Kristina Wheeler
Words by Kristina Wheeler
It was 5 o’clock somewhere. For many that means it’s time to call it a day. For us, it meant it was time to hit the trail. For me, it was time to lead those that were putting their lives into my hands on a never-to be-forgotten adventure. Running solo, I knew how to do well, but leading a group on a multi-day adventure not so well. This time it would be six trucks running a few hundred kilometers of dirt roads, a run that I’d done solo many times and knew how long it took.
Lesson #1.
When you travel long distances with a group add about 20 percent travel time for each added vehicle.
We made it to the Hatchery to air down before sunset and worked out the plan for the night – hit the West Harrison hard to make the most of time, get into Skookumchuck by midnight, lay claim to the campsite that Travis had set aside for us and get an amazing soak floating under the stars. I took the lead on that dry August night, mesmerized by beauty that lay around me, and away from the light pollution. As I was the lead, I was able to see every star clearly.
We managed to stay a solid convoy up to Tipella and we hit it about midnight. However, I failed to calculate the waiting for the vehicle behind you to check in and the safe-dust-distance in our arrival time. We headed down the Lillooet FSR, hoping to pick up a bit of speed.
Kristina Wheeler
Camping in Sloqutte. Just one our stop overs during our trip.
Lesson #2.
Always make sure the tail gunner has a radio that you can communicate with.
We wouldn’t hit the turn off to Skookumchuck until about 1:30 AM. I’d seen the turn off and took it, waiting for the other trucks behind me to turn in. I saw them on the road above pause and assumed they’d seen my lights and were turning off. Alas nope. None of them were familiar with where the turn off was. Somehow, even though I saw their headlights, and they had come to a full stop, they didn’t see me and continued down the road for about another 20 minutes until coming back. I’d tried to reach Shaun on his radio, but he couldn’t pick me up on the handheld unit. At one point, they finally turned around and headed back. I was waiting for them.
Finally, at about 2 am we got into camp and a few of us wandered off to the tubs. I think it was about 3:30 and the others had left to try to get some sleep before I dragged them into another crazy unforgettable day of adventure. As I laid back floating in the tub, I stared at the prefect summer night making a wish on every falling star. Time stands still and comes to perfect halt in those moments. Imbedding in your memory the texture, tastes and sounds of perfection and you know that you are the only person on this planet that is getting to steal that part of the world for your soul. You don’t have to share with anyone else, it’s yours and no one can take it from you.
Kristina Wheeler
The washboard roads in Hurley.
Lesson #3.
Remember most people actually eat in camp and require coffee to function on only four hours sleep. Also, do not live on fruit. As the saying goes, you are what you eat!
We headed out under the perfect August Sun, making good time in the daylight up to Pemberton. Shaun stopped a few times to get some footage and I found a random pair of jeans laying on the side of the road wondering, “what’s its story?”
After gathering up the necessary gas, food and other supplies, I was reminded that it feels a bit like herding trucks to get everyone to the same place and ready to go. Meanwhile, I’m getting antsy going why am I still on a paved road?
We got to the base of the Hurley, soon to experience its washboard roads that turned the trucks into musical instruments. The wheeler’s soul will always pay the price for the vistas and beauty the back roads can bring us. The mountainscapes surrounded us and slowly exposed their true souls in colours so vivid they feel surreal. Part of the appeal of the sub alpine trails is that they don’t feel real and it’s like you are time-travelling and landed in some alternate universe. The trees stunted in growth, the sparsity, the way you can see the layers of the earth and how they formed over millions of years.
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Kristina Wheeler
Dynamite remains in Goldbridge.
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Mansions of Old can be found throughout Goldbridge.
We arrived in Goldbridge, slipped by an old car that lay on the side of the road and the abandoned homes that most overland explorers know so well. Pulling into the Pioneer Mine, which holds a piece of my soul, the others experienced its power for the first time. Shaun, excited by the old dynamite structure, quickly scrambled up into where normally only the packrats play; others carefully picked their way through the remains that looked like they exploded.
On the way out we took a slight detour and headed to the upper part of Pioneer Town to explore the remains of the larger structure that remains. There are several rumours about what it was. However, one of the times I was there I spoke with a gentleman who had grown up in the house across from it. In his opinion it wasn’t an old brothel and that I must respect as he would know better than anyone I’ve spoken to.
Pioneer Mine is one of those sacred places in the wheeling world where the lessons of yesteryear collide with todays’ world. I whispered safe travels to the guardians that protect the remains thanking them for sharing it with me. The day was starting to slip away and we needed to get to our next base camp at Mud Lakes before dark. For some reason, the road there is one that has etched its way into my memory and I know it like the back of my hand. I once walked someone ahead of me through it by radio from a distance.
Lesson #4
There are wild animals out there…. not just humans.
We found our second campsite in an open grassy area and set up our tents, settling into a campfire and listening to a few stories. Knowing the beauty that the next day would bring, I feel asleep in my tent to the silence of the rhythm of the cicada’s and fish jumping.
Waking up the next morning to the sound of rustling outside the tent, having that half-asleep moment of ‘oh god is it a bear?’ ‘Is this finally the time I need to deal with this?’ Knowing Adrian was still asleep in the tent beside me and his dog was with him that it wasn’t be that bad. I took a peak out of the tent to be greeted by a rather less ferocious beast calmingly eating grass looking rather perturbed that I wanted to take its picture so early in the morning.
Kristina Wheeler
A ferocious beast that was spotted during the trip.
The smell of bacon and coffee on the communal morning grill hitting the air got everyone moving and packed up as the herd of turtles passed by. As we hit the road, everyone became more excited that we were moving our way closer to peak of the legendary Poison Mountain. We left Mud Lakes and slowly traversed our way to the crest that bridges the distance to Swartz Lake. I have always loved this spot. When I look down at the two lakes it hits me that I’m finally home again where I belong. Where I’ve left civilization and returned to my roots that bring me peace. It’s these moments that ground my soul and cleanses it as if I’ve gone to confessional.
Kristina Wheeler
The alluring scent of bacon greeted us in the morning.
We passed Swartz lake, and much like Jack and Jill, we all went up the very rutted off camber switch back hill. For many the novice driver, as I remember from my first solo run up it in 2013. It is a challenge in the mental state of ‘Oh God I’m really doing this.’ Reaching the top of the hill, stopping under the epic sign that is etched in the memory of every wheeler that has passed it, we celebrated that I made it. I once descended that hill in a Unimog, which puts a different perspective on it as you sway back and forth moving trees out of the way.
Everyone enjoyed reaching the new point as we talked about the different routes that could be reached going out the other way. However, our journey was the road to the right, which would take us to the serene three-way intersection and our Lesson #5 at the top of Poison is When Brake Lines Go Bad and Tires Die.
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My lovely 4x4 Humps.
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An epic sign while on the back roads.
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Cresting the ridge.