Just got back home after an epic, exhausting and incredible 12-day sneak preview of our new 'Deluxe BC' trip. Joining me for the ride were my lead guide Eddy Plant, lead coach Johanna Weintrager, my fiancée Tanya, and 4 media folks: Andrew Findlay, freelancer, Ian MacNeill for Western Living Magazine, photographer Patrice Halley and Cory from Ride Ruide TV.
Aside from a bit of nasty weather, it was everything we hoped for: good friends, great hospitality, and even greater riding. Read on for the dirty details.
Day 1 - FernieWe started out with some sweet digs at Lizard Creek Lodge. Our first day we rode the awesome Project 9 trail, and got some nice shots in the old-growth up at Island Lake. Good to showcase the home trails. Unfortunately, Cory's videocamera cacked out and he was out for the rest of the trip. Luckily, he's joining us in Peru in a few weeks to film an episode with Wade Simmons and Richie Schley.
Day 2 - Baldface Lodge, NelsonWe hit the road early to get to
Baldface Lodge near Nelson early enough to get some good riding in. Fish from Baldface had been telling me about the awesome trails that Mike Kinrade and his crew had been cutting up there, so we decided to check them out for ourselves. Upon arriving in Nelson, we started the climb up to Baldface. An hour later, we were in alpine heaven. The lodge is at around 6 or 7,000 feet, and we'd gotten there just after a snowstorm, which left a few inches of sugary white stuff on the ground. We met up with Fish and proceeded to push our bikes up into the high alpine.
Wow. The terrain at Baldface is epic to say the least. Big ridges in every direction. Big bowls. Big views. We took some snaps in the snow before hopping onto a big descent through meadows, steeps, and dense forest before ending up at Fish's truck where beers were chilling in the creek for us. From the first ride, we were hooked on this place. Eddy and Johanna looked like they were ready to move to Nelson that day.
We ate some deluxe grub in the main lodge that night and reveled in the hospitality, primed up for another big day on Seven Summits.
Day 3 - Seven Summits, RosslandWe'd already ridden Seven Summits plenty of times on our Ultimate BC tour, so we knew what we were in for: one of BC's toughest all-day cross-country epics. Seven Summits starts with a 2,500 foot climb, and doesn't really let up all that much over the course of the next 6 hours. It's a grunt, but a grunt with a view: big sweeping vistas of the Bonnington Range, the town of Rossland and Red Mountain. Most of the time you're riding on ridgelline in the alpine, your jaw dropping at the view while your lungs explode, imploring you to just give up. It's a constant psychological struggle to keep going, but boy is it worth it. Every time I ride this trail, I think I'm going to die, and when I'm done I feel like I've actually kicked the bucket and gone straight to heaven.
Today was no different. Sunshine, good friends, and a cold beer after the ride. Could this be the secret to happiness?
Day 4 - Baldface Lodge & NelsonOur day started with a 6,000-foot descent down to Kootenay Lake. I skipped out to spend some time with my gal, but Eddy, Johanna and Andrew joining Fish for the ride through Swamp Donkey. Meeting up with them at El Taco in Nelson a few hours later, their grins told the whole story. From the sounds of it, I may have to return to check it out.
We scooted over to Ainsworth to have a soak in the hotsprings, and then headed up to
Retallack Lodge near New Denver, where owner Chris and his chef Thomas were waiting for us. Johanna was on her home turf and eager to show us the goods.
The lodge is certainly deluxe, and so is the food. We hit the sack as content as could be.
Day 5 - New Denver
We hit the van running, driving through the ghost town of Sandon before shuttling partway up Idaho peak to catch a 2,500-foot descent to the valley bottom. Tanya and I checked out the Galena trail, enjoying our first cable-car experience while waiting for the others. After lunch, we headed back up to the very tip of Idaho Peak, for the descent down the Wakefield trail. the views from up top are up there with the best in BC, with Silverton down below and Slocan Lake looking like it was served up straight from heaven. The trail starts off with some hefty exposure - a definite no-fall zone - and then ends up being pretty fast and crusiy through the forest before ending up near the pub in Silverton, where the Budweiser's cold and the waitress is even colder.
