From Dawn to Dusk : Beyond Summerland to Bankeir

We knew today would be a very long one for us, so despite yesterday's late arrival, we were up and ready to go before the sun came up.  At this time of year that isn't quite as impressive as it sounds, but packing up and getting underway before 5 am is no mean feat when it everything is soaking wet and freezing cold.

We walked for the first couple of hours in almost complete darkness, a heavy layer of clouds delaying the much anticipated daylight even longer than usual.  In our first hour on the Trans Canada Trail we passed by the sleeping community of Faulder, where a street crossing and a few lights shining through the trees were the only hint of its presence.  This is the end point of the heritage Kettle Valley Steam Railway excursion and sightseeing trains.

It began to really get light around the time we reached the Crump Recreational Site.  This large camping area was located somewhere up above us on the steep slope, accessible by a steep, sandy, trail that seemed to go straight up the valley wall.  Somehow I don't think we would have made that steep climb yesterday evening even if we had made it to that point! 

There was a large, new, curved wooden kiosk at the junction with the trail up to the recreation site.  It had a map and information on the history of Crump Station, which was active from 1951-1965.  The station was named after Thomas Huntley Crump, a railway worker and the father of Norris R. Crump who later became a president of the CPR.  Thomas Crump immigrated to Alberta from England, and gradually worked his way up through the CPR from track labourer, to brakeman, to supervisor of train operations in Field, BC, where he met Andrew McCulloch.

Crump Station had a railway siding that was originally used to load logs and lumber from the nearby Trout Creek Timber Limited mill, which was owned by a California company.  The station was on the main KVR line, and operations in the area were challenging, with rock slides and washouts on the tracks requiring frequent repairs.  In winter large amounts of snow required the use of a huge rotary plow to keep the tracks open.

As we continued northward the sandy gravel track ran closely beside Trout Creek.  Its shallow, crystal clear waters babbled and sang in its narrow, winding, rocky bed.  Both the creek and the trail were running along the bottom of a deep ravine with thickly forested slopes.  Tall conifers and trembling aspens provided shade, and a carpet of yellow leaves blanketed the ground and floated down the stream beside us.  Soon we passed a small wooden footbridge over the creek, which we took a moment to enjoy.

It was a very cool morning, and clouds were scudding across the pale blue sky with enormous speed.  We were grateful for the small patches of sunshine which managed to spread a small degree of warmth into our chilly fingers and toes.  The fall colours were brilliant, with the yellows and bright reds of the aspens and underbrush glowing in the overcast morning.  However, we began to notice that more leaves had fallen than were still clinging to the branches, and the wind had a definite bite to it that suggested an immanent turn in the season.

We could feel the trail climbing once again, making an ascent to the summit of near 1000 m elevation near Osprey Lake.  As we climbed it was easy to see some of the problems encountered by the CPR.  Large boulders and many smaller rocks were lying at the bottom of steep, crumbling, sandy slopes.  The trail had been cleared or rerouted around these boulders, but there were many sections that were affected.

The bottom of the valley was clearly being used as ranch land, and we could see cow pats and hoof prints along the trail and smell the musky, unmistakable smell of cattle.  However, it wasn't until a couple hours into our hike that we spotted a large black and white cow standing on the edge of the trail.  We spoke softly to her as we approached, and soon discovered she was grazing with a small group of other ladies.

Not too long after this we crossed the first of several very fancy trestle bridges today.  The beds of these trestles looked like they might have been constructed from the original train trestles, but each one had new looking railings. The creek flowed through below that first bridge underneath at the bottom of a surprisingly deep gorge.

As we rounded a curve with a steep rock wall on our left and a steep drop down to the river on the right, we came to what looked like the entrance to an old mine shaft.  The narrow slit was tilted sideways, as if the door had slid off kilter, and the wood reinforced tunnel would have been barely wide enough for me squeeze through.  I stuck my head inside for a look, but the rocky shaft was blocked.

When we came to the far edge of the curve we saw a sign indicating that there was a crew working on the trail ahead.  We had been noticing that the trail was newly graded, and that a wide, deep, ditch had been scraped clean on the mountain side of the trail.  Sure enough, we soon came to a large machine that was grading the trail, scraping it clean, and knocking over trees to clear the edges of the road.  The smell of rich, wet, earth and fir trees filled our noses as we waited for the 'go ahead' from the two workers to continue onward.

Not long after the construction work we came to a sign for the Trout Creek Ranch Shared Use Park.  A very sandy, rocky track led off the trail to a rest area with a covered metal shelter, a pit toilet, and a metal fire ring.  We sat on the wooden bench inside the roofed shelter, grateful to the Vermilion Trails Society, Summerland ATV Club, Osprey Snow Wheelers Club, Similkameen Valley Riders ATV Club, and the Princeton ATV Club for the chance to sit down and take shelter from the cold wind.

When we continued on down the sandy trail the views to our left opened up, revealing a large, flat, grassy meadow extending along the length of the river valley. It was filled with cattle, their black and white coats contrasting beautifully with the golden and yellow grasses of their pasture.  A picnic table and fire pit has been placed at the side of the trail, shaded by the tall pines and with a gorgeous view out over the valley.

