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A cautionary tale at break-up
Kootenay Crust By Ian Cobb
Op-Ed Commentary
I just posted a wee story about Columbia Valley Search and Rescue (CVSAR) rescuing stranded motorists on Westside Road the night of March 23.
It is a cautionary tale that many of us have experienced in the East Kootenay. Unless you’re a stay-in-town and never-venture-into-the-massive-expanse of Crown land that surrounds our communities – a rare gift for human populations as it is – then you know the feeling of being stuck or stranded on a forest service road, or feeder road or waaaaaay in the back bush in some way.
It’s a kind of rite-of-passage getting stuck. Pushing your luck until tires stop turning. And it’s a huge pain in the ass for all involved.
I’ve been stuck – really badly. I was once stuck in a slough on the powerline road south of Dutch Creek for five days. It took multiple trucks and wonderful, capable friends to get my ass out of that mess. A local tow truck operator even damaged a truck just trying to get to where I was stuck – and no other tow operators would do the job.
Many years before that, when this flatlander first arrived in the valley, I became stuck in a pond off Westside Road between Fairmont and Invermere. It was a classic ‘break-up’ kind of day – warming and windy in February and because of it and boredom I followed a dirt road down alongside southwestern Lake Windermere where I had been in the hot and dry of summer.
I had to cross a frozen pond at one point, just to drive to a nearby spot on a narrow ridge where I had to turn around. As I crossed the pond a second time, all four of my tires cracked through the ice and I become horrifically stuck, with water gushing inside the cab when I opened the door.
That boneheaded move – my first encounter with the wrath of the mountains in late winter/early spring in a new two-wheel drive Ford Ranger (yeah, stupid right?), cost me over $400 (in 1991) to get out, not to mention the 40 pounders of whiskey for the intrepid mud bogging Canal Flats Frenchmen who arrived to aid the ballsy tow-truck owner who first tried to tug me up a series of muddy switchbacks.
But it’s not the failure stories I wish to talk about – it’s the one giant miraculous escape I once experienced at just this time of year.
I was cruising about in the north end of the valley, around Spillimacheen and Brisco taking photos when I got it in my head to take Brisco Road to Bugaboo Creek FSR to Westside Road with the idea I’d take it south to Invermere.
As the road ran along the wetlands it was wet but clear. It was a nice sunny day, about +8 C. The tunes were cranked.
I rolled along toward Westside Road and came to a long downward curve that led me to a small bridge that signaled the end of the plowed road. Beyond was snow packed by side-by-side snowmobile tracks.
Being in a two-wheel drive truck, I realized I’d gone as far as I could and tried to back up the hill to turn around. My truck slid off the road.
Thankfully I had a spade in the box because I had been helping a friend dig drainage channels in her property to stem springtime flooding from properties above hers in Invermere. Another early days dumb move; driving about in the deep back bush without a shovel or a chainsaw.
After much effort I was able to dig my truck back onto Westside Road to the entry to the bridge. I tried to back up again and slid once more off the road. Shovel and repeat – back to the bridge entry. I am not going to be able to back up that hill. Hmm.
I walked along the sled tracks and they were solid. It was then I seized on what is likely the dumbest idea I’ve ever had during my adventures in the back woods.
“Maybe I can drive along that until I find a place to turn around,” I thought, also believing I might be able to actually make it all the way out in that direction.
So off I went, creeping along the snowmobile tracks – late March in the Purcells. After about two or three kms I rounded a corner to find a long uphill climb awaiting me. I hit the gas and started pushing upward until I could go no further – spinning, digging down and cursing, knowing I am now about 15 kms from Brisco and stuck. “Fuck.”
I then remembered I had passed a pullout about half way up the hill, where a plow had pushed snow earlier in the fall or winter. I was able reverse downhill to the spot and got out to check out where I intended to swing my ass end in in order to turn around. It seemed solid.
I got into the truck and hit the gas, swinging the box into the pullout and becoming badly stuck.
I grabbed the shovel I would normally not have in my box and began digging beside and under the tires on the downhill side of my truck. I threw the snow into my box for weight.
I worked away at this scenario for more than an hour. I’d get in the truck after digging for a while and gun it. The truck slowly spun around from these efforts until I was in a position to give ‘er and try to get back onto the downhill sled tracks. And it worked.
Ecstatic, sweating profusely and wide eyed I slowly rolled downhill along the now softened sled tracks all the way back to the small bridge and was able to juuuuust get up the hill around that snaggy corner and out to freedom.
The elation was titanic. I felt like the king of the world but I knew I was a lucky idiot, too.
So, I share this story as a cautionary tale to all you who think the nicer weather of March and early April means toodling down backcountry roads is in order.
What stood out the most from the CVSAR report is the notation that this was the fifth stranded motorists call out for the squad this winter.
The more urban people come out to our sprawling backcountry Crown land playground the more these events will occur. Road conditions change in a blink around a sharp gravity testing corner.
Don’t be like me; use your head and stay away from the temptation to ramble and toodle until break-up is complete and high country snow is gonzo. Leave that stuff to the experts with the right machinery.
I will close with sage advice from CVSAR: “Remember: very few backcountry roads are plowed in winter and conditions are usually far from good. As we enter spring melt-freeze thaw cycles, road conditions can also change dramatically over the course of a single day.
“We do not recommend travelling questionable backcountry roads unless you are very prepared.”
– Ian Cobb is owner and editor of e-KNOW and he no longer messes with the mountains when the time ain’t right.
