Another memorable experience was on a solo trip up to Clearwater lake, in Wells Gray park, near Clearwater, B.C. It was early Decemner and I was driving a 72 Chevy shortbox pick-up; a 2WD truck. The road was covered with compact snow and ice but the temperature was well below zero in the early morning so the road was sticky and traction was pretty good. At one point, just before the Helmecken Falls overlook, the road descends, quite steeply, to the Clearwater river. The road then makes a right angle turn to the left, crosses the river on a Bailley bridge, then makes another right angle turn to the left and ascends the other side. I don't recall exactly how far these grades run but probably a quarter mile or more. The road was one lane, as was the bridge. On the riverside of the road, the drop wasn't sheer but it was close and, if one went off, the chance of survival would be slim. This was about 45 years ago and I would imagine things may have changed by now. Anyway, I negotiated the downhill, crossed the bridge, and made it up the other side with little difficulty though there was a tense moment near the top, going up. I drove on up to the lake and took a walk around, supposedly looking for a moose but, really, just enjoying a nice day. When I headed back home in the afternoon, it had warmed up considerably and was near freezing. The traction was not nearly so good and when I headed down into the canyon it was slick. I drove with the drivers side wheels kind of in the ditch on the uphill side, to find some traction for braking. I made the turn across the bridge and tried to get some momentum to get up the other side. I made it about 100 yards and spun out. I started sliding backwards down the hill and soon realized I had little control. I pushed in the clutch and let the truck roll back a bit then cranked into the bank with the back end. The front slid around until I was pointed downhill again and I made it back down to the bridge. At the bridge, there was room to turn around and I did so. I backed across the bridge to make another run. I repeated the first performance twice more until I had scared myself enough that I didn't want to try again. I got turned around for the fourth attempt but decided to try and improve the odds a little. I took the tire iron and used it to pry chunks of rock loose from the wall and loaded them into the back of the pick-up. By the time I was done, I had probably loaded 500 pounds or more into the truck. At the same time, I scattered as much sand and dirt onto the road as I could get loose. I probably spent a couple of hours at this and, by now, it was full dark and the temperature had dropped by twenty degrees or so and this helped too. I backed onto the bridge again and, this time, I was able to get into third gear and made it up the hill with no drama. The funny thing is, I had chains but didn't have them in the truck, for some reason. I normally hauled a couple bags of sand but didn't have those either. The main thing is, this wasn't the first time I had gotten into difficulty and I knew better. When one is 25 years old, he feels pretty cocky. Today, I'm a lot more chicken though, sadly, not a lot smarter. GD
