Monday, 3 August 2009

Never, Ever EVER Mock The Name of a Lake


I had this nifty idea that we should explore the back road from Fraser Lake that runs south of Francois Lake, where we'd travel past Binta then Uncha lakes and catch the ferry heading north into Burns Lake.

A few things went awry.

The first involved inadvertently ending up on an active logging road instead of the Holy Cross forest route and almost getting smoked by a logging truck. I think he was a little surprised to see us since he ended up fishtailing to avoid a head on collision. We sat in his zero visibility dust cloud for 2 minutes fervently hoping no one else would be coming along soon, then turned around and headed back still unaware that we were on the wrong road - hence the second erroneous turn.

We thought we had returned to the east end of Francois Lake and were on our way back to highway 16 but it was really taking a while and for some wierd reason I still didn't have phone service yet. Around this time we hear a strange sound from the back of the truck and drove along wondering what was vibrating in there. My brother - a mechanic - strongly recommended that we stop to investigate and as we exited the truck we were met by the stench of burning rubber from a blown out tire. The husband backed the vehicle into the driveway to a small lake where he and my brother set about trying to free the spare from beneath the undercarriage. (stupid place to keep a spare) Brother's girlfriend and I wandered away to investigate the one campsite on the lake, pick wild strawberries and dodge blackflies. She walked up the main road and read the little wooden park sign..."Meudon Lake"...I went around to check and then recognized it as "Meuoon Lake" - the very lake that The Husband had been mocking just the night before while we all studied the map.
We'd been smited by the vengeful spirit of Meuoon Lake.
This posed another little problem, since it left us about 40 kilometers farther out and in a completely different direction from where we believed we'd travelled and no amount of scrutinizing the map could explain why. (I pieced it together later following much study)

So - we were actually on the trip we'd been planning all along, not that we wanted anything to do with it at that point.

Meanwhile...back at the truck...Husband and Brother are still trying to access the spare and Husband discovers that all that rattling and bouncing had jammed the latch on the back window where they need the tools he packed. Eventually he manages to find access squeezing through the cab window. Progress ensues - the spare's retrieved, truck jacked up, flat tire removed and then - it becomes apparent that the truck can't be raised high enough to install the spare.

Hmmm. What to do...


Luckily there is a good supply of cut firewood though it's not the most stable material for that purpose. Somehow the Brother locates a single 2 X 4 lying nearby so he and the Husband saw it into just enough pieces to lift the truck and finally - oh glorious moment! - we're ready to roll once more!

The four of us carefully scan the map, check the direction on the truck's display, turn around and head for home. I spend the trip with eyes roving between the mapbook, our direction and every identifiable feature in the landscape. Anzus and Borel lakes are marked thank goodness which confirms that we are indeed headed back to Fraser Lake as long as we can stay on Holy Cross road, and after about 40 minutes we see blacktop again.

The Brother asks "Is this where we get out and kiss the pavement?" to much agreement.
Later it occurs to me that our two lane Highway 16 is wilderness aplenty for most folks so I resolve not to subject guests, especially cityfolk, to backroad adventures in future.
I just noticed that I began a B.C. backwoods adventure with 'Never'.
And after the way I went on about it a few posts back!
Huh. Guess it really is impossible to resist.

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