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The Monster Ride - Sloquet Hotsprings / Port DouglasHarrison AreaApril 22/06 Written by Greg, Treds, and Paul T. Photos by Bruce, LarryJJ, Paul Mitchell, Paul T., Polecat, and Slime Green Cat Greg starts:Treds posted the following note in the Trips and Events forum:
Boy, he wasn't kidding about "all natural", as we found out later! I woke up at 6:00am, right on schedule, and headed out for the rendez-vous location. However, I was thinking about a different spot, and drove past the turn-off. I eventually realized my error when I reached Agassiz, but of course I was now late, keeping my impeccable record of being so. *sigh* The others were pretty much ready to go, so I prepped as fast as I could. Some made fun of the fact that I was carrying 13 US gallons of spare gas, on top of the 4.5 US gallons in my tank. I had (2) 4-gallon jerry cans on the front rack, and (2) 2.5-gallon jerry cans on top of my quad trunk. 
Yes, the quad didn't handle as well with the extra load! However, I didn't want to be the one having to turn around while there were still trails to explore. We had 25 riders, and we hit the trail in bunches, in hopes of avoiding getting dusted out. It was slightly cool in the morning, and after about 10km's I realized I'd left my rain gear in my truck, so no jacket. *doh* Treds loaned me his spare windbreaker after Pegger mentioned that I was a tad cold (thanks!). The three of us were "sweep" and we rarely saw the others, except for Paul T. who takes his time as he rides, enjoys the scenery, and takes photos. 
Our first main stop was Twenty-Mile Bay, where we verified that all were present, had a snack, and chatted about quad stuff. Once we were ready to go, we again took off in small groups. 
We caught up to the others who had stopped on a bridge right before a rougher section; by "rough" I mean not smooth, as the entire trip was a scenic ride and suitable for 2wd. At this point, I was just following the group, so I'll let Treds and Paul T. take over. Treds' story:Picked up Wow-wee and proceeded to the Tim Horton's in Mission. Rendez-voused with Gerry & the Pegger, had a bagel and a double-double and were good to go. Off to the Weaver Creek fish hatchery to meet the rest of the Quads.ca crew. OMG! There are trucks and quads all over the place! Twenty four riders are prepping for the Monster Ride and along comes Greg, late as usual, making for twenty five riders. I do a visual check to see that all brought some spare gas, then I see Greg's Rincon, he's brought a gas station! Holy Crap! Some folks are keen and ready to go at nine o'clock sharp, others are socializing and slowly getting ready to go. It is suggested we all meet at Twenty Mile Bay on Harrison Lake. Those that are ready tear off up the FSR in groups of sixes and eights. I hang back to make sure everyone gets on the trail okay. Three km's in, the first issue appears: a Honda is blowing black smoke and idling poorly. B.J. tweaks his ride and gets the proper mix, and we're off again without the black smoke. As we get up to Twenty Mile Bay, Paul T. is losing the extra gas cans he is carrying and has to re-tie them down. I point out the way down to the rendez-vous area and proceed down the hill waiting for him at the left turn to the beach. Ten minutes pass and still no Paul T.; I go racing back to the point where I told home to go down to the beach and no sign of him. I think he's gone straight through and go zipping down that road only to find Larryjj out wandering about. Time to call in on the radio... yes Paul did get down to the rendez-vous; Larryjj and I catch up with the group. 
We again take off in groups of sixes, I tell a few folks I'm going to go down a road at Doctors Point to see if the Kaiyama petroglyphs are visible from the beach and we are all going to meet up at the Doctors creek bridge. Pegger and I ventured down to the beach and found a ton of campers down there but the petroglyphs aren't visible from this location. Pegger tells me Greg is getting cold as he's forgotten his jacket back at the trucks; I offer him the summer shell I carry for warmer day riding, he's right into the designer label on the coat. Back up with our group we catch up with the others at the bridge where two guys are holding Wow-wee's Honda up on one side as he'd ripped his sheet metal armor off the bottom of his quad during a creek crossing. No one had the appropriate wrench to remove it, so I climbed under and installed some heavy duty zap straps to his newly re-worked sheet metal. 
