Reprint from a 2014 article – 4WD Magazine
Sometimes, we do things for other people, and sometimes, we do things solely for ourselves. This past summer, I had the opportunity to finally take on a challenge that had been on my lifetime bucket list. I learned to wheel and camp by myself. Where there is no written agenda other than a destination, you work on your own schedule. Over the last year, I made it my goal to make that happen.
I had an incredible group of friends at home rooting me on, keeping tabs on me and my SPOT to ensure I was where I was supposed to be, and a close friend pushing me in every way they could to have the courage to do it. They included random text messages from Cabin Lake, which I sent him asking if it was safe to tent, being the only one at the lake. What if a Grizzly was going to come and eat me?
Last summer, I hit up Shea Lake, Cabin Lake twice, Sloquette hot springs a half dozen times, Hale, Sunrise, Kookapi four times, Yalokum twice, Kenyon a half dozen times, Whipsaw and several other of my favorite haunts on weekend excursions. I mastered the skill sets of swapping out my own u-joints, brake pads & differential fluid, and other minor maintenance items with the help of my amazing group of friends. All in all, only one minor mishap occurred, and that weekend is a story of its own to come later.
In late July, I had the opportunity to make the trip of a lifetime; it had been on my list for years – Poison Mountain/China Head. I’d seen the pictures from Maciej’s & the Herd of Turtles’ journeys and was mesmerized by the area. I’d been to the abandoned jade mine up between Lillooet and Braelorne, explore the ruins of Pioneer mine and so many beautiful places, but I’d been waiting for someone to do this trip with. I had 3 days during the summer where I had no where
I had to be, and for some reason, I had a couple of extra hundred dollars for gas money and trip expenses. I told the guys where I was going, and the only reply was have fun. No one had any concern about me going on my own.
Thursday night, I made sure the jeep was fully stocked and got extras of everything, picked up my first Jerry Can (had to carry it in the jeep because I haven’t gotten spare carriers for the back yet) and was ready to head out as soon as I got home Friday night. Being wise, I made sure to have enough supplies to last a week, in case something happened it likely would take a couple of days for the guys to get to me, and it wasn’t a long weekend so wasn’t sure how much traffic might stop by.
I got home on Friday night and headed out about 6, headed up to West Harrison, making the pilgrimage of stops, Mohawk for Gas, Deroche for their to die from beef jerky. Sasquatch for Cold Beer, the hatchery to air down and realize that you’re free for 3 whole days and nothing but adventure awaits you. For me, whenever I hit this spot, it’s that moment of realizing that as a woman, I live in a fortunate world. I’m supported by everyone I know in making my wheeling life happen. From the guys that help me in the shop, to helping me find deals on parts, to donating used tools and especially those on I meet on the trail who show me nothing but respect, always offer hospitality & a helping hand and build great friendships along the way.
I made my way up West Harrison, with the VHF on 146.460, and partway up, I picked up the signal of a convoy visiting from Alberta. They were going to Hale, and the call sign was VA6 TAC. I helped guide them down to Hale via the radio. It was kind of an incredible experience knowing the markers and spots off by heart. I gave them some additional areas to consider visiting, as they planned on hitting up Apex. I suggested they check out the mines and the cool cabin where the river runs through it. We managed to keep in touch on the radio until I hit the North end of Harrison; the timing worked to coincide with them getting down to Hale. I crossed through Tipella, which those buildings are worth a walk through the next time you pass by, I stopped by the a short while ago to take some pictures of the structures and the history there is quite mesmerizing when you allow yourself to get lost in it.
My first stop was nearby, Sloquette; my tried and true faithful First night soujurn. I arrived, cracked open an overdue cold beer, set up my tent in about 4 minutes, then headed down to the hot springs with a few more cold beers. I can not answer why the hot springs are home to me, but they are. I will do anything in my power to make it there on every Friday night I can. Something about sitting in the magical pools by yourself, with your head on that rock in the middle, staring up at the stars above your head on a clear night. Surrounded by the dozens of tea lights the others have left on the walls, the glow sticks hanging in the trees, the sound of the river rushing behind you. That kind of solitude is irreplaceable and brings calmness to my soul; to me, it’s like a fountain of stress relief.
I sat in the springs for a few hours, then when I felt entirely at peace and ready to doze off, I made my way back up that hill climb (which I haven’t figured out if it seems quicker or longer after soaking in the hot springs and having a few beer..lol). I sneaked myself into the tent and dozed off within about 3 minutes. It’s funny; at home in the city, I have problems falling asleep or staying asleep all night, but put me in a tent in the middle of nowhere, and I doze off instantly and never wake up until morning.
