Through the Mountains
“The Headwaters of the Canoe River,” painting by James Vanslyk, Valemount Historical Society. Columbia Basin Institute of Regional History, Valemount Historical Society, & Kootenay Gallery of Art, History & Science, image number 0105.0001
In 1841, Governor Simpson travelled west from Fort Garry, on Red River, to the Columbia district. Here’s a continuation of our History Mystery, which began with this post: https://nancymargueriteanderson.com/rough-notes/ and continues here: https://nancymargueriteanderson.com/simpsons-rough-notes/
In my last post in this series I brought Simpson and his party to the base of the mountains and a little beyond. I said this: “The journal, and (I believe), the book does not mention the Sinclair Expedition who is following in their footsteps, having apparently decided not to take Simpson’s advice to cross the mountains by Athabasca Pass.” But of course, I was wrong when I said that. Before the two parties reached the mountains, they were travelling through Blackfoot Territory. The people of the Sinclair Expedition, and those of Governor Simpson’s party, travelled together from Edmonton House to the mountains, with all of them under the protection of John Rowand, a man who was well known to the Blackfoot. But once they reached the mountains, each party took its own path, it seems.
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So, we ended the last post with this, from the book, An Overland Journey Round the World, written by Governor Simpson himself.
About seven hours of hard work brought us to the height of land, the hinge, as it were, between the eastern and the western waters. We breakfasted on a level isthmus which did not exceed fourteen paces in width, filling our kettles for this our lonely meal at once from the crystal sources of the Columbia and the Saskatchewan, while these welling feeders of two opposite oceans, murmuring over their beds of mossy stones as if to bid each other a long farewell, could hardly fail to attune our minds to the sublimity of the scene. But between these kindred fountains, the common progeny of the same snow-wreaths, there was this remarkable difference of temperature, that the course of the Columbia showed 40 degrees, while that of the Saskatchewan raised the mercury to 53 1/2 degress, the thermometer meanwhile standing as high as 71 degrees in the shade.
From the article online, “Red River Metis: The first Large Settler Group in Oregon Territory — Sinclair Expedition to the Oregon Territory,” the following is the route that James Sinclair and his party took to cross the mountains to the Kootenay River — “They travelled up the Bow River, ascended the Spray River, crossed White Man Pass, descended the Cross River to the Kootenay Valley, and then ascended Sinclair Creek across the narrow Stanford Range to descend Sinclair Canyon, the site of modern Radium Hot Springs, now named for their leader.” That information, I am delighted to find, comes from an article by I.M. Spry, “Routes through the Rockies,” The Beaver, 294(2), Autumn 1953, p. 26-39. I am going to have to find that article!
Looking through my old 1953 Gazetteer of Canada/British Columbia, I find that there is no Spray River listed, but there is a Spray Pass, “On Alta./BC boundary, headwaters of Albert River, Kootenay District (50 degrees, 115′ NE.).” Spray River is a tributary of the Bow River, in Alberta, and is in Banff National Park. (Obviously as it is in Alberta, it does not get a listing in the BC Gazetteer.) But other places do: White Man Pass: Alberta/BC boundary, headwaters of Cross River, Kootenay District, (50 degrees, 115 NE.) White Man Mountain is here too, South east of White Man Pass. Cross River flows S.E. into Kootenay River, N. of Palliser River, Kootenay District (50 degrees, 115 NW.) Kootenay River, Flows SW into Columbia River south of Castlegar, BC (49 degrees 117′ SW.) Sinclair Creek, flows southwest and northwest into Columbia R. W of Radium Hot Springs P.O., Kootenay District (50 degrees, 116′ NE.) Sinclair Canyon is here, too: Along Sinclair Creek, W. of Radium Hot Springs PO, W of Columbia River, Kootenay District (to degrees 116′ NE.) And the Stanford Range lies between the Columbia and Kootenay Rivers.
Remember that there are two sections of the Columbia River in this part of the world: the part that flows north from its founding lake, toward the Big Bend — and the part that flows south from Big Bend, passing though the Arrow Lakes to (and past) the place where Fort Colvile stands. Here they are speaking of the part of the river that flows north.
Simpson travelled over the Rocky Mountains, apparently up the Red Deer and Little Red Deer river, Devil’s Gap; passing Lake Minnewanka (which he name Peechee Lake for his guide); crossed two branches of Bow River; and on August 2 he reached the traverse of Bow River and crossed at the lower of the two traverses. These traverses were two miles apart. According to this article, “The Passes of the Rocky Mountains along the Alberta Boundary,” by J.N. Wallace [Historical Society of Calgary, 1927], Simpson passed over the site of modern-day town of Banff. The author said that Reverend Robert Terrill Rundle, the missionary, claimed to be the first to visit that place in August 1841. This is August 1841. Wasn’t Rundle still travelling with Simpson? If so, he didn’t cross the mountains, but returned to Edmonton House with one of the First Nations or Métis guides: probably the guide that abandoned the Sinclair Expedition at the base of the mountains.