The next rendez-vous point is the far side of the upcoming logging camp. We're the last bunch to pull in here and the security person from the camp has wandered down the road to see all the riders. She has a few conversations with some of the riders about the upcoming demise of the camp. 
Next stop: the Sloquet Hotsprings. We all leave the logging camps in our chosen clusters for the sprint to the springs. Still bringing up the rear we catch up to Rhino Bob whose Rhino is having overheating issues. He's nursing it along the last 4 kms and would catch up with us at the springs. At the last turn off to the springs my Kodiak died, at 101 kms in I'm out of gas; a quick re-fill and I too roll into the springs. 
The path down to the spring has been blocked by some large rocks being put in place. We have a lunch break with some of us meandering down to the springs, others starting a fire and the rest relaxing and yakking. After having had a bite to eat, B.J. finds a path through the trees to get his quad down to the spring. Wow-wee, Pegger, the John Deere boys, and myself wander down to the springs for a look-see. First we encounter a campsite with four or five small expensive four-season tents. Two "dudes" appear, one with a Rastafarian doo and the other a 60's-wanna-be hippie with a feather braided into his hair. I control an outburst of laughter. We get down into the springs and there are two naked girls enjoying the middle of the three ponds, us quadders being of good company wandered down to the farthest of the pools and may or may not have glanced occasionally in their direction. It was during one of these infrequent glances that the girls had raised their arms and a mass of hair appeared scaring the bejeezuz out of me. We had no alternative; when we left the last pool we had to walk by these girls. I again stole a glance only to see that they had hairier legs than most farm animals. As we walked past the first pool there was a boy girl au natural that were unseen when we walked in initially. Who knows who we missed?!? I was thinking of the irony of these leaf-licker hippie types being here with their expensive four-season tents and the Chevy Suburban that they got here in wanting to keep all ORV's out of places like this. Back up to the quads and some folks have decided to go down to a quarry we'd passed for a little target practice with their .22's. We load up and make our way down to the quarry meeting up with the rest of the gang. Our next destination is Port Douglas. 
The road into Port Douglas isn't quite as it appears in the Backroads Mapbook. We had to go further up the Lillooet valley to make the left turn, and we actually had to ask a native for directions to get there. We tear off down the road to Port Douglas looking for the cairn that marks the historic significance of this area, finding it on the left as we approached the Indian village. We stop for a photo session and stretch. I see a graveyard up on the side of the eastern edge and ride down to a native house to ask for permission to go see it. Two young natives who might have been a wee bit high said "no we can't go down there" so we turned around and rejoined the group. Greg had spotted another grave yard up on the side of the road where we came into Port Douglas so we went up to see the gravestones there. There were three marked graves with legible markings on them and others with the grave markers too weathered to be readable. 
We were next going to rendez-vous back at the logging camp for the return portion of our trip, but alas 'twer not to be. Fred on his John Deere had crossed too deep in a water crossing and was having difficulty getting over 30 km/h. We stop and pull his seat off to look at his air box; it was full of water. I used a rag and sponged all the water from it. It started and was revving freely now. We put it all back together and attempt to rejoin the gang when the same problem persisted. We removed his air filter and cleaned it with some of our precious gasoline. We started the quad without the filter, it was really running a lot better, back on goes the air filter. Another attempt and he is still having no luck over 30km/h. Fred checks his oil dip stick; bad news it looks like mocha-chino coffee. I'm thinking "Oh yeah! I'm going to be bagging me a Deere." A few of the guys had come back to see where we were and what was taking us so long. All went through their spare gear and found enough oil to perform a oil change. No one had the right wrench to get the oil pan open so it's decided to tow his quad back by his brother Ken. They get set up and make their way down the road, the rest of us reassemble our tools and stuff and soon follow, taking it real easy. The Deere boys found a native fisherman with a good tool selection, and they managed to get the oil change done before we'd crossed the bridge back over the Lillooet River. Ken, Fred and B.J. decided it was prudent to head back while the semi-drowned quad was now operating decently. Some of the gang had gone to look for Tretheway Creek Road. Others had vaporized assuming they'd headed back. 
