"Cracking 40 on the TCT" : Arlington Lk to Hydraulic Lk

The quiet was broken around 6:00 am by the sound of gun shots in the woods across the lake.  It felt far too cold to get up, so we stayed in the mostly warm cocoon of our sleeping bags for a few minutes longer.  When we finally braved the cold and damp outside the tent we were greeted with a beautiful sight.  Mist was rising and swirling in thick white bands above the lake.  Two fishermen were already out in a canoe on the far end of the lake, their gentle progress barely creating any disturbance on the smooth surface of the dark water.

It took us a while to pack up our sodden gear with frozen fingers.  Just as we were finishing up, we heard the telltale throb of the two helicopters returning to fill up with water on their way to fight the forest fire 3 km away. They were flying very low over the campground and trail, one dangling an orange bucket that it carefully lowered into the lake to fill.  Black smoke trailed after the bucket as it took off again.  The other had a short hose hanging beneath which it used to fill the belly of the aircraft.  It took the helicopters only a few short minutes to return after each refill, making us realize just how close the blaze must be.

We checked the BC Wildfire app and saw no change in the status of the size or designation of the fire.  It was a crystal clear morning with no visible smoke and no wind at all, so we decided somewhat uneasily to continue walking forward, at least until we were instructed not to.

We followed the trail along the shore of Arlington Lake, the sun rising above the forested slopes on the far side and offering some much appreciated warmth.  The trail was a corridor of dense conifers on both sides.  Over the past few weeks, every day when the sun is up and the temperatures have risen into the mid 20's, we deeply appreciate the shade this trail provides.  However, in the mornings, when our fingers and toes are frozen and everything is soaking wet, we find ourselves feeling like traitors as we wish for exposed, sunny stretches where we can bask in the warmth of the emerging sun.

The trail climbed steadily as it ran along the edge of the improbably named Nipple Mountain.  Below us a forested valley stretched out, the brilliant yellow of the trembling aspens creating bright spots along the valley floor.  Beyond the first ridge of dark green trees we could see the faint outlines and shapes of a second range of hills.

For the first hour we were accompanied by the helicopters who were flying back and forth along the valley beside us.  It was a very unnerving feeling to know we were walking towards a fire.  Suddenly we rounded a bend and watched as one of the helicopters dropped its load of water on the hillside opposite.  Smoke was gently rising from a small patch of forest, with larger white plumes rising just after the water dropped.  Thankfully it seemed like a very small fire!  We paused for a minute to watch the firefighters at work, and then continued on, feeling relieved to at last be heading away from the danger.

The rest of the day was largely uneventful, and consisted mostly of steadily climbing upwards on a forested gravel track with the hillside rising abruptly to one side and descending very steeply on the other.  One of the things that stood out about today was the frequent rock and mud slides that occurred along the trail.  In each case the trail had been cleared, but it was evident that a lot of debris must fall each year.

 

The guidebook suggested that we should have passed the remains of several water tanks and old wooden station buildings over the course of the day, but we failed to see any of these landmarks apart from one shed that had been completely flattened. Cookson Station was one such place where we failed to find any evidence of the railway's past.  We did however cross a very tall culvert over the dry creek bed, and we could see bits of the original trestle dropped over the edge far below.

As the kilometres ticked by we talked a lot about our hike in BC, and what comes next.  In some ways the end of this east-west journey seems so close, and in others, it seems to keep getting farther away.  There are around 1600 km of trail on the east-west branch of the Trans Canada Trail in BC – a distance that is approximately twice the width of trekking across the county of Spain.  If we walked about 25 km per day, we should have walked across the province in about 64 days, or two months.  We've faced quite a few challenges in the last month, but it seems that no matter how far we walk, we never get closer to the end. We've now walked half way across the province, and we still have 40 days of walking left.  How is this even possible?  On this roundabout trail it should be two steps forward and one step back, but it feels like the opposite.  Today the main issue is how to crack 40 days left on the TCT from the Atlantic to the Pacific?

By early afternoon we came to the turnoff for Idabel.  The dirt road crossing had several signs advertising a store with ice cream, which in the hot afternoon sun was very tempting.  However, it was just over 3 km to the community of Idabel, and there was no guarantee the store would actually be open, or have any ice cream or other snacks left this late in the season.  In the past few grocery stores we've visited, even in the larger towns, there has been very little of anything left on the shelves.  As a result, we decided to continue on along our treed pathway.

