Halcyon Hot Springs: British Columbia

Destinations, International, West — By ATV Mag on March 28, 2006 at 12:00 pm

“Rannie, after the Polar Bear, the Grizzly bear is the second largest animal in North America. An adult male can weigh up to 800 pounds, and when it rears up on its hind legs it may be well over eight feet tall. There have also been three bear attacks in the last six months, within a 60-mile radius, and two of them were fatalities!”
Suitably chastised, I promised I would not wander off the trail. Then, sensing I was a little apprehensive, Bill explained that we had nothing to worry about as long as we were on, or close to, our machines. The sound of the engine would alert the bears of our presence. The Grizzly, like all bears, will go out of its way to avoid humans.
I had flown from Nova Scotia to British Columbia to spend time with my nephew Jonathan, who lived in the picturesque Okanagan Valley. He told me it was possible to rent an ATV, with a guide, and spend a day exploring the mountains. He also explained that for a non-resident it was not possible to rent an ATV without a guide, because of the potential of getting lost in the hundreds of miles of old logging roads that criss-cross the mountain ranges. He suggested I contact Regner at Halcyon Hot Springs, a new resort located on the shores of Upper Arrow Lake.
A few days later, I arrived at the Halcyon Hot Springs Resort, located just a few miles from the village of Nakusp, British Columbia. I signed up for the “Full Day Adventure Tour,” at a cost of $220 (Canadian). This would include the use of a brand new ATV, helmet, a packed lunch, and, most important of all, the services of an experienced guide. Regner was certainly experienced.
A friendly, outgoing individual, Regner had emigrated from Germany and made a life for himself and his family in the Kootenay Mountains of British Columbia. A natural outdoorsman, avid hunter and fisherman, he had worked as a guide for a number of years before starting his own business operating snowmobile tours in the local mountains. This was such a success that he recently expanded into offering ATV excursions in the summer months.
His brochure said it all: “Experience the Kootenay and Monashee Mountains, and local wildlife, with close-up views of the most spectacular scenery in the world. Our guided ATV tours will take you into the unspoiled wilderness, to experience breathtaking panoramas with stunning views of snow-capped peaks and Alpine lakes and meadows. Some of our tours take you to old mine sites from the Gold Rush days!” I could not wait to hit the trail!
B.C. Expedition
Regner then introduced me to John Schaffelhuber, an American friend from Virginia who was vacationing in British Columbia. He was an experienced “four-wheeler” and would joining us for our expedition.
My ATV was a Polaris Sportsman 500, a comfortable machine that had all kinds of power, if that was required. It was a pleasure to drive, especially since I did not have to worry about shifting gears.
At approximately 9 a.m., we set out in heavy fog and followed a short trail from the resort to the edge of Upper Arrow Lake. We loaded our machines onto a motorized, pontoon barge. Twenty minutes later we were on the other side of the lake. Once the barge was safely tied up, we unloaded our ATVs and began our trip up the mountain.
The logging road zig-zagged up the side of the mountain. You could scoot along for a quarter of a mile or so at a good speed, before slowing down and reversing direction by means of a 180-degree switchback turn. This is how we rode for the next 45 minutes, until we finally pulled over at a junction with another logging road that veered off to the right.
The fog lifted, and we found ourselves in brilliant sunshine, with a magnificent panorama spread out before us. Three thousand feet below, the full expanse of Upper Arrow Lake lay shimmering in the early morning sunlight. Behind the lake rose an impressive range of snow-capped mountains, spreading off to the horizon as far as you could see in every direction. It was breathtaking!
After taking some pictures, we mounted up and continued to ride switchback fashion up the mountain. Since we were passing through areas that had been almost completely logged out only a few years earlier, we had a glorious unrestricted view of the surrounding countryside. We passed through sections of trees that had been left standing to prevent erosion. The logged out areas, of course, had been replanted with seedlings that were only beginning the 40-year growth cycle that they would follow until they, too, were ready to be harvested.
At about 5,000-feet above sea level, we were in thick forest cover. Instantly, the good logging road we’d followed came to an abrupt end. Regner explained that from here on we would follow a 100-year-old prospector’s trail, dating back to the Gold Rush days at the end of the 19th century. The trail had not been maintained over the years, but it was kept open by local snowmobile clubs during the winter.
For the next 40 minutes we crawled up the old prospector’s trail. It was quite steep in places, but I was amazed at the climbing ability of these four-wheel drive machines.
Then, without warning, the steep trail levelled off, and we emerged from the old, uncut, forest to find ourselves in a wonderful upland meadow, snow covered in parts, complete with colorful alpine flowers. This splendid scene was totally unexpected; so taken with it, I came to a complete stop.
“Rannie, you might be happy to know,” said Regner, “the most difficult part of our trip is behind us. I must say that you did very well, probably due to the many years of dirt-bike experience you had back in the woods of Nova Scotia. It will be easy going from now on.
“There is the summit we’re heading for. It doesn’t have a specific name, because there are so many peaks in these mountains that it would be impossible to name them all. We are presently at about 6,000 feet above sea level, so we have another 2,000 vertical feet to go!”
Getting High
Six thousand feet up in the Kootenay Mountains! I must admit I felt more than a little insignificant, surrounded by such majestic mountain landscapes. The effect was overwhelming, and only tempered by the realization that as wonderful as this location was, the best was still to come.
I was a little apprehensive as I approached the first extensive patch of snow-covered mountainside. I need not have worried. The Polaris had no problem coping with the snow. Before I knew it, I was riding on top of the small snow banks, making good time on the hard-packed surface. I was glad to have polarized sunglasses; without them the sunlight reflecting from the snow would have been overwhelming.
About 30 minutes later, out of breath, I found the group parked on a small patch of level ground. They were both grinning from ear to ear. Regner motioned for us to follow him, and led us past the bikes and up a short incline.
“There’s the summit, boys, 7,021 feet above sea level. Congratulations. The lodge that we left from is approximately 1,500 feet above sea level, so you can tell your friends and family that you travelled uphill for more than 5,500 feet, that’s more than one vertical mile!”
We made our way to the peak and, gentleman that he was, Schaffelhuber allowed me to reach it first. “I just came from Virginia,” Schaffelhuber said, “you came from Nova Scotia, on the far side of the continent. You deserve the honor!”
We spent almost a full hour on the summit of this unnamed mountain, eating lunch, and snapping pictures. But mostly we were silent, each in our own world.
Regner summed it up best. “I’ve been coming up to this same spot for several years now. Each time I get here, I feel like I’m in church, in the most magnificent cathedral in the world!” To which I could only add: “Amen!”