To Be Or Not To Be

When backcountry routes like British Columbia’s Purcell Mountain Traverse are so raw, inviting and fulfilling, maybe it’s best to just stay away.

- Andrew Findlay

Punishment comes in many forms. A half hour into the trail this morning, the lock on Reg Mullett’s bear spray dislodged, causing it to accidentally fire cayenne pepper in my direction. Tough first date; I’d only met Mullett fewer than 24 hours prior. Now it’s late afternoon as we bench press our bikes, laden with food, tent, sleeping bags and a minimum amount of extra clothing, up steep talus toward a craggy ridgeline deep in British Columbia’s Purcell Mountains. The sting of cayenne lingers on the skin.

To the north, where we started this venture northwest of Invermere yesterday, milky green Vowell Creek curls snakelike among a patchwork of logging cut blocks. Forest fire smoke hangs in the air. With my bike frame balanced on my shoulders, I take one step up, two back. I pause to rest, look up and see Mullett relaxing on an outcrop of crumbling rock, exhibiting perpetual optimism. It’s a mandatory attribute for days like today. With the build of a rugby flanker, Mullett is engineered for this sort of rigor. On the contrary, being 160 pounds soaking wet, I’m fully maxed.