is about a remote area in west central British Columbia, Canada
called the West Chilcotin. Surrounded by numerous glacial mountain
ranges, alpine lakes teeming with wild Rainbow Trout, and full
of wildlife. Living here goes from no running water or electricity
to spacious log homes with all the conveniences and without
Wilderness Adventures - February, Week 4/06
you would like to see pictures of wildlife, mountains, lakes,
exciting snowmobiling, events and more, and read stories like
'Lake Monsters' - just go into Archives on the lower left side
of this page.
You can search this site for a subject of interest to you
at the bottom of this page.
Happy First Day Of March
other areas, the first of March is still winter for us.
I have to laugh when the newscasters mention spring bulbs
flowering and they speak of the Home and Garden show in
Vancouver. It's amazing what a difference there
is in weather between our region and Vancouver, only 300
miles to the south of us, especially this time
The night before last, our temperature dipped to -27C
or -20F while last night we were a balmy -16C. The mill
went to a later shift at the planer, starting at 10:00
in the morning rather than 6:30 after it had warmed up
a bit. The machinery has a tendency to break at lower
temperatures and hydraulics don't work properly at all.
Never mind that it's a little hard on the people
Years ago when I worked at the mill the shut down temperature
was supposed to have been at -31C but I remember one night
shift when we worked to -37C or about 35 degrees below
zero Fahrenheit. There was a 25 mph wind blowing and frozen
feet and hands were the order of the day. I don't know
how low the temperature would have been if you took the
wind chill into consideration, but I sustained severe
frostbite on my legs while we all watched each other carefully
for the white marbling on cheeks and noses, a sure sign
of frostbite. Unfortunately, when you're stuck standing
in one position for eight hours a day with no opportunity
to move around, it's much harder to stay warm.
To this day, my legs go numb as soon as the mercury dips
We used to try to convince our bosses that the low production
due to machinery and hydraulics not working properly could
not possibly pay our wages, never mind the cost to the
mill to repair machinery that broke down from stress in
the cold. Our pleas fell on deaf ears. It's
nice to see that mill management has smartened up a bit
on that point.
Cooler temperatures have kept our snow on the ground so
for anyone wanting to enjoy snowmobiling, cross
country skiing or winter hiking, this is a great place
to be for your winter vacation.
Just a reminder to everyone that if you would like to
come see our beautiful area this summer, you might want
to start booking your vacation now. You can go to the
and Campgrounds pages
to check out accommodation, while pages such as Summer
Park will give you a little taste of
what we have to offer. Don't forget to visit the Photo
gallery to see wildlife in the region or just see
how beautiful our lakes, mountains and sunsets are in
the Anahim Lake and Nimpo Lake areas.
Just to let you know, I won't be around for a few days
and won't have access to a computer, so no blog until
next Tuesday or so. In the meanwhile, Happy March!
B.C. Canada House in Turin, Italy
have been touting the log building made of beetle kill
pine for weeks now. Unfortunately, in footage
of the building on the television, the blue stained logs
just made it look grubby on the outside. Better lighting
from TV cameras on the inside improved the look somewhat.
Not to blow my own horn, but 17 years ago I was pointing
out to co-workers at the mill how beautiful the blue stained
pattern in some of the wood we were running was. The
mill that I worked at between Anahim Lake and Nimpo Lake
in the late '80's was one of the first to ever process
beetle killed pine. In fact, to the best of my
knowledge, the portable mills huge as they were, were
designed specifically to process beetle kill logs in the
Chilcotin where the infestation had gotten 'out of control'
according to Forestry.
As I saw more and more of the wood come past my station
- (I'm a lumber grader) - I started picking out pieces
that were particularly spectacular in pattern and color.
A fellow grader that was building a house on Nimpo
Lake was just in the process of putting in his ceiling
when I started pointing the blue stained and pink, heart
stained, wood out to him. He decided to do an interlocking
pattern on the ceiling using both colors of pine, and
to this day it's one of the most striking ceilings I have
I learned a few years later that some smart cookie in
Prince George actually patented the name 'Denim Pine'
that describes the beetle killed pine in British Columbia.
