Day 7 – Saturday, July 7, 2018
Wendle Lake
Today was the second time we did not end the day with a campfire. It was not because it was too scary to sit around telling each other ghost stories. (It was too wet.)
Unrelated, Jeff has floated the idea of a vacation in Hawaii next year because it has no rain or insects. I’m not really sure on either of those things. Also it has active volcanoes. But it would probably be warmer. Especially in the active volcanoes.
We had a wee bit of a sleep in today, getting up around 9:30 or so and our plan for the day was to bike up to Wendle Lake and have a late lunch by the shore. We gathered our food, rain gear (just in case) and donned our backpacks after Jeff adjusted mine. Mine was hanging in a low back-killing position because everything I know about proper backpack usage could fit into a backpack with room for everything else.
Jeff is all smiles, as always.
I asked him to take a picture of me. There is a faint hint of a smile on my face. You may have to zoom in to see it. But I was having fun, honest! I apparently spend most of my time with a weirdly intense look on my face.
We headed off around 11:30. The directions to get there were on a photocopied sheet that looks like it came off a mimeograph machine from 1978. I quote:
Bowron Lake Road to Wendle Lake Provincial Park – 1 mile (1.6 km)
Approximately 4 miles (6.4 km) out the Bowron Lake Road, an unmarked turnoff to the left leads to Wendle Lake. You may drive up this road in the summer months, but it may not be passable to cars in May or June depending on the snowfall and weather. This lake area is a beautiful example of the sub-alpine terrain in this area. There is good fishing, and wildlife may often be seen.
Most of this is not true. We saw an unmarked road on the left about two km earlier than the directions and thought that couldn’t be it, it was way too early and even a drunken recollection of the location wouldn’t be that far off. We continued on the road to Bowron Lakes, which is a well-maintained gravel road. The speed limit is actually 80 km/hm which is kind of scary (and which people definitely hit, based on direct observation).
As we began an ascent up one of several long uphill stretches, Jeff fell behind and I looked back in time to see a car stopping so the driver could chat with him. I wondered if something was wrong, like maybe Jeff had broken a chain, ruptured a spleen or decided he’d rather be sipping margaritas in Hawaii. As it turned out, the driver was warning him of a bear about 500 m to a kilometer ahead—which is about where I was, very much by myself.
Jeff called out for me to wait, so I obligingly waited, then found out about THE BEAR. We rode side-by-side and talked loudly about various banal subjects, because this is known to keep bears away. As well as everyone else.
We did not see the bear.
We continued on, eventually covering 9 km, well past where the turnoff should be. I decided the person writing the directions was very drunk. But I got my a cycling award on my activity app for the most calories burned in a workout—329. I felt every one of those calories go.
As we pedaled on I heard a loud crack up and to the left. I informed Jeff I heard a noise and knew exactly what it was. A BEAR. Maybe even the same bear, being sneaky. Well, not entirely sneaky, since I heard it.
Jeff was slightly behind at this point and confirmed a black bear had punched a tree to shake loose the grubs within it. Grubs is good eating. And bears totally punch trees, I’m sure I’ve seen it on the Discovery Channel.
I looked back, not in panic, but because I wanted to see the bear doing its thing, eating stuff I would never eat, not even if I was on one of those survival shows (I’d smuggle in cans of beans), but I did not see the bear.
I count this as 1.5 bear sightings.
When we got back to the first (and only) unmarked road, we turned in and found a very large puddle, possibly bottomless. Jeff volunteered to go first, to see if he would sink and disappear forever. It turned out to not be very deep. Here is photographic evidence.
The trail, which was described as being 1.6 km, was more like 0.68 km. I am not complaining about the accuracy in this case. Also the idea of someone driving the family sedan along this very lumpy, narrow, steep, hole-filled “road” is enough to make any car mechanic see proverbial dollar signs. We actually dismounted from the bikes to push them up the last stretch. I didn’t feel guilty.
Once there Wendle Lake proved to be very scenic, though a lot of the trees surrounding the lake are dead. So, very scenic apart from the dozens and dozens of dead trees standing like the remnants of a post-apocalyptic world.
Also, some previous visitors did not follow the “pack in it, pack it out” note on the official park sign, leaving their beer cans and lighter in the fire ring.
And, of course, someone left a sock.
We ate our lunch, enjoyed a bit of sunshine, took in that whole nature thing, then got out of there in case the sky opened up. Also, there are only so many things you can do at a lake you don’t intend to swim in, fish from or water ski on.
The weather was not bad. A few times it felt a bit warm, a few times it felt a bit cold—it started to rain a little, and the wind whipped up in that way it likes to in the mountains—but overall it was fine for biking.
On the way back we stopped to take a photo of wildflowers growing along the edge of the road, at Jeff’s suggestion. This is one of my better flower shots, I think.
When we returned to camp we had a well-earned afternoon nap. We rode about 20 km, all of it uphill. Both ways.
Dinner was BBQ chicken and was delicious as always. Obligatory “I would post this on Instagram” shot of food:
As we bunk down for the night it is raining again. In some ways it feels a bit like Vancouver. But with more bears. This isn’t a complaint per se, just an observation.
