CLUB: LESSONS IN GROUP WHEELING: PART 2
An overlanding BC adventure continues from Poison Mountain down to Gold Bridge through to Lillooet and Bralorne.
A fter enjoying so many overlanding trips solo, leading a group on a multiday adventure along the rugged, isolated back country roads of BC is a different type of overlanding experience altogether. This time I was the lead of six trucks traveling along a few hundred kilometers of winding trails and we were on day three of our adventure, standing under the epic sign that points to Gold Bridge, Lillooet and Bralorne.
Lesson #5 When Brake Lines Go Bad
We arrived in the meadow with the three signs that let you choose to either return to Mud Lakes, veer towards Yalakom or head to Poison Mountain. We meandered down the well-traveled pathway to Poison until the trail diverged into the soughtafter branch in the road. As a group, we slowly ascended the very steep slope to the top of Poison Mountain and reached an elevation that left those who hadn’t been here before speechless at the majestic vista. At the apex of the mountain range, your soul sees the isolated beauty of BC with very limited signs of any human presence.
Parked at the top of Poison Mountain, a majestic elevation of 2,264 m (7,428 ft), is a very risky location to have a breakdown. Coming up the hill, Shaun had noticed his truck was acting odd and decided to check his brake lines. After a close inspection, he realized his rear brake line wasn’t functioning and there was no way it would help control his descent.
Jody stepped in, as he always lends a hand for others on trail runs, and in the very brisk, chilling-to-the-bone wind, he found a solution to allow a safe descent. We then used tow straps to attach Shaun’s Jeep to the front of Tony’s truck for safe measure.
Lesson #6 – When Flats Develop in the Not-So-Flat-Land
I sat at the top of the hill as I watched Shaun and Tony descend safely and then brought up the rear. Once we all made it to the bottom, I realized the Jeep seemed a little unsymmetrical and checked the tires. Somewhere along this very well-loved trail, the tire had decided that it wanted to ride on the rear carrier for a better view.
I called ahead to the guys and after some harassment about being “the damsel in distress” they came back and quickly swapped out the tire for me.
Lesson #7 – It May not be a Bear that Ends my Wheeling Life
After continuing to ramble down the trails and enjoying the vistas of alpine foliage with the stunted growth (that always reminds me of a grove of Bonsai trees), we reached the legendary sign marked “China,” which would show us where to embark on the journey to God’s land. The last time I’d been through here was about 48 hours before the 2013 slide that took out a few hundred meters of the mountainside. As we drove around the detour, I witnessed the enormity of what could have landed on me.
We reached the bluffs that give China Head its legendary status with incredible views every direction. There is no sign of life, just bare grassland, and it’s hard to believe that Mother Nature can even survive the exposure to the elements in this region.
In an area like this, your mind balances between a soulful peace and self-acceptance, and the terror of being alone in a desolate land.
We enjoyed a few of the more spectacular vistas but with dinner upon us, it was time to set up camp. Several of the others suggested that camping in the open air under the stars would be the perfect end to a perfect day. However, in the back of my mind was the possibility of stronger than expected winds and foul weather.
Lesson #8 – Old Cowboys are Never Far Away
Rather than turning into human glaciers, we kept going until we were past the tree line and found a quiet campsite that would comfortably fit the trucks, giving everyone a bit of space. The guys wanted a fire and as there was no ban at the time, a small one was made for everyone to sit around and share a few trail stories.
Waking up the next morning, under the perfectly blue stratosphere, our journey continued towards Lillooet. Driving through the grasslands, we decided to visit with a colossal bull
that was being very vocal in his attempts at serenading a mate. Those bellows he was making went well beyond the traditional mooing one expects. I traipsed around finding a rather unique discarded pelvic bone from the last hunting season, which Adrian decided to use as a new hood ornament.
My heart yearned to visit the
Big Bar Ferry. Alas, it was time to head south as our days were up. We headed along the west side of the river into Lillooet, stopping at the observation area, allowing us to capture a few images of those who were indigenous to the area. It was time to part ways with most of the group, however Shaun and I had another day before we needed to touch pavement.
The extra time provided a wonderful opportunity to take a very slow trip along the west side of the canyon to the Lytton Ferry, stopping along the way to explore the abandoned structures. Of course, there was the obligatory visit to the fascinating group of mountain goats that always seem to show up around 5 pm along the route. The last gas up and ice cream was at hand before we made our way towards Nahatlatch to camp at the old ranger’s cabin and enjoy its beautiful outdoor tub.
Knowing the glaciers provide a mesmerizing view of time frozen, we opted to take Kookapi back home the next morning. With one final dirt road stop half way home, we sat in silence alongside the pools that have been etched into the stone from the sheer force of water through the millennia. We entered Harrison Hot Springs to air up and sadly realized a need to return to the world of paved roads until our next journey.
A return trip to the cabin is on my bucket list – perhaps in January when I can possibly have the area to myself. Then, fill up the tank, start a fire in the bottom and let the water run into the tub. I truly can’t imagine anything more intimate and life fulfilling than soaking in a tub full of piping hot water, the mist coming off the lake, listening to the loons and having it all to yourself.