We tried valiantly to party hard that night, but after riding all day, from 9 am to 6 pm, there just wasn't enough in the tank to keep it going. We must be getting old.
Day 6 - RevelstokeSome yummy pancakes got us going for the drive to Halfway Creek Hotsprings. I'd tell you were they are, but then they'd end up just like every other hotspring in BC: overcrowded and overused. So we'll keep this one a secret, for now. Suffice to say that these springs are remote, they're awesome, and they're hard enough to get to that you won't find pasty, Speedo-wearing Germans there yet. And did we ever enjoy the hell out of them.
After tearing ourselves away to get to Revelstoke in time for our ride, we hopped on the Galena Bay ferry, scooted up the highway to Revelstoke, and then drove up to the trailhead for Keystone Standard Basin. We were stoked for some sunshine, but the weather had other ideas. Keystone is one of the premier rides in BC, but on this day, we were in a battle against the elements. About halfway up, we hit the snow line. This area is a hit with snowmobilers for one reason: deep, deep snow, about 50 feet of it every winter. And today it looked like Mama Nature was getting a head start. By the time we got up to the upper basin, we were battling about 4 inches of snow, freezing rain, and numb fingers. Andrew and I kept pushing on, driving each other higher up the trail, but finally we had to pull the plug. We raced back down the trail, hooting and hollering, one of the best rides we'd both had in a while. It was one of those days when you'd never think to get out of bed to ride, but when you're done, you're sure glad you did. Salmon steaks at Glacier House put the icing on an already sweet, sweet day.
Day 7 - Salmon ArmWe were all pretty stoked on this day: a sneak preview of a new mega-trail and houseboating on the Shuswap. We met up with Greg Scharf from Skookum Cycles in Salmon Arm, got Patrice's beat up bike fixed, and headed off to the trailhead. Greg is one of the guys behind this mega-project: a 380-km singletrack loop around Shuswap Lake that is years in the making, and will take another two years to complete. Jim, the head trailbuilder, joined us shortly after; his eyes gleamed as he spoke of his labour of love.
We started off with another burly climb, which was just fine since it was about 6 degrees out and raining. Every now and then, we could see the lake poking out through the clouds, thousands of feet below, and we could only imagine what this place must look like in the sunshine. The singletrack was sweet: buffed and windy, with lots of tight switchbacks to keep you honest. I think we rode about 1/15th of the trail, and it was enough to keep us going all day.
Finally, the cherry on top: our own deluxe, 20-person houseboat, courtesy of
Waterway Houseboats. This thing was beyond deluxe; we're talking fireplace, 8 big bedrooms, a hot tub, a rooftop deck, full kitchen. Greg's wife cooked up some delicious food while Greg kept the beers flowing. And we just sat there stunned at the hospitality while the boat cruised on. That night, we hot tubbed under the stars while Greg and Jim talked about their dream trail.
I look forward to riding the whole thing one day.
Day 8 - Kamloops Bike Camp
After all the XC, we were ready to do some freeriding. Luckily, Chuck and Devon from kamloops Bike Camp were happy to oblige. Meeting us at the Quaoot Lodge parking lot with freeride bikes in town, we hopped into Chuck's rig for the ride up the mountain. Chuck has been building trails on the land behind Quaoot for several years, hoping to turn it into the ultimate freeride destination. Time will tell if he ever achieves his dream, but for now he's got some pretty epic terrain to work with, including some monster road gaps and some great steeps.
Unfortunately, we missed our evening sweat lodge with Ernie Phillips, the Lodge's cultural director, but we did catch him afterward, in full costume, a big grin from ear to ear. I look forward to taking him up on his rain check. If you've never ever done a sweat lodge, I highly recommend it. A good physical and spiritual cleansing.
Day 9 - en route to Tyax Lodge
Today was a driving day, as we hit the road for the 6-hour drive to remote Tyax Lodge near Gold Bridge, 2 hours north of Whistler. Dale and Tyax Air operate a floatplane service to take you from Tyax Lodge to several nearby epic trails. We got to lodge just before dinner and checked into our 5-star chalet before hitting the main lodge for a massive buffet feast. The surly Germans staying at the lodge gave us some nasty looks during our post-dinner game of Crud, which is basically full-contact billiards without pool cues (don't ask).