Although this section of the KVR is posted as being for non-motorized use only, we were passed by two motorbikes early in the morning.  The first slowed down for us and said something as he passed which we failed to hear, but which sounded friendly, the second stopped and told us to “go F... ourselves.  This is a mo’biking trail no hiking trail!”  He gave us the finger and raced off. A bit later on, two ATVs came down the trail at very high speed, and passed us without slowing down at all or giving any kind of acknowledgement.  When they returned a few hours later they rounded a bend and sped past once again, covering us in dust and fumes.  If we hadn't stepped off the trail there would have been no way they could have safely stopped or avoided us. 

The TCT Guidebook for British Columbia suggests one piece of advice for any hiker or cyclist on this trail - avoid wearing headphones or listening to music, because it is imperative to be able to hear ATVs coming and get well out of the way before they arrive. We heartily second this advice.

Pointedly there are stickers and graffiti along this section which note that both hikers and cyclists are not wanted here.  All non-motorized signs are shot out, ATV barriers have been moved, and there are stickers everywhere noting “no hiking, mo’biking” (as in motorbiking).

Apart from these somewhat unfortunate encounters, we didn't see anyone else on the trail until just before we reached Hydraulic Lake. We passed a large open area filled with young pines that had been burned in the devastating forest fires that ravaged this area in 2003, and then we caught a glimpse of Summer Lake through the trees. Suddenly a man with an orange cap appeared ahead of us on the trail, riding a bicycle with a rifle over his shoulder and a hunting dog at his side.  As suddenly as he'd appeared he disappeared.

When we drew closer to the edge of the lake we realized there was a small home tucked along the shore, protected by a 10 ft tall chain link fence with barbed wire on top, a security camera, and about 15 'No Trespassing' signs. The vehemence of the defences made us wonder what was going on.  Just past the compound there was a wooden gazebo with a view of the small lake and the marsh. As we stopped for a moment looking for birds the owner of this property watched us through the sights of his rifle – not a very welcoming spot to wait in.  Although the forested pond was bordered with cattails there were no ducks or shorebirds in sight – and so we quickly moved on being rifle scoped from behind by an older gentleman closely watching us.

It was another few kilometres before we came to a large trailhead with information for the Kettle Valley Rail Trail.  The plaque was located at the entrance to the Hydraulic Lake Recreation Site, where we planned to camp for the night, and it provided information on Andrew McCulloch.  As we stood there 3 ATVs raced by with each driver giving us the finger as they raced past.

Andrew McCulloch was born in Lanark County, Ontario in 1864, and after moving west and working several jobs along railways, he was appointed the Chief Engineer for the CPR's Kettle Valley Railway.  The steep and difficult terrain made construction of this line one of the most challenging projects of his career.  The Trans Continental Railway had already been completed, but a second route was needed north of the Canada-US border to transport the large amounts of ore discovered in southern British Columbia.  McCulloch determined that the shortest and most economical route from Midway to Penticton would go through Hydraulic Summit. 

The terrain to the west of this point proved to be unexpectedly challenging, requiring a magnificent feat of engineering.  McCulloch solved the problem of getting the trains down to the shores of Okanagan Lake in Penticton without exceeding a 2.2% grade by building multiple trestles and tunnels in Myra and Bellevue Canyons, as well as a huge switchback above Naramata with a nearly circular tunnel.  To achieve this engineering feat he drew on previous experience he gained during construction of the spiral tunnels near Field, BC.

After learning about the coming attractions ahead on the trail, we followed the dirt road into the campground, which was a large, open, grassy area with small campsites located around the edges.  The campground is on the edge of the lake, which offers a sandy beach and provides a source of very green, algae rich water.  It is a first come first serve campground, and when we arrived it was a little over half full.  We chose a site, paid the very friendly host the $15 dollar fee, and set about trying to dry our soaking wet tent and gear.  The sun was fading fast, and I'm sorry to say, our efforts were only partially successful.  Sliding into our sleeping bags was like entering a small swamp :(

As we filtered the lake water to make dinner we listened to a constant stream of ATVs racing up and down the trail, doing a circuit around the campground, and then heading back out onto the trail.  It made us unenthusiastic about what conditions await us on the trail tomorrow.  It seems that the cycling and hiking season on the trail is done for the year, so perhaps this is why there are more ATVs using it.  Or, perhaps it is just because it is a Saturday night.

As I lay here - at 1 am - listening to the generators running in the RVs around us, the radio playing at a campsite on our right, and the TV playing somewhere to our left, I realize that our time on the trail has left me wishing for a peace and quiet in nature that cannot often be found around other humans.  I enjoy the sounds of campfires, voices, and the laughter of those around us, but the constant noise of electronics and machinery is something I will never enjoy hearing in the outdoors.

See you on the trail!

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