Bowron Lakes part 1

The last few weeks had been mostly about park and play surfing on the local playwave until the level dropped recently, so it was quite a change to think about a long kayak tour. But Matt and I had been planning the trip for weeks, and I'd slowly been accumulating camp stuff and other items which I figured would make my life easier. A week before we were due to leave we had a meeting which I think was more designed to ensure that I wasn't just going to turn up with my kayak and a toothbrush, Matt went through his kayak camping checklist but unusually for me, I'd had my own checklist on the go for several weeks. I was, pretty much, as prepared as I'd ever been for anything.

We decided to head down to Bowron Lakes Provincial Park on Sunday evening and camp in the main campground, then head out on the lakes first thing Monday morning. Sunday night passed slowly and I don't think I slept, just lay in my sleeping bag listening to forest sounds and wondering what they could be. In particular there was a thumping noise that sounded like a single-cylinder bike being started, I assumed it was some inconsiderate camper starting a powerplant for their RV, but Matt mentioned it was some sort of Grouse trying to attract a mate. Evidently he was somewhat less than irresistible as the noise went on into the early hours.

Next morning we got up and packed up camp to head over for the mandatory Provincial Park orientation at 9am. Full of oatmeal and optimism, we sat and watched a DVD about how to avoid becoming bear food. Then the park ranger told us they'd had to encourage a mother Grizzly and cub out of the main campsite that morning. So the sounds I heard were not ALL Grouse.

All the other people starting their tours that day were in canoes, and had to have their gear weighed. Matt and I, in kayaks, were given our park passes and sent on our merry way.

The first part of the circuit is a huge portage - the longest on the whole tour - and for the first hour we grunted and sweated in the warm weather, hauling our kayaks on carts. I'd thrown almost all of my gear in a backpack and was dragging a light boat, Matt had gone the opposite way and was struggling just to move his heavy kayak. We started to take turns hauling his boat, and it wasn't long before we were both wondering just how far 2.4 kilometers really is. We were hot and tired, and hadn't dipped a paddle in the water yet. Added to that the warm day brought out mosquitoes by the million, and any body part that we'd missed with the bug dope was quickly turned into a pin cushion by the annoying insects.

When the first lake finally appeared, we found that we were the last to arrive. Everyone that we'd last seen weighing their gear was already there, despite us only seeing one other boat on the portage trail. Two people pushing one canoe was obviously much more efficient than a person pushing a kayak. This was a theme we were going to see more of during the week!

We were far more organised at the lake shore though. I had my kayak in the water in minutes, and even with all the gear he was packing Matt was not far behind. We put in and I tried to get a feel for moving the heavy boat around. A couple of cheesy snapshots and we were underway, leaving the canoeists behind. The first part of the lake was a grassy river delta, and we slowly wound out into Kibbee Lake. We were obviously on some sort of mission... although Kibbee is quite small we almost flew across it in twenty minutes. My kayak cart was strapped across the bow hatch and I kept hitting it with my paddle, about halfway across I noticed that I'd lost an axle pin. We'd done one of three planned portages for the day, and already we'd have to figure out how to attach my left cart wheel. Grr.

We stopped and ate a quick lunch on the far shore of Kibbee lake, and contemplated the next portage. I broke out the duck tape and my cart was not quite as good as new. The first canoeists turned up as we were leaving and the kids were all wondering whether to eat or portage first. Matt had less in his boat but the portage was harder, almost all uphill and the sun was out overhead making for hot work. We passed bear poop on the trail and I made sure to make plenty of noise, probably if we encountered a bear it would have a good laugh at us sweating and dragging our kayaks, but I didn't want to take the chance.

At the end of the portage, mosquito bitten and sick of walking, we put our boats out onto Indianpoint lake. It had a completely different character to Kibbee, and was much longer. We hugged the left shore and I noticed how quiet it was. The lake was particularly pretty, forested right to the shore and surrounded by mountains. Towards the end it narrowed right into another river delta and I realised we were paddling upstream. The sea kayaks made easy work of it though and we wound through into a small, shallow stretch of lake. At the end of it was a sign telling us where to portage. We were both pretty happy that we'd got to the third portage, once out of the way that would be our first day target completed.

