Midway and the KVR : Greenwood to Rock Creek

Today was extremely frustrating, unnerving, longer than predicted, and not what we expected, but it also contained great beauty, and as always, things ultimately worked out.  But let's backtrack to the beginning, which was excellent.  As we headed out of Greenwood it was a very chilly morning, and it took very little convincing to duck into Mama's Pacific Grill for a breakfast of hot coffee, homemade omelettes, hash browns, and toast.  It was a delicious feast, but afterwards we were more inclined to have a nap than strap on heavy packs and start walking.

On the way back to the rail trail we crossed over Boundary Creek, the clear waters looking like liquid gold as they reflected the early morning sunshine and the bright yellows of the aspen leaves above.  It was difficult to believe that the small, seemingly inconspicuous creek could have been so important to the history of the region.

On the edge of town the Trans Canada Trail passed the tall brick smokestack that appears in Greenwood's insignia, and in much of the artwork associated with the town.  This historic landmark was part of the smelter, which was built by the British Columbia Copper Company in 1898.  This New York based company bought the nearby Mother Lode mine in that year, and built the smelter on a 28 ha site at the mouth of Copper Creek in the town called Anaconda, just on the edge of Greenwood.

The smelter operated from 1901 to 1918, when shortages of ore caused it to close.  During its peak it operated 24 hours per day, it employed over 400 men, and it processed up to 416 tonnes of ore per year.  When the plant closed in 1918 it was sold to Leon Lotzkar who disposed of the machinery, and later donated the site to the city of Greenwood.  Today, this smokestack is one of the only remaining structures of its kind left in BC.

Slag from the smelter was piled up nearby in huge mounds that are still visible today.  Waste was taken from the smelter by rail in 25 tonne bell-shaped slag cars, and dumped on the nearby pile.  The waste slag glowed red in the dark when freshly deposited, but it now resembles a black, shiny, moonscape.  Scattered along the top of the glassy black slag piles are 'hell's bells' which are shiny, black, bell-shaped pieces of slag.

Near the base of the multi story tall slag pile and smokestack we also passed the West Kootenay Power Building, another heritage structure constructed in 1905.  The red brick building had numerous small structures attached to the outside that resembled large birdhouses, but were actually designed to protect the electric system's insulators.

After passing these historic landmarks, we followed the trail beyond the city limits, following a grassy track past small homes lining the shores of Boundary Creek.  Eventually the homes petered out, and we found ourselves walking through dry grassy fields and pine forests.  Yellow leaves from trembling aspens fell like golden rain, carpeting the trail in a layer of crunchy debris.

Soon we came to Boundary Creek Provincial Park, which we recognized from the picnic tables and fire pits tucked into the trees on the far side of Boundary Creek.  Apparently this provincial park offers overnight camping, as well as access to the creek, where patient anglers can catch rainbow and brook trout.

We followed the gravel path among sun soaked fields of waist high grass.  To our right the hills rose up against a clear blue sky, the craggy grey rocks at their centre breaking through the covering of dry, golden grasses.  Occasionally, conifers would provide shade and add a measure of dark green to the landscape.

About an hour after leaving Greenwood we came to Boundary Falls.  Little more than a small group of homesteads, hobby farms, and trailers marked the spot where once a thriving community existed.  Boundary Falls was settled in 1890 by a group of miners, who built a smelter that was completed in 1901.  However, it didn't even last a year before it was 'blown in' by high operating costs, coke shortages, financial difficulties, and low copper prices.  A small slag pile was visible beside the trail, but otherwise the community faded away without leaving many lasting traces behind.

Shortly after Boundary Falls, the rail trail began to parallel Highway 3 more closely.  We continued along in a tunnel of pines, the trail coated in a thick, soft layer of rich brown needles.  We were grateful for the shade, and for being separated from the traffic on the busy highway.

Soon we spotted a historic plaque and an interpretive sign at a 'Point of Interest' across the highway.  Sean went to investigate, and found a plaque outlining the history of the Boundary Falls smelter, and information on the Dewdney Trail, which we first crossed a few days ago when we left Christina Lake.

