Old Bridges of the Ozalenka Trail

    On that first hike up to the Ozalenka Valley, one of the most memorable experiences I had was crossing over the many creeks, carefully balancing with my arms out, as I slowly and carefully, made my way over the logs suspended over the roaring creeks.  After the Ozalenka Alpine Club was formed and many volunteer hours of work, make-shift bridges were constructed.  Above are some photos of some of those old, retired first bridges, which have now been replaced by wider and more substantial bridges.  

    It is no longer necessary to ford the big creek at the trailhead, because there is well-built bridge for hikers to cross.   On the many crossings over creeks up the 7 km (4 mile) trail, regular bridges now provide a much easier and safer hike.  Below is an example of one of the newer bridges that now dot the trail.

    Certainly, not enough praise can be showered upon all of those volunteers, who spent days making the trail better for everyone who wants to make the hike.  A mountain trail like the Ozalenka needs constant maintenance, as trees fall, and high rushing water from snowmelt, wash away bridges. 

    The steep uphill trail can be exhausting enough without having to worry about falling into a rushing creek.

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Ozalenka Club and Cabin

This happened in 1989:

        The week following our initial hike up into the Ozalenka, thirteen people, many of whom had been on the hike, met at John and Linda Bird’s house to form the Ozalenka Alpine Club.  We were all eager to create a hiking club and to try and preserve the Ozalenka drainage from being destroyed by motorized vehicles, something that was becoming more and more of a local threat.  About a week later, we approached the Forest Service and were able to secured a promise that through their Recreation mandate, they would be willing to kick in some funds for the club’s effort to build a cabin for hikers in the Ozalenka alpine.

    Over the following year, volunteers from the club an others volunteered their time and labor to build a cabin in the Ozalenka.  We did get funding from the Forest Service, mostly to pay for a helicopter to ferry in the building supplies to the cabin site.  Once completed, the cabin contained beds, a kitchen complete with propane burners, pots and pans, and eating utensils.  There was a wood stove and firewood for heat for skiers that wanted to use the area during the winter.  Later a solar panel was added that provided some electrical power to the cabin.

    The creation of a cabin enabled a lot of hikers to spend an extended time in the alpine, without having to lug so much gear on their backs, hiking up the trail.  The cabin was rented out and became very popular, attracting a lot of hikers from outside the Robson Valley, who had heard about it, as word spread.  

    That original cabin has now been replaced with a new and better cabin, but I have not been up there to check that one out.  All of these photos are from that first cabin. 

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Hey, it's Barb

    Yesterday, we had to do the one hour drive to Valemount to a dog groomer we know, in order to get a summer haircut for Kona.   Valemount is the nearest neighboring village to McBride, and although it is 85 km (53 miles) away, we do have friends that live there, so whenever we travel there, we always seem to run into a few.

    When we drive to Valemount, we usually take the shortcut at Tete Jaune, which enables us to go over the old Tete Jaune Bridge.  The bridge over the Fraser River is very photogenic, nestled with the Cariboo Mountains in the background.  If the weather is good, I always like to stop and take a photo.

    Yesterday when we stopped, my wife suggested that she walk out onto the bridge in order to add an accent to the scene.  She got out of the car and started walking to the bridge, and when she got on the bridge, a dog appeared advancing from the opposite side.  Then a walker appeared.

    From my distance, I couldn’t tell who the walker was until the two of them and the dog walked to me.  I was surprised to see that it was my old co-worker from Forestry; Barb.  I hadn’t seen Barb for about five years, so it was good to run into her again.  Barb, who lives in Tete Jaune, was always very outdoorsy, so I guess I shouldn’t have been that surprised to see it was her, taking a morning walk.  She explained that the dog wasn’t hers, but lived at a house she always passes on her walks, and every time she goes by, the dog joins her on the walk, thinking the walk is for him.

    One of the things I like about living in a small rural community is knowing a lot of people and running into them periodically, as you do life.

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Hooded Mergansers

    Hooded Mergansers are interesting looking ducks.  That’s the male with the bold white stripe across the head and the distinguished colored pattern on his body.  The female on the right, is not as brilliantly colored as her mate, but she does sport a punk haircut.  This pair of ducks return to my pond every year.      

    Hooded Mergansers are tree nesters.  Around my pond, I have a handful of nesting boxes attached to trees, about 10 feet (3 meters) off of the ground, and the female uses the boxes to hatch her brood.  Below is a photo I took of a female, just coming out of her nesting box, taking a break from sitting on the eggs in order to go get some food on the pond and get some exercise.

You can view my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

 

The First Trip To The Ozalenka Alpine

        Today, the Ozalenka Alpine is a highly regarded and popular hiking destination in the Robson Valley, but back in 1989, it was unknown.  I was along on that first group hike up to the Ozalenka and below is how the hike went for me.  I probably have some photos from that first hike hiding away somewhere, but the photos you see here are from later treks to the Ozalenka.

On Sunday, September 3rd there was a group hike planned up into the newly named Ozalenka Alpine.  Ozalenka supposedly meant “grizzly bear” in some indigenous language.  Very few local people had ever been up into the Ozalenka.  The area had been “discovered” by Glen Stanley, a local hiking and climbing enthusiast, and his descriptions of the place, peaked the curiosity of some of us other local hikers.  Glen volunteered to lead an expedition for us interested trekkers, up to the Ozalenka, and set the date for the hike.