We decided this time to haul our gear the 1.6km and then come back and get the kayaks. The mosquitoes were simply ridiculous, there were more than I had ever seen. We'd slapped bug repellant all over and the whole portage all I could feel was insects pinging off my arms and legs where they were trying to land. At the end of the portage the level of Isaac Lake was so high that all the ground was marshy and there was a lot of standing water. Hence the mosquitoes. We were planning to camp there originally but I told Matt we'd be better off a few hundred metres down the lake. We jumped in our kayaks and headed off, looking for a campsite.

Camping on the Bowron circuit is all in designated sites, to keep down erosion and other environmental concerns. The campsites are all numbered, and we stopped for the evening in #12. It was beautiful and we were able to watch the sun slowly sink behind the mountains. I had a look around and found a log and using Matt's axe I started chopping some wood for the fire. Matt made pizza for both of us and it went down well with the dried Lasagne dinner I had. We were both pretty pleased that we'd done almost a quarter of the circuit and three long portages. Tomorrow we'd have a paddling day and hopefully manage the whole length of Isaac Lake, some 30 kilometers. It was light so late and we sat around our fire watching the smoke cross the lake. Eventually we headed off to bed and I sat again listening to the utter quiet.

We were in the wilderness.

More to come!

Frase.

Wood

The rivers in BC are all in flood. This can be an awesome time of year if you are a) a highly experienced paddler or b) clinically insane. And I'll admit it is fun, but it can get pretty hairy too.

During our second Willow trip in early May we did our normal scout from the highway bridge above the canyon and hiked up through the snow, with a view of the river most of the way. It was clear, although noticeably much higher than the last time at about a +3 on the gauge. Around +5 House Rock is completely underwater and forms a huge hole which makes paddling for experts only. We put in and paddled First Drop and a couple of small rapids which I found I couldn't relax in, the boat was tippy and I was capsizing a lot in the pushy water. It made me nervous.

I peeled out of an eddy and went to take the next eddy downriver, blew it totally and then missed the next several as well, I wasn't being aggressive enough in the faster water. When I did eddy out I sat trying to collect myself. We were already in what was normally Diamond Wave, but all the normal features of the river were flushed out at this level. I found myself uttering the immortal line from "Jaws" - we're going to need a bigger boat. Something with a motor would be helpful about now.

The more experienced guys offered some advice about leaning hard forward as my stern was catching and flipping me. I tried and it helped but not by much and by the time we made Surf City - also washed out - I was not having fun. My friend Matt suggested I bin it and hike out of the canyon before it became too vertical around Freak My Beak. Having no ego (and no courage) whatsoever I looked at the eddyline we were behind, looked at the climb out, and said yeah ok.

I regretted the decision almost immediately. Although the canyon wall wasn't vertical it might as well have been, carrying a boat and paddle. It took most of my strength and a considerable amount of time to climb out. Once at the top I was then left with hacking my way through forest that still had a thick layer of snow, I was also on the opposite side of the canyon to the cut trail. At one point during my fight to get out I thought I heard a yell from downriver, but was too tired to pay any attention.

Cutting through back to the road finally I was convinced the guys would all be asking where on Earth I'd been, but after hiking back to the truck I found that they'd encountered a river-wide log below the Beak, wedged into the canyon. My friend Ty had got his bow jammed under it and more or less ended up doing a handstand on the log to try to escape, his boat pinned by the force of the water butting up against it. It was looking for a short while like an impossible rescue would have to be mounted, but Ty got free, paddled up a nearby eddy and then down and over the log in the middle where it was lowest. The yell I heard had been Ty whooping with relief.

