fyrephreak

Posted in news by fyrephreak on 2009-09-02. Viewed 866 time(s).

Our adventure begins much like many mine expeditions, with the roar of a four wheel drive engine overtaking long haul truckers and campers as we thread our way through the Rocky mountains. All was going smoothly as we wound through the BC interior, tunes were righteous, and passing lanes were plentiful. We encountered our first major obstacle as we stopped for dinner. We noted nothing amiss as we made our orders, and sat blissfully unaware to the monster that was being created in the kitchen. We had stumbled into what could only be termed an American portioned tourist trap. The schnitzel Matt and I had ordered came on a plate reinforced with flying buttresses. Barely a dent was made on both our parts before we surrendered the remains to be boxed up by the waiter, whose knowing smile convinced us he was in on the joke the whole time. We retreated back to the truck, awkwardly dragging/carrying what we would soon discover to be the new Glade air freshener scent, as the aroma of several pounds of schnitzel permeated the cab. Arriving at the Astroturf abode long after sunset, we checked in with the jovial innkeeper and began stowing the multitude of bags, bins, and backpacks away. Anticipating an early start the following morning. lights went out in short order, and soon visions of drop shafts and stopes filled our dreams. .

After a nice breakfast in the small town cafe, (chai shakes, only in BC) pretty angry truck eagerly tore up the well-maintained mining road, where we were to meet with the Canmore crew, who had tented next to the glory hole. A sullen looking pair greeted us as we pulled up, and proceeded to explain they had managed to get thier vehicle trapped at the base of a short, but quite steep incline, littered with loose soil that laughed at any attempt at traction. Walking the short way to the embattled SUV, we assessed the terrain, cut some brush away, and made another attempt, only crossing the incline slightly more than attacking it directly. With a defiant growl and a most impressive nine point turn, thier SUV was up, over, and out, vastly improving the spirits of the Canmore crew.

The approach from the road to the glory hole is deceptively unassuming. A small fissure in a barefaced wall forces you to almost crawl, pushing or pulling packs along, opens up into a staggeringly massive and beautiful manmade chasm. It is almost impossible to describe or even photograph the scale, but I made an attempt anyway. Rigging our first anchors off the elevator mounts at the top of the shaft on the 2650 level. Over one thousand feet of rope divided amonsgt us. Flashlights, harnesses, cameras, hopes, dreams, fears all strapped to our back.
Drop down into the shaft, a cramped space set at a 75 degree angle. It's no more than three feet at its widest, with partitions at regular intervals that force you to lie flat on the wet, decaying ladder in order to squeeze through. Rusted pipes share the chase, with cracks clean through the sidewalls, threatening any that would dare put any weight on it. At times, wrist thick copper cables, bright blue with oxidation, snake thier way down the shaft and force awkward shifting and twisting in order to navigate around them. It's difficult to grasp, that in this clausterphobic nightmare, the bottom of the shaft is 750 feet below. Levels are set at 100 foot intervals, and are labelled by thier altitude above sea level. Descent is slow, one person in the shaft at any time, lest debris loosened by one rain down and smite hapless others below.

The first leg runs smoothly, the descender calls out when he's off rope, and the next in line descends. It's muddy, wet, sweaty, abrasive work. Your legs are angry with you as you reach the next level. Second leg goes a little faster, as we hit our stride. At the 2450 level, We peel out one of the long ropes and decide to save some time by skipping a level. After waiting 20 minutes for the clear signal, we realise that by skipping a level and doubling the vertical distacne between the top and bottom group, we lose verbal contact. We're 200 and 400 feet underground respectively. There is no margin of error. A minor incident at this depth could easily end in a fatality. After some talk, I descend the gap between the two groups with out my pack, and we establish that no matter how long the line is, we absolutley must stop at every level in order to maintain safe communication. After descesding 200 feet, then ascending 200 feet, then descending once more with my pack, our group is safely reunited at level 2250, which turns out to have a very neat surprise for us.

Down a short tunnel, we enter into what we discover is the bottom of the glory hole chasm. A skylight well over 450 feet above our heads permits overcast daylight. We're deep inside a mountain, and yet Natural light is still able to reach us. Incredible. We find numerous golf balls, and the shells of several fireworks, apparently set alight and thrown down.. It's been 6 hours. We've made it just over halfway to our projected goal of level 1900. After some discussion, it's decided that we should probably ascend before it gets too late and we get too tired. It takes us two hours to ascend, pulling our ropes as we go, pack up, and haul everything out of the mine. We drop off our gear at the astroturf abode and manage to make it to Nelson just before last call and have a delicious dinner to finalise what was an incredibly exhausting, but epic day. Lessons were learned, and plans laid for a dominating return.

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