The reason that the B.C. Canada House in Turin looked
so grubby in pictures is that the beetle killed
pine has a wide variation in color from a very soft, delicate
blue that looks like puffy clouds on sky, to sharp lines
of dark steel blue in the wood. It is best appreciated
close up. The color is often accompanied by tiny black
pinholes that are actually made by the larvae as they
feed on the tree through winter and exit in spring. The
patterns are awesome and no two logs or boards are the
same. Unfortunately, the forests they are in the
process of decimating is not. You can learn more about
what's happening to us locally at The
Mountain Pine Beetle attacks Nimpo Lake.
I was glad to see that since the Olympic winter games
are coming to our province of British Columbia in 2010,
that at least the organizers were able to put a
positive spin on the Pine Beetle devastation that we are
experiencing. Perhaps, if nothing else, we can
market the wood and wood buyers the world over will decide
that our product is a must have.
As an end note, congratulations to all our Canadian Olympic
Team that represented our country in such a competitive
and dignified manner. Well, except the men's hockey team.
That's when that truly Canadian term really applies.
What the heck happened there?
Oh yeah. The millionaires. The prima donnas. Maybe we
should go back to the amateur teams. I think they
might put a little more guts and determination into the
Games than that bunch we got stuck with in Turin.
took a long time, but we got snow! It took most of Saturday
night and yesterday to accumulate about four inches of
snow because it came down in tiny little flakes, but it's
dense and it won't be disappearing soon. Barring a really
unusual warm spell, that is. Three of the guys from
Nimpo Lake went out snowmobiling yesterday and stayed
low because of the snow. The light was flat and
visibility poor in the open areas so there was no point
in going up the mountain. Trails were nice through the
trees though and it sounds like the guys had a good time
touring around breaking old trails and making new ones.
It also sounds like we need to get a work party together
sometime before spring to widen some of the trails slightly.
Sometimes just taking out one small tree here and there
can make a tight trail so much nicer and reduce your chances
of falling into a tree well or bending a ski or trailing
arm on your snowmobile. We've also had beetle kill
trees fall onto our trails and some of the old wagon roads
that we use so those need to be chopped out. We
all try to minimize the size of our trails. Tearing up
the bush, which in this country is a very sensitive ecosystem,
isn't on anyone's agenda. I think we're all pretty
conscientious about our local environment and
other than doing turns on local hay meadows, we stick
pretty close to the trails most of the time when riding
at lower elevations.
The weather people are warning of a real avalanche problem
right now. Heavy snowfalls with a recent melt and winds
have created the perfect conditions for that 'slippery
I was really surprised at the quality of snow we received
the last day or so. It's very, very heavy, dense snow.
It's 'squeaky' snow, the kind you normally would
have after very cold temperatures and it lays on top of
sugar snow with an icy crust that is very slippery.
If we got much buildup at all in the local mountains,
I wouldn't be trusting any bowl or slope. I think that
the avalanche danger risk would be very high, even in
our area. Time to wear those avalanche beacons! I'll certainly
be wearing mine next time out.
It's kind of odd, but temperatures are dropping
very quickly tonight. The weatherman didn't call
for anything extreme for us but we're already at -20C
or -5F and it's been dropping steadily for hours. I'm
assuming that a cold, high pressure system north of us
in the Yukon has dropped down much further than expected.
The jet stream looks like it's doing some really strange
stuff too. Greenland is going to have the same temperatures
as Hawaii in the next day or two if it doesn't watch out!
I'm pretty excited because we've got part of my weather
station, a Christmas present from my honey, set up now,
and temperature conversions have just become a lot easier
to do. Just have to figure out how to set the barometric
pressure readings for our elevation. We can set the base
station but not the monitor. Instructions on stuff just
isn't what it used to be.
is about Betty's run-in with the grizzlies at the Home
Ranch. Betty was driving home to the ranch with
their two young children while Pan lay in the back of
the wagon. They had been on the trail for ten days and
were only four miles out from the ranch house when Pan
suggested Betty hop a horse and ride on to the house to
get the fires started. The team knew its way and would
not sway from the trail home. This way the house would
be on its way to warm by the time the wagon with the two
children and Pan arrived.
They had been away for six weeks when Betty arrived at
the ranch and her old saddle horse began shying
away and snorting so she tied him up in the barn
and threw some hay to him. She started the two hundred
yard walk to the house when a feeling of uneasiness came
over her and she could hear growling and crunching sounds
from the ranch yard. Suddenly, a bear not forty feet in
front of her stuck it's head out of a row of bushes, sniffed
then turned around to return to the yard. Betty
turned to dash back to the barn when another, smaller
grizzly broke out of the bush and made its way toward
the barn and the horse tied in there. Betty knew
she needed to get to the ranch house and angled toward
it as she heard yet another large body crash through the
bush. She made it to the four foot high picket fence that
surrounded her yard and stifled a scream as she saw the
remains of a dead horse scattered over her front
yard and two large grizzlies snoozing on her front porch
in the sun, while four more bears tore and knawed
at the remains of the horse.
