24. August 2009 - End of a BC Odyssee

Driving towards Horseshoe Bay from Whistler along the Sea to Sky Highway, one realizes why BC has 'Beautiful' even on the car license plates. Almost every turn in the road opens up a new awe inspiring view.

Tantalus Range south of Pemberton

Glaciers in the Tantalus Range, as close to Sky as one can get

Descend to the Sea, namely Howe Sound just beyond Squamish

Ferry ride home to Vancouver Island from Horseshoe Bay


A little warm breeze on the sun deck of the ferry 'Queen of Oakbay' blew this girl's hair into a halo

Leaving Howe Sound and the Coastal Ranges in the wake of the ferry.

******
Back on the drive from Lilloet via Pemberton and Whistler, a few more BC impressions....

Beside the museum in Lilloet are a few 'oldies', such as this jail.

A man in a scooter stopped beside me. He was ancient, had only a few worn down stumps for teeth, scabbed skin, and a wonderful smile and sparkling eyes.

He asked, 'Are you interested in the history of these things?'

Of course I answered 'Yes'.

He explained the jail in his pre-politicallycorrect-era words, 'This jail stood just a few hundred yards away beside the road house. They used to have rodeos for everyone living here during the gold rush. The Indians (sic) would get drunk and start to fight amongst each other. The cops would put 25 or 30 of them into this jail, so they were standing up in there, packed so tight they could not fight anymore. Then they would put water hoses on them to cool them down.

Nairn Falls, on Highway 99 near Pemberton

Nairn Falls Provincial Park, beautifully located just below the falls in a pristine wilderness. So pristine in fact, the black bears shared the camp sites with the campers. I decided against camping, inspite of the beautiful location and the even better weather. However, I did not feel that my kitchen knife would bolster up my bear fighting/avoiding confidence sufficiently to sleep in a flimsy little tent.

Lower Joffre Lake in the Provincial Park of the same name. Middle and Upper Joffre Lake are in back country short (5-10km) hiking distance. Upper Lake is situated at the base of a huge glacier in the top of the photo. Unfortunately sunlight was so bright, that the little camera could not capture the majestic backdrop.

Seton Lake, near Lilloet

Well, there has to be a bear in every BC journey. Here was mine, a little fellow, not even a year old, his ears longer than his whole face.

I could not see his mom, but the bushes behind this little cub were shaking as if moved by a localized storm....mother foraging for berries in the background.

I was not going to leave the car to check things out.

Memorial to a Forestfire Fighter - Lillooet BC - 23.8.2009

A firefighter, helicopter pilot, died whilst battling one of the major fires in Central BC, the Kelly Creek Fire. He tried to scoop water from the Fraser River with a bucket suspended from the belly of his helicopter. Something went wrong - maybe effect of river current or a gust of wind - and the helicopter crashed. His friend, flying a helicopter next to him, lowered his bucket into the river to provide an escape route for the downed victim, who managed to crawl out of the crashed helicopter. But, the current was too swift, and the pilot was swept to death. His body remained unrecovered for several days.
However, search efforts finally resulted in finding him near the Highway 99 bridge in Lillooet.
The bridge was closed for an hour on the afternoon of the 23. August 2009, to conduct a memorial service in Robert Woodhouse's memory. I happened to be one of the cars stopped at the east side of the bridge. Knowing the history of this event, I parked the car and joined the hundreds of people gathered on the bridge to bid their last farewell and thank you to a brave man, who gave his life doing his duty.


Members of the Lillooet Fire Brigade

Representatives of the RCMP and the local Tribal Police Force

Elder of the local First Nation

Hand Drummers of the local First Nation performing a Farewell Song

Firefighters aiming arcs of water over the river, where the body was discovered

First Nations hand drummer

One of the fire fighting helicopters, who performed a fly-over, with a waterbucket suspended from its fuselage. This is the kind of helicopter that had crashed.

