Day 7

Looking back at fifty, I see Day 7 as the moment our "epic" plan finally collided with the vertical reality of British Columbia. We rose early in Hope, hunting for groceries before the town truly woke up, knowing we might not see another store until Princeton. Getting onto the Kettle Valley Railway involved a bit of a scavenger hunt that led us to a locked gate; we had to unhitch the trailers and slide all our gear underneath just to start the day.

The Quintette tunnels were a visceral experience. The soot-stained walls and the absolute, oppressive darkness—cut only by our meager headlights—felt like traveling back in time. Emerging from that darkness onto bridges spanning the frothy Coquihalla River canyon was breathtaking. But the charm of the trail ended quickly when it became impassable, forcing us onto the Coquihalla Highway.

The climb that followed was a masterclass in physical endurance. We started at an elevation of 42 meters in Hope and finished the day at 1244 meters. There’s a specific kind of mental fatigue that comes with a "7% grade" sign; we eventually had to dismount and push our loaded bikes for kilometers until we reached a snow shed near the top. Wendy and I were riding a bit slower on the descent, which turned out to be a blessing—we caught a sighting of a black bear by the side of the road that the others completely missed.

We finally reached the toll booth, where the attendant joked that they should be paying us for biking up there. We ended the day scrambling down a highway embankment to reach a closed campground. Malcolm, the owner, took pity on us and let us set up our tents among the lingering patches of snow. Exhausted and dry for the first time in days, the reality of the KVR’s "gruesome" reputation was finally starting to sink in.

We rise early and leave our motel in good time, biking into Hope in search of groceries. We leave Hope on Kettle Valley Road, which dead ends at a gate. We have to unhitch our trailers and slide all of our gear underneath. The trail goes through a thick forest with the Coquihalla River below.

Before long, we come to the first of the Quintette tunnels. It is about 18 feet tall and the outside edges are still stained with soot from train smoke stacks. Some tunnels are connected only by a bridge spanning the frothy river carving its way through a canyon. It is spectacular.

We eventually get onto the Coquihalla Highway. The highway runs parallel to the Coquihalla River. Around midday, we stop for a picnic. A friend of Wendy's who joined us appeared to be very exhausted from the riding; he was sitting on the edge of the hill when he started to wobble and lean dangerously over the edge. Wendy managed to steady him, but his helmet tumbled down the hill before being retrieved.

We start climbing again, eventually dismounting to push our bikes up a 7% grade hill for a kilometre or two until we reach a large snow shed. It is exhilarating looking back and realizing what we have accomplished. It is around 4:00p that we reach the Coquihalla Summit. We left Hope at 42m and are now at 1244m—a climb of over 1.2km.

The highway descends, and we eventually regroup. Blue and Wendy catch up and tell us they saw a bear off the side of the road. We reach a line of toll booths, and the friendly collector says she should pay us for having biked all the way up here! We scramble down an embankment to a campground that is actually closed, but the owner, Malcolm, says it is okay for us to pitch our tents. He graciously brings us fresh water and we learn it snowed here just last week.