Archive for the ‘adventure’ Category
Venerable International Harvester 4×4
It was 1982 I think. We were living in a modernized log cabin in Rock Creek. Located halfway across B.C. close to the US border crossing at Midway. It was an 8+ acre property backing on the Kettle river, last pristine one in BC some said.
I had little or no experience as a farming type but was hoping to become self-reliant, much like the hippy movement preceding that time. So when my acreage grew a fairly profitable crop of hay, I hired a neighbor with a machine to bail it for a shared percentage. Then, with the help of a visiting friend, we stacked the hay in anticipation of sales.
Some hay did sell, but a fair amount remained unsold. Noticing a large old International 4×4 pickup truck for sale along the highway one day, I offered to swap hay for the truck, partly because hay was difficult to keep. Surprisingly we made a trade; the beginning of another real life adventure for me.
My oldest daughter had secured a job eight miles away in Midway, so it occurred to me I should trade that unused behemoth for something she could use for transportation to work.
So one cold clear winter day I struck out on a back road, (Highway 33 Kelowna to Rock Creek *) and soon realized that heavy old beast, likely with age-hardened tires, was completely unstable on that icy winter road! While transiting an elevated section at slow speed, it began to spin uncontrollably! With no way to stop it, I bailed out and helplessly watched, spell bound, as it slid off the road, almost in slow motion, thundered down a 25′ bank and came to a stop with a loud bang, slamming onto a large bolder!
That was just the beginning! First I tried to restart, but ironically the ignition key broke off! At that point I thought this was definitely not my day and the truck would be a write off. Not to mention traffic on that back road was few and far between in those days. Also day’s were short with temperatures below zero at that time of year. But surprisingly a tanker truck came by before long. Driver seeing the situation stopped, gratefully I related my plight including the broken key. (This is where the story becomes truly miraculous! )
Without a word of a lie, that tanker truck driver handed me a ring full of keys he said he had no more use for, and astonishing, one of the keys on that ring worked in my vehicle’s ignition, which started right up! However being wedged up on that large rock it would not move. The driver had waited, so I climbed aboard, only slightly optimistically of finding more help somewhere down the road.
Now several miles further along there was a rare off-road dwelling came into view, so I riskily offloaded in hopes of obtaining ‘any’ help. To my utter amazement the self-reliant owner offered exactly what I needed, namely a heavy solid steel pole not less than 6′ long and 2″ diameter! (I have no idea what its intended purpose was.)
Almost as miraculous as the ignition I soon thumbed a ride back to the truck with that large steel pole in a small, convertible Triumph sports car, with the top down! Indeed the top had to be down to accommodate that large steel pole. The driver was disregarding low temperatures, while enjoying a crystal blue daylight winter sky.
Returning to the crash site, I was soon able to leverage that old bullet proof truck off the bolder with the steel pole,* * started it up, and crawled parallel to the road until able to climb back onto it! I know this all must sound unbelievable, but I swear it is the truth. And there’s even more to this story!
To return the steel pole, I drove the several miles and pulled off in the lenders driveway. At that very moment there was a loud bang under the hood! Battery damage when the truck hit the rock cracked it open and caused it to explode, spraying battery acid all over the engine compartment! It instantly occurred to me that if that battery had exploded earlier, I would once again have been stranded!
At that point I thought my good fortune must surely have run its course, but wait.. On hearing my plight the generous homesteader told my to ‘go down to his basement and take any one of his spare batteries being kept on chargers’!!
Needless to say I was dumbfounded by all this unexpected help. In conclusion; I made it to Kelowna right at sundown and stayed overnight in a motel. The very next day I was able to substitute that old beast of a truck for a reliable old Mazda! (In fact that is yet another surprising story!) That car served my daughter well for transportation to her job in Midway.
* Hwy 33, Rock Creek to Kelowna, is now ‘greatly improved’ road.
** “Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world.”
View this link to Boundary Country Hwy 33 video:
I was only a beginner, home on annual two week leave from the RCN. My older brother was an instructor and partner in a scuba shop on Kingsway in Vancouver. With his basic instruction in a large tank there, I soon dove with a group of experienced divers at Horse Shoe bay, a fair distance away from the ferry terminal there.