Everyone, even the children brought flowers to toss into the river after the ceremony

Fire Fighters paying tribute to one of their comrades

Roads into the firezone at Kelly Creek were open again, however extreme caution in transit was advised


Smoke hanging over the mountains surrounding Lillooet

23. August 2009 - Roads less Travelled

Heading south on my drive back home, I drove from Bridge Lake to Kamloops via Little Fort. En route I passed through Barriere, the location of a distastrous forest fire a few years ago, where thousends of hectares of forest and at least 40 houses were destroyed. The landscape still looks like a vast expanse of blackened trunks.

After Kamloops I took Highway 5A south to Merrit through the Upper Nicola Valley - immensely wide, quite arid on the hills. But there are many green hay fields at the valley floor, thanks to wide-ranging irrigation. Here is Lac Le Jeune en route. Quite a few large white swans were resting along the shore - too distant to capture on camera without a really good telephoto lens.

Quilchena, in the Upper Nicola Valley, is a quaint settlement with many historic buildings. Here is the 'Banker's House' - rather modest for a 'rich' man.

Form Merrit I headed northwest again on Highway 8 (more like a paved winding country road) through the Lower Nicola Valley, through mostly desert landscape and areas of thin pine forests, towards Spences Bridge. Quite a few 'hoodoo' formations along the sides of the valley.

At Spences Bridge I crossed the Thompson River, where a bunch of white water rafters were getting lined up for a bit of excitement - the river became a little more foamy white, with standing waves a couple of miles down stream. I rather drove...headed south to Lytton along Highway 1.

After Lytton I headed northwest again towards Lilloet on an absolutely fabulous stretch of road: Highway 12. It snakes its way along the towering Lilloet Range, with Skihit Mountain at 2944m, Stein Mountain at 2774, and Brew Mountain at 2265 rising almost vertically to the south of the road. Spectacular scenery!

Here I met two different families of Bighorn Sheep, and a whole collection of deer. There was hardly any traffic, and very little human habitation....it must be one of the most pristine valleys in that part of British Columbia. The Stein Valley, which penetrates into the Lilloet Range, is said to be one of the most beautiful hiking and mountain trecking areas in BC. And serious high altitude climbers can certainly find a few challenges here.

Photos of the Latest 'Events"

Back on the road again....Garry, the mechanic removed the old alternator, wich was stuffed with dead bees, and put in a new one. Took him two hours of labour...an the 'wrong' replacement alternator turned out to fit after all.

It could have happened here - stuck in the backwoods where the bears kiss the coyotes Good Night.

Instead - I broke down here along a real highway, 15km from a real town, and within real cell phone coverage

Wildlife at home - Lacey hiding under the deck

Wildlife at home - Luke on the rocks

Wildlife at home - GiGi in the garden

Catching Wildlife near 100 Mile House - gartersnake

108 Mile House, scene of poisonings, shootings, robbery, capturing and selling of women, and hiding caches of the Yellow Stuff - yet to be found again

Cottonwood wildlife - gopher

Cruising during the Gold Rush years

Cruise Wear of the Gold Rush years, as displayed in 108 Mile House

Cottonwood House historic farm and road house - herding sheep into their pen

Cottonwood Wildlife.

Cottonwood - the main residence

Lake near Wells, now half the size than the original. One end of it has been filled by gravelly tailings from gold mining.

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.

17. and 18. August 2009 Exploring in the Thompson,Cariboo and Chilcotin

I drove north towards one of the largest and most pristine parks in BC, if not Canada: the Wells Gray Provincial Park in the Thompson Region. It harbours 540,000 hectares of towering mountains, cavernous gorges, alpine meadows, moss covered cedars, and spectacular waterfalls.

Helmken Falls, one in a series of dramatic waterfalls of the same river which joins the Thompson River a few thousand feet further down. These Falls are three times as high as Niagara Falls.

Dawson Falls, a perfectly symmetrical waterfall in Wells Gray.

Spahat Falls in Wells Gray
White water rafting anyone?