Morning called, and I quickly woke up, ate, packed up, and then headed up the road to Pemberton. I’ve always enjoyed the drive up Lillooet Lake, mainly stopping at the little cemeteries along the way. Looking at the graves and the care taken when the tombstones were placed is thought-provoking. So many little children were lost at an early age. I once swore I heard children laughing in the background while taking pictures.
I made my way into Pemberton, gassed up, filled up the Jerry can and decided it would be best to pick up yet another one to be safe. I filled them up and found a way to fit them both in the back of the Jeep. After my $100 in gas, I had to shuffle a few things and roll down the windows so I wouldn’t gas myself out. Then, I made my way up and over the Hurley Pass, which is beautiful to behold and much easier to travel through in the jeep than in my civic. I stopped along the way to take pictures of the mountains and scenery, no matter where I go, the moment I’m surrounded by the mountains and the pine trees and out of cell phone service range I feel alive. I end up catching myself giggling like a school girl and going oooohhh bug, ooooh flower.. ohhhh mountain! I must take pictures of it all! I average about 1000 pictures on every weekend trip I make..
My next stop was Pioneer Mine, located a bit beyond Braelorne. I love this mine and the town that existed along with the house of ill repute, and I can’t help but get lost in it every time I stop. The structures, the equipment, and the history of all of these locations are mesmerizing for me. I find this one intriguing because so much of it still exists, including all the houses, and it makes a great photo study. I admit I’m a bad girl, and every time I visit, I pick up a relic and bring it home for my collection. But it’s so hard not to, as I look at these items and get surrounded by the memories of fantastic trips I’ve had. I’ll cover the area in another story, as it and the jade mine deserve their own stories.
I tore myself away from Pioneer town. My next stop was Mud Lakes. And here is where the brand new adventure started for me: terrain I’d never been on, roads I’d never explored. I pulled out the Backroad map books, turned on the GPS, and told it to find me Mud Lakes. The GPS plotted me a course to it, but of course, like all good adventures, not all forks you come to are documented.
I always take the road less traveled; and it was nice to know that the roads into Mud Lakes fit right into that. The signs are worn out and battered, flowers grow in the roads, the deer look up at you in surprise when you pass by. I had no idea what to expect at Mud Lake, but I think I had in mind a muddy patch filled with bugs, what I found blew me away when I got there. I passed by the first camp site filled with the young kids that were up there, and settled into the one on the East end of the lake in the open meadow. I was blown away by the beauty that existed there. The fish doing their 5 o’clock jumps for me in the lake, barely a bug in sight, the warmth of the sun enveloping me, a slow breeze blowing the long grains of wheat in the empty meadows.
I lucked out and there was enough spare wood floating around that I didn’t have to get into the supply in the jeep, and I started a nice little campfire. It’s funny a year ago I had never started my own campfire, now it’s second nature, same as any skill you learn when taking part in a sport that you’re passion about. I quickly set up my tent, put out my appetizers of Jalapeño assiago bread with Balsamic Vinegar and Olive oil to dip, paired with a delicious glass of Malbec and for the prominent entree Ribs. I also set up the tripod, as one of my goals on this trip was to play with the 400mm lens I was lucky enough to get a deal on earlier in the year. A short while later, the fire marshal stopped by to visit and jot down a license plate, and we exchanged a few stories.
As evening set, I settled into the tent and dozed off, leaving the tripod up. The goal was to get a perfect picture of the moon. My alarm went off about 1 AM, and I made my way out of the tent, standing in the open field in only my sweatshirt, putting the camera on the tripod and standing there in awe as I tried different exposure lengths to get the perfect shot. You know those shots that you go Oh my God, that is an incredible photograph, and I’m happy with it. I got one of those; I could see the craters on the moon and the shadows, and I felt at that moment like time was standing still and that this memory would never fade. The freedom to stand there knowing you didn’t have to share this moment with anyone and feel as indulgent as a hippopotamus rolling in a mud bath.
I then settled back into the tent and dozed off with a satisfied grin, knowing that tomorrow I was going to tackle an even greater unknown road, the legends that Poison Mountain and China Head were. I woke up, had a delicious breakfast of bacon and killer hashbrowns, packed up and then headed off to the great unknown. The First road out of there let me up and over the hill, I know I spend a little too much time in low range, and likely use up a little extra gas that way, but to me it’s where I’m comfortable with and where I can keep the speed I want to take pictures.