That left six of us diehards (Wow-wee, Paul T., Larryjj, M.I.K.E, Gerry and I) out there. We decided that since we were out this far we'd better go to Fire Lake as there no telling when a re-visit might take place. The road up to the lake is really fun (probably the best road of the trip), then at 1650 feet elevation we encountered snow and had to turn around. Too bad, I've always wanted to go to Fire Lake (Hey! Someone should write a song about that!). 
We ride back to the logging camp as photos of the place are required after discovering that the place is slated to be torched. Those with operating cameras are busy snapping pictures and buzzing around when the Camp watch person approaches. Everyone takes off leaving me with this woman (this is where the rumours get started). I have a brief conversation about what my fellow riders are up to, and see them disappearing in the distance. I wish her well and say my good-byes and tear off after the gang in fear of being left behind with that woman. As I get to the far end of the camp the rest of the gang is riding around in the buildings, I give 'er to put as much distance between me and that woman as I possibly can. The gang catches up with me and the teasing begins immediately. Next stop Twenty-Mile Bay. We stop and eat the last of the food we're carrying, and I suggest all fill their gas tanks now as it will be dark soon, and filling your out-of-gas quad in the dark is no fun. Everyone tops up their rides. We blasted back, the dust was getting pretty bad and the darkness was quickly closing in. Gerry wanted to do some of the side trails so four of us were still keen while Paul T. and Larryjj were interested in preserving their marriages and decided to go straight back. We doodled around a bit but weren't much behind Paul T. and Larryjj. We were loading up when my radio went off asking where we were. Wow-wee and I looked around wondering who the H. is that? Everyone here was at the only vehicles around. Along comes Greg coming to rescue us from our little adventure of the day. Man! I'm glad we don't do "Monster Rides" too often! Paul T.'s story:Damn it was a super day. The first of the 25 quads cleared the parking lot about 9:30, everyone packing at least an extra tank of gas, many of us had more. The weather couldn't have been better, and surprisingly the first of the mosquitoes were appearing. The road was in pretty good shape, except for about a 20km stretch beyond Twenty-Mile Bay. Some steep grades and several spots with fresh rock fill, to patch up what appeared to be "wash-outs". Even still, it was easy for the quads to negotiate. It was amazing to see a couple of brave hearts driving in with SUV's and 4x4 pickups. On the way in, we stopped at the old Canfor camp (at the top end of Harrison Lake). Talking to the caretaker, she says they're talking about burning the camp down, I believe the camp dates back to the early 1930's (Glenlivet would know for sure). Damn people have no concern for history. On the return trip, we "6 Late Night Rider's" stopped again at the camp, so I could take a few pics of it before it's gone. 
Lunch break was at the Sloquet Hot Springs parking lot. For those of us with bad knees or whatever, the hike down the foot path to the hot springs had to be left to the more fit. After lunch, the pack headed for Port Douglas. What an incredible historic location. It was the original beginning of the Cariboo gold trail into the interior of BC, which ended at Barkerville (just north & east of Quesnel). All that's left of the original Port Douglas was a commemorative cairn, and the small cemetery (that we visited), with graves dating as early as 1861. 
It was super, to at last see some so very historic and beautiful country. It's amazing how beautiful Harrison Lake is when one is able to travel the length of it. You get to see all the mountains and ice fields, not visible from Harrison Hot Springs. It is truly a jewel of a lake. 
