20. August 2009 - BC exploration interrupted

Yesterday 'history day', backtracking the route from Barkerville and Wells.
Cottonwood House, a historic farm and road house built during the Cariboo gold rush, has also been restored to it's former state. The mainbuidling, constructed of huge logs, is quite stately and elegant, the outbuildings conjure up images of a prosperous business, solid, generously laid out, a marvel of industrial strength construction of yore.
Today the complex is surrounded by grassy grounds, some cedar-fenced fields, and a few discreetly placed 'rustic cabins' ($30 per night, bring your own bedding) for overnight guests, tie ups and hay for visiting horses. Sheep, cows, chickens, and rabbits populate the tidy paddocks. A cosy eatery offers not only country fare, but log walls covered with historic artifacts, photos, genuine documents, accounts and journals about the long family history of the owners, as well as lots of gold mining lore.
Passed again through Quesnel: big saw mill, lots of big box/name stores, restaurants, motels, car dealerships - an 'almost northern' outpost with all amenities.
Had to remember, though, that BC and the Yukon above it stretch on for an awful lot further, before one could dip ones toes into the Arctic Ocean.
Passed through Williams Lake, another large hub, where highway 20 provides the only quite 'adventurous' connection to Bella Coola on the Pacific Coast - almost 500km of mostly paved wilderness driving. Just now one of the passes at #20 is only open between 8am and 6pm - forest fires.
Then 108 Mile House, built in 1860, another one of the many rest stops on the old Cariboo Wagon Road. Good grazing, so the strings pf packmules could stopover here.
108 Mile house was one of the 'cheaper' mule-tels of that time, famous for cheap girls and liquor, and later for an unbelievable number of murders committed there.
In 1875, Agnus and Jim McVee - fleeing from justice for murder etc in Scotland - and Al Riley owned the place. Agnus, the wife, captured and sold girls either by the hour or as gold miners wives. She actually chained them up until a buyer showed up. Uncooperative ones were killed and incinerated - their bones, teeth and ashes were found later. This team also preyed on miners, travelling alone, who were either poisened or shot, then dumped in a lake or otherwise disposed of. The gold thus gained by this grisly family, was buried around the property. Some caches actually have been found during airport and modern house construction.
By some mixup, hubby erroneously killed a 'loaded miner' which wifey had selected for a little affair. So she poisened hubby in turn. She was found out almost immediatly, and poisened herself when incarcerated by the Mounties. Then Al - the remaining family member - was put to trial (49 male bodies and skeletons were found, uncounted girls had perished, none were identified) and hanged around 1895 in Kamloops.
So that was enough history for one day.
Today, Thursday, I toured the backcountry, just a little jaunt of 175 km or so to Mahood Lake, on allegedly 'good' gravel roads. Scenic, hot, cloudless, slow and pleasant with a hike and stop at the impressive shute of Mahood Falls and the vast panorama around Mahood Lake...perfect picnic with a vista to die for.
Then back to 100 Mile House (these ARE real location names, coinciding with the old reststops) and direction home.
On the last kilometer to HWY 24 junction, the radio quit, then the instruments quit, then everything electrical quit.
Made the turn onto highway 24, the home stretch to my friend's house another 36 km away, and switched off the car: I'll try the computer re-boot routine,
I turned the starter key - silence, not even the slightest growl, no indicators, no electric windows - stone dead.
Got out to think...at least the cell phone had reception - welcome surprise, as it is also dead 99% of the time between rare pockets of 'worth-while' civilization. Nothing but rolling hills around except an incongruous RV dealer across the road junction.
A huge RV rig trailing a car was parked close behind me as well. Shirtless driver comes up to me and asked smilingly, whether I could move ahead, so he could drive out - as he could not back up with that appendix behind him.
'Sure' I said,'but my car is dead.'
'Lets push it out of the way a little', he suggested.
'I try starting it just for luck, then we push it' I said.
Got in, turned the key, car starts up.
'Fixed', the RV man said. And I rolled off towards home.
Instruments still dead, but car running nicely...for about a kilometer.
Then it lost all forward momentum, I steered on the shoulder (there was one) and the motor died again.
Lucky me - only a kilometer from the last cell phone reception...and it still worked.
Got out, flasher dead, too, everything dead. Raised hood, trunk...
My RV buddy from the corner draws up behind me, 'Still trouble? Got BCAA Road side assistance?'
Yes to both.
Nothing much he could do, off he roars, and I am left on a hot deserted 'highway' dialing Road Assistance. My lucky day - it happened here and not miles out in nomansland where I spent the last few hours and days. Not that this was exactly close to anything either...
That done, I plonked my campchair on the shoulder gravel, put on a cap, and baked in the heat. Someone stopped, asking if I were ok. Yes. They drove off, came back a few minutes later, and asked if I needed water. My goodness, a real samaritan.
Tow-man turns up, car starts again, and he drives it up the truckbed. I was not going to risk another fade out...
Tow-man knows my friend here - everyone in the area knows her. So I get the luxury treatment: drive me and car to 100 Mile House to Gerry, the mechanic, hold open doors, drive me to a rent a car (none available) phone around, drive me to Ford dealer (maybe a van), wait at Fort dealer (we don't have a car) negotiate with dealer (now they had one SUV left) - handshake...and he is off.
At Gerry's, he DROVE the car off the tow truck - but it died again in the work bay. Gerry was going to scan it.
I drive rented SUV to friend's house. 4pm, sky black and red with a blanket of smoke, sun gone, eerie night in the afternoon. Another forest fire somewhat closer must have flared up.
Later at my friend's house...Gerry phones 'Your alternator is shot, you need a new one. I'll have one in the morning, but not the right one, maybe I can make it fit. If not...then I have to find a right one...don't know where yet.... I offer you 50 bucks for the car..75 if you throw in the camping gear'
Oh my, one suffers such indignities...
Trip Interruption until further notice - sky still smoke dark.