I honestly didn't think I was going to make it.
We'd spent what felt like an eternity toeing our way downhill over rocks and gnarled tree roots as the sound of rushing water intensified. In the past few minutes, I'd determined that the last stretch of what had been described as a "mostly flat" walk through the woods toward the Skookumchuck Narrows could end up being my cause of death.
I'm a little prone to dramatics and not at all a hiker, in case that wasn't evident.
Nope, I'm just an out-of-shape urbanite from Â鶹´«Ã½Ó³»visiting the Sunshine Coast with her 11-year-old son and had agreed to go on what sounded like nothing more than a long walk.
Our "sherpa" on the trek is Qaid Jivan, a fellow urbanite who, along with his partner, Alyssa McDonald, are the new proprietors of a roadside motel in nearby Madeira Park. The Sechelt Rapids and Skookumchuck Narrows are among the biggest draws for visitors to the region, and the first-time hoteliers were keen to show off one of the province's most awe-inspiring sights, given how likely it is that anyone booking a stay at The Stonewater would have the hike on their agenda.
Sweaty, achy, and on the verge of giving up, we paused to reassess. Through the towering trees, we could see a bit of the rapids. They had just reached high tide and were swirling with unbridled intensity, forming the dramatic peaks that lure daredevil surfers into fates as fodder for tales told down at the pub.
"Is that our group?" I asked, pointing to some people standing on what looked like a flat peninsula of rock in the very near distance. Were they standing in a beatific ray of sunlight? Probably not, but that's how I remember it.
And then my son burst into tears. "I don't want us to stop here. We came all this way! This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance and I want to see the rapids!"
I wish it was my bighearted empathetic "gentle parenting" nature that guided my decision, but the truth is, I took quick stock of what would be more unpleasant: Turning back and bearing the weight of his disappointment or pushing our bodies to make it to join the rest of our group.
"Start walking," I said, pointing towards the rapids and gritting my teeth. "Let's do this."
A few minutes later, we were seated on the cool rocks watching nature do its thing. Photos and videos don't do it justice.
is local speak for the Sechelt Rapids, which, twice daily, is the site where tidal changes prompt a switch in the saltwater flow, resulting in a powerful clash. Water levels can sometimes be nine feet apart as 200 billion gallons of water move through the .
The rapids have a sort of hypnotic effect as they swirl and clash and whirl ceaselessly. Like a balm, the soothing calm eased the sting of the descent through the woods. Nature is healing.
I had never needed convincing to visit the Sunshine Coast before, but suddenly it made more sense to me why people journey further up the highway beyond the gift shops and cafes of Sechelt or the art galleries and restaurants of Gibsons. It takes just that little extra bit of willingness to explore to reap the reward of engaging with the untamed.
The Stonewater finds new owners
In a way, our journey began with the travels of our hosts. Jivan and McDonald started visiting the Sunshine Coast in 2020 when the pandemic had us seeking escape but moving with trepidation within the confines of the province. Their first stay was farther north than many visitors make it on the first go, up near Egmont, a tiny waterfront town that takes about five minutes to see in its entirety and is notoriously home to off-the-grid-ers.
The couple had extensive experience in corporate and event-planning spaces; he in tech and she in coaching, both in creating activations as part of the Shambhala Festival. The duo wound up flexing their creativity and DIY muscles and expanding their expertise in hospitality by converting their East Â鶹´«Ã½Ó³»home into a funky , complete with hand-painted murals in every room.
Meanwhile, Terry Griffin had been putting The Stonewater, an 11-room motel she'd bought several years earlier with her then-husband, off and on the market, in search of the perfect buyer and a retirement in which she could feel at ease about the property's future.
She'd poured her heart and soul into the motel and earned a solid reputation for being friendly and running a reliable operation.
To be fair, The Stonewater had some quirks: Up until a couple of years ago, there was no website, for starters. The big stone sign with its neon "NO VACANCY" lights faced north, towards traffic coming down the highway from the Powell River ferry, a vestige of the era before tourists ventured north from Langdale. The motel had a cast of characters who were tied to the property, including one who made moonshine in barrels in what was ostensibly a pop-up trailer park out back.
Plus, The Stonewater took in laundry from locals, given there wasn't - and isn't - a laundromat for kilometres.
Bottom line: The next generation of The Stonewater couldn't be stewarded by just anybody with a bank draft.
Jivan says that once he and McDonald met Griffin, they horrified their realtors by turning their negotiations into one-on-one exploratory conversations.
It took nine months for a deal to be inked.
Jivan and McDonald got the keys on February 1. Then the work really got underway.
Making all kinds of modern updates to The Stonewater
When I pulled up to check in one late June afternoon, Griffin was working the front desk; she's enjoying retirement but makes herself available to help out when she's needed. Learning the new reservation booking system was a challenge, but she's got it down.
Griffin says this summer she plans to work on getting out and playing more. The vision: taking her dog down to the lake and just floating in the afternoons.