Terror came knocking when Betty realized her crippled
husband and children would be arriving at the ranch house
with the rifle tucked away out of reach under the bedroll,
and not have a clue what was before them. She realized
she would have to walk past the grizzlies to warn her
husband and children up the wagon road. As she tried to
ease up the road the first hundred yards seemed like the
longest in history and as she went, another grizzly
came swinging down along the wagon trail. She
beat a path off the road and he passed without paying
attention to her, more concerned about the scent of shredded
horse meat in his nostrils.
Betty finally met the oncoming wagon and shouted a warning
to Pan. He had her climb up and hold the horses with a
death grip while they pounded into the ranch yard, he
ready with the old 30.06 rifle and his six gun.
Shots wouldn't scare four of the bears away, determined
to stay with their abundant supper, so Pan was
forced to shoot them. As he said, he hated to do it but
they were determined to stay, and he couldn't get into
his own home until they were gone. All in all, there were
twelve grizzlies that they saw for sure. Even though the
grizzly is an opportunistic creature, that is a fantastic
number of animals to see in one place in the Chilcotin
and other than on salmon rivers such as the Bella Coola,
I can't see that happening today.
I will not finish the book out. It's a fantastic
ending to a fantastic story and you must read the series
of books for yourself.
Although some of the locals claim there was some embellishment
no matter where Pan Phillips walked, and a lot of color
whenever Rich swept through, I do live here and I know
the country. Athough you can exaggerate a lot of things,
sometimes it's just too tough to bullshit about
old Mother Nature, because she can usually throw
more at you than your imagination could ever dream up!
I recognize the names of many of the people about whom
Rich speaks and writes. I know some of the sons, daughters,
grandsons and granddaugters of people from Anahim
Lake that Rich Hobson writes about such as Lester Dorsey,
Andy Holte, Andy Christensen, and the Thompsons.
I had the pleasure this past summer of working with Lester
Dorsey's granddaughter at the mill. You remember him?
He did a lot of wrangling with Pan and Rich but he's most
famous for riding that 10' high contraption built above
the harrow described in the story at Wilderness
Adventures Feb3 . I'm told Leslie takes
after her granddmother, and I can tell you that old Lester
sure couldn't have produced such a beauty on his own.
This tall, high cheek-boned, black haired beauty
with snapping black eyes outworked every two men they
put next to her on the retrim chain, and then some.
She only worked at the mill for a short time because she
was going wrangling for her parents with their guide pack
horse outfit for the summer, but she brought home the
essence of the true pioneer of this country. Another granddaughter
of Lester's that I've worked with in forestry can
work ten guys into the ground and still be her smiling,
apple cheeked, sharp eyed self at the end of the day before
she goes to shoe up a bunch of horses.
I'm hoping that in years ahead, I can pass on the story
of many of the people who didn't write a book - but not
only did they pioneer this country, they have been strong
advocates for preserving the region all of their lives.
Those same people, as well as their sons and daughters,
helped to create the RoundTable, a group
of vested 'shareholders' in the resources of our area,
including ranchers, guides, outfitters, trappers,
resort owners and community members in general.
The RoundTable process created by these people is now
used as a model by many modern land practice groups throughout
British Columbia and the rest of North America.
Disaster At The Home Ranch
to Rich Hobson's final book where Gloria's premonition
about the Home Ranch comes true. During the vicious
Arctic blizzards of the winter of 1948/1947 bodies at
the Home Ranch consisted of Pan, his wife Betty, two small
children and their fifteen year old hired hand, Shag.
Pan had been feeding cattle about three miles from home
near the stackyards and on one of his outings he found
a partially eaten heifer killed by wolves. Over the days,
as the blizzards raged on, Pan could no longer buck the
growing drifts with a team and wagon to the feeding grounds.
The only thing for it was for Pan to saddle up a good
strong horse, buck his way around the worst of the drifts
to get to the cattle, throw them hay over the fence, open
up their water holes and set traps around the slain heifer
for the wolves.
