trail report
After enjoying our Cruiser Days event this year, I helped pack up a bit and then rushed off home to quickly get my camping gear together and toss it in the 40 for our appointed rendezvous time of 6pm at the Sasquatch. Apparently I did this 'tossing' a bit too quick as I forgot some things. Normally I have all my stuff ready to go in action packers, but had broken things down in a previous trip in an attempt to fit it all in the 40 with 2 people, and never really got around to sorting it out properly.
After topping up the fuel in Deroche for 97 cents/litre, I finally made it to the 'squatch at about 5:50, it still took almost an hour from my home in Pitt Meadows. Thinking I had lots of time to grab a burger, I did that while everyone waited patiently for while it was cooked.
Waiting at the Sasquatch was Mike M (bj74), Marcin and his cousin from Poland (I forgot his name already) (bj42), Greg V and his wife (bj60), Aaron and his girlfriend and kid (Prado), Dylan and Jamie, recent transplants from Ontario ('85 4runner with a 3b and stuff), Mat (bj60),Gary T (bj74), Jake and Anita (fj40) and umm....some more I think, memory is fading already.
Onward and upward we went up the dusty FSR, attempting to head to the north end of Chehalis via the Chehalis FSR. Not too long after turning left at the 4 way, shortly before Elbow lake, we come across a truck trying to tug a black car that had somehow gone off the road quite a bit. Marcin and the 4runner tried towing it out while I took the chance to air down. The owner was not present so they thought it prudent to not do it. Meanwhile I had turned around and was heading back to catch the action, passing some stumbling drunk kid who turned out to be the owner. He had been heading down to get some more beer. Buddy, I think you've had enough, you're lucky you ain't dead! I dropped him off at his car, and we left as this guy did not need to be behind a wheel again.
Shortly after passing Elbow Lake, a bumpy, fast, bolt loosening ride, we had to turn around because the bridge was indeed still out. It was already getting late enough and with this many vehicles would have taken to long to try and get anyone thru a route if there was indeed one at all.
We convened again at the Weaver Lake hatchery, where I finally got a chance to wolf down my burger (yummy!), but not my fries! The plan was now to head to Hale Creek and decide what to do then. More fast, bumpy, and dusty FSR road again, and we were at Hale. It was decided to camp there for the night, and Gary left some markers for Martin who was coming up later that night.
We all took the fun way down, even the Prado made it through quite easily.The campsites in the treed area seemed all taken up, so we camped in the beach area. Marcin graciously offered me a spot next to him so we could string up a tarp between our 40's as it looked like it could rain. This turned out to be a good thing, as I discovered I had packed my tent, but not my poles!
Oh well, a sleeping bag on a ground sheet below a tarp was good enough for me. At least I remembered that! Out of the darkness emerged Martin (fj40), it seemed he had spotted one of Gary's markers!
Dinners were made, beers were drunk, as Stevie Ray Vaughn wailed away while we stared into a roaring fire.
Morning came way too soon. I had a horrible sleep, swatting at some damn pesky mosquito for most of the night it seemed, but too tired to get up and get some bug spray. Marcin was awake most of the night as well, trying to find the outhouse, in a hurry! It was a good thing I had my gigantic 15million candlepower flashlight for him to find his way.
As we were breaking camp, Mat commented that he'd like to try the creek crossing and test out his snorkel. We caught up with him shortly after he had tested it, I'm sure you have all seen the pictures by now. The snorkel works great! He had found a deep part in the creek, well, Lake really. And as Jake was trying to pull him out, he broke his front tcase output shaft. It was after this that we noticed a large rock behind Mats rear diff that was halting the extradition of his soggy bj60. That was soon out, his truck then sunk some more, and he was then pulled out and let things drain. Marcin came to the rescue with some zap straps and a rubber glove to stem the flow of smelly 90 weight from the fj40's tcase.
Jake then had to head home while Mat was drying things out, and shortly thereafter we continued on our journey to North Chehalis.