Just past Boundary Falls we came to a picnic table under a lovely wooden shelter.  It was tucked into the trees at the side of the trail, and offered a lovely spot to take a break.  We took a few minutes to rest in the shade, and ate some of the cold buttered toast we had left over from breakfast.

The next section of trail climbed up above the highway, but still ran very close beside it.  We passed several small hobby farms with horses near Jolly Jack Creek, and then came back to the road.  Someone had taken the time to create artwork out of piled stones and bits of rusted iron from the railway.  Quite a few stone arches had been carefully constructed along the edge of the trail in this section.

As we were trekking along we suddenly scared up a family of California Quails from the grasses at the edge of the trail.  There must have been close to a dozen juveniles!  They scattered, then flew in a group down the trail before doubling back and landing among the grasses beside us once again.  We were a bit surprised at how small the young were so late in the season, but we'd just spotted a family of Ruffed Grouse which also included a group of very young juveniles.  This was exciting, because it was a new bird species for our #Hike4Birds!

As we walked towards Midway we soon found ourselves in a dry, desert-like landscape.  It bore no resemblance to the lush, coastal rainforest, the lodgepole pine covered mountain slopes, or the ski hills of the Rocky Mountains that I think many people who are not from BC associate with this province.  It was a dry, leathery, spiky, environment dominated by browns, yellows, reds, and dark greens.

We stopped for a moment to admire a mule deer tucked into the grasses at the edge of the trail, enjoying the warm sunshine.  Then we picked up our pace a little because this was the big day we've been waiting for, when we could finally pick up our supply box with Sean's replacement shoes in Midway.  However, the post office there closes for a 1 hour lunch break at 12:30 pm, so we wanted to get there beforehand.  We made it with 15 minutes to spare, and headed to the nearby park and campground to unpack our newfound riches.  So far so good, but then ... the wrong size!!!  After wasting three days waiting for the post office to re-open after the Thanksgiving holiday, we discovered the new shoes ordered through Amazon were the wrong size.  Apparently they were a substitution for the ordered size and the pair sent are way, way too small for Sean to use them.  With 5 minutes left before the post office closed, we shot back inside to return them.  It is difficult to describe just exactly how frustrating this experience was.  His shoes are really and truly unfit to keep wearing – after now trekking more than 3000 km in - and yet again, he has no choice.

We returned to the shaded picnic table in the grassy park, where an information plaque indicated that Midway is another town closely tied to the mining boom and railway construction in the Boundary Region.  The CPR's Columbia and Western Railway reached Midway in 1900, and the Great Northern Railway's Vancouver, Victoria & Eastern Railway reached the town five years later.  During construction, five hotels were operating in Midway, as well as a post office, school, and police station.  The population swelled to 700 people in 1895, but had decreased to around 100 by 1910. Today it is once again around 610 people, with forestry and agriculture the main industries.  Interestingly, there is no concrete explanation for the name, but it is generally accepted that it is a reference to the approximate location of the town midway between the Pacific Ocean and the Rocky Mountains.  The thought that we might now be halfway across this province is only half comforting.

Eventually we decided to pull ourselves together and get on with it after the resupply disaster.  We stopped at the grocery store, hoping to supplement our meals and granola bars for the coming four days, but found the store very nearly empty.  Disappointed, we made our way back through the town, crossed the very busy highway, and walked down to the Kettle River Museum. 

The Kettle River Museum is located in the old railway station, and it is one of the more notable landmarks in the small town. The train station was relocated to the side of the highway by the last station master, and it now sits behind a white picket fence and under a large tree purportedly planted by the station master's wife.  Various railway carriages are visible in the yard of the museum, and a large mural decorates the back wall with the words 'KVR Mile 0.'

The mural is a reference to the fact that Midway marks the beginning, or Mile 0, of the famous Kettle Valley Rail Trail.  This 365 km long multi-use recreational rail trail connects Midway to Hope, with a branch down to Osoyoos, and a connection to Castlegar on the Columbia and Western Rail Trail.  The most popular part of the KVR is the Myra Canyon Trestles, a 12.8 km section which takes up to 50,000 cyclists and hikers per year over 18 wooden trestles and through two tunnels in Myra Canyon above the city of Kelowna.  The Trans Canada Trail follows this world renowned cycling trail from KVR to Hope.