In those days divers wore basic lead belts to obtain neutral buoyancy at about 30′ depth. Following divers down in the cold clear water with comforting wet suit on, I spotted a large cod fish and tried to sneak up on it. It appeared to be sitting on a rock unconcerned, but sensed me about 10′ away, so before I could even load my spear gun it took off like a rocket, as only fish can.
Below me I observed a pair of our experienced divers squirting some kind of powder material into what appeared to be a small cavern on the bottom. To my amazement they were soon able to pull a fairly large octopus out! They had located its liar by the tidy pile of empty shells outside it. I don’t know what they used, but it apparently numbed the the hapless creature to relax and let go of its protection.
However I suddenly realized that my fascination with their activity had allowed me to descend below neutral buoyancy. Reaching a lower than equilibrium depth meant I was beginning to sink rapidly!
I didn’t even think about dropping my weight belt, which would have been the right course if I couldn’t manage to swim upward. However I began pumping my flippers as hard as I could to return to the surface from about 90′ depth.
Thankfully being in good physical condition in those days I gradually ascended, I was now below the two divers that had pulled the dazed octopus out of its den. As they ascended above me I could see the limp creature held between them. It appeared to lazily wrap its multi legs around those two divers, a very memorable view, but my focus was on simply returning to the surface as a priority!
Evidently an octopus cannot survive for very long out of its watery element, having no physical bone structure etc, so its virtually anathema to be removed to our human environment. Sorry to say this was the outcome that day. How sad is that?
Amazing Divers BC octupus encounter on utube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayQK0OT_R1c
B.C. Coast Inside Passage rescue!
We were half way across Queen Charlotte sound, between Vancouver Island and Haida Gwaii on the beautiful Inside Passage coastal maritime route.
Our B.C. ferry ‘Queen of Prince Rupert’ was enroute from Prince Rupert to its home port at Kelsey Bay on Vancouver Island when a distress call came from a fishing boat.
A crewman on the boat was suffering from severe frostbite, owing to the harsh winter conditions at the time.
The captain ordered immediate rendezvous with the fish boat because the speed of our ferry was able to bring him to a help destination much sooner than otherwise.
The difficulty was there was very heavy sea condition in Queen Charlotte sound, not unusual and not pleasant to endure!
As we paused to allow the fish boat to approach on the windward side. First officer and crew members, including me, lowered a life boat half way down the ship’s side in order to offload the patient from the lessor vessel. It was a violently windy night with very heavy seas!
I was the bowman in the life boat while the first officer was the coxswain at the stern. As the boat approached it was seriously heaving from side to side, being a much smaller vessel than ours. Over the howling wind I shouted to the first officer; “any chance we will get caught between us?“ To which he shouted back in typical British stiff upper lip fashion; “no I don’t think so!“
Sure enough as that sizeable heaving fish boat closed in, pushed by wind and sea, it literally rolled to its port (left) about 30 degrees and cracked our very stout fiberglass lifeboat against our ship’s side like a hard boiled egg!
As it did so all lifeboat crewmen had no option but to jump, en masse onto the upper deck of the large fish boat, because we were hanging over the water in a broken life boat with no chance to return to the upper deck of our own ship!
Only the first officer was left clinging desperately onto a life line to the davit, (a crane for lowing the lifeboat). Seeing the life-threatening situation some crewmen shouted from the fish boat; “hang on sir!” Meanwhile the boat heaved sharply back the other way, to starboard, leaving his only means of escape to get hoisted back up by those crew on the ferry’s upper deck, which was done!
Somewhat miraculously no one had fallen between the two ships into the boisterous sea, since the chance of survival rate given sea temperature and conditions was slim and none!
The fish boat Captain now wisely maneuvered around to the stern of our ferry, butting up to the car deck. With loading door open it allowed all of us, including the patient, to jump over the bow and return to our ship. It was a decidedly less risky method of transfer than the first attempt, live and learn!
I never learned how the frost bitten fisherman crewman made out, but presumably our urgent response was well worthwhile.
My friend’s wife wanted to reunite with her hubby in Cranbrook B.C. where he was temporarily assigned by his employer, Zerox Corp.