I didn't ask which lake, but the next morning, as I took a quick dip in , I understood the appeal. We passed so many lovely lakes indented with tiny, square volunteer-maintained docks at the road's edge; how easy would it be to just pull over, park, grab a towel, some sunscreen, and a cold drink and jump in and out of the water, unbothered by anyone?
I could, in theory, even become someone who hikes, given the region's bountiful (and often also volunteer-maintained) trails.
I snapped out of my reverie.
Behind Griffin at the front desk, a vintage stereo system complete with a tape deck and turntable is cranking out tunes. The current vinyl and the "playing next" selection from the collection are on display. A young Elton John sings "Rocketman," his voice gently carrying out to the deck in front of The Stonewater's main office.
Even the word "OFFICE," which appears on a forest green sign in a 70s-esque ballooning font that's hung above the entrance has a backstory.
Like a lot of his tales of how he and McDonald upgraded The Stonewater, it begins with "I found this listing on Facebook Marketplace."
In this case, it was someone in Nanaimo who made novelty carved signs on wood. Would he consider doing the motel's signage, like the "OFFICE" and the big sign facing the road?
Obviously, the answer was yes. Jivan says they designed the font and dispatched the unconventional order to the guy on the Island.
Signs, of course, haven't been the only refresh so far at The Stonewater. Jivan and McDonald did much of the work themselves, from re-tiling bathroom floors to building a few key accent pieces bought from everyone's favourite build-it-yourself furniture shop, Ikea. All that packaging taught them a valuable lesson, namely which company's cardboard boxes made the best kindling for the fires they learned to build in The Stonewater's fire pits. In these parts, you build fires.
For guests, that means The Stonewater's rooms have bright, bold pops of colour and a few contemporary touches (like Nespresso machines and smart TVs) that go a long way in updating the look and feel of the suites.
In addition to the rooms, The Stonewater has a handful of A-frame "glamping" cabins that take the tent factor out of camping and include clear panels so you can gaze at the trees and sky from the comfort of your bed - though you'll still be roughing it with outdoor washroom and shower facilities and your own firepit and table.
Scattered around the property are RVs available to book with fully overhauled interiors and campsite-style space out front for dining, cooking, and relaxing.
The Stonewater also now boasts the peaceful, contemporary outdoor Moonshine Spa, named in honour of those barrels of hooch a former local maintained on the property once upon a time. Beyond the massive wooden gate, guests of the hotel - or anyone who wishes to book a time slot - can soak in a cedar hot tub, relax in a sauna with a view of the woods, sit by the fire, or brave a cold plunge.
There's a story behind every piece of equipment in the spa and the stones that serve as ground cover, and, with every tale, there's a personal connection to Jivan and McDonald; it's something they did, someone they met.
Remarkably, The Stonewater never closed for business through the entire renovation. Summer is already proving to be a busy one for the property.
Visiting the Sunshine Coast...but venturing further north
As a newer local, Jivan says he's seen a lot of changes on the Sunshine Coast in just a few years since he and McDonald started visiting.
Property owners, like Griffin, are seeking retirement, and older businesses, like motels and resorts, are on the market.
Increasingly, more visitors are travelling to the Sunshine Coast from Metro Vancouver, swapping the destination with previous holiday spots like Â鶹´«Ã½Ó³»Island and the Okanagan, influenced by crowding, cost, ease of travel, and climate.
Jivan is keen to be among the first to gently shift the region into a more contemporary identity that's accessible to travellers, balancing progress with the untamed nature of the region.
Many Vancouverites, like myself, may have been to the Sunshine Coast but never ventured north of Sechelt or even Gibsons, which is only a few minutes from where the ferry lands at Langdale. Those communities have seen tremendous growth and plenty of energetic urban expats opening businesses, like cideries and breweries or restaurants and coffee shops.
The zeitgeist is slowly trickling north. Guests at The Stonewater now have a few more close options for going out if they don't want to cook in their room's kitchenette or on the property's outdoor grills.
From tasting menus to trailer take-out
on the John Henry property in Garden Bay is one such business; it's a contemporary restaurant that offers anything from caviar service to a nearly $200 "seacuterie" board. It's a newer venture, operated by the same people who run Sechelt's vibey El Segundo and Vancouver's The Shameful Tiki Room.
Guests can opt to "trust the chef" and indulge in a multi-course dinner called the "experience." Our group did the latter, clocking 11 courses in just under four hours, with dishes like an elk and coffee tart or creamy torched scallops served in shells. The server said she would guarantee we'd leave full, and she was right.
Did the meal always take four hours or was that a fluke? Hard to say. Jivan says he's since heard people have completed the "experience" in about an hour and a half. In some places, this is chalked up to operating on "island time," which, in this case, is "coast time." No matter. The food and drinks were good and the view of the marina lovely.
In some ways, The Osprey is the polar opposite of another local food spot, Budabing (or Triple B's) Burgers, a trailer serving up casual eats Madeira Park. They don't have a website or social media, but their menu does feature more pages with "rules" than with food options.
