Surviving the Drive

Drop Off in Dark!

I'm back in Canada. I have figured out "recreation sites" are much like BLM lands. Some of them have campgrounds that are free; others have only trailheads. They are way out in the middle of nowhere, deep in the forests, usually on really rough roads that seem to go on forever. The first one I attempted to find was 21 kilometers of rocky, dusty, dirt to Little Slocan Recreation Site. I arrived to a campground at a lake that had six sites and not one available! Darn! Since it was the weekend, I did expect this might happen, but I was still disappointed to have to drive that road all the way back!

This second attempt was a drive back to Salmo which was 40 kilometers south of Nelson and another 10 kilometers to Erie Creek Recreation Site. It boasted four campsites. The directions said the turn off was paved 200 feet then 9.7 kilometers of flat, easy dirt road. We'll see. 

I found a single lane, maybe one and one half vehicle wide in sections flat with lots of big, loose rocks, a drop off, and on the other side a rock slide. It seemed fine. Really. Maybe. What was I thinking? I kept going!! Do I have a death wish?

What gave me pause was this sign and several like it:

So what the hell do I do if a logging truck approaches? Do we have a stand off? Would I be able to back up down this tiny, twisty road to a turnout? As it was two pickups passed me and we barely fit with one pulling into a small turnout to allow me passage. I kept going, praying due to the heat, the loggers all went home early.

Near the end of the 10k road, it changed. It narrowed. It became deeply rutted with large boulders in the middle, and deep, worrisome potholes filled with dirty water. More importantly, the steeper downhill decline made me panic. We are always told, don't go down if you might not be able to drive up and out. Vans easily roll downhill, but might not have the power to pull themselves back up the hill. But where do I turn around? I don't have a choice. Many people have told me they will get out and walk down a road to check it out before driving down. How does one hike 10 kilometers to check the end of a road? I kept going. What an adventure!! Am I a risk taker or a dummy?

I found the campsite. It is in the forest along side a raging river. It might be a creek (Erie Creek), but it was wide, loud, cold, and refreshing. I even had my own beach!

Not as many mosquitoes here and much cooler with a breeze coming off the water. I was the only one in the campground. I worried all night I might not be able to drive out. Would it be too steep? What would I do? There is no cell or internet service. Do I wait for someone in a 4x4 pickup to help? Do I empty my van of towels and use them for traction? Will Big Blue fishtail right off the road into the abyss? I heard on the radio there might be rain although I found this ridiculous since it was 91 degrees all day. If it really rains and makes that steep, dirt road slick mud, I am so screwed!

There is no greater satisfaction than surviving the drive the next morning, crawling up that road at five miles per hour, at four in the morning, in the dark, and making it to the main highway! It looked a lot more foreboding going down than going up. It's such a relief as I exclaim with joy and pat my trusty van on her dashboard, "Good going, Big Blue! Well done!"

My third attempt at a recreation site was outside Revelstoke at the Frog Falls Recreation Site. It was only 4 kilometers off the highway so I thought it might be doable. The road was dirt and rock, but flat and wide...well, until the turn off for the site then it narrowed and became rutted. I was afraid I'd bottom out, but it went fine. The four campsites were scattered in the woods and the one I selected was next to a raging creek, dark and ominous. I tried backing around and facing outward which is what I do should I need to leave in a hurry, but the space was too small and I ended up denting my back bumper on a tree stump. And like so many of these dirt roads, it is an active logging road!

I arrived around 8pm and there was one logger still working up on the hill, but no trucks on the road. However, by 9pm, I felt really creepy being alone in the dark surrounded by tall trees with no internet. I all of a sudden didn't want to be there. I've learned to trust my instincts. I left, moved to the beginning of the dirt road on a large off shoot where there was internet connection. About thirty minutes later I watched a van pass me heading to the site. I wish they would have stopped and parked next to me, but we tend to respect the privacy of others. Anyway, I slept really well. The above photo was taken at 6am and the loggers started coming in with their big pickups kicking up dust around 4am.