Mountain biking and the kindness of strangers
This 2-day, supported group ride starts at Birkenhead Lake and goes to Pemberton on day one, with an optional highway ride from Pemberton to Whistler for diehards. Pete, proving his mettle once again, rode the extra 35 km to Whistler, , on steaming hot pavement, and in a stiff headwind with over 1500′ of net elevation gain The rest of us shuttled to Whistler on the provided bus, and were showered and fed by the time Pete arrived.
Day two descends from Whistler to Squamish on a mix of singletrack, logging road and highway. With the Whistler highway under construction, we were forced to brave six kilometers of dangerous , winding road with no shoulder. The four of us were in close single file, and I remember yelling at Holly to stay in line as cars roared by us, seemingly inches away. Descending some of the singletrack on this ride seems risky, but has nothing on this part of the ride for actual danger.
After a lunch stop on the side of the highway, the route descends down through the Cheakamus Canyon. I’ve been told this is the original “pioneer road”, and it has a lot of sections that mere mortals like me simply walk down. At one point the cliffside roadway has fallen away, and a cable-supported wire mesh bridge fills the gap. We were warned not to ride this section, which of course motivated Pete to do just that.
I confess to recurrent nightmares about this section, specifically the parts where a departure off the trail will take you over a cliff and far down into the river canyon below. I made Holly and James dismount and walk through some of these sections. From there its more descending on a washed out boulder-field of a road, much like a dry creek bed, into the Squamish River valley, and then a long but relatively flat ride out to the finish. It sounds dreadful, but its remarkable how confidence builds on these descents and you find yourselves riding down a rockstrewn roadway that you would sworn was way over your head. It’s exhilarating.
Once down and out into the flat ride out I breathed a sigh of relief that the dangerous sections were behind us. I was out in the lead along the rutted dirt road, pushing hard and trying not to inhale too much dust from the occasional passing car. Then I happened to glance back: no Holly and no James. I turned the bike around and sprinted back until I spotted them on the side of the road. Holly had crashed, hard, and was sitting on the side of the road, covered in dirt, bloodied and gasping for breath. For some unknown reason, her bike had suddenly gone out of control and crashed, with the handlebars jamming hard into her abdomen. Holly had suffered an internal injury earlier this year, that turned out to be potentially very serious. I was very worried that she might be reinjured, and recalled the doctor’s lecture about not wasting time getting help if that were to happen.
We got Holly settled, sent Pete and James up the road to a nearby house for help, and turned to flag down a passing truck. Little did I know I was about to experience the best and the worst of human kindness. The truck’s occupant, a lone male, slowed and stared at us as he passed. It was obvious we were in distress: I waved at him to stop and did everything but leap in front of his vehicle. He continued to stare as he slowly passed and proceeded to simply drive away. Amazed and infuriated I kept waving at him to stop and turn around, but was forced to watch him disappear down the road. Maybe a rock through his back window would have made him stop, but it seems nothing else would.
Then good things started happening and quickly. Pete and James came running back down the road with the occupant of the nearby house, who happened to be a member of Squamish Search and Rescue. Another truck came by with three sympathetic locals, who stopped, and bundled Holly and I into their car. Alex, the Search and Rescue technician, checked Holly out. By now she was calmer and breathing properly, and it appeared she was okay. But I wasn’t taking any chances. The locals drove us the twenty-five or so kilometers to a walk-in clinic in town. There Holly was diagnosed with a badly bruised abdomen, but with everything internal still whole and in the right place.
Holly, now recovered, and I, still recovering, rejoined the trail and walked the last few kilometers to the finish of the ride. Pete and James, having ridden in, rejoined us and were greatly relieved to see Holly in one piece.
What a scare. And how ironic that we should come through the dangerous, technical parts of the ride with flying colours, and then be undone by a mundane section of dirt road. Thanks to Alex and the locals (whose names I never got) for your unselfish help. I’d like you to know how much the kindness of strangers means in times like that.
Tags: birkenhead, cheakamus canyon, mountain bike, mountain bike accident, sea to sky, squamish, whistler
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