The guys were all made up that I'd called it a day (despite my tall tales of how hard the climb was) as no one wanted to think about what would have happened if I'd flipped over on Freak My Beak and hit the log upside down. Apparently during the last twenty years the club had often discussed the blind drop down the Beak, and what would happen if a log came along between the scout and paddling the drop. This was the first time it had ever happened. We'd been lucky.

A week later and looking for some alternatives since the Willow was out, we were sitting in an eddy formed by a log jam and trying to catch Walsh Wave on the Nechako River when the whole wood pile gave way and swept down into the eddy. It all happened slowly and I watched it floating my way, wondering if I could tuck into the shore and avoid it, when I noticed Matt and Ty paddling like crazy for mid-river. So I followed suit. Later on the same trip Matt got his boat jammed under a branch, but managed to work free of it.

Lately paddling has been on the Bowron River with a few decent surf waves in at these kind of water levels. The last run was a strange affair where Matt ran shuttle for Ty and me on the easier Boulder Run, then I ran shuttle for Ty and Matt on the harder Portage Canyon section. There was a new trail to the put in and it involved me having to drive someone else's truck through a forest, essentially. To start with the trail was visible, although there were small trees in between the tyre tracks and I had to flatten them. I winced as they scraped down the bodywork and under the transmission. Nearer the river, the trail vanished and it was just thinly spread trees and grass. I dropped the guys and then drove the 45 minutes or so up the service road to the take out.

The road only exists as a path to the river for boaters so there is literally nothing there, 30 odd kilometers into the bush. To help the totally alone feeling I pictured scenes from "Deliverance" for forty minutes until the guys showed up, looking pretty stoked to have done a new part of the run. I'm not sure if that's the furthest I've been from civilisation before. It certainly felt like it.

Meantime I just picked up a new boat, it's a much longer and narrower sea kayak which I put on the water for the first time today. Aside from being chased across the lake by mosquitoes it made a nice change from trying to paddle ultra-short boats in a straight line. I was impressed by the speed, and for a long boat it turned well too. With three weeks to go before the planned Bowron Lakes tour I'm hoping to get a chance to take it out fully loaded for a test.

More soon!

Frase.

Game On

I looked down from the highway bridge into the churning brown mass of water below and realised I didn't recognise most of the Willow Canyon from the end of last season. It looked enticing, exciting and at the same time unnerving.

My first glimpse of proper whitewater had been the same Willow Canyon on the second day of my kayak course last year, at that time it had seemed really intimidating and I'd been surprised to find out it was only graded III (intermediate) when the river was pretty high. Like now. Strangely the water levels then would have been lower than now. I guess perspectives change as you progress in a sport.

We'd decided to take one vehicle so there would be no shuttle run, we'd walk up the canyon from the main road, put in at the top, and run back down. Which was a nice idea until I stepped off the road into snow over my knees. The whole trail was still buried except for the odd patch of Moose poop. By the time we made the put in about half an hour later the five of us were sweating in our dry gear, thermals, hoods etc. At least I wouldn't feel like chickening out of paddling... the walk back was too hard.

For some reason a burst of overconfidence had made me decide to take the little Jackson All Star I got at the end of last season with me, instead of my bigger Dagger RX. It proved to be a wise decision though as the kayak seemed to have no issues at all in the early rapids, and once we started messing about on waves it came into it's own. Sadly I am just not able to keep up with it, yet :)

We headed slowly down to Diamond Wave, which at the current levels - about a plus 1 on the river gauge - is a prime surf wave. It has a nice eddy too, last season the wave was pretty naff at low levels and the eddy made it super difficult to get on. The five of us sat in the eddy and took turns at trying to surf, with varying degrees of success. Matt and Al, the two experienced kayakers in the group, made the whole thing look easy and they were front surfing, back surfing, and spinning. Ty is a pretty experienced boater but was paddling a boat much too long for surfing. Devin and I got into kayaking last year, Dev is a pretty confident surfer whereas about the only thing I managed to surf on last year was a small bump. Despite that with my second attempt I tried to be a little more confident paddling out and was rewarded with a nice, established front surf. The boat bounced around a little and started to turn sideways but I braced on the foam pile and was pretty surprised at how the boat seemed to want to stay on the wave. It actually took me a short while to realise I'd have to surf off the wave as I wasn't going to flush out.