Along this road there was this little bird, he would get out of the road I giggled as he just kept hoping down the road, I would stop and get out to take his picture and try to get him to move and he’s get out of the way long enough for me to get back into the jeep. Then he just got into the road and started hopping along it again. I reached this beautiful viewpoint where you could see Mud Lakes and the Sister Lake, and I always find these views intriguing, wondering how Mother Nature decided to split the two and not join them. After descending to the lake, I explored the meadows around it and decided that the next time I came through, I would stay here instead as it would likely be a bit more private.
Continuing on, there were many bridgeless water crossings and no confusion on what trails to take, as luckily, there were no forks in the road. I’ll never forget the hill climb out of that valley, though; it will stick in my mind as one of the most memorable hill climbs I’ve been on. No obstacles, just slow and steady first gear low range all the way to the top. I think I have a few moments of anxiety along the way, but kind of how long is this going to go? I want to stop and take pictures, but I don’t want to stop. I’d gladly do it again, though, as I caught myself giggling the whole way up thinking, “I’m really doing this; I’m challenging myself out of my comfort zone” .
When I got to the top, I parked the jeep, put the emergency brake on, got out of the Yeep and actually danced to the music on the Sirius satellite and went wahoooo!! I think the chipmunks and squirrels were slowly backing away from me, wondering, Who is this crazy girl? I looked at the sign there that talked about the different routes and wished I had an unlimited gas budget, as I wanted to take all the other routes on it. I realized then that exploring and being out doing what I love is the number one priority in my life in the ‘taking care of me’ category. Without exploring, camping and being in the great outdoors, I become a shell of a human being; it balances me. If I could be a gypsy with a working vehicle and unlimited gas budget I would walk away from everything in my life to live that every day.
The roads after this part got a bit trickier, but I had my GPS to lead me and two geocaches as goals. I did place one near the sign at the top of the hill climb and at Mud Lakes in honor of my trip. The weather at the higher elevations started changing a bit; there was rain, hail and even a few snowflakes that morning. The only thing the weather impacted was my ability to take pictures outside the Jeep. Still, again I caught myself with this ecstatic smile on my face, dancing in the jeep to the 80’s music and giggling as I went slowly through the meadows and trees and taking in every breath taking moment of what surrounded me. I eventually came to a 3 way intersection, with China Head one Way & Yalokum in the other direction. I opted for China Head, of course. This is where the roads became a bit trickier.
Between the GPS and Backroads mapbook, I only made a few wrong turns, however as I crossed through the cross ditches and was trying to pick the correct road, I thought to myself.. the road is going to look like the type of road that would appeal to a wheeler.. hmm it must be the least traveled road, so I chose the one that had the least amount of use. That was the correct one, even though others may have gotten me to the same point. It was a beautiful road through the valley. Something about the meadows in this area speaks to me, similar to the ones you find in Whipsaw and Cabin Lake. Filled with Muppet Flowers, beautiful colors, and if you turn everything else you can hear the grass drinking in the water. The butterflies land on a flower, slowly drinking in the nectar; multitudes of insects gather harmoniously on the same petals.
I slowly descended into the next valley, choosing my way through the couple of roads, missing of course the sign that said “China”, which would have been a sure give away, I crossed the bridge, made my way up through a couple of dead ends, to come back down to the bridge, see the sign and have a hand to the forehead V8 moment. I consider myself blessed. Within about 3 days of crossing through this small valley, a 700 meter landslide came down where I was driving. Had I waited until the long weekend, or even another day or so I would have either been in that landslide, or have missed my opportunity to take this route.
The drive through the valley was beautiful, the streams meandering in and out of the delicate meadows, the wildflowers, the birds, the rock faces were like spirit rocks where if you looked at them you could see faces in them and it was like all those that had gone before you had left a piece of them behind. My GPS stated I was only 5.1 km from the first cache, and I was so excited to be near this long-awaited destination. As I climbed up and made my way through to the heavens, the sights that awaited me were like none other. I’ve long thought that Whipsaw was one of the most beautiful destinations in BC, but honestly, nothing can take the place of the sights that I saw, and it forever changed me and how I view things.
At the first cache, I could have driven the jeep up to it, instead I parked at the bottom and walked up to the top. There is something in the raw feeling you get when the wind surrounds you; you can feel the chill on your skin, the rain touching your lips, the taste it makes on your tongue when it lands. Rain has a taste, something that escapes description, but when you close your eyes you can recall. It’s this dusty but strangely deliciously satisfying explosion on the taste buds. I stood there, turning myself around in circles, taking pictures to get a panorama that could show others just a smidgen of the experience. The views went on for miles and miles. I continued slowly through the trails with the jeep, indulging in photographs every moment I could, making friends with the cows grazing at the higher elevations.