I was a willing pilot with a Mooney M20A airplane. So his wife and I flew from Victoria to Cranbrook. A critical decision was made along the way.
Flying mainly at low altitude following the trans Canada highway, I attempted to take a shortcut over some low-range interior mountains but soon realized even lower clouds were obscuring terrain. So I made an abrupt reverse-course knife-edged turn back to the visible highway. It frightened my passenger but was a prudent decision. However, now fuel became a serious concern. Yet just after sunset, we landed at Cranbrook’s uncontrolled* airport.
Next day the three of us planned to return home. However solid valley overcast prevented normal VFR (Visual Flight Rule) departure. After several checks of MOT (ministry of transport) aviation weather reports, and questioning a very confident recent arriving private jet pilot who said it was just a thin layer of valley overcast, (from his point of view piloting a jet mind you), I decided to risk flying through that overcast for a VFR ‘on-top’ direct flight home.
We took off in my well planned Northerly direction away from all possible obstructions. It was like flying in a big damp cotton-like cloud strictly on instruments. Climbing slowly, being fully loaded with fuel and two passengers. As several minutes ticked by I stayed focused, this was no private jet after all. Finally we broke through into brilliant sunshine above the overcast and I immediately made a sharp turn 90 degrees to a Westerly heading. Gradually we climbed to about 8,500 feet, then leveled off with slightly nose down and fine tuning the fuel mixture. Now we were on ‘the step’ as it is called by experienced pilots for optimal cruise speed of about 135 knots, or 155 mph.
From then on it was CAVU (clear and visibility unlimited) with very memorable views of truly magnificent, pristine, snow covered Coastal Mountain peaks!
Accurate course setting brought us directly over an important ADF (auto direction finding) beacon located South of the Okanagan Valley.
Continuing over coastal mountains, across the Fraser valley and Georgia Straight, we landed without incident right after sunset at our home airport, Victoria Int’l.
Another personal flight experience I will always fondly remember!
*uncontrolled: meaning no control tower.
Today’s weather report for Denver triggered memory of an unforgettable experience year’s ago traveling to Oklahoma City from BC.
As I reached the mile-high city of Denver a major snowstorm engulfed my old Mazda sedan. Doggedly I kept trucking on until past Denver elevated in the mountains. Huge snowflakes were falling so fast I could barely see as far as my headlights were showing.
For awhile I managed to follow a few other cars, but the road was soon completely invisible. All we could do is hope the lead car we were following was still on the road, although the speed of the group was erratic to say the least.
As we came over a sudden hill I was rapidly over-taking the car in front of me and had to ease off so quickly the heavy old Mazda began a long heart stopping uncontrolled slide right off the road! Miraculously hitting what appeared to be a short guard rail, (who knows what was beyond that barrier). The car literally bounced and slid back to what hopefully was the center of the road!
There was no way to determine if I was even on the road now. All sense of position was gone, but at least there was absolutely no traffic in the opposite direction. In fact soon there was no traffic visible of any kind, not even cars to follow. I have no idea where others had gone. But now I was completely alone in a snowstorm of the century. I believed I had to keep going or they likely wouldn’t have found my frozen body until spring!
The snow was several feet deep after only a few hours from beginning to fall. I drove on all night at about 30 mph with my eyes as big as saucers in a purely brainless survival mode. Finally. the highway began a long gradual decline down from the mountains. ]
After hours of blind travel I found myself in bright morning sunshine with no snow in sight and soon caught up to miles of bumper to bumper two lane highway traffic. Where they had all come from I could not even guess.
Perhaps because I was in a near catatonic state of mind after my night-long white-out travel, and because all that traffic was barely moving, I decided to travel down the opposite lane! I began flying past miles of barely moving bumper to bumper jammed traffic in the wrong lane, thankfully there was no oncoming traffic at all. Probably no one was heading up the road to snow-bound Denver.
Exhaust from my oil-burning high mileage Mazda was leaving a well marked trail, like an old steam locomotive. I could not fully understanding why no one else was doing the same thing, in that empty opposite lane!?
