It was 5 o’clock somewhere, for many that means time to call it a day, for us it meant time to hit the trail and for me lead those that were putting their lives into my hands on a never to be forgotten adventure. Running solo, I knew how to do well, leading a group on a multi day adventure not so well. This time it would be six trucks running a few hundred kilometers of dirt roads, a run that I’d done solo a many time and “knew” how long it took.
Lesson #1 when traveling long distances, add about 20% travel time for each added vehicle.
We made to the Hatchery to air down before sunset and worked out the plan for the night – hit the West Harrison hard to make the most of time, get into Skookumchuck by midnight, lay claim to the campsite that Travis had set aside for us and get an amazing soak floating under the stars. I took the lead on that dry August night, mesmerized by beauty that lay around me, away from the light pollution, and being in the lead was able to see every star clearly.
We managed to stay a solid convoy up to Tipella, hitting it about midnight, I’d failed to calculate both the waiting for the vehicle behind you to check in and the “safe dust distance” in our arrival time. We headed down the Lillooet FSR, hoping to pick up a bit of speed.
Lesson #2 make sure the tail gunner has a radio that you can talk to.
We wouldn’t hit the turn off to Skookumchuck until about 1:30 AM. I’d seen the turn off and took it, waiting for the trucks behind me to turn in, I saw them on the road above pause and assumed they’d seen my lights and were turning off. Alas nope, and none of them were familiar with where the turn off was. Somehow even though I saw their headlights, and they had come to a full stop, they didn’t see me and continued down the road for about another 20 minutes until coming back. I’d tried to reach Shaun on his radio, but he couldn’t pick me up on the handheld unit. At one point they finally turned around and headed back and I was waiting for them.
Finally, about 2 AM we got into camp, a few of us wandered off to the tubs. I think it was about 3:30, the others had left to try to get some sleep before I dragged them into another crazy unforgettable day of adventure. Laying back floating in the tub, staring at the prefect summer night making a wish on every falling star. Time stands still and comes to perfect halt in those moments. Embedding in your memory the texture, tastes and sounds of perfection and you know that you are the only person on this planet that is getting to steal that part of the world for your soul. You don’t have to share with anyone else, it’s yours and no one can take that from you.
Lesson #3 Remember most people actually eat in camp and require coffee to function on only 4 hours sleep and do not live on fruit. Well they say you are what you eat!
We headed out under the perfect August Sun, making good time in the daylight up to Pemberton. Shaun stopping a few times to get some footage, me finding a random pair of jeans laying on the side of the road and wondering “What’s it’s story?” We gathered up the necessary gas, food and other supplies, and I was reminded that it feels a bit like herding trucks to get everyone to the same place and ready to go. Meanwhile I’m getting antsy going why am I still on a paved road!!!! I want my dirt now now now.. They are just chuckled and went “ohhhhhmmmmm Kris” “ohhhmmmmm Kris”.
We got to the base of the Hurley, soon to experience its washboard roads turning the trucks into musical instruments. The wheelers soul will always pay that ticket price for the vistas and beauties the backroads bring us. The mountainscapes surrounding us slowly exposing their true souls, in colors so vivid that they feel surreal. Part of the appeal of the sub alpine trails, is that they don’t feel real and it’s like you are time traveling and landed in some alternate universe. The trees stunted in growth, the sparsity, the way you can see the layers of the earth and how they formed over the millions of years.
We arrived in Goldbridge, slipped by the old car that lay on the side of the road, and the abandoned homes that most overland explorers know so well. Pulling into the Pioneer Mine, which holds a piece of my soul, the others getting to experience its power for the first time. Shaun excited by the old dynamite structure quickly scrambling up into where normally only the pack-rats play; others carefully picking their way through the remains that look like they exploded.
On the way out we took a slight detour and headed up to the upper part of the Pioneer Town to explore the remains of the larger structure that remains. There are several rumours about what it was, however one of the times I was there I spoke with a gentleman who had grown up in the house across from it. In his opinion it wasn’t an old whore house, and that I must respect as he would know on better authority then anyone I’ve spoken to.
There are these sacred places in the wheeling world, where the lessons of yesteryear collide with todays’ world. Pioneer Mine is one of those, I whispered safe travels to the guardians that protect the remains thanking them for sharing it with me. The day was starting to slip away, and we needed to get to our next base camp at Mud Lakes before dark. For some reason the road in is one that has etched its way into my memory and I know it like the back of my hand, once walking someone ahead of me through it using radio from a distance.
Lesson #4: There are wild animals out there…. Not just the human ones..
We found the second campsite in the grassy area open and set up our tents, settling into a campfire and a few stories. Knowing the beauty that the next day would bring, falling asleep in my tent to the perfect silence of just the rhythm of the cicada’s and fish jumping. Waking up the next morning to the sound of rustling outside the tent, having that half-asleep moment of oh god is it a bear? Is this finally the time I need to deal with this… Knowing Adrian was still asleep in the tent beside me, and his dog was with him that it couldn’t be that bad… I peaked out of the tent to be greeted by a rather less ferocious beast calming eating grass looking rather perturbed that I wanted to take his picture so early in the morning.
The smell of bacon and coffee on the communal morning grill hitting the air got everyone moving and packed up, as the Herd of Turtles passed by. As we hit the road, everyone became more excited that we were moving our way closer to peak of the legendary Poison Mountain. We left Mud Lakes and slowly traversed our way to the crest that bridges the distance to Swartz Lake. I’ve always loved that spot, when I look down at the two lakes, it hits me that I’m finally home again where I belong. Where I’ve left civilization and returned to my roots that bring me peace, it is these moments that ground my soul and cleanses it as if I’ve gone to confessional.
We passed Swartz lake, and much like Jack and Jill, we all went up the very rutted off camber switch back hill. For many the novice driver, as I remember from my first solo run up It in 2013, it is a challenge in the mental state of Oh God I’m really doing this. Reaching the top of the hill, stopping under the epic sign that is etched in the memory of every wheeler going from novice to immediate that has passed it, to celebrate and go OMG OMG OMG I made it. I once descended that hill in a Unimog, now that puts a different perspective on it as you sway back and forth moving trees out of the way.
Everyone enjoyed reaching the new point, as we talked about the different routes that could be reached going out the other way, however our journey was the road to the right, that would take us to the serene 3 way intersection, and our Lesson #5 at the top of Poison – When Brake Lines Go Bad and tires die.
Trix's Trax 