Picking up Ryan at the motocross track after watching youngsters fly around like pro's, Andy I and felt sheepishly out of place, slow, and slightly embarrassed to be on tame dual sports among all that brightly coloured, finely fettled racing machinery. It's humbling to watch kids use racing bikes as tools to fly, skid and skim around a dirt track like they were born to it, knowing that as far as your off road riding skills have come, you'll never be quite THAT comfortable on a bike. Wow.
It didn't stop us pretending for twenty minutes or so, though, on our way to the Deadhorse Creek gold mine to be better than we are. We flew like maniacs for a few miles kicking up dust and clunking our way from Dumount Road (east side of map) and along the hydro trail until we met joined with the 155 main and headed up the key trail to the promised land...
Above: the whole trip was about 140 km. Start in the northeast corner and proceed counter clockwise...
After heading up the key trail and crossing into the familiar route down the other side and through the alders, we turned left and headed up towards Panther (Healy Lake). GE shows a solid line representing a clear trail (quite a large logging road actually) all the way to the Gold Mine from here. However, as is often the case with GE, it doesn't show washed out bridges and creek beds which you need a trials bike (or a svelte KTM 450) to cross.
Above: you can see the trail past Healy Lake that we took, thinking that this would take us straight to the Gold Mine. Alas a creek bed sans bridge was more than a match for our confidence and we turned around.
The bikes at Healy Lake: Fisheries notices remind fishers that the catch limit for trout is "0", with barbless hooks and fly fishing only. Catch and Release...
Tracking back from the Healy Lake dummy trail, we headed back on the familiar key trail down towards Nanaimo River Road and joined it just east of Third Lake. Finally, 2.5 hours or so into the ride, we found an alternative route to the mine at the west end of Second Lake. Turning up this road, it was my turn to eat dust, and allowed the others to ride on ahead.
After traversing a trail which became fairly green and disused looking, among the trees, we came to a sharp descent, an abandoned camp-site complete with fire pit and obligatory beer can - and parked our bikes. A short climb down a steep-cliffed riverbank led us down to Deadhorse Creek (blue line above).
It was as we parked the bikes that Andy noticed that I had an almost completely flat rear tire... I had become aware that for the past while, that either the bike was harder to ride than I remembered, or that I was getting tired. Looking at the tire, it was evident I had been riding this way for a while, and 30-40 minutes back I remembered that I had heard a loud "bang" behind me, which I had erroneously put down to a bungee cord flying off the bike, as sometimes happens if they are slackened or hit by a branch. What is sobering, is that at one point we were doing 80 or 90 km along the dirt of River Road after that.
Still, I figured I had got it this far, and that if I was careful I could ride out easily. So on to the mine! The property itself is privately owned by a European company, and it hasn't been mined for some time. The details of it's yield can be found here...
Above: the mine property with the Straight of Georgia in the background. The mine entrance itself is at 1923 feet.
Seeing the mine for the first time is an amazing sight. Firstly, it is located behind and beside a waterfall in a deep creek canyon. You need to use the yellow nylon rope to descend the sides...
Ryan surveys the prospect (excuse the pun) of lowering himself into the abyss...
Above: The lower canyon; Below: the impressive Deadhorse Creek Mine entrance...dark...deep...bears, gas, gold??
The entrance is amazing and just beckons...
With my tiny micro-light and our pampers, we entered...
Above: as much light as I could shine in - the shaft splits into two tunnels - the left one heading towards a shaft which goes up vertically 5m through rock. Impressive. There are some old timbers holding various parts of this area up. They do bear load...worrying. But we whispered and walked gingerly around, except for one of my cohorts (who shall remain unnamed) who farted and nearly tripped, stumbling precariously towards the beam. There was gas down there after all!
Above: Ryan standing outside the entrance, waiting for our Welsh troglodyte to fetch the coffee and the light.
Above: looking vertically up the shaft. Water drips everywhere in the mine, and the flooring is sedimentary and puddled. The shafts themselves look sturdy and well constructed. Surprising. There was some evidence of wire...explosives?
Above: the obligatory beer can! It was comforting to know that someone else had been as reckless as us and been in here within the last decade or so... I didn't check for any dregs...
Above: Ryan exiting the mine, taken from half way in, at the junction between two shafts.
Above: The culprit. Now for the delusional conspiracy theory...I've never picked up a puncture or a nail before...I'm not sure where I picked up the nail, but if I were guarding a gold mine, I suppose nails could be an effective deterrent... Rubbish.
I've never fancied changing a tyre is necessary if you can ride the bike out carefully. Why risk spending hours with substandard tools and potential injuries trying to break the beed, wrestle a recalcintrant tyre off a rim and insert a new inner tube (which you have to carry with all the other tools), only to find that you can still ride the bike and change the tire out of the rain?
The bike was perfectly rideable at reasonable speeds 35-40kmh on the dirt, and 45 - 50 on the black top, although it was slow and arduous. I can report it is entirely doable though, and even breaks the bead for you: a two in one deal! I suppose the can of slime I have at home would have been an idea, but perhaps I wouldn't have known I had a puncture and continued to ride on it until...? The most stressful part of the 40km ride was avoiding damage to my rim by avoiding large rocks etc. Still, alls well that ends well... All in all, a great day. Thanks to Andy for the idea, and Ryan for the truck!
It'll be D606 rear for me now. The TKC 80 rear, while being great on the street and adequate in the dry dirt (not so hot in mud), has lasted a mere two months and a paltry 1500km: it wears like butter. It was due for replacement anyway...but the nail has hastened it's demise...