Anyway, from Banff, Simpson travelled seven hours from the Bow River to the height of land in the pass that bears his name: Simpson Pass. This is what he called “the Hinge.” Simpson’s party then “went down Vermilion and Kootenay Rivers, following the present Windermere Road, and over Sinclair Pass on the local divide. When he was camped the day before he reached the modern Radium Springs, he remarks that the only two routes by which they could have crossed the mountains in that region, converged at this camp.” And the author then goes on to say that Sinclair took a route south of the route that Simpson travelled, which was infinitely better than his own route. “The only pass which would agree with this is Whiteman’s [White Man’s] Pass, some 25 miles, in an air line, to the southeast of Simpson Pass. It is at the head of a branch of Spray River, and the route up to it seems to have been in those days, as now, from the Bow River at Canmore….Whiteman’s Pass is 7,112 feet, some 200 feet higher than Simpson Pass.”
Where’s Vermilion River? It flows south into Kootenay River, north west of Cross River, Kootenay District (50 degrees, 116 NE.) So, let’s carry on with the journey. From “Rough Notes” — “Descending. In half mile felt a difference in the climate, the trees also differ.” In the book, An Overland Journey Round the World during the years 1841 and 1841:
On resuming our march, we had not descended half a mile before we felt a difference in the climate, a change noticed by all travellers in these regions; and the trees were also of finer growth. Whatever may be the reason of the sudden alteration, the same clouds have been known to clothe the eastern side with hail and snow, and to refresh the western with gentle rain. With reference, however, to the state of the atmosphere, the temperature of the water is somewhat anomalous for after a lapse of two or three days, the stream which we followed was subsequently found to be still half a degree cooler than the source of the Bow River on the height of land.
From “Rough Notes,” “August 5. Ford the river 23 times… a whole days march only 20 miles.” From the book, An Overland Journey,
Next morning we forded the river twenty-three times, each attempt becoming, of course, more difficult than the preceding one, and we crossed it once more, immediately before breakfast, near its confluence with another stream of about equal magnitude. During this single march the fifty feet of yesterday evening had swollen out into a hundred yards; and the channel was so deep that the packs got soaked on the backs of the horses…
Our two men who had been sent to the upper traverse of the Bow River in quest of [Edouard] Berland [see last post], were here to rejoin us; and accordingly, just as we were mounting for our afternoon’s march, they arrived with the unwelcome news that they had seen no traces either of horses or of guide. If Berland had kept his appointment at all, our only remaining chance was to look for him at a crossing place on the Bow River, about a day’s march below our own traverse; and accordingly, as La Graisse, one of the men who had just returned, gallantly volunteered, along with an Iroquois of the name of José Tyantas, to undertake this forlorn hope of an expedition, we forthwith dispatched the hardy fellows with a little pemmican and a few pairs of mocassins, leaving them to supply all other wants with their guns.
Joseph Tayentas is here: he is the long time guide of the York Factory Express, who died of of a lung disease at Fort Vancouver on February 28, 1848. According to Thomas Lowe, Tayentas was “considered one of the most efficient men in the Columbia.” If he took out the York Factory Express every year for eight years (as Lowe said), he was guide from 1840 to 1847. But he can’t have been guide in 1841, because he is here. And Lowe might not have known Tayentas wasn’t at Fort Vancouver in 1841, because he himself only arrived at Fort Vancouver in 1843. We continue from the book,
Our afternoon’s work was exceedingly slow and laborious, as we had to pass through an intricate forest along the banks of the river. Having crossed a very steep hill with the view of encamping, by Peechee’s advice, on the borders of a small lake, we were disappointed to find nothing but its dried bed, without a single drop of water in it; and being alike unable to advance, and unwilling to return, we sent back our men for water with the whole of our surviving stock of pots and kettles. As an evidence of the difficulties of our route, our whole day’s march did not exceed twenty miles.
So Peechee is still here. From the “Rough Notes,” “6 August. Bad roads, rugged and boggy, mountainous with thick and tough forests, prostrate trees, 2 miles in 4 hours. From this labyrinth or clear plain [? probably my transcription error] a lofty mountain mark from its base the Kootenais flows to the south & Columbia to the north, uniting a little above Fort Colvile.” So they have reached the junction of the Vermilion River with the Kootenay. I think I got that right, and didn’t get too confused here. From the Book:
Next morning, however, our bad roads surpassed themselves. Besides being mountainous, the ground was rugged and boggy; the forests were thick and tangled; and prostrate trees, of large dimensions, piled and interlaced together, barricaded our track. Leading our horses, we forced our way along by winding about in every direction, by hewing or removing fallen trunks, and by making the animals, according to circumstances, leap, or scramble, or crouch. At the end of about four hours we had not accomplished more than two miles.
Emerging from this labyrinth on a clear plain [