As the afternoon progressed we began to notice more and more clouds rolling in above the forested slopes around us.  A few flakes of snow had been idly falling when we set out, and we'd seen raindrops descending through the sunshine as the weather shifted and changed.  Now we were beginning to see storm clouds move in, and the forested hills around us took on a layered look as they disappeared behind curtains of rain. The higher peaks were covered in a dusting of snow.

As we watched the dramatic looking weather patterns around us we felt fortunate to have a patch of bright, warm, sunshine directly above us.  We came to a wooden fence post on the edge of the trail with Thirsk Lake written on it.  At one point we had been thinking of stopping to camp there.  Although the pines and grassy patches on either side of the trail offered wonderful camping opportunities, there was no water, and we couldn't even see Thirsk Lake from the trail, let alone get water from it.  Good thing we had decided to push on.

Next, the trail took us to a small community of homes and RVs tucked up into the trees on the slope above us.  One large A-frame home stood out, with a huge bank of windows looking out over the valley.  It looked like a peaceful, quiet, and beautiful spot to live, but we wondered if there would be any possibility of coming or going during the winter months, or if the winding dirt road would simply disappear under thick drifts of snow until spring.

One of the highlights in this section was a bank of rocks that had been painted with animals.  A small blue turtle and an orange squirrel were joined by a blue bird and several green deer.  Just as we were stopping to admire the artwork, a mother mule deer and her two offspring wandered onto the trail and stopped in a line to stare at us.  Sadly, they took off up the slope before Sean could photograph them.

Shortly after Thirsk our luck ran out.  The trail took us out onto the wide, level, hard packed Princeton-Summerland Rd.  As we followed the edge of it past a huge concrete dam and then around the edge of a reservoir with very low water levels, it began to pour.  Not only that, but the wind kicked up, driving the rain into our faces.  We quickly put on our pack covers and full rain gear before continuing on, fighting a driving headwind as we did so. Within minutes we were soaked head to toe.

We followed the road for a couple kilometres at most, being passed by one small white car only.  It continued to pour on us until we regained the sandy ATV track.  At that point it just began to drizzle, and thankfully the trees on both sides of the trail provided some shelter from the wind.

Although we were wet, cold, climbing, and facing a strong wind, we managed to appreciate how the rain really brought out the colours in everything. There were brilliant yellow, red, and green pebbles on the trail that seemed to glow.  Rock faces beside the trail also shone in the dim light, and the autumn leaves provided cheerful accents against the dark green, forested slopes.

Our goal for tonight was the small community of Bankier, which we knew was a few kilometres past Osprey Lake.  It seemed like no matter how far we walked, Osprey Lake never got any closer.  As it began to rain harder again we passed a small pond, its dark black waters pock marked with rain drops.  We crossed another trestle bridge.  We passed marshes with brilliant yellow shrubs.  Nothing seemed to bring us any closer to our goal.

Finally we came to Trout Creek Main, where the remains of the foundation for an old water tower sat beside the trail.  A pit toilet was also provided, and a sign listing the distances to various points ahead.  Bankier was still 5.1 km away.

We followed a long, straight stretch of trail that had been thoroughly churned up and wash boarded by ATVs.  It felt like walking on a rolling beach.  Thankfully, not too long after this, we finally came to Osprey Lake!

The far shore of the long, shallow lake was lined with homes, cabins, and cottages.  We could see canoes and kayaks stacked outside some of them, and a group of intrepid people were sitting around a campfire on the beach behind one of the cabins.  Small homes also extended a ways up the forested slopes around the lake, and we spotted the Osprey Lake Recreation Site on the far shore.

There were benches located along the shore of the lake, a small treed spot for fishing or swimming, and eventually we came to a lovely little wooden gazebo.  We took a break for a few minutes, and stopped to read some of the rock art placed outside the pleasant resting spot.

Before the age of mechanical refrigeration, large amounts of ice were harvested from Osprey Lake by hand during the winter months.  They were transported by the Kettle Valley Railway and stored in blocks packed in sawdust in insulated ice houses in Penticton.  The ice was used during the summer months to cool the reefer cars transporting fruit and to supply air conditioning for the passenger cars on the CPR trains.

Wearily we continued on, eventually coming to the end of the lake.  A wooden sign advertised an art gallery down 'Wong Way,' which intersected 'Right Way.' Our trail continued on, apparently following the 'Right Way.'  Even though we had passed Osprey Lake, small homes and cottages continued to be tucked into the trees on either side of the trail.

We passed Link Lake on our left, and got a beautiful view of the pale yellow sun trying to set under a bank of dark clouds.  Finally, as the light was already beginning to fade once again we came to a road crossing with a sign for Bankier, and right across from that we saw the Trailside Cabins.  We had reached our goal for the night!

With the rain all day, and the very real possibility of snow tonight, we had decided to stay inside a warm, wooden cabin for the night.  The owners were amazing, and the cabin is incredibly spacious and beautiful inside.  We have spent a lovely evening in the warmth, drying out our soaking wet clothes and tent, and sitting at a table to eat our meal. With another long day tomorrow (around 40 km), we deeply appreciate the ability to sleep tonight rather than shivering in the cold until morning.  Today we walked from before dawn until dusk, and tomorrow will likely be the same.  

Looking at the Weather Network and the trail conditions in front of us over the next few days the message is clear – winter is coming and we now must move quicker.

See you on the trail!

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