Spindle Quest: Chasing Lost Creek Gold. - Slumach

My iMagination was on fire. We did not
go further than the entrance to the lake, but
after returning from that first trip to Pitt Lake I was
daydreaming all the time about gold waiting to
be found in the Pitt Lake mountains and the day I
would unearth this treasure.
I hassled my father to take
Rick and me to Debeck Creek
as soon as weather allowed it.
This time we launched the boat
at the Lower Pitt marina near to
the place where Slumach killed
Louis Bee. It started raining as
we headed up the Pitt River
and into the lake. This time we
missed the sandbar, and we
cruised up the lake avoiding
several deadheads on the way.
Following the advice of the
Indian man whom we met at the
marina, I had looked through
the newspaper articles for any
mention of Debeck Creek and
found one hinting that there
could be something interesting
there. The article from 1952
showed a skull and a map with
a circle around the area where a Vancouver Province
news team had staked what they were told was the
location of the fabulous Lost Creek mine. I drew a
similar circle on my topographic map and saw that
the circle overlapped the Debeck Creek area. There
was little else to go by, but I was so inexperienced I
thought that I could get some samples on a one-day
trip to support what the old Indian had said about
gold in this area. I had no idea yet what it takes in
that terrain to even get close to a place where gold
could possibly be found or how much work it is to
find even a trace of the yellow metal.
As we cruised up the lake and passed Goose
Island, I was amazed by the ruggedness and
vastness of the mountains. As we came closer to the
mouth of Debeck Creek, the wind was blowing from
the top of the lake and the boat started to pound on
the waves, sending showers of water cascading over
the top of the boat.
“I don’t know how long we can spend up here
today,” my father said. “It’s really rough and it’s
only getting rougher.”
With time I would learn how often the weather
would get in the way of a search just at a crucial
16
Sampling Debeck Creek
Bill Ryan, Province, 23 april 1952.
moment. It really makes you wonder if what they
say about a curse on this place is true.
For brief moments I could see the top of the
lake and the mountains behind it. There so many
prospectors died searching for the mine, but I did
not give that much thought, as I my mind was
on surveying Debeck Creek. We
slowly pulled the boat up towards
the mouth of the creek, but it didn’t
look as if there was any place to
land the boat. The beach that was
supposed to be there was covered
by water and all kind of driftwood
was floating around and no small
pieces either. As we tried to get
onto shore large stumps and logs
pounded against the side of the
boat as the waves thrashed us
around.
I watched my father guiding the
boat through the driftwood towards
a large hollow tree that had fallen
onto its side into the water.
“We can’t get the boat to shore,
but I’ll get the ropes ready and tie
it to one of the branches of the tree
once we get close,” he said.
Rick and I were ready to snag a branch with the
rope as we closed in on the hollow tree.
“Got it!” I yelled up to my father, who came
running over and tied one of his expert knots that
secured the boat to the tree.
“I have to stay with the boat,” he said, “you
two can climb over the tree to shore and do some
exploring, but we can’t stay long. Do what you have
to do and be back in no longer than half an hour.
It’s getting rougher and we have to get out of here
soon.”
Rick and I both nodded our heads in agreement,
picked up our packs and scrambled up the slippery
log onto shore. The rain was pouring down on us
as we entered the forest and headed towards the
creek roaring in the distance. Just before we got to
the stream’s edge we hit what looked like an old trail
that followed along the shore of the creek.
“Let’s follow it,” I said to Rick, and we headed up
the trail winding its way up the side of the water.
As we walked up the trail, it started turning into
a little creek. We splashed our way through the
water, and it went deeper and deeper into the forest.
The natural cover above us was as low as a tunnel.
© Daryl Friesen 2009