While our crew had picked out some burgers for lunch, when the order was being called in, the Budabing owners explained that they didn't have any burgers to serve. Would we like fish & chips instead? Sure, why not?
Sunshine Coast a haven for artists and thrifters
The call had gone in while we were exploring one of the many places in the area where local artisans sell their goods alongside a slew of secondhand treasures and antiques. We're talking handmade jewellery, quilts, and paintings, and curiosities like a pair of dentures in a jar and an old Saved By the Bell-era brick cellphone. The latter were both items fished out of the water and, if nothing else, make for great conversation starters with visitors.
The shop's sole employee didn't seem surprised to hear the burger trailer had no burgers. That's just how it is sometimes on the Coast.
Unsurprisingly, so many artists - potters, painters, sculptors, weavers - call the Sunshine Coast home, thanks to its relative affordability and laid-back lifestyle. Each year, the communities band together to host the region's , which stretches from Langdale to Earls Cove and finds about 260 artists opening up their studio spaces to the public every October.
Perhaps secondary to the region's love of the arts is its terrific thrifting and antiques scene. There are bargains and finds galore in even the most unsuspecting places, and you could easily send yourself on a DIY treasure hunt.
When it was time to pick up our fish and chips, there were a few extra minutes to browse one such thrift shop, the Bargain Barn. There was just time enough for me to find a couple of small items for $1 each; the lovely volunteers at the counter thought I was nuts when I told them to just double my total to $4 so I could meet the minimum to use my debit card to pay. Trust me, I'd have done some serious damage in there if our lunch wasn't getting cold.
That's also why we only had a minute to pop into across the street, where they insisted we take a spin through the new info centre for PODS. Jivan knew the EarthFair folks, who simply let us into the locked showroom to look around on our own.
PODS is the Pender Harbour Ocean Discovery Station, which is in the but is expected to be a bit of a game changer for the area. It's a marine life research, education, and recreation centre going in on the waterfront nearby and it will be constructed of mass timber. One of its backers is the Wilson 5 Foundation, a private philanthropic foundation established in 2012 by Chip and Summer Wilson.
While PODS is fodder for a future visit, lunch was a "now" thing, so it was back to The Stonewater to gather at the picnic tables to feast before a lazy afternoon of napping in the cabin, a spa session, and an al fresco grilled dinner.
Then there was a certain hike on the agenda. You know, a "mostly flat" walk timed to the tides.
'Sometimes just staying at the hotel is much, much better'
There was still plenty of daylight left as we neared the trailhead on our way back from the Sechelt Rapids, and my son, who was motivating himself with thoughts of having some dessert by the fire and resting his sore feet, asked me out of the blue if I knew what my takeaway from our weekend trip was.
"What a great question," I replied. "I'm not sure yet, there's a lot to think about."
"I know mine," he declared. "One: Always bring bug spray. Two: Don't go on two-hour hikes. And three: Sometimes just staying at the hotel is much, much better."
We laughed.
"You know," said Jivan, "I'll take it. If he says hanging out at The Stonewater beats The Skook, I'm fine with that!"
About an hour later we were under blankets in cozy Adirondack chairs under the June stars. Frogs were croaking in the distance. The campfire issued a steady glow and wafts of smoke, and The Grand Budapest Hotel played on a gently undulating screen tied between two trees. We quietly slurped bowls of instant ramen and occasionally scratched at mosquito bites.
I realized I'd never done anything like that before. It was another first in a short two days of firsts. I didn't even want to lift my iPhone to snap a "pics-or-it-didn't-happen" shot.
On the way out the next morning, I gave one last wave to Jivan, who was up at the window of another guest's car, chatting with the driver. I suspect, that like me, they arrived as strangers but were leaving feeling like friends.
Sheryl Crow's "A Change Would Do You Good," comes up on shuffle on the car stereo. "Hello it's me, I'm not at home, if you'd like to reach me, leave me alone," Crow sings, like someone ready to go off the grid (before we probably were using that term for it). That was precisely the weekend we'd had.
As the windy road down the Sunshine Coast highway carried us away from The Stonewater, there was only one topic we wanted to discuss: When could we go back?
The Stonewater: Getting there, booking stays and spa sessions
The Stonewater is located at 13483 Sunshine Coast Hwy in Madeira Park, B.C. Rooms, trailers, and tiny cabins are available for rental. The is open to anyone and can be booked separately starting at $80 (75 minutes for two people).
From Vancouver, the Sunshine Coast is accessible via a 45-minute BC Ferries ride from Horseshoe Bay to Langdale; a fee is charged only on the outbound portion of the trip and reservations are strongly suggested. From Langdale, you'll drive north on the Sunshine Coast Highway (BC-101) for an hour.
Thanks to The Stonewater for hosting a two-night stay and for facilitating the food and activities. All opinions and inclusions are those of the author and were based solely on personal experience. None of the businesses or entities featured were granted any previews of the story before publication or paid to be mentioned.
