Spindle Quest: Chasing Lost Creek Gold. - Slumach

Glacier Lake is what is now called Terrarosa Lake and that
the gold may be more to the west of the glacier and closer
to the upper Stave. Now all we have to do is reach the
Stave.”
“What about Fire Lake? Stuart Brown took Don Waite to
Fire Lake. How important was that?”
“Well, Stuart Brown thought that you could get to the
location in a number of ways. The way that looks the
longest on a map is the easiest to get in. He may have been
crossing over from Fire Lake to the western edges of the
Terrarosa Glacier.”
“So we should try going in the same way!”
“ Well, I sort of already tried that.”
“What!”
“On a weekend last fall I made a trip to the beginning of
the Fire Lake logging road and drove it up as far as I could
go—it’s rough and steep. I got as far as where it crosses
over Fire Creek, and the bridge had all been washed out.
I would suggest we head to Glacier Lake and try and hike
in through here where it’s flat. From here we can try and
reach Terrasosa Creek and hike over into the upper Stave.
The longest way in is the easiest.”
“Yeah, and by the looks of the this map the area just
South of Glacier lake is all flat and grassy a favourite hangout
for bears. I don’t know, Friesen.”
“Bears are a risk anywhere we go in this part of the world.
We will just have to be prepared to meet one. You have
bear spray don’t you?”
“Yes, but it’s just too bad we don’t have access to a gun. I
would feel much better about it.”
WE—SHAWN, ERIC AND I—couldn’t have asked for a
nicer day when we left Langley for the rugged mountains
behind Glacier Lake. The sun beamed down us as we drove
down the Number One highway towards Vancouver and
then on to Squamish. We had the Rolling Stones blasting
on the stereo and not a care in the world other than getting
into those mountains and finding that gold mine. Life
couldn’t have felt better than that.
“So when are you headed off for boot camp?” Shawn
asked Eric as we drove past the Horseshoe Bay ferry terminal
and onto the Sea to Sky highway.
Eric was dressed in his army fatigues.
“I’m leaving for training in two weeks. Can you turn
down the music? I don’t want to go deaf.“
Shawn looked at me and rolled his eyes.
“So Friesen, tell me something, what are you going to tell
your boss if we do ever find any gold?” Shawn asked.
“I’m gonna walk into his office, put a gold nugget on his
desk, and watch his mouth drop open.”
My truck felt as if it was floating as I drove through the
mountains that make up the edges of Garibaldi Park.
Nothing in the whole world was wrong, and how could
42
it be in a place as beautiful as this? The two-hour drive
to Pemberton felt like minutes. We stopped at the Petro-
Can, filled up with gas, and got some extra supplies before
heading towards Lillooet Lake and our turn off into the
mountains.
Just north of Lillooet Lake we passed an Indian reserve
in the grassy meadows with majestic mountains towering
behind it. The road took us down along the side of Lillooet
Lake for a short time before heading straight up into the
mountains. Our turnoff was a dirt road that would take us
all the way to Glacier Lake. As we drove deeper into the
mountains you could see the small Indian reserve called
Skookumchuck hugging the Lillooet River far below. We
also passed through what looked like a small modern subdivision—a
bizarre sight in the middle of the mountains.
Several Native residents waved at us we drove by them in a
cloud of dust.
After about an hour we arrived at the Glacier Lake
turnoff, marked by an ancient wooden sign hanging on
a tree near the side of the road. I turned and headed up
an ancient logging road that was obviously not used very
often. It was very rough, and the truck was taking an awful
pounding as I drove through giant potholes and over sharp
rocks. I cursed as I went through a large pothole bottoming
out my truck.
“Just take it easy,” Shawn said as we slowly headed
towards the edges of Garibaldi Park. Behind yet another
switch back we came to a gaping trench cut in the middle
of the road. I slammed on my brakes to avoid crashing into
it.
“Don’t know if we can make it,” I said in frustration.
“Come on, Friesen, have some guts,” Eric said, “Do you
want to turn back again?”
“No, not really,” I said. I slowly backed up my truck and
then gunned into gear heading for the trench and hoping
my tough little Mazda could handle it. I closed my eyes as I
hit the trench. The truck’s bottom slammed on the ground
and we bounced up into the air and onto the other side
where the truck stalled. I panicked.
“Great, what if she doesn’t start,” I said, but she came
rumbling to life again.
We let out a cheer and we continued our crawl farther
up the mountain. At one place the road was covered with
large sharp rocks and I could not avoid hitting some.
We finally got to a place where the road flattened out and
you could see the green waters of Glacier Lake glistening
far below. What a beautiful place it was. On the opposite
side was giant waterfall cascading down the cliffs into the
tranquil waters of the lake below. We stopped the truck
and piled out to have a better look, and that was when we
first spotted a big problem—one of my tires was leaking.
“You have a spare, right?” Eric grumbled.
“Look in the back.”
“According to the map we are nearing the end of the road
© Daryl Friesen 2009