Day 10 - Spruce Lake Today was the day we'd all been waiting for, the big enchilada to top off our singeltrack fiesta. We met Dale after breakfast and loaded up his 1961 Beaver floatplane. We were all stoked as stoked can be, practically buzzing with excitement. None of us had ever ridden in a floatplane, let alone in the Chilcotin Mountains, some of the biggest, baddest mountains BC has to offer. We squeezed the bikes in, then squeezed ourselves in. Dale fired up the moter, then gave us the safety briefing as we taxied around the lake. The engines fired and we started to glide across the surface of the lake. As the engine whined into higher and higher RPMs, we picked up speed, and soon the lodge started to shrink as we hit the air. I've been in helicopters in BC, Cessnas in Nepal, Boeings in Peru, but nothing compared to that ride through the Chilcotins. When we finally landed on Spruce Lake 10 minutes later, none of us wanted to get out, even though we had an epic 5-hour ride to come. The flight was that good.
But exit we did. And after putting together our bikes and battling through a few kilometres of swampy trail (it's been a wet, wet fall in BC), we got to the goods: expansive alpine meadows, massive mountains, and velvety-smooth singletrack. This trail was the stuff of legend, the trail that you keep returning to in your mountain bike dreams. We flew down it one by one, railing the switchback corners and hammering the straightaways until we reached Gun Creek road 5 hours later, totally exhausted and totally satiated.
Day 10 - Whistler (well, almost)
Day 10 was supposed to be a drive to Whistler to ride the big epic Comfortably Numb. But once again the weather had other plans, so we scooted right past Whistler, straight to the Sushi restaurants of Vancouver and some couch-surfing at Ian's place.
Good laughs were had all around as we recapped an amazing mountain bike trip, spanning 1,000 kilometres of BC, 5 deluxe lodges, one houseboat, 2 hotsprings, 1 aborted sweatlodge, some 200 km of singletrack and 7 pretty damn lucky riders.
Once again, I think I have the coolest job in the world. And I hope to ride with you someday to show you why.
Mike
Ask me to name my top 3 mountain bike rides - ever - and I'd be hard-pressed to come up with just 3. When your living involves finding the best rides in the world, they all tend to blend into one, magnificent whole. But once in a while something comes along that stands out so clearly, a ride that begs superlatives like 'best ever.' Yesterday's ride was one of them.
After an hour of climbing, we stopped in a small village to have a snack and get out of the increasingly vigorous rain. As we waited the rain out, two small children came up to us, curious about these strangers in their midst. I guess they were about 4 or 5, one boy and a girl. They were the cutest children I think I've ever seen. More superlatives.
We followed a riverbed up a valley, looking for a way to cross to the other side, where an ancient Inca ruin sat on top of a hillside, our ultimate goal. The trail was beautiful: smooth, sweet singletrack, perfect for cross-country riding. After a half hour of climbing, we realized that there probably was no bridge and we would have to return back down and ford the river. The descent was all hoots and hollers, eyes glued to the narrow trail. The trail was only about a foot and a half wide, with a neat little dropoff on the right. We reached a small farm and asked the owner how to get across. He pointed down to the river, looking at us like we were loco.
The ruins, Wayo told me, were the home of the first Inca king. They are over 1,000 years old. I ran my fingers over the rock walls, imagining life here a millenium ago. There was still hemp rope holding together wooden beams, and some of the structures looked like they could have been built last week. Chalk one up for Inca ingenuity.
After a few minutes we reached the trail, screaming alongside houses and farms and terraces. We rode down a hundred-metre-long staircase that predated Columbus by about 500 years. Then we reached the terraces. The trail on top of our terrace was intermittently smooth and technical, perfect for a couple of cross-country freeriders. Sheep dotted the terraces and cows mooed in the distance. We seemed to be the only people in the valley. My skin shivered with glee.