After passing several miles of crawling cars I realized I was sticking out like a sore thumb traveling in the wrong lane! Sure enough a highway patrol sheriffs’ car was coming up fast behind me with multi lights flashing so I quickly inserted myself in the right lane, finding a small gap in front of an 18 wheeler.
Pulling over and stopping on the shoulder of the road, trying to hide, didn’t work. The State trooper had me cold. I can’t remember now if he gave me a ticket, or a warning, since technically all I did was legally pass everything on the road! However I do seem to remember a slight smirk on his face, apparently traveling down the wrong side of the highway passing everything on the road, for miles, leaving a telltale smoke trail isn’t exactly approved, even though I thankfully never encountered any conflicting traffic!
As I mercifully managed to continue on to OK city, I was totally exhausted and falling asleep at the wheel, no matter how hard I fought to stay awake. Entering city limits on a multi-lane freeway in the far right lane, with an 18 wheeler at my side. He must have noticed my somewhat erratic driving and realized I was falling asleep at the wheel. Thankfully his rapidly blasting loud horn just barely managed to help me keep my head up and avoid going under his wheels. The truth is the driver of that rig saved my life!
End of story.
Fire Hall #13
Among all the other things, great and small, that have changed over past decades, kids were allowed freedoms unimagined today. Security was also of far less a worry and concern.
For example, in my pre-teen youth, Fire Hall #13 just two blocks from my home would routinely leave their large firetruck doors wide open when answering a call. And since every man was on deck, no one was left to man the station!
No doubt this would be unheard of today. But amazingly that was exactly what happened one day when I was only 7-9 years young.
When ear-splitting fire truck sirens sounded, everyone in my East side Vancouver neighborhood knew exactly what was happening.
However as fire trucks rushed to the scene of a fire, they left the fire hall completely open and unoccupied! What greater opportunity could there possibly be for an active curious kid?
On at least one occasion I was drawn to explore fire hall #13 when it was unoccupied, even climbing up many stairs to second+story sleeping quarters. But that wasn’t all…!
Emboldened now I surveyed that upper room with its many unmade bunks, rubber boots, and canvas jackets, But now I was mesmerized by a large brass pole extending through a large hole all the way to the main floor! Of course it was the firefighter’s rapid means to man their engines without the potential chaos of having to run down stairs.
Would I; could I; do it…I immediately began to think..as my heart began to pound.? The distance required just to reach the pole was a man-sized open space. It was nearly the same distance as my total height at that age, but the more I looked the more I couldn’t resist the temptation, even with no one to witness the feat.
Jumping off the edge of the opening I just barely reached the pole, but now unexpectedly could not hold tight onto it!
Owing to my physical limitations, and without even knowing enough to wrap my legs around it, as is intended, but also due to the fact it was a shiny brass pole not designed to do anything but transport full grown men to a very speedy landing, I simply descending like a stone, landing hard on the rubber pad surrounding the base.
Thankfully that pad was just enough to break my fall. It may have prevented broken legs, but the physical shock was significant. Indeed that hard landing was enough to cause serious second thoughts about daredevil risks… temporarily at least!
However, my confidence wasn’t permanently injured, it was just another (secret) early lesson in life.
In Spring of 2020 I flew from YVR to PHX then drove to Los Algodones Mexico in a rental car for dental work. LA is known as having more dentists per population than anywhere else! There are no restrictions crossing the border from the US into Mexico, not even a check-in just a camera flash as you drive in!
However returning to the US from Mexico was technically against new Covid-19 rules (i.e. Canada US border restrictions for non-essential travel as a Canadian without US residency).
Being permitted to do so I was granted a fortunate exception by U.S. CBS border officers, and advised to “not try it again!”. Therefore I do not recommend taking that chance for any other Canucks!
By taking a one-way flight from YVR (Vancouver) to PHX (Phoenix), returning on a one-way flight PHX to BLI, (Bellingham) then by taxi to the border crossing on foot I broke no rules.
After being duly advised by CBSA of the need to quarantine for 14 days, I took a taxi directly to home. Any means of transportation from the border directly to home for the quarantine period is allowed.
