Warner Lake to Tyax Lodge: Alpine Mountain Biking Mayhem

Imagine taking a floatplane up into a remote alpine wilderness area, then cruising back down on your mountain bike along miles of single-track alpine trails. Just picture the stunning vistas and flower covered meadows that abound as you gently glide by.

That’s basically what was going through my mind when I signed up for the Warner Lake flyout from Tyax Lodge. Three friends were planning to make the trip this past week and invited me along as the fourth. “How hard can it be?” I asked myself. “After all, I commute to work on my bike most days.” Little did I know what I was getting myself into. Words like “cruising”, “glide” and “gentle” most certainly did not apply.

Our group consisted of three old guys and one young one. My buddy Dave, his friend Daniel and I are all 40-ish. Dave’s son Ewan is closer to 15. Regardless of age, we were confident that we could handle whatever challenges the trip had in store for us.

Tyax Lodge is located on Tyaughton Lake in the Southern Chilcotin Mountains of British Columbia. My friends and I loaded down my Explorer with four mountain bikes and mountains of gear and set off on the five hour drive from Vancouver to the lake. During the summer, the best route is to head north to Pemberton, then over the Hurley River Forestry road to Gold Bridge. The forestry road climbs high into the Coast Mountains, providing some spectacular views. It’s a pretty rough trek, though, with enough washboard to test even the hardiest of vehicle shocks. Still, we were encouraged by the blue skies on our journey, as they seemed to contradict the weatherman’s prediction of rain showers.

A wide range of accommodation is available at the lake, from five star chalets at the Tyax Lodge, to a free provincial campground (carefully located out of sight from the lodge). We chose not to break the bank, and pitched our tents lakeside. The guys were wondering whether or not to bother using tent flies. The increasing intensity of rainfall as night progressed made me glad I did.

6:30 AM came early, and the low cloud cover and steady drizzle had us worried whether the plane would actually fly. Warner Lake is located at an elevation where hazardous weather conditions can occur any time of year. Our pilot said he’d fly up to the general area, but wouldn’t decide until we got there if wind and cloud would prevent us from landing. He also mentioned that he was quite surprised that we had managed to get permission to do this ride without having either a guide or previous experience in the area. None of us said anything. My confidence began to wane a tad.

The floatplane trip to Warner Lake is quite spectacular, and often one of the highlights of the day. We were treated to a somewhat dampened version, although it was beautiful nonetheless. Once above the lake, our pilot announced that we were lucky and he touched down through the rain.

Mind you, disembarking from a plane during a downpour in a remote wilderness area while looking up through your breath at fresh snow may not be what some people consider as being lucky.

There was no time for dilly-dallying. The plane departed, we were cold, wet and had a very long day ahead of us.

Our route would take us more than 40 km, from an elevation of 6100 ft at Warner Lake to 3300 ft back at Tyaughton Lake. And, if our initial several hundred yards were any indication, we were in for one tough slog. The literature describes the first 5 km as “technical”. We quickly learned that the definition of technical is “hike and bike”, which meant that we were carrying our bikes up and down over goat trails as much as we were riding them.

After skirting its way along the edge of Warner Lake, across scree slopes and through sparse forest, the trail begins to provide somewhat better opportunities for actually riding a bike. Our group fell into a pretty consistent pattern. Ewan, the fearless teenager, was our “litmus rider”. We’d send him down the sketchy bits, and if he crashed, the three of us would walk our bikes. If Ewan struggled, but still managed to make it without ending up head first in the rocks, then Dave and Dan were about 50-50 as to whether they’d have a go. If Ewan appeared to have any difficulty at all, my bike was on my shoulder until the next flat stretch.

The trail follows Gun Creek past a number of other lakes and through countless mountain meadows. There were several places where it was tough to follow, but Dave was well prepared and had some topo-maps that came in very handy. The views and vistas were indeed spectacular, even with cloud cover. Of course, one must never take their eyes off the track while actually riding. Any time I tried to glance up at a mountain peak or glacier while pedaling, I inevitably found myself tumbling down a rock face or up close and personal with a mud puddle.

At the end of this 40 km toil through the alpine wilderness, the track gives way to a dirt rode that leads back to Tyaughton Lake. If you were on a guided tour, this is the point where your day would end. You’d be met by a van and be cracking your first beer. Otherwise, you will need to pedal your way back to the lake.

The road provides a welcome change from the unpredictable surface of the dirt track. However, it also adds an extra 6 or 7 kilometers to an already grueling day. In addition, there is a three kilometer uphill section right in the middle that proved to be the end of me. Fortunately, Dave is in much better shape than me, and had plenty of time to get back to camp, down a beer, and bring the truck back as I reached the crest of the hill. If he hadn’t brought me a cold one, I’d have almost resented the fact that it took him so long.

Our bikes were muddy and our bodies were sweaty, scraped and bruised. We each took a turn at wading out into the lake for a little hose down and clean up before dinner. Each of us except me, that is. I chose to sit myself down in the lake and stare dumbfounded at the far shore, rain drizzling all around. I drank a beer in silence, and assessed the rather extensive personal damage.

It was too late in the day to head back to Vancouver, and we were all probably too tired for the drive. Instead, we had a wonderful meal at the Tyax lodge, complete with well deserved gin martinis. I slept soundly that night, completely unaware of the cacophony of snoring coming from our little group of tents.

Warner Lake trail is a challenge for both bike and rider. I was over the handlebars several times, and got close up and comfortable with a number of trees, shrubs and boulders. My bike is a Brodie hybrid bike, designed for light trail riding and street use. It was marginally up to the task. The pads of my rim brakes, which were relatively new, had been worn down to the metal.

Meanwhile, all six foot seven inches of Dan’s frame were on a full suspension bike with disk breaks. It seemed much more appropriate for the terrain, and while my brakes had all but quit half way through the day, he could stop on a dime (or before riding into a fresh pile of horse manure – another trail hazard that I found it hard to avoid) all day long. My advice to those without a good back country bike would be to shell out the few extra bucks and rent one in Whistler or Squamish. Either that or be prepared to have to wash off more than mud when your day is done.

The most common question that people ask after hearing that we did the Warner Lake trail is “Was it fun?”
My answer has become pretty standard.
“Challenging and rewarding? Absolutely. Fun? Well, not exactly…”

For more information, check out:
http://www.tyax.com/bike.html
http://www.tyaxair.com/tours/tours.cfm?catid=1&nav=public-nav.cfm