After a bit of whooping and general over-the-top celebration, it was back to normal and I'd either miss the wave completely, or (more usually) pansy about on the eddyline and capsize. But it was nice to finally get to surf a decent wave! Ty had my camera and videoed a few attempts, so I blame the attendant press for my poor overall performance.

We spent a short while at Surf City after that but the wave was much harder to get on, and Devin had a capsize, couldn't roll, and had to swim. We were all a little concerned as missing the next eddy would mean he'd end up swimming over Freak My Beak, but he more or less rescued himself, just leaving Matt to grab his kayak.

After Dev sorted himself it was time to run the Beak and the section under the highway bridge. I felt a bit of a buzz start and tried to prepare myself, but I was definitely pretty nervous. Added to that I was slightly dazed from having cold water rammed into my ears... note to self, try not to flip over in what is essentially freshly melted snow. Matt gave a little safety talk and then Al went down, followed by Matt. Devin and I followed Matt and Ty brought up the rear. Oddly I found that the section right before the drop was hardest - very boily, with strange eddies making the boat very unstable. I tried to lean forward as much as possible, and I managed to stay upright and dropped over the Beak. The fast moving water pushed me straight past the eddy I wanted to pull into, I turned in too late, got pushed into a rock at the end and flipped over.

I rolled back up and turned to see House Rock, right in the centre of the river, looming over me. There was a big 'cushion' of water pushing up against it, the easy route around was left but I wouldn't make it. So I paddled hard right, caught the current around the rock and was swept out down the right channel. I came out the other side laughing and saw the look of relief on the faces of the other guys. I'm fairly sure they were surprised I was still in the boat :)

From there it was easy stuff to the take out, Devin and I tried a few simple tricks whilst the others got out. The slog through the snow back to the truck was hard going... not as hard as the walk in but I was tired from the paddling. Al had volunteered to host a barbeque at his place so after a shower and change I found myself standing around a decent fire in 160 acres of countryside watching a beautiful sunset through the trees. Al is a doctor, a job that evidently pays fairly well if his backyard is anything to go by. At the end of the evening Aurora Borealis performed it's shimmering, ethereal dance for us against the dark northern sky.

Not a bad day, all in all :)

Frase.

Some video of Diamond Wave HERE. I am the one generally seen NOT surfing ;)

Waiting for the thaw

The last few weeks have been frustrating, although Spring is here the temperatures are abnormally low (if I ever paid attention to meteorology or the weather forecast I'd be able to wax on about the effects of La Nina and the Jetstream here) and still drop below freezing every night. Consequently there is still several feet of snow on the ground in most places. Here and there the sun has exposed stretches of hillside and deer are out eating what passes for grass (kind of a sandy-coloured squashed stuff, plastered to the hill).

The local ski hills just closed for the season but up to last week the Spring snowboarding was awesome, the days would start out a little icy but then the snow would get sugary in the afternoon. Added to that the ski hills stopped grooming most runs and last weekend there was actually a fresh dump of snow, meaning my last day on the hill this season was a powder day!

My friend Matt and I recently went snowshoeing on a trail maintained by the local Cross Country Skiing facility, that was pretty cool too. I'd not tried it before and had to borrow shoes and poles from Matt, then we hiked up into the forest covering a small hill. Apart from where the trail crisscrossed the ski trails there wasn't a soul around, and it was a really tranquil afternoon in the bush.