Not sure who wrote this surprising and interesting post but I do not take credit for it…in fact it appears to have originated with this UK site: https://www.mayflower400uk.org/
On August 5, 1620, the Mayflower departed Plymouth, England, on a journey across the Atlantic. Their destination was the Virginia Colony.
In other words, from the start, their intent was to head further south.
Keep in mind three important facts:
Their original destination was not what is now the Boston area, the place where they finally settled.
Boston is south of Plymouth, England (51° N vs. 42° N).
The intended destination was even further south (51° N vs. 40° N).
The journey was beset by many delays. They originally intended to set off in July. Since most of the people making the voyage were then living in Leiden, in the Netherlands. The plan was for a sister ship, the Speedwell, to depart England for the Netherlands, pick up the passengers, return to Southampton, join the Mayflower, and then the two ships would begin their journey.
On August 5, the two ships set sail for the New World. The Speedwell began leaking, so they docked in Dartmouth for repairs. They set out again on August 21, and after a few days at sea, the Speedwell began leaking again. The leaders of the voyage determined that the Speedwell would return to England, while the Mayflower would continue across the Atlantic. So, after transferring supplies, the Mayflower finally set out on September 6 — over a month behind schedule.
The transatlantic crossing proved treacherous. While the voyage initially proceeded smoothly, the ship was beset by storms and foul weather during the second half of the trip. They finally spotted land (modern-day Cape Cod) on November 9 — 66 days after they had departed.
Their original plan was to journey about 250 miles further south to establish their colony, but they faced a grave problem: They had run out of beer. Drinking water, in those days, would spoil and become notoriously disease-ridden. Travelers, like those journeying on the Mayflower, relied on beer as a drinking source that wouldn’t spoil. But they had run out.
After exploring the coastline of Cape Cod and the mainland, they finally chose Plymouth, just west of Cape Cod, as the place they would establish their colony, and on December 25 1620 — Christmas Day — they established Plymouth Plantation.
As I noted, their original destination was the Virginia Colony. They intended to settle on a large island, a place teeming with wildlife and natural resources, fronted by a huge and navigable natural harbor, and bordered by a wide river that flowed from far into the interior. At that point in history, the northern boundary of the Virginia Colony was about 225 miles farther north than the current border of Virginia. The island where the voyagers intended to establish their colony is today called Manhattan.
So, the Pilgrims settled in Boston, rather than New York City, because they ran out of beer…you’ve got to admit, its a sobering story!
After purchasing a 100 year old two-storey Austin Street residence that was in need of repairs on a very short term private contract. The work progressed well.
I turned it into a simple up and down duplex, with cozy one bedroom upper suite. Now with young rental tenants upstairs the time to resell and pay off the private financing was not far off.
In fact progress had been so good I wanted to reward my family, as a private pilot.
So I took the required pilot medical in Medford Oregon to obtain a US private pilot endorsement, plus a check ride in a Piper Cherokee thus allowing me to rent said plane for a short pleasure trip around the area with my family.
After circling the nearby spectacular Table Rock volcanic plateau at low altitude, we cruised over the Rogue Valley and further South over the popular ski slopes of Mt. Ashland.
All in all it was a memorable experience that day, which I truly hope left a lasting impression on my children. After all, few could claim to have had such experience.
I had just landed at the Nakusp B.C. airstrip located right next to the local community dump. It was a few miles from the village and completely isolated.
My younger brother was supposed to pick me up there, however he had not arrived on time. So I hefted a back pack of some personal gear and started down what appeared to be a back road toward the main road and highway from the airstrip.
Immediately I observed another individual walking along the same roadway just a 200′ or so ahead. Indeed it was a full grown black bear. As I hesitated to follow along behind him, or her, it looked back over its shoulder at me. No doubt more easily aware of me than I was of it.
Of course I can only imagine what it’s thoughts were, mine were somewhat frozen. I thought the backpack may have been somewhat interesting to this beast, even without food. In any case I definitely declined to continue following it, and back stepped back towards my airplane.
Soon I realized my encounter was not alone, the local dump had numerous competing resident bears. Needless to say I was now a little traumatized. So when a pickup truck with a young couple came along I waved them down and very thankfully got a safe ride to the main road where i eventually connected with my negligent brother!