         I was very eager to see the Ozalenka and so got up at 6:00 the morning of the hike, because I had planned to bike to the gathering point, so my wife could have use of the car during the day, but then I discovered that my neighbor Kjell was also going on the hike, so I was able to wait around at his house until 7:30 and go along with him. 

    There were twelve of us that met up at the trail head to do the hike.  Lanky, mountain goat, Glen led us into the bush along one of the tributaries of the Dore River.  Almost immediately after starting off we encountered, and had to ford a wide creek.  Everyone else had brought some runners along to wear fording the creek, but I was unaware of crossing a major creek, and was wearing my good leather hikers, so I took off my boots, hung them around my neck, and crossed the creek bare-footed.  The water was shockingly cold, almost stinging my bare feet.  

    It took hours to make the slow, unrelenting, climb up to the alpine following a steep creek.  We had to cross the creek multiple times, balancing on logs.  Once we got above the tree line, an extensive alpine area opened up to us.  It cradled three small lakes.   After some initial explorations roaming through the lush rolling flowered alpine, some of us seeking a new vista, climbed to the top of a very long narrow ridge that overlooked the next valley. Spectacular!   

    We saw a few caribou and heard wolves.  It was a wonderful and enchanting experience.

    My feet began to hurt even before starting back down the trail, and as I descended, the pain got intensified.  I always found that going downhill was more painful than climbing, because my long toes always jammed up against the toe of the boot.

    It was already dark by the time I got back down to that first big creek, and I discovered that while we had gone, the creek’s flow and it’s depth had increased a lot, due to all of the alpine snow melt that had occurred during the day.  I was totally exhausted, and upon entering the creek’s frigid water and crossing, I slipped on one of the underwater rocks, falling, and drenching myself.

        Once I had struggled to the bank of the creek, I just lay there for a while exhausted, until I could work up enough energy to get back on my feet and walk to the trucks.  I didn’t get home until 9:00.

 

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Fire Patrol & A Spot Fire

             Charlie Leake, (Above) a retired long-time McBride resident who had flown jets in the Canadian Forces, was a local aviator.  Often during the summer, he was hired by the Forest Service to fly his private plane on “Fire Patrol”.  

    During the summer of 1989, the Robson Valley Forest District experienced a high fire hazard, and Charlie was contracted to fly his small plane along a designated route, criss-crossing over our Forest District to spot any smoke from forest fires.  His route took him over mountains, river drainages, the valley bottom, isolated lakes and glaciers, and included Mt. Robson Provincial Park; some of the most dramatic and beautiful pristine mountain scenery in the world.  

    On his patrol flights, Charlie always needed a passenger to also act as an observer, as he piloted the plane.  The observer job required someone with a strong stomach, because Charlie’s small plane often encountered turbulent weather that buffeted the aircraft around. 

        In 1989, it was my wife that was hired as Charlie’s observer, and she spent many a summer’s day high above the Robson Valley looking for forest fire smoke.   While I envied her views of the scenery, I didn’t envy her the bumps and rolls of the small plane that sometimes had to be endured.  During times of extreme fire hazards, Charlie’s patrol plane had to sometime flight twice a day.

    On one of those days of two flights, my wife had spotted and reported two small spot fires early in the morning.  Back at our Forestry Office, a three-man crew of firefighters were dispatched to the fire at 10:00 AM.  They had a long rough hike into the fire, and weren’t able to start fighting it until 4:00.

        They radioed into the office reporting that they figured they would have the fire extinguished by 7:30.  Facing another 5 hours to trek out, it meant that they would have ended up hiking in the dark, so it was decided to drop some camping equipment and food in to them so they could overnight.   

        I was on Forestry warehouse standby that day and, just when my wife got home from her fire observer job, and as I was about to ask her about her day, I was called in to the warehouse to get the camping gear together and take it to a helicopter which would dropped it off to them.  (The rough terrain they were in prevented the helicopter from making a landing.)

          After getting the camping equipment out, I had to continue working in the warehouse until 9:00.  It was another long day during fire season.

        I thought it was interesting that both my wife and I contributed, in our different roles, to getting that spot fire extinguished.

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Cartoon Hits The Mark

    Above is the cartoon that I submitted to our local newspaper last week.  It should appear in this week’s paper.  When I submitted it, I didn’t realize just how relevant it would be to my life. 

    I find getting everything organized for the income tax to be a hateful job.  Although I feel I am conscientious about saving all of those income tax related papers throughout the year, it always seems that some important piece of information ends up missing.

    This year I felt I had all of the ducks in a row, as far as my income tax documents.  I grouped and paper-clipped all of the  papers related to each section of the tax and then submitted the big envelope full of the information to the local woman who figures out our taxes.  It is always such a relief to turn that envelope over to the accountant and be done with it.

    However, this year that relief was short-lived.  The accountant called me a few hours later to tell me that I was missing the all important T4A (Old Age Security) and the T4A (Pension) documents.  Both are sent by the government.  Since I didn’t have them, somehow they must have been mislaid or lost.  Immediately, after hearing the news, I was thrown into a panic/depression.  

    Our income tax is due at the end of April and I was pretty pessimistic that I could get new copies of the two documents before that.  I called Revenue Canada on the phone in an attempt to get them to send me the new copies, and after 40 minutes of hanging on the line listening to bad muzak, I actually got to talk to a real person, who was very friendly, and promised to mail them out to me right away.  

    Again that feeling of relief returned to me.  Now I hope they quickly arrive to the post office in our isolated little village.

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca