Naomi Tweddle
Naomi Tweddle and friends take to British Columbia’s logging roads to de-stress after a long week at work. Some of it even goes according to plan…
This month: Snow, scorching desert conditions, quicksand, forests and errant HGVS. Twedders finds there can’t be many places that offer the everchanging landscape and life-affirming riding of British Columbia.
‘For every inch of ground we make up the bike sinks deeper, until one wheel disappears from sight’
The dark clouds on the horizon are getting close as I scan the faces of my riding companions. And what I see is exhaustion and frustration. The air is comfortable and the daylight is plentiful as we near the summer solstice, however we are lost. The paper maps and the GPS are not in agreement and the trail we are searching for is nowhere to be seen. We are resorting to reading the terrain and comparing it with the topographic maps. However, despite our practical navigation techniques every path we try leads in the wrong direction, or to a dead end… As we consider options one of our Yamaha WR250RS remains badly stuck in the mud or quicksand, we can’t quite tell which. What we do know is that none of us wants to give up. We reach a group consensus and decide to head back to the last known intersection and restart our search for the trail. First things first though, the buried Yamaha needs releasing. There are three of us in the riding party, and a complete team effort is required to unstick the WR. One person operates the throttle and slips the clutch while the other two push from the rear. For every inch of ground we make up the bike sinks deeper, until one wheel disappears from sight completely. We abandon all hope of staying clean and continue to push, pull and drag the Yamaha onto solid ground. When, eventually, we force it free we’ve lost an hour and most of our energy is sapped. British Columbia, Canada is about wide open spaces and the Cariboo-chilcotin region, one of my favourite places to ride, is just three hours from the bustle of Vancouver. When you have just a few days to escape this place offers a range of riding experiences from mountain landscapes to dry canyon grasslands. It feels exotic, but we are only a day’s ride from home…
Our plan from the outset is to reach Gang Ranch and then find a back way to our Gold Bridge start point, basically a sort of loop. Supplies are strapped to bikes and we hit the road not knowing where we will end up by the end of the day. Which is such a great feeling. As the sense of freedom soaks in and the hectic paved route between Vancouver and Whistler is left behind we hit the dusty old forestry roads that once serviced this bustling mining region. We are now getting close to Gold Bridge and our gateway to the back roads. Scenic mountain views gather on the horizon and crisp mountain air starts to fill our lungs. The riding varies between narrow rocky unmaintained dirt roads and wide, smooth dirt highways. It’s glorious. The Highline road that runs between D’arcy and Seton Portage is exhilarating. It sits high above a crystal blue lake and carves its way through the valley along a steep mountain edge. On the low side lies a significant drop-off to the lake, but it’s worth it for the amazing lake and mountain views. Throw in sections of tricky riding and what you have is the perfect mix to distract from every day life. Heading north, by way of the rural community of Moha, on the Yalakom road we encounter fresh rivers and characteristic British Columbian wildlife in the furry form of a mother black bear and her cub. We stop and enjoy watching them from a safe distance for as long as we can. But they quickly drop out of sight – they probably don’t appreciate our 250cc motorcycles disturbing their peace. As we follow the trail to the summit we find ourselves on a seemingly endless uphill drag. And it isn’t until we reach the top that I catch my breath and fully appreciate the size of the climb. On the way up all our concentration is on picking lines and avoiding the large loose rocks and branches. It’s great fun because it demands total focus. But the view is worth it – mountain peaks stretch off into the distance and the air is still and full with silence. And we are the only ones up here. We even encounter some snowed-in sections of road at the higher elevations before descending down into the valley and looking for a place to camp for the night. For the most part the snow is limited to manageable patches in shaded areas, it is only at the very top that we have to consider some serious re-routing and ploughing to make it through the deep snow. Next morning we wipe the frost from our bikes’ seats and set about making hot tea. A nearby mountain fed creek provides the icy fresh water. Rugged terrain is in abundance as we make our way down to the Big Bar cable ferry. We stop to appreciate the dry landscapes that lay before us. The terrain changes so suddenly – one minute you are riding in the typical British Columbian forest and
