There wasn’t supposed to be 5 ft of snow on the sides of the road. Or nothing but snow in the forecast. Or -4 C at night. Hearing that it had snowed back home on Gabriola didn’t make me feel any better.
Last night, I finally ran out gas at Cayuse Flats. Leah and the Pirate King had scouted ahead and found the only possible place to camp that I could reach. It’s been a godsend having the shore team pace me through this walk. I wonder aloud as I’m trudging uphill once again at the backbreaking labour it took to do anything in this country.
Wind and snow persisted all day, eventually turning the red canoe cover white. The uphill grind to the summit at Allison Pass was another 5 hours at just over 2.5 miles per hour made harder by having to drag Karta with one wheel mired in the mud and sludge on the nearly non-existent shoulder.
Take that Allison Pass. All 4400 in fact.