And a thanks is given to a First Nation's family in their SUV, who came along as we had stopped to ponder our present location, and where Port Douglas was. They were happy to put us right and just laughed at us boys with all the equipment and still not sure where we were. Later, our attempt to make it into Fire Lake was aborted due to soft snow at the 1500 ft level. As for wildlife, no one reported seeing any. I'd have thought for sure we'd have seen a bear or two in the replanted logged blocks at dusk, where there were lots of early grass and plants. Having logged 261 kms, I would have preferred to have seen a bit less and traveled at a more leisurely pace... but that's the way it goes for a first exploration trip (for most of us). I'm sure not complaining. We were back at the fisheries parking lot at 8:45pm, after an almost 12-hour day. Nice to see Greg waiting just to make sure we were all ok. As Greg mentioned, a few of the quads had problems, everybody helped out. And those with extra gas passed it around to ensure everyone had enough to make the long drive back. The day will not be forgotten by this guy..... It was absolutely Super! Greg continues:A brief note about that cemetery; the Natives told us that we could not visit THEIR cemetery, but we were welcome to check out the other one as there was only white people there. After Port Douglas, I headed south to join Bruce and others who were off looking for the Tretheway Creek FSR. I had intermittent radio contact with them from the start of the Port Douglas road all the way down to the Tretheway turn-off. Apparently they could hear my high-powered radio the whole time, but I couldn't hear their replies. Anyways, I was able to understand Bruce enough to know which direction to go, and to know that Singleton would be waiting at the trailhead for me. I stopped just south of the Canfor logging camp at a high point to see if I could raise them again; Slime Green Cat called back and we determined that he was just behind me, so I waited for him then we both headed for the Tretheway road. Mid-way between the camp and Tretheway, we found Rhino Bob being towed by Rich. Bob's Rhino was still overheating, so Rich being a non-belt-transmission quad was towing the 1300-pound machine back to the trucks. They were doing fine, so we left them and continued on. 
When we finally arrived at the Tretheway road, all of Bruce's gang had made it back down and were taking a break while Singleton was trying to figure out why his quad was steering funny. He suspected an air leak and was checking out the front tires, but couldn't find a problem. Somebody else suggested he examine a low-looking rear tire, and sure enough, he found a gash in the sidewall. While he was working on it, Rich and Rhino Bob passed us and kept on going. We caught up with Rich and Bob, and pulled over for a break. Bob's face was totally covered with dust; since he was being towed there was nothing he could do about it except hold his breath for as long as he could. He didn't even have goggles to cover his eyes. I gave him some water, and Slime Green Cat took over towing duties to give Rich's quad a break. 
Just past Twenty-Mile Bay we ran into Grizzly Girl and family. We chatted briefly, and mentioned that we were going to the Sasquatch for a burger when we got back. They turned around at that point, and were going to follow us back. We never did see Grizzly Girl back at the trucks, so we thought they might have had some mechanical issue. Some of us waited around for a while for the others to return; some returned and some didn't. Those that returned told tales of Fred swamping his John Deere when a water crossing got deeper than it looked, and of running very short on gas. One of the group had picked up a jerry can and was headed back up the road to refuel a quad that had run out. Nobody was laughing at all of my extra gas now! After a bit, Singleton and I were the only ones left at the trucks. I left a couple of notes on windshields saying we'd be at the Sasquatch, and we headed off for a burger. After dinner, I said goodbye to Singleton, and headed back up to the trailhead to see who had made it out. On the way there, I passed Grizzly Girl's truck heading out, so I knew they had made it. It turns out her daughter's chain snapped, so she had to tow her about 15 kms back to the truck. When I arrived at the trailhead, Treds, Gerry, Paul T., LarryJJ, M.I.K.E., and Wow-wee had just rolled in. They hadn't had any issues, and had just been checking out trails. They had logged 250-260 km's on their quads. Treds reported that he had briefly chatted with the logging camp attendant on the way through, and she was getting a little too friendly, so he lit out of there as fast as he could! |
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