The late summer air hung heavy with the scents of pine needles and damp earth as Framke and I began our trek, the Kinsol Trestle rising above us like a wooden cathedral. Sunlight streamed through its latticework, painting geometric patterns on the trail below. Our mission was simple yet sacred: complete a 15km loop that showcased the grandeur of this Vancouver Island landmark and its surrounding forest. Naturally, coffee was going to be a part of the journey.
“Ready for some trail magic?” I teased, adjusting my pack, which held not just essentials and our lunch, but our portable coffee arsenal: an AeroPress, Timemore C3s Pro grinder, foldable pour-over, filters, titanium mugs, and one indispensable tool.
Framke grinned, her enthusiasm as constant as the forest around us. “Always. Though that pour-over on Mount Rainier last fall set a pretty high bar.”
“Challenge accepted,” I shot back with a smirk.
The first stretch of the trail meandered gently, flanked by towering Douglas firs and the murmur of the Koksilah River. The sound swelled as we reached a secluded rocky outcrop overlooking a waterfall—our first coffee stop.
“Perfect,” I declared, dropping my pack.
Framke surveyed the scene. “Where’s the water coming from this time? Don’t tell me we have to wait 90 minutes for your fancy-pants solar kettle to heat up?”
I pulled out the compact Jetboil Flash with a flourish. “Four minutes to boiling—no fuss, no waiting.”
While the Jetboil roared to life, I got to work grinding beans. Today’s pick: a naturally processed Ethiopian Yirgacheffe, bursting with floral and citrus notes. The Timemore C3s Pro made short work of the grind, its smooth burr action and ergonomic design cutting through the beans in no time. As I set up the AeroPress, the aroma of freshly ground coffee filled the air.
With practiced precision, I gave the brew some stirs, locked down the plunger, and gave it a sixty second steep time. Then the press-down came. I brewed the Yirgacheffe, splitting the rich, concentrated aromatic elixir between our mugs, topping them both off with a bit more water from the Jetboil. The bright, fruity notes played beautifully against the forest’s earthy backdrop. We sipped in silence, the moment as perfect as the caffeine was energizing.
Refreshed, we packed up and continued, the trail becoming steeper as it looped back toward the trestle. Along the way, we exchanged greetings with fellow hikers, including a Portland couple soaking up the Island’s beauty with their 9 year old. Framke, who recently, and very sadly had to say goodbye to her longtime companion Donnan, a collie, got to rustle the hair on a few friendly dogs along the way. These small connections added greatly to the day’s charm, but we anticipated a crescendo that was still ahead.
When we finally emerged from the trees, the Kinsol Trestle came into full view. It’s one of those spots that just blows you away. Built in 1920, it’s a massive wooden structure—a true engineering feat from a time when machinery wasn’t doing all the heavy lifting. Made to haul timber from the Koksilah Valley, it even held the title of the world’s tallest freestanding timber rail trestle for a while.
But, like all old things, it took a beating from time and the elements. By the 1980s, it was too unsafe to use and was abandoned and condemned. For years, it sat there, a lamented relic, until a group of locals stepped up. They saw its historical value and fought to restore it. Thanks to their hard work, the trestle got a second chance and reopened in 2011.
Now, it’s not just a piece of history—it’s a must-see destination for hikers, cyclists, and anyone who loves a great view. Standing on it, surrounded by forest, you can’t help but feel a mix of awe and appreciation for what’s been preserved.
Walking across the trestle, the rhythmic thud of wooden planks beneath our feet blended with the natural symphony of the forest. The view was breathtaking: the river below, the hills rising in the distance, all under a canopy of blue sky.
We found our second coffee spot in a clearing with a picture-perfect view of the trestle. It was time for the pour-over.
“Alright,” Framke said, her eyes sparkling, “let’s see what you’ve got coffee boy, because that first cup was pretty good!”
Out came the Native Designs Expedition brewer, a foldable contraption of cloth, copper, and buckles, given to me by our friendly Senior Editor here on CoffeeGeek. Inside were four Hario V60 filters, and a very tiny scale I had packed along for the occasion.
“A scale?!!” Framke noted, in disbelief. “You really are a coffee geek!” Well, of course I am. I don’t use a scale with the Timemore grinder because through experience, I know it holds about 20 grams of coffee up to the top ribs. But I do like having a scale for pourover, to get ratios right.
This time, I would be brewing a rare washed Colombian coffee, chosen for its caramel sweetness and balanced profile. The Jetboil, our trusty companion, once again sprang into action, quickly heating the max volume of water to the perfect temperature.
Then my last trick was pulled out of the bag: a Hario Air Kettle. This ultralight plastic kettle facilitates the kind of controlled pour you need with a V60; something that has proven difficult to do with the Jetboil’s pot.
“Okay, this is next level,” Framke said when she saw the Hario pouring kettle, which is why I love her so much. She really gets me.
Practiced pours. Pause for the bloom, savor the aroma, and continue until the scale reads 300g in brew water weight. One cup down, and repeat the process for the second cup. Then we paused to let the coffee cool down a bit.
As it cooled, we took in the scene: hikers pausing to admire the trestle, sunlight dappling the forest floor. Friendly faces smelling the aromas of the coffee we just brewed, with a twinge of desire to be joining us. Then it was time to enjoy the tastes to go along with the aromas and sights. Smooth, rich, with notes of chocolate and a hint of fruit. Framke leaned against a mossy tree trunk, her sigh of contentment saying it all.
“This is the life,” she said.
I nodded, agreeing silently. These coffee breaks weren’t just fuel; they were moments of connection, of shared joy amplified by the natural beauty around us.
As the sun began to dip, casting the first shadows over the towering trees, we started the final stretch back. The trail felt quieter, the rhythmic crunch of our boots on gravel the only sound. Each of us was lost in thought, enjoying the day’s experiences.
By the time we reached the trailhead, the golden light of early evening bathed the forest. Tired but content, we paused to take it all in.
“Absolutely perfect,” Framke said, squeezing my hand, and pulling me in for a tender kiss.
“Just wait till next time,” I replied, already imagining our next adventure. For us, it’s always about the journey, the sights, the sounds, the feels, and the magic in between. And the coffee.
Ethan fell in love with coffee when he lived in Japan for 2 years. He worked in the coffee business as a roasters apprentice and barista until his late 20s, but never gave up a love for coffee. His favourite vacation is doing solo canoe trips in the interior of Ontario.
2 Responses
Hi Ethan,
I loved your article! It’s inspiring how you combined scenic exploration with coffee appreciation. Your vivid descriptions made me feel part of the journey.
As a coffee lover from Indonesia, I’m curious where exactly is the Kinsol Trestle, and what’s the best way to get there? Also, what coffee stood out the most during your hike?
Warm greetings from the Indonesian coffee scene! Keep sharing your adventures.
Hi there – I’m not Ethan, but the Kinsol Trestle is on Vancouver Island, in British Columbia, Canada. It is close to the city of Nanaimo, BC.