We had just experienced the extremely frustrating part of our day, and we were about to find the unexpected.  We followed the rail trail for about 50 m past the museum, and then crossed over the highway. That short section of level gravel trail was almost the only section of 'rail trail' we walked on for the remainder of the day.  The trail was gorgeous, but it didn't actually follow the old rail bed at all.  This was the unexpected part of the day, as the name 'rail trail' had conjured imagines of a wide, level, hard packed gravel rail grade.

After crossing the highway we passed by an auto wreckers, the old rusty vehicles slowly sinking into the weeds outside.   Next, the dirt path crossed a grassy field and then wove around the outskirts of the active Pope and Talbot lumber mill.  What looked like a 20 ft tall pile of firewood extended along the edge of the track for several hundred meters before we came to the lumber yard, where skids of 2x4s were piled high, with a large heap of wood chips rising up beyond them.  It felt like a bit of an inauspicious beginning to the much anticipated cycling trail.

After passing the mill we came to a small rest area and trail head at the edge of the Kettle River.  We could just see the shallow green waters flowing slowly past through the tall pines that bordered its banks.  On the far side of its meandering waters forested slopes rose steeply upwards. Somewhere along their dark and rocky banks, or up at their peaks, was the Canada - US border and Washington State.  We hadn't been that close to the international boundary since the Trans Canada Trail brought us to Emerson, Manitoba which sits just north of the border between Minnesota and North Dakota.

For the next hour or so the trail kept us between the river and the highway.  A hard packed dirt ATV track lead us through tall, dry grasses, and among small stands of conifers and trembling aspens.  Several cattle gates had to be opened and closed at the edges of grassy pastures and hay fields as we made our way along, passing a handful of hobby farms and homesteads tucked into the trees along the riverbank.

Just as we came to another trailhead with a map of the Kettle Valley Rail Trail we spotted a large, black, furry animal on the trail ahead.  It took a second look to realize it was an enormous and very friendly dog.   When we spoke to the owner a few minutes later he said that from a distance it took him a few moments to figure out what we were too, with our large packs strapped onto our backs.

As we continued on under the tall pines, following the river, the highway rose up high above us.  The slope beside us was steep and rocky, and in places quite crumbly.  The hot sun was filtering down through the pines, warming the rocks and creating a hot, dry, spicy smell of pine sap and needles.

To Sean's horror we came to the first of several signs in this stretch warning that 'Rattlesnakes Live Here.'  We proceeded with caution, trying to remember the advice from previous info plaques which stated that it is best to step around logs and rocks and not over them, and keeping a close watch in the tall, dry grasses that bordered the narrow earth footpath.

Suddenly we spotted a huge snake skin that had been discarded by its owner halfway into a hole beneath a rock.  I have no idea if it belonged to a rattle snake or not, but the part we could see was over 2.5 ft long, thick, and it looked like it was less than half the snake!  The impressive skin certainly belonged to the largest reptile I've ever seen outside of a zoo.

Around 3:30 pm we came to the Ingram Bridge, which took cars over the river and the trail on Highway 3.  The metal structure underneath the flat span had been painted a bright, lemon yellow, giving it a cheery feel.  On the far side was a campground with a few sites stretched along the riverbank.  It looked quite nice, but sadly we soon discovered it was already closed for the season, and would not be our stopping point for the night.

We took a snack break in the shade of the bridge, and took the opportunity to call the campgrounds up ahead in Rock Creek once again.  There are three of them listed near the town - one at the fairgrounds, one at Rock Creek Station, and the Rock Creek Riverside Campground at the far end of town.  None of them were answering the phone or email, leading us to worry they were already closed for the season.  There was still no answer, so we had to carry on, simply hoping for the best and keeping an eye open for potential spots to random camp along the way.