Matt is a sea kayak instructor so naturally whilst we were hiking we discussed kayak touring, and started to form a plan to paddle the entire lake circuit in Bowron Lake Park more info . The circuit is basically six major lakes in the Cariboo mountains linked by various rivers, and is meant to be an awesome wilderness paddle "one of the top ten canoe trips in the world". We figured we could do it in four days in sea kayaks, without rushing and missing most of the point of being there ;)

Our plans have developed a little and we now hope to start the trip at the end of June allowing five days to complete it, the only minor drawbacks being 1) I don't have a sea kayak, 2) I don't have any wilderness camping skills or experience and 3) June is still mosquito season. I'm hoping to rent a boat and I guess learn the backcountry camping thing as I go, but am more worried about being eaten by mozzies than being eaten by a grizzly, oddly.

Later in the summer I'm hoping to fit in a bike tour and a decent hike too, something like the West Coast Trail. All depends on time and inclination :) Anyway as soon as I have firmer plans for those trips I will post here. I'll definitely be blogging the Bowron trip too.

Meantime the wait for the rivers to thaw goes on. Last weekend we stopped at the Willow and Bowron rivers to see how the melt was going and found them still pretty icy, with the Willow canyon still completely frozen over in places. The rivers in town are looking pretty good though, the ice shelves have almost gone and if it wasn't for lots of little icebergs and a stinking cold* I'd be paddling today. Until next weekend at least, looks like paddling will continue to be in the swimming pool ;)

Frase.

* Yeah I know, I must be getting old.

The return of the Sun

Well the Sun has returned to the North, Spring has sprung, the snow is finally melting. For anyone wondering where all the blog posts went (not that they were ever prolific), the answer is I was hibernating.

Today, however, was a warm and sunny day and I spent it on the slopes with a big grin on my face.

Not that it has been totally quiet since the start of winter... apart from a few snowboarding trips there was also a very long, icy road trip to the Vancouver Bike Show. 12 hours driving on perilous roads in the thick of a Canadian winter to see a motorcycle show might sound a bit extreme, but I had an ulterior motive in the shape of Jim, my Dalton Highway riding buddy and one-time saviour after a temporary bout of mindlessness saw me flinging my bike at the Alaskan scenery.

Jim and I had agreed to meet up at the show and we had a great day looking at the bikes and gear and reminiscing. I tried a few bikes on for size, and found myself torn between the sports bikes and the desire to jump on a touring bike and head for the hills. Again. Jim seemed exactly as I remembered him, and I found it difficult to believe two and a half years had gone past since we were laughing around the fire in Marion Creek.

Jim with the latest Honda models

After the initial winter storm in November and everything freezing, there was then very little snow until the New Year. January and February saw more snow than I have ever experienced though, and soon the amount of snow on the ground was over the seasonal average (2009/10 was a very low snowfall apparently). Some of my kayaking friends started to get excited about the Spring run-off, but as February turned into March the paddling season still seemed Forever away.

Club pool sessions started in March though, and a good half dozen more experienced paddlers showed up to teach rolling and other paddle techniques to new kayakers. I've been in the pool with my kayak for an hour most weeks since Christmas, so the first pool session wasn't too much of a shock. My left arm tendonitis/strain/pain does seem pretty bad at the moment, and bugs me every time I paddle. I'm definitely going to have issues when the season starts.

Other than that I got on the roof to clear snow when it started to melt and discovered that a fun way back down is to jump. I honestly never thought when I was younger that I'd ever chuck myself off a roof. But with a six foot deep pillow of soft snow all the way around the house the biggest danger is getting stuck in it (or getting snow up your pants).

Anyway here are a few random winter pics!

More soon.

Frase.

Turkey shoot

Last weekend saw my first archery shoot since the 3D tournaments I attended in the early summer. The "Turkey shoot" was a Christmas get together and a series of ten events that pretty much anyone could have a go at. There was a huge mix of people from small kids to retirees, and all manner of shooters, from traditional longbow and recurve to hugely technical compound with sights, stabilizers and release aids.

Rick lining up a calendar shot

The first event was pretty simple, a balloon wall with every archer firing one arrow to try to burst a balloon. It was difficult to select a target since there were so many but I was happy I hit the one I aimed at. There were allegedly prize tokens hidden in some of the balloons but despite most of the more experienced archers bursting some, and then the marshall letting the kids have at it until they were bored, only one token was recovered!

