#2: [12-Aug-03]

20-May-2002 -- I visited this point on the way back from a canoe trip to the Bowron Lakes, 80 km east of Quesnel. We had a group of 10 people in a large Voyageur canoe. The ice had just come off the lakes a few days before, but the weather was excellent.

On the way back, I took a detour from the highway to visit this point. I headed south on the Swift River road near the Cottonwood House area, following the roads indicated in the Backroads Mapbook and confirmed by other maps. I took the correct turnoff and put the vehicle into 4 wheel drive to head a bit closer to the confluence. When we got as close as the road allowed, I parked the car and geared up for the confluence.

I had two not-so-eager companions on this venture; my wife Kirsten and our friend Lindsay. They were a bit tired from all of the canoeing, and not enthusiastic in the slightest to be trudging through the damp woods in search of an arbitrary spot, so they elected to stay in the vehicle. I took a little FRS radio so I could keep in touch. The confluence was just over 1 km away.

I started heading along a path which must have been a road at some point, but now was overgrown and washed out. This path started turning away from my objective, so I headed through the bush. The bush cleared up fairly soon, and I entered an area which had been logged and replanted about 10-15 years ago. The young trees were nicely spaced, and there was a minimum of undergrowth, which made for quick progress.

As I got closer, the old forest closed in again, and I started seeing more and more snow on the ground, which I could not avoid stepping in. There were dead-fall trees to jump over and duck under, and I had to cross two creeks, engorged with the late spring runoff. The ground was quite saturated with water, and the trees were also quite covered, so I did not escape thorough dampness. Fortunately, I was prepared.

My feet were already wet from a day of canoeing, but I was wearing the canoeist's secret weapon: neoprene socks. The previous day, I had gained almost godlike reverence from the crew when, confronted with a shallow creek which the canoe had to be dragged through, I did not hesitate before jumping into the freezing waters up to my shins and dragging the canoe down the creek and then back up on the way back, while they tiptoed across the stream in great agony from the cold, and walked down the banks. The neoprene socks were my salvation then, and they were again now.

It took me about 40 minutes of thrashing through the cold, wet forest to reach the confluence. This included stopping every few minutes to get my bearings with GPS and compass and give updates to my support crew back in the car.

I was not impressed by the confluence point. The ground was more than saturated with cold water, with about 2 inches of standing water on the forest floor. The trees and snow looked just like everywhere else. I took a few pictures (only one of which turned out), and headed back to the truck. I got there in 20 minutes and changed into dry clothes, before heading to my parents place for a shower and a warm bed.