slept okay.
The car was stuffy and hot, and the windows were all fogged up.
When I rolled out of the car, other vehicles were starting to drive west-bound, toward Port Alberni.
In a groggy state, I wondered if this oncoming traffic were people they let through who didn’t sleep overnight.
But the line of cars just kept coming, and coming, and coming.
At 7:15 am, our lane started to move.
I quickly ran back to the driver’s seat from my squatted position over the meridian, just as it started to rain.
Brayden and I started our engines and we finally—finally—started to crawl forward.
The cranes holding up the rock wall were in our rearview mirrors, and all the workers with them. On the other side of the blockade were many other cars waiting to go to Port Alberni—to go home, just like us.
Through writing this, I have been trying to find a point. Some meaning or grand lesson to be had from this story.
Sometimes things happen to us. Sometimes we just have to think on our feet when we don’t have a plan. I don’t know if there was any way for us to have made things different. Maybe if we had left sooner, we would have avoided the blockade.
But if we did, we wouldn’t have gotten the third night of vacation that we were all craving. It was honestly the least stressful part of the weekend.
Many people were angry, frustrated, and upset by the blockade. They turned around and sped off back to Port Alberni. Maybe they took the Bamfield logging road home. I found out later that the rush of people trying to find places to sleep for the night caused a shortage of food in the restaurants—the motels were completely full, too.
And even though we were frustrated too, we took the time to just enjoy each other’s company.
We sat in a Smitty’s an hour later. Even then, we looked back and reminisced about how my car made funny sounds on the way home and threatened to break down on the side of the road.
We laughed about how we never got to see Coombs.
We laughed about finding potty spots over the bank.
And we laughed about losing our minds at Cameron Lake.
Ethan, Jadan, and I on the way home in the Subaru.
Photo By: Jenaya Shaw
Jenaya is a multi-genre writer and artist in her fourth year as a Creative Writing and Psychology major. She’s proud to represent The Nav for a third year in a row, this time as Managing Editor. She lead social media and was Art Director for Portal 2024, where her review of Burning Sage and photos such as “Match Made” and “Wall-Crawler” appear. Over the summer, she worked as an Editor for GOOEY Magazine. Now, having served as co-Program Coordinator for the Nanaimo Arts Council’s 2024 Islands Short Fiction Review, she is the leading Coordinator for Nanaimo Artwalk 2024. Jenaya spends her free time reading, drawing, playing survival horror games, and writing her novel. Her future dreams include catching rays and reporting in Australia or Taiwan.