I headed south again, back towards Clearwater...Wells Gray Park appeared as of now unaffected by the ravages of the mountain pine beetle, it may just be a matter of time, before it succumbs as well. In the meantime it remains lush, verdant, healthy ad gloriously green.

Outside of the Park this blight has destroyed thousands and thousands of hectares of pine forests. The destruction progresses from a 'green' stage, where the bug starts to invade the tree and cuts the water supply off. Then the tree enters a 'grey' stage, where the dying process has started in earnest. Finally the trees turn a brownish black, the trunks are blotchy, and just a sad skeleton is left behind. Billions of upright tree carcasses cover the mountains.

The beetles use wind to spread further and further, nothing but extreme frost for a lengthy period of time could kill them.

The dead trees are being harvested in many places, nothing much else one could do. The logging industry uses them for OSB (orientated strand board) manufacture.

Lac La Roche - calm and covered in water lilies.

I drove on to Little Fort, where a small ferry crosses the Thompson River to connect a First Nation Reserve as well as a number of farms with civilization. CN railway workers use it also to get across to the rail tracks for maintenance work.

In summer, when the river currents have abated, the ferry man uses an outboard motor and a 2x6 board to position the ferry against the ramps on the river bank. It is connected to a number of overhead cables upstream, which keep it from getting swept away.

The ferry man, with the best mustache in all of Little Fort. He said, though, that "I have not seen the other ones in town - population 200".

He said;"When the current is high, I can just position the ferry with the 2x6 against the ramps, don't ever use the outboard."

"Do you transport cattle as well," I asked him.

"Yes," he said, "we do that in trucks now. We used to just herd them onto the ferry and close the gate. But one day, something spooked a load of cows, they all ran to one side, the ferry tipped and sank. Since then we take them on trucks."


Biffy Art ...

On Tuesday, I headed north via Williams Lake and Quesnel to Wells and Barkerville, both historic gold mining towns. Wells actually still has active commercial goldpanning going on.

A little quote from the days of the Cariboo Goldrush. At todays prices per ounce, this little plate full would fetch quite a bundle.

Barkerville is today a living museum town. The old buildings have been restored, some stores rekindling the goldrush spirit are open, no longer selling flour, jerky, and gold panning supplies, but coffees, snacks, souvenirs, and waggon rides. The old theatre presents vaudeville, and the 'villagers' wear period costume. There is a church, a postoffice, a historic hotel (open for 21st century business in a 19th century setting), a saloon, and a 'China town'.

All of the buildings maintain their historic character, even as far as furnishing is concerned, and many house mini museums showcasing bygone lifestyles, gold prospecting, and historic transportation means. Barkerville is 'at the end of the road' and access for a long time was by ox-carts.

Today, the main drag is still edged on both sides by board walks (the creek would overflow in spring an turn the village streets into rivers of mud). Stagecoaches, drawn by heavy horses, take visitors through the hard packed dirt streets of Barkerville.

An old log cabin beside a gravel shute

Waggon wheels amongst wildflowers

Mr Barker of Barkerville. He used to be a canal man in Britain before coming out to Canada to find his El Dorado. And he struck it rich in Barkerville, sold his claim for a fortune and lived in style in Victoria for a while. He died in poverty....one reason was a young wife, who spent copius amounts of his wealth before she died in 1865, the other was his legendary generosity. He used to 'loan' money to down and out gold panners, and never asked for his loans to be returned.

Barkerville log cabin in a summer garden setting.

I drove back to Wells, just a few kilometers back from Barkerville. It is a real town, however, some of the historic buildings are still in use, and some are being lovingly restored.

Wells historic building - under restauration

Wells - porch of a little gift store

Wells, another little store that sells souvenirs, crafts and tours to the active goldmine in town.

Cemetry between Barkerville and Wells....many ancient gold digger found his last resting place right here.

And back on lovely Sheridan Lake....

with a final rush......click on the icon and hear nature....