As I came to the end of the views and made my way through to the remains of the forest fire that had come through a few years back, I started missing the open fields already and wanted to stay there forever. Saying that a forest fire is beautiful seems strange, but I’ve always found that driving through the haunted remains after the burn to be one of the eeriest experiences. The blackened trees were outlined in white, with the red fire retardants’ tints remaining. Randomly, one tree stands healthy and green; some trees are devoid of anything still attached, and others have charred remains of needles still attached, strangely brown instead of black. The roots of the trees are surrounded by lush green grass, mushrooms and wildflowers; like in life, if we allow ourselves to see it, there is beauty in decay and destruction at every turn.
As I descended further along the trail, the gas gauge was getting closer and closer to empty, and shortly after the section with the forest fire, the gas light came on, and it was time to pull out the Jerry can and fill it up. I turned the jeep off, filled up with the one Jerry can and enjoyed the moment (again, strangely found myself giddy and giggling), then continued on my way down the road and came out to the main FSR. The scenery quickly changed to the beauty that the Chilcotins is well known for, the vistas and sandstone, and I had to make a decision if I was going to take the Big Bar Ferry back to Lillooet or to take this side of the river.
I decided for this trip to take the Big Bar Ferry. I headed down, and the operator noticed me after a bit and came over. We had a great talk about the various trails around, Kookapi, Mud Lakes, Whipsaw and a few others, he, of course, claiming that they were all walks in the park now, and I, for the most part, agreed with him. The more use the trails get, the fewer obstacles to overcome. For me, this is a good thing. I don’t take the trips for the obstacles; I take them for the beauty, and knowing I’m less likely to have issues encourages me to do more solo trips until I can find a trail made.
I chose to take the Big Bar Road back to Lillooet and proceeded through the reserve land, and hit the 23% grade road at the end and enjoyed my long slow climb up the road at the end. This route back allowed me to witness and capture some of the most amazing terrain in BC, I love my mountains and meadows, but the sheer terrain of the Chilcotins is my favorite. I stopped after the ascent and grab a few geocaches, and to appreciate what I had around me.
I pulled out a cold water, which was refreshing for the dusty parched lips I had, relishing in the 2 days on the road, thinking where to next, I had one more night. I opted to head down to Boston Bar, fill up with gas (grab cold beer) and take my favorite alternate route of Kookapi, instead of the canyon. By the time I reached Boston Bar I was craving a cold beer, the hot dusty days had left me thirsty, what beer available in the big old town of Boston Bar? Milwaulkie! I will tell you at that point though, I think I would have been ok with Wildcat, however sadly my getting to enjoy it was to be delayed by a train on the East Side of the River, then when I got to the West side, yet another train.
After the trains cleared, I made my way up the Nahatlatch Valley to the last campsite before the Kookapi FSR and set up camp for the night. It was late by the time I got there, so a rapid, simple setup, no campfire and simple smokies for dinner before settling into the tent. I was awoken the following day by the logging trucks going back and forth, a simple pack up, and I was on the road. I swapped the VHF channel to the one used on Kookapi, as they were actively hauling and I didn’t want to meet them unexpectedly coming around a corner.
The guys were great, they were very confused as to why I was on the radio on a Monday, they asked if I was familiar with the lookout tower, I said yes I helped rebuild it, then they thought I was looking for their boss, I said no, just out for a casual drive. We had a few great chats as I crossed through their area, pulling over a few times when the trucks were passing, one guy asked if I wanted company after he passed me. I really do enjoy my solo trips, nothing can quite take their place, as I mentioned the never ending hospitality I receive on the open road never ceases to amaze me.
I finished heading home with a quick stop up at Clear Creek to get the worst of the dust off me before heading home, and it felt great, aside from the black flies. I will always prefer Sloquette over Clear Creek, why? Simple I prefer things in their natural form, but will never pass up a chance for a dip in springs. I dried off, climbed back in the Jeep and headed back down my last few KM of dirt road to get home and unpack from the trip of a life time; where I saw and experienced more in 3 days then some people do in a life time.
I’m truly blessed to get to live this life, travel this way as often as I do, and be supported by those in my life that help me make it happen. Thank you to all of you that do that, without you I wouldn’t have the courage to be a solo female wheeler.
Trix's Trax 