We ran into Sopel as we started back up the hard way, again the Prado made it up easily. Back up at the FSR, Drew M and wife(FJC) and umm...didnt catch 'yer names, but 2 guys in a bj74 were patiently awaiting. Since a few of the gathered throng had not been up to Sunrise we headed that way.
Mat was making things look interesting on the V rock, and after some careful spotting, everyone made it up. Well, almost everyone. It was here that the valiant Prado was parked. Those little tires just weren't up to it. Time for a lift!
It was also this time when we noticed Greg was missing a bolt on a rear shock. No biggy, who needs shocks anyways?
We hung around Sunrise for awhile, as some brave souls swung from a very suspect looking rope swing (we used to call these Zunga's back home..anyone heard that term before?) into the refreshing lake. The ride back down the V-rock was uneventful, I gave Aaron a ride back down as we reminisced about old 40's.
We were now finally headed for Chehalis north! We stopped at the junction to Statlu only to discover some of our crew were missing. Drew had to head home, while Sopel and Aaron had taken a wrong turn. While Mat went back to get them, Mike was chatting with a Ford 'fella that showed up, the rest of us went down to the beach at the north end.
Fan-freaking-tastic! If I had of know it was that nice there, I would have beat my kidneys up some more driving there the previous night! I am definitely camping there next time.
Some chatter on the radio broke the spell on us, and we headed back up to where Mike was and decided to check out this road up to Statlu. I was starting to get a little nervous at this point, as my thirsty V8 was enjoying its fossil fuel a little too much. But very shortly up that road, there was a large impassable mudslide anyways. So we turned back, and headed up another toad to the infamous Wilson Lake. With the 4runner in the lead, we stopped at the first obstacle, the creek crossing where the bridge had long since been removed. Just as Dylan was nosing into it, he broke the yoke on his square tube front drive shaft. Mike winched him back and while they removed that, I was next in line and it was my turn to play. Apparently I disappointed everyone, as my fj40 just went where I pointed it and idled over everything. Oh well. The 2 guys in the bj74 then went, and after an argument with a rock and side step (the rock won) they were up and out. Mike M then went thru, but his lockers made it look even easier than me.
By now everyone was tired, the day was rapidly running along with my fuel. Mike and the bj74 decided to explore the road up to Wilson, which is apparently deteriorating rapidly, while the rest of us decided on a route to take home.
The choices were to head back the way we came along the Harrison FSR, or take the shorter, but possibly blocked route down via Margaret Pass.
We went the shorter route, crossing our fingers that it was open, 'cuz I would have been royally screwed and gasless if we had to turn around. Yes I will bring my jerry can next time!
Anyways, this route turned out to be a great idea. There are some beautiful vistas to enjoy once you have climbed way up. We came across one washed out section, but it turned out to be way easier than it looked, I was too tired to get out and lock my hubs even. But shortly after this, with Marcin leading, he radioed back saying something along the lines of 'we're f'ed'!
There was a gigantic mudslide blocking the road, but someone had done an enormous amount of work and cut a path through the tangled web of logs and debris. I recall seeing some pictured on BC4x4 with a UniMog going thru it awhile back. The path looked treacherous; slimy logs, large body panel eating stumps, tire tearing roots, etc. But it turned out to be way easier than it looked, or maybe its just a Landcruiser thing making hard things look easy
Aaron did have to use his winch tho, while Martin provided the anchor point. After this little interruption, it was a long boring haul down the FSR back to-wards the junction just up from Michaels Café in Dewdney. We hooked up again at the Shell down the road abit, and while everyone else aired up, I gassed up. I still had about an 1/8 of a tank (dumped in 41 litres of the bronze) and headed on home. Another great weekend of camping and wheeling down in History.
As others of have said previously, it was a great trip. Thanks to everyone for the spotting, breakfast (Marcin-yummy eggs!) assorted foods (Mat), and general good company and entertainment. See you all the next time.