The second event was a small spot on a target that had been wrapped in Christmas

paper, closest arrow to the hidden mark won. The third event was a target marked with numbers, everyone fired one arrow and then the 'lucky number' was revealed. Canny shooters aimed their arrows to bisect numbers and double their chances :) The winning number was 10, and my arrow in the 7 was closest so I won a turkey.

Next came a calendar shoot, where all the dates on a one-month calendar were jumbled up and the calendar pinned in reverse on the target. Each archer was allowed three arrows and the highest total won. Although there could be no way of knowing how many you'd scored, the event really favoured compound/sighted bows since hitting a letter size sheet of paper at 18 metres with a longbow is an achievement in itself. Despite that a lot of kids with bare bows scored pretty well. I'd definitely have scored better if my third arrow had hit the paper :)

Bare bows were definitely better off in the next round, which consisted of shooting at part of a target. Traditional shooters got half a target, and the more shooting aids you had on your bow the less target you got :) The open class - compound bows with all the toys - got 1/16th. I managed to put my first two arrows exactly where the other half of the gold would have been, and the third arrow into the 10. I should have been happy with the tight grouping but it was frustrating to only score 10. The winner was a traditional shooter, which was cool.

When I saw the marshalls setting up the sixth round I laughed, the target was the flame of a candle. Hitting the candle wouldn't do, you had to snuff it with your arrow! Again I thought it was a little biased towards the sighted bows, but my friend and sometime mentor Rick pointed out the much larger fletching of traditional arrows gave us a reasonable chance. I got close, and was reasonably pleased with my shot. Some of the kids managed to put candles out, enough that there had to be a shoot-out to settle the winner!

Gary shooting at 80cm target - with mixed up scoring zones

After that came blindfold reindeer shooting, mixed number target shooting and a shot at a revolving drum through a narrow slot. The last event was the Turkey Shoot, a wooden block with a turkey on it was sent down a rope while archers took shots at it, all to a squawking turkey noise in the background. As I waited for my shot I contemplated just how redneck this would have seemed to me in London, in another life. Of course then my competitiveness took over and I forgot all that and tried to kill that wooden bird ;) My arrow found wood but I missed the scoring zone but a couple of inches, not bad for my first moving target.

Overall I was pretty happy with my shooting. I'd had a several-month lay off and was shooting a new set of arrows that Rick had made for me, and despite that I'd managed to mostly hit what I was aiming at. Added to that there always seems to be a little hard core of traditional shooters at local events and they are very easy to get along with, which makes for more fun.

More soon.

Frase.

Snowboating

Ok so it's hardly a new sport... but it seemed to generate some interest at the local hill. Take one bored kayaker, throw in a snow slope and you have a recipe for fun (or hospital, one or the other).

There is no learning curve to speak of - aside maybe from finding the right slope - you just sit in and go :) The first few slopes I tried were too shallow and the snow too sticky, a regular toboggan was far more fun. Finally I thought I'd try a steeper slope, so went over to the hill where all the local kids go sledding. Rather than start with some of the shallower runs I picked the biggest hill, trudged my way to the top, got in and then realised as the boat picked up more and more speed that I had absolutely no way to control it. Kind of like riding a small missile... and if anyone had been in the way I'd have mowed them down. So I think lesson learned, next time I'll take my paddle and at least then I might be able to steer a bit if not actually brake. I'll take a snow shovel too and make a little kicker for jumps and more stupidity.

I stuck some video of my last run down the hill on YouTube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bMxD39P3hyM and yes it was as much fun as it looks.

Meantime it has been much warmer recently, a little below zero but probably warmer than the UK! The local river is iced over for several metres on either side but is flowing in the middle, and the large ice chunks that were floating in it have mostly disappeared, so a paddle may be possible if I can find a way onto the water. I'm also hoping to head south for a bit of paddling in the New Year, more on that soon.

Frase.