On our way south from the Salmon Galcier, our spirits were high. There were two reasons for this: first, we were headed to Telkwa Pass, and unlike our first visit with fog and cloudy skies, it was a blue bird day. Second - and I assure you, just as importantly - we'd overridden Google Maps suggestion and found a 4-miles-longer route back to Terrace, BC that was paved; we wouldn't have to suffer through the swiss-cheese-road we'd endured on the way north!
We arrived in Terrace at almost the exact minute we'd shown up 24 hours earlier, and pulled into the same gas station, to eat the same lunch. The sense of deja vu was real.
A little after 1:00pm, we began to retrace our steps to Telkwa. We were headed east this time instead of west, giving us an entirely new perspective on a trail that we already knew to be spectacular. Right off the bat, the Copper River had us hooked.
Within minutes of gaining the trail, disaster: it was clear from the dust hanging in the air that there was someone in front of us. What if they were headed to our camp site? What if it wasn't our camp site, but was their camp site? Luckily, it didn't take us long to catch up to the dust.
Generated by a big rig low-boy heading into the mountains to pick up a dozer, we breathed a sigh of relief. Actually, with all the dust getting kicked up into the air, we were lucky to be breathing at all, and were only doing so because we had a new AdventureTaco Cabin Air Filter installed in the Tacoma, saving both our lungs and the inside of the truck from becoming a dusty mess!
We followed that low boy for nearly 25 miles, and it was pure hell. Any other time, I'd have pulled over to the side of the road and waited for twenty minutes for it to get far enough ahead that the dust would settle, but putting stress testing the air filter was a good excuse to hope that he'd see our lights and pull over. In fact, I'm convinced that he did see our lights, but he definitely did not pull over!
Eventually of course, he stopped to pick up the dozer that'd been contracted for transport, and suddenly we could see again. We were many miles deeper in the mountains, and the views were already better than we'd experienced the previous morning.
It was about this time - or perhaps just slightly before - that we had a decision to make: beeline it for the campsite, or investigate a couple spur roads I'd marked on the map. Surely if it'd been a Tuesday or Wednesday, we'd have taken our time and checked out the roads, but on a Friday afternoon - when there might be folks headed up to camp for the weekend - we decided to forego the side trips and get to camp as early as possible.
And so, soon we were climbing the first of two enormous landslides as we neared the lakes at the top of the pass.
The bigger issue was getting through the gigantic rockslide that'd taken place in spring 2025. Covering nearly a half-mile of trail, few enough people had crossed it in the preceding year that it was still a rocky mess with several off-camber turns and plenty of steep, loose sections where people seem to spin their wheels, hope for the best, and then usually give up and turn around. We'd covered this section of trail downhill the previous morning, so while some of the off-camber turns were a little exciting, gravity was there to keep us on the move.
Up was a different story, but with beefy tires and careful throttle control, we worked our way through the slide with little fanfare. Gotta love what this little old truck can do!
Working our way through what I've since heard referred to as "driving through a waterfall," and then over a few more not-worth-mentioning landslides and rockfalls, we rounded the final bend to the lake. We looked at each other. The moment of truth. We were about to know if the campsite was ours.
Peering over the dash, we both started laughing. The site we coveted was hidden by a flank of the mountain; we'd have to cover another mile before we'd get our answer.
We were thrilled to find the spot just as we'd left it - empty! Unlike every other day on this trip, it was only 3:30pm and we'd reached camp. With sunset just after 9:00pm, that left plenty of time for a few photos and a nap before we even had to think about dinner.
On our way up the trail, we'd passed a 4Runner and Lexus GX470. We had no idea if they'd make it thorugh the landslide, but as our flying camera captured the surroundings from above, we heard the sound of Toyota engines working their way along the shoreline. It's always fun to run into folks like this, and a few minutes later, Jordy, Sandy, and Nicole had joined us on the beach, all of us sharing stories of where we'd been, along with plans for the next few days.
It sure would be nice if our little buddy could have continued to explore the surroundings while we napped, but that guy needs constant supervision and is always hungry for electrons, so after spending half an hour making sure it didn't get into trouble that it couldn't get itself out of, we unfolded the tent and opened up our Kindles. Three minutes later - the sound of the water all around us and a light breeze blowing through the valley - we drifted off to sleep.
One of the great things about naps is that - at least to those who are usually on-the-go - they seem like such a luxury. For us, they are a special treat, enjoyed rarely, and almost always on a day where our plans - for some reason - didn't work out quite as we expected.
I think it was finally around 7:00pm when we finally broke the read-sleep-read cycle long enough to eat dinner. This - somewhat unusually - also took place in the tent, so we could avoid the mosquitoes hoping to make dinner out of us!
And then, our bellies full, it was back to the activities we'd enjoyed so thoroughly all afternoon. Reading. And sleeping. We eventually added and intermission of teeth brushing. It was the perfect way to pass the time in this most magical of sites!
The following morning...
We were up early the next morning. As usual, we had a full day - and then some - on the itinerary. Even getting out of camp before sunrise, we weren't sure whether it'd be light or dark when we'd next have the opportunity to lay down.
Now, though, was not time to worry about the future, it was time to soak in the pastel skies of morning in the mountains.
For the last few mornings, we'd been dealing with a passenger rear tire that had a slow leak and - especially when aired down - would go flat overnight. This morning was no different, but as we tried to air up, the ARB compressor wouldn't build pressure. It was, I think, an issue with the seals being cold - and thus slightly smaller, which resulted in them not sealing - because after allowing the engine to warm up the compressor a bit, it started working again and we were soon underway.
Our trip down the eastern flank of the pass was reasonably uneventful. This was the section of trail we'd driven - in the opposite direction - on our last visit, and most of the views were now in our mirrors.
Still, even with our sights set on a trail not too far away, we tried to enjoy the colors of the morning as we descended toward town.
Little did we know that the views we were still raving about were but the tip of the iceberg. Or - as the case may be here in the Hazelton Mountains - the tip of the glacier! But that is another story.
The Whole Story
