SPRUCE LAKE OVER WARNER PASS
After getting floatplane arrangements out of the way we headed to the dock, took front wheels off bikes and waited for the De Havilland DHC-2 Beaver to arrive for the morning’s first flight. I’ve been to a lot of places in various modes of transport but seeing a floatplane touchdown on a glassy British Columbia lake just seemed to bring out the feeling of adventure in a big way. We flew in two trips up to Spruce Lake, flying over the exact scenery and singletrack we’d later be riding.
We touched down and gathered our kit then settled into the saddle for the day along the valley floor towards Warner Lake and the eponymous pass above it, and the inevitable hike-a-bike over it.
The racers headed off at a pace that quickly had me and my camera-laden body on the ropes, forcing me into calling out perhaps a few more photo stops than absolutely necessary – stunning scenery notwithstanding – just so I could catch my breath and get the heart rate down in order to make the entire three days. After some singletrack and the odd map/direction check we had lunch alongside Hummingbird Lake and compared each other’s provisions. After admiring and admonishing some of the culinary choices, recharged and refuelled we headed for the pass.
Hike-a-bikes are an inevitable part of any backcountry experience and I’ve done my fair share; normally I just get on with the job and pace myself to the top. But this 2.5-hour effort took a toll far worse than others. This group of racers were on a different program to me and I quickly lost sight of them over the exposed boulder fields. I was left alone taking a long hard look at my fitness levels and motivation to go on.
But where was I going to go? I was in this for three days no matter how crap my legs or back felt. After a few more self-doubting moments (well, a lot), I crested the pass to find the group looking out into a view I will remember for a long time. Endless rows of ranges receding into the distance for what seemed forever. Punishment/reward, suffering/bliss, pain/relief… You know, that kind of thing.
After almost eight hours on and off the bike, plus the obligatory photo calls in this most epic of scenes, we hit the trail for another 30 minutes of sublime singletrack to find our first campsite and get set up before the approaching sunset.
After bathing, supper and some initial concerns over bears and other things that go bump in the night we all got a good sleep, dreaming of what the new day would bring, a day in which we would have not one, but two passes to cross.
The tequila was left untouched; I passed out long before needing its help in falling asleep on my slowly-deflating bedroll.
