Fall Lines Pt. I

We had to get the Token Englishman to the border. Our loose plan to lap around BC in search of the steep and loose had an original route including a detour through the Kootenays. As per usual we sustained last minute changes in scheduling as the result of coordinating multiple itineraries, so we had to scrap the idea. Callum needed to pass through the border in order to receive his approved work visa, so on the day of departure, we had some logistical issues that needed to be dealt with. Had we gone through the Koots, the southern highway comes really close to the border, so it would have been easy. A last minute text from our friends at Cariboo (brewing!) solved our dilemma. They offered to stock us up with enough sauce to sink a ship, so we completely rerouted our trip plan while waiting at the stoplight in Emerald. Classic NSMB trip: Take the seat of your pants, and fly by it.

  The Sea to Sky highway, failing to disappoint. Anvil Island shrouded in cloud. Photo: Callum Jelley

  Quick stop for some supplies. Photo: Callum Jelley

I for one am a huge fan of spontaneous adventures, so we decided to loop down through the city and start our trip from the mouth of the Fraser River and work our way North. It was too easy. We tossed Cal out on the side of the highway, leaving him to pedal his downhill bike to the border while we stocked up on the necessary tools and supplies we’d need to get through eight days of roughing it. We set our sights on our first destination, and started our casual cruise through the lower Fraser Canyon and onward to Spences Bridge.

  Spontaneous pit stop in search of fishing gear at a flea market. Photo: Mason Mashon

  Mark found himself a new addition to his CD collection. Photo: Mason Mashon

 Cal made a new friend, and conducted some unconventional trading. Probably should have traded for some shoes, though. Photo: Mason Mashon

I’ve been to Spences Bridge more than a few times now, and there were still a few bucket list items there that I had yet to check off. The line into Mud Lake was at the top of said list. We found a great camping spot on the Thompson River to set up our hammocks to sleep in, however it had one major flaw. Trains. On every hour, on both sides of the river, 100 car long trains would hiss and squeal and roar, loud enough to pierce our ears. It literally felt like we were sleeping a foot away from the tracks.

  Scoping. Photo: Callum Jelley

  Finding a parking spot isn’t too tough in these parts. Photo: Mason Mashon

  Staring down the throat of our warm up line. Photo: Callum Jelley

  Finding a money camping zone isn’t that hard either. Photo: Mason Mashon

After a less than ideal sleep, we were a bit sluggish getting started. We decided it was probably good to get warmed up, so we went back to the zone that I had shot with Stephen, Matt, and Reuben earlier in the summer. We familiarized ourselves in the big terrain over a couple laps, and placed a few shots in the bag. We were off to a decent start.

  Mark negotiating the crux at the drop in. Photo: Mason Mashon

  The only shade around. Photo: Mason Mashon

  Callum familiarizing himself with the big BC terrain. Photo: Mason Mashon

  Hang loose. Photo: Mason Mashon

  Mason opening it up. Photo: Mark Matthews

We ventured over to have a look at the Mud Lake line that afternoon. When I was there earlier in the summer, the water table was at high tide from a heavy spring run off and the abnormally heavy June rains, so the lake level was about 2 feet higher than I had seen it before. This deemed the line potentially un-rideable at the time, because there was no chance of slowing before hitting the water at high speed. Now that the lake level had dropped, I knew it was going to be on. We spent the last part of the afternoon hiking around the line inspecting and visualizing what had to be done. Then we hit the river for a quick fish at sunset.

  The Crux; two turns where the magic NEEDS to happen. Photo: Mason Mashon

  Pretty much on all fours climbing up on this hardened sediment. Photo: Mason Mashon

  Callum. Born to fish. Photo: Mason Mashon

  The Mud Lake Couloir. Photo: Mason Mashon

The game plan was to tick off another big mountain line I had done years ago. We were up early, and the sun was climbing fast, so we decided to go have a quick look at Mud Lake. My estimates were slightly off as to when the best light to shoot it was going to be. The sun was about an hour away from lining up straight on the line, so we quickly axed the other line and shifted our focus. Mark and I were not ready to drop into this monster.

We had barely digested breakfast before starting to push our bikes to the top. I was scared, so I went first. Mark and I pondered as to what was going to happen, and we drew the same conclusion. Convince yourself to tip into this beast, and then hold on for the ride of your life.

  It looks like a long way to the crux, but it only takes a few seconds to get there. Photo: Mason Mashon

Here’s some insight into the how-to ride down this scary ass line:

The line is especially tricky. The drop-in is over steepened consolidated clay sediment, sustained for about 100 feet, it drops straight. The line carves itself deeper and deeper as you look into the chasm, and the first turn appears as a 60 foot impassable wall from the vantage at the top. There are two crucial moves you need to make to ride out safely, which involve high speed skid steering and semi-controlled drifting. By the time you make it to the first corner, you’re nearly flat out. You have to bank right, then quickly transfer for the left bank before you can straighten out again, all of which happens within the blink of an eye. Instinct and adrenaline take the drivers seat, and your brain just holds on for the ride. The level of excitement is insurmountable. Once you reach the toe of the couloir, the sediments loosen up and your tires begin to grip slightly better. However, you’re going way too fast to slow down, and the death grip continues to the bottom of the line where an exit along the shore about 5 feet wide awaits. Your heart takes at least a few minutes to slow down.

  Mark blasting by me inside the belly of the beast. A shrapnel of rocks followed close behind and battered my ankles after he passed through. Photo: Mason Mashon

  Mark kept it loose yet controlled. Photo: Heather Lafortune

Mark managed to keep himself dry by nailing the small rut berm we dug at the bottom, and I also managed to stay dry on my first lap. For my second go at it, I decided to roll in from the very top, and that extra little bit of speed must have compounded itself, because it was way faster the second time, and I couldn’t slow myself enough to come out on land. Instead, I used the shallow water to kill the remainder of my speed and despite getting a minor soak up to my waist, I somehow managed to stay on my bike and rolled it out of the water back onto shore.

  Trying as hard as possible to shut it down before the water. Photo: Heather Lafortune

A group of Euros that we’d been seeing around Whistler this summer had been on a similar agenda, and showed up to see my second and last attempt at this line. They too were keen to conquer the Mud Lake line, but perhaps left out a few crucial bike adjustments for this type of terrain. Hard compound tires with high air pressure and stiff suspension for jumping was a less than ideal tune for this place. Mark and I were running super tacky rubber and 17 psi, with soft suspension and we were still just on the verge of losing control. Needless to say, 3 out of 4 of them dunked fully in the lake, and one was lucky to walk away totally unscathed. Nick Pescetto displayed one of the gnarlier high speed crashes we’d ever seen. Luckily, no one was badly hurt, and we all slapped high fives over a couple beers. It was pretty awesome to have a big mountain session with that many sick riders. Definitely one for the yearbook.

  German shredder Andi Tillman got his first real taste of BC’s big mountain lines. Photo: Mason Mashon

  Bike wash. Photo: Mason Mashon

  Nick Pescetto cutting it awfully close to the toe edge of the wall. Photo: Mason Mashon

  We were pretty happy to see him on his feet, once he came to a stop at the bottom. Photo: Mason Mashon

After a well-deserved lunch at ‘The Packing House’ – our favourite spot in Spences – we moved on to a spot I had scoped for a jump. Shovels met earth, and we started digging.

  Dust and…

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Part II of this big mountain tale is just around the bend, and there’s video in the pipes as well… stay tuned!