The next stretch of trail was a rough, earth footpath that led us through ranches and small farms.  We followed the banks of the river, enjoying the gorgeous green, gold, and bright blue reflections in the smooth surface of the shallow river.  We could see small homes, RVs, and cottages stretched along the opposite side of the waterway.  On our side pastures extended outwards, a few of them filled with black and rusty red cattle.  Beyond the light, bleached blond fields the dark forested slopes of the Granby Range rose up under a bright blue sky.

The path in this section did not follow the rail bed.  It was a dirt footpath that in places was a bit uneven and overgrown with grasses.  We dipped through small, rocky streambeds that I suspect would have been full of water in spring, and in places I think the trail itself could have been quite muddy and wet at certain times of year.  In other places small rock slides threatened to encroach on the trail, and as we swished through the tall grasses.  The area was absolutely full of clicking and rattling grasshoppers, so it did nothing to boost our confidence when we came to another sign indicating rattlesnakes lived there. This was the slightly unnerving part of the day.

As the afternoon wore on and the temperatures began to dip we came to the end of the ranch land and found ourselves walking along a quiet, two-lane paved road.  Evidently a section of the trail had been claimed by a private landowner, which meant we had to box 7km on the paved road through Rock Creek.  It wasn't a busy road, and it was quick and easy going through a rural landscape of forest stands and fields, some of which seemed to be growing turf.  We even spotted a small flock of Mountain Bluebirds perched on the fence posts at the edge of a field. Again, we found ourselves enjoying the scenery, but were more than a little surprised to be on the road rather than a rail trail.

The last kilometres into Rock Creek seemed to last forever.  We came to the fairgrounds, only to find them deserted, fenced off, and with the gates closed.  That would explain the lack of response from the campground.  We continued onward down the forested road which was firmly posted with 'No Trespassing' signs along its length.  No opportunity to stop there.  As we approached Rock Creek we passed an abandoned sawmill that seemed to have people living in or beside it.  The RVs and small shacks around it seemed to lend a rather desolate feel to the area.

When we finally reached the campground at Rock Creek station it was getting dark.  A sign indicated that the water had been shut off in the campground, but that campers could register before 5:30 pm.  As we turned down the drive the owner who watched us walk up flipped the sign in the window to 'Closed' and shut off the lights. It seemed like a very unfriendly welcome to Rock Creek, but perhaps they just didn't realize that we hoped to camp as it was becoming dusk.

As the light faded and the temperatures continued to drop we headed across the bridge towards the town, making our way towards the lights at the Rock Creek Hotel and Pub.  There were no rooms, but we stepped inside with our packs to warm up, get a bite to eat, and decide what to do.  The staff was very friendly, and to our delight there were two cats that called the restaurant home, making their way among the tables and asking to be petted.

As we ate, several people came up and asked about our hike.  One lady asked if we had a place to stay for the night, and when we said not yet, she offered us accommodation in a lovely cabin just up the hill behind the pub.  We were so incredibly grateful to be warm and dry for a night, and to not have to walk on in the dark to look for somewhere to stop!

Although we didn't see much of Rock Creek in the dark, hopefully we can explore a little more in the morning.  Rock Creek was started in 1859 when gold was discovered in the nearby creek.  This triggered a placer mining gold rush, during which the stream bed was mined for precious minerals.  By 1860 many log buildings had been established that housed stores and saloons, a hotel had been established, and prospectors' tents lined the creek for many kilometres, making Rock Creek one of the oldest communities in the boundary region.  In 1860 the first customs post outside of the colonial capital of New Westminster was established to collect taxes on imports and royalties on exports to the US.

A reliable road to this new community was needed, and the Dewdney Trail only reached as far as the Similkameen Valley.  In January of 1861 Dewdney and Moberly won their contract to extend the Dewdney Trail to Rock Creek, but when they reached it in August of that year the boom was already done and the prospectors were gone.  When the Kettle Valley Railway reached the town in 1911 it brought new life along with it. 

So, another day on the Trans Canada Trail has come to an end.  Although we are now very tired and getting increasingly frustrated with our multiple gear failures, we are looking forward to the next few hundred kilometres along the Kettle Valley Rail Trail which is noted as one of the premier pathways in British Columbia and across the nation.  

 

See you on the trail!

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