The only problem with the whole plan was that Pan chose
his big stallion, Wang Leather for the job, and he'd
only been ridden three times before in the breaking pen.
But Pan decided he would be big enough, and strong enough,
to break through the drifts.
On the third large plunge across the drifts the heavy
wolf traps slung from the saddle horn slapped Wang Leather
in the shoulder and the horse folded in the middle and
started bucking hard. The first time the traps arced
around they hit Pan in the midsection with an impact so
hard blood spurted from his nose and ears. As
the horse jumped a second time the heavy traps hit him
in the stomach agian with as much force as the first time
and before blacking out, he freed himself from the stirrups
before the horse could drag Pan to his death.
The weather finally calmed, the thermometer began to plummet
and Pan lay freezing to death in a pool of his own blood.
Finally, Betty and Shag came with a horse pulling a travois,
bucking through the hole in the drifts broken open by
Wang on his return to the barn with a beaten up and empty
For ten days Pan lay at the ranch house in the gravest
of danger, his stomach distended with blood, his hips
and back a painful mess.
The weather finally cleared enough for Shag to ride the
big stallion, Wang Leather around the Ulgatchez Mountains
(then known as the Algaks) to where someone could call
in a rescue plane on skiis to pick up Pan. Shag
embarked on an incredibly heroic ride of seventy five
miles to Anahim Lake over a little marked trail
through deep snow, hard snow drifts, dark woods and across
icy lakes in twenty four hours, more than half of that
time in the dark of night.
When Pan finally arrived at hospital he was told that
aside from internal injuries, his pelvis was split over
an inch apart, the muscles had been torn from his hips,
and if all went well, he might heal up well enough
to walk in about nine months and someday he might actually
ride a gentle horse. Of course Pan was having
none of this.
He was rigged up in traction and it didn't take him long
to decide he didn't need to be in traction at the hospital
if he could rig up the same thing at home. He left the
hospital in a few weeks and eventually mended enough to
get around on crutches sometimes, and the rest of the
time still used the traction at home following the doctor's
blueprint to mend himself.
In the meanwhile, Betty did an incredible job of holding
the ranch together, feeding and moving cattle into
the grizzly infested summer range in the Itcha Mountains,
getting in hay, firewood, and killing a moose for the
larder. In September of 1948, nine months
after Pan's accident she drove her children and crippled
husband, who lay in the back of a wagon, the 200 miles
to Quesnel for a check up with the doctor.
Surprisingly, Pan was healing well but the doctor told
him he was still taking a chance of being crippled for
life if he didn't go to Vancouver for some operations.
Pan refused of course and was riding in the wagon when
they returned to the Home Ranch. It was on this
homeward trail that Betty ran into the grizzlies.
I'll continue with this tomorrow, although I really should
have everyone go scrounge up the books that Rich Hobson
wrote because every single one of them are well, well
worth the read and I haven't even begun to cover all of
the incredible stories in the books.
Last night hit about -30C or 20 below zero Fahrenheit
and was very clear. Today started out really clear
and cold but a light, high overcast moved in fairly quickly.
We are supposed to see our temperatures warm up a bit
and a little snow in some areas. We sure could use some
of the white stuff here! Looks like the guys are going
out sledding tomorrow, but I think I need to get some
work done, but we'll see. It seems the trail smoothing
job went well yesterday so at least a person won't get
beat up too much on the bumps to Hooch Main.
Staying Low With Snowmobiles
was a remarkable day for sledding. We were so tired when
we came in last night that I just wasn't up to writing.
So I'm sorry about missing yesterday's article but sometimes
you just gotta have fun!
The day started out cool but clear. About the time
we all met at Dot Island on Nimpo Lake, a fast moving
storm cell was moving overhead. We got out of
it at km14 on the Charlotte Main but you could see it
was going to be a blustery day, so we chose to go on the
Telegraph Creek Trail. It was deactivated years ago, which
means that every hundred yards or so a deep ditch has
been dug across the road. As per their agreement with
the community and natives to protect the backcountry from
wholesale hunting, etc., this was done by the mill after
logging was finished in the area. You don't want to hit
those ditches too fast or wrong but they can be fun if
you know they're there and can get air. Snow conditions
on Telegraph were beautiful and the trail wasn't
beat up like those that saw 19 inexperienced riders go
over them a couple of weeks ago.
We stopped for lunch on Whisper Lake that is said
to have fine Rainbow Trout fishing in summer.