then suddenly you burst out to views of dry slopes and canyon lands. The ride down to the ferry is really fun, it’s quite steep and twisty and the air is filled with the sweet smell of sagebrush. It’s amazing how much elevation you can drop in such a short amount of time. The people who live their lives in this hot and remote place certainly have my respect. The ferry ride is a bit of an adventure too. It’s a reaction ferry which means it uses the Fraser River’s strong currents to navigate the crossing. It’s an on-demand type of service – you wave at the ferry operator from the opposite bank and he comes over to get you. The crossing takes ten minutes. The ferry captain is friendly and happy to talk about the area. We learn that the likelihood of us finding gas in Jesmond, the nearest town shown on our map, is slim to none and that there are plenty more trails to explore on this side of the bank. He also tells us that in the middle of summer the daytime temperatures can reach over 45 degrees Celsius, his short sleeves and dark tan back up his claim. We thank him for the local knowledge and continue. This side of the Fraser the terrain is noticeably different. The roads are made up of hard packed sand and the trees are much more sparse. Sagebrush is thick on both sides of the road. Out into the open and we turn onto one of my favourite roads of the trip. From Canoe Creek to Dog Creek is all beautiful curves and engaging grade changes and since this region is not heavily populated, for the most part, we have the road to ourselves. It’s almost meditative as the endless curves flow together and my riding sharpens. A small one pump gas station waits in Dog Creek and because this region is so much about remote riding we take every opportunity to fill up with fuel. A couple of men are fixing a car a few metres from the pump, a woman behind the counter inside happily takes our credit cards, and we’re happy to hand them over as all our bikes were near empty. With gas in our Yamahas we aim once again for Gang Ranch. Re-crossing the Fraser River this time using a cute little suspension bridge constructed from
‘The power of a wild campsite next to a clear, fresh river to regenerate energy and spirit cannot be underestimated’
wire and steel we pause to admire the dry grassland benches that rise up on either side of the river. The ride into Gang Ranch, marked by a sign at the entrance proudly declaring ‘since 1865’, is characterized by cows wandering at the side of the road and more dry dusty terrain. To be honest there isn’t much going on in Gang Ranch, but it’s not really a town at all, instead it’s actually the second largest ranch in Canada. We are now at the most northerly point of our looping ride and adjusting our course for the ride south. Industrial activity increases as we get close to Williams Lake, an economic hub of forestry activity in central British Columbia. As we ride through the heavily logged landscapes logging trucks throwing up huge dust clouds pass us on the road. We can’t wait to find another back road. However, most of the back roads in this area exist because of logging so there’s still a compromise. Pretty soon we are off the more well used routes and find ourselves lost in a maze of deactivated logging roads, navigating massive logs piled three or four high, and deep trenches dug out by excavators. But with the right amount of energy and enthusiasm anything is possible. Road blocks installed by the forestry companies? No problem for our little Yamahas. They even seem fun the first few times we encounter them. However, this is the point at which one of our number gets stuck and the paper maps and GPS begin to disagree about our route back to Gold Bridge. So we push and we pull. We get covered in mud and we finally get the WR free… The power of a wild campsite next to a clear, fresh river to regenerate energy and spirit cannot be underestimated. Canada’s wilderness offers many opportunities such as this and we take full advantage to recharge batteries and de-stress: looking back at our GPS tracks later we discover that while we were stuck and lost we were actually less than one kilometer away from connecting with the road we needed. Then again everything looks easier at home on the computer than it does when you are out in the wilderness. We tend to measure the success of a weekend adventure getaway by the amount of dirt on our bikes and faces, the epic roads we’ve ridden and the occasional mishap we’ve overcome. These are the things we find ourselves discussing over the fire at the end of the riding day, and for many evenings to come. No matter what you ride, or where you ride, there is an adventure to be found. In British Columbia there are roads waiting to be explored and adventure bikes are the best way to get there. Freedom on two wheels.