It's a little lake hidden in a basin surrounded by hills
and a steep little trail winds down to it. The wind was
blowing pretty good but we found a protected spot at one
end. The wind must have deposited all the snow there over
the winter because there were several feet of sugar snow
piled up on that end. If you stepped off of you
machine you were not going very far without wallowing
From there we continued on up to meet with the trail that
takes off to Goat Pass. There you could see the wind blowing
snow sideways off of the mountains and we decided we definitely
were not going up to Trumpeter. We continued down to km
24 on Charlotte Main and then down a trail to Charlotte
Lake. These trails have all been trimmed up and marked
by the our small group of regular snowmobilers over the
years. Periodically we've formed a work party with saws,
axes, stakes and ribbons to cut narrow trails that disturb
the surrounding country as little as possible, but that
still allow us access to the high country, or in the latter
case, to go see our friends over on Charlotte Lake. There
are about five full time residents on the lake that live
without electricity except for those folks that have set
up solar systems.
We had an enjoyable visit with Fran and Alice on Charlotte
who told us the Charlotte Lake road had been plowed and
so we wouldn't be able to return home by the route because
there wouldn't be enough snow for the machines.
The hard, crusty snow due to the cold weather had been
causing us a some grief yesterday because not enough snow
was flying up from the tracks to keep the big powder machines
cool. Even my machine can have overheating problems if
I go too slow over hard trails, but I now have scratchers
on my rails and that made all the difference in the world
We backtracked to Charlotte Main and checked out a few
meadows along the way. One meadow hayed in summer by the
natives had old horse drawn equipment on it and I
recognized the type of horsedrawn hay rake I used to have
to ride as a kid during haying season. It was
kind of neat seeing the newest of new machines (snowmobiles)
parked next to a piece of equipment that had probably
been built in the Depression era.
There was some nice snow on these little pocket meadows
with no rocks and they offered a great opportunity to
practice deep turns on the snowmobiles. The snow
was deep enough to lay the machine on it's side but not
so deep that you would get stuck if you laid it over too
much or lost too much speed. It's been a few years
since I've had the opportunity to practice and I had a
lot of fun but my back and shoulders sure feel it today.
The whole idea of this maneuver is that if you get into
a tight spot and need to make a turn in a very small area,
you stand on your machine, get speed up, lean out in the
direction you want to go hanging on to your mountain bar
and turn the skiis in the opposite direction
of your turn. Amazingly, you can execute a turn pretty
fast in a very small area. I was just practicing holding
the machine on its side in a straight line but it takes
a tremendous amount of energy to hold the machine up in
this position. Andy and Logan were also practicing the
turns and both are a lot better at executing full turns
than I, although they also came off their machines few
times. That's why you practice. It's a real balancing
act to hold the machine at exactly the right position.
It's sure beautiful to watch a good rider do it though.
I've put some pictures up on the right showing Andy doing
some excellent turns. Logan executed some beauties as
well but I didn't get the camera on him quickly enough.
Up until Andy told him yesterday about turning the skiis
into the opposite direction of travel, Logan had been
pulling his machine over with brute strength and not a
little balance which takes a tremendous amount of energy.
But he rode motorcycles for years and you can see that
in his riding.
We're all looking forward to a couple of our riding buddies
arriving in March that are summertime residents on Nimpo
Lake. Henry, who is in his eighties used to race
motorcross bikes and is still a hard act to follow.
I'm also looking forward to some folks coming down from
Quesnel in March to ride with us. I'm just hoping the
snow will hold up at lower elevations so we don't have
to trailer our snowmobiles.
All in all, it was a great day yesterday with a small
group, good to excellent riding ability, and really nice
snow on the trails. Other than those trails that got beat
up so badly by the large group a few weeks ago. A few
of the guys are going out today to try to groom them.
Some years ago Lloyd collected some heavy conveyor chain
from the mill and welded it up for a neat little trail
groomer. It got down to -25C or about -10F last night
and is still cool today so hopefully they can still smooth
the trail out even if it is frozen.
years 1947/1948 were arctic blizzard and flood years.
According to Rich Hobson in his third book "The
Rancher Takes A Wife", he was told the weird weather
had to do with the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima
that created extra dust in the air and changed weather
patterns. Who knows? Maybe it's true.
In July of '47 Gloria received a message that her aunt
living in Vancouver was terribly sick and Gloria left
Rimrock Ranch to rush to the woman's side.
Late in the afternoon after Gloria left, Rich noticed
ominous clouds building up, turning day into night and
and blinding flash after flash of lightning heralded an
unbelievable downpour that lasted all evening and until
daylight the next morning. The Rimrock crews had
just begun haying a luscious crop to carry cattle and
horses through the coming winter, so there were two cowhands
on the place, one in the bunkhouse with his family, a
'confused' lady cook, and Rich.
They woke the morning after the storm to find the
ranch house standing alone above a rushing torrent of
water six feet deep.
As Rich watched, he could see his fence posts, uprooted
trees and his hay rolling past in the water. He lost his
entire crop, both haystacks and hay that had not yet been
The only other things Rich could see in his line of sight
besides roiling water were the stables with milk cows
trapped inside and a few young calves perched precariously
on top of some manure piles.
The cowboy with his family in the bunkhouse rowed over
in a wooden dinghy to the main ranch house standing only
eight inches above the muddy, still rising water, to inform
Rich that his own family was ok and the bunkhouse was
still over a foot above water, and then rowed the boat
with cowboys in relay to rescue the stranded calves. The
calves went into the kitchen of the ranch house while
a stranded wrangle mare was put out in the glassed in
front porch with some hay. The rest of the horses
and cattle had stampeded to the woods and higher ground
the night before after a few loud crashes of thunder,
and other than a couple of bloated cows that floated past
the ranch house the first day, it was some time before
they saw the herd again.
The cowboys gathered up a couple of the milk cow's calves
and hauled them in the boat to the far Rimrock side hill
where one of them held the bawling calves. The milk cows
were then let out of the barn sitting in rising water
to swim for their calves.
A remarkable scene ensued the following morning when everyone
watches as Rich's St. Bernard cross pup swims from the
barn yard to the front porch where he deposited the small
form he held in his mouth. It was a tiny kitten from a
litter born not long before to Rich's pet cat that had
taken up residence in a now completely submerged calf
shed, and it was still alive. The dog swam back again
from the barn yard with another small form, this one no
longer alive. The dog continued swimming back and forth
between barn and ranch house until he brought six tiny
kittens over, three of which lived. A little later everyone
turned to see the mother cat dripping wet and purring
over her three remaining kittens. No one new if the dog
had brought the full grown cat over or not.
The dog had just fathered pups of his own shortly before
the flood and the ranch house was beginning to smell
and look like a zoo, with three calves, a mare, three
dogs, four pups, two cats, three kittens and the mix of
humans stuffed into the house.
The water had risen to lay a half inch on the porch floor
but had remained stable most of the day and now looked
like it might begin receding. Rich Hobson looked out on
his Rimrock Ranch and could only be glad that Gloria wasn't
there to see their ranch devastated and the probable stock
The remainder of the story about the flood is quite funny
in places, especially when Rich's brother arrives with
two other friends at the ranch in a car and proceeds
to drive into the six foot deep lake now surrounding the
ranch because he was busy talking after sharing a bottle
of scotch with his friends and not paying attention
to what was up ahead of him.
That devastating summer is followed by a killing winter
with blizzard after blizzard and temperatures that
often held at fifty below zero. Somehow, like
many frontier pioneers, Rich and Gloria continued slogging
through horrendous temperatures, weather, bad luck, and
horrible conditions year after year. They faced their
losses with wit and the sheer determination to succeed
in their dreams. All the while both Rich and Gloria often
recalled her premonition from the year before that
something terrible was going to befall Betty and Pan Phillips
at the Home Ranch.
For those of you that are new here, last week's articles
can be found at Wilderness
Adventures Feb3 most of which are about
Rich Hobson's adventures in the Chilcotin. ""Nothing
Too Good For A Cowboy" and "The Rancher Takes
A Wife" are his second and third book on the subject.
Hopefully, I can carry on with the disaster that occurs
at the Home Ranch tomorrow.
The purpose of this web site is to draw attention to a
remote area of west central British Columbia. It is a
beautiful area that relies heavily on tourism. The search
engines don't know much about the West Chilcotin, Anahim
Lake, Nimpo Lake or any of the other small communities
in the region and I hope to change that! Even as large
as this site will eventually be, there just isn't enough
room or time in the day to fully describe this incredible
country but I am going to try scraping away at the tip
of the iceberg, so join me!
the links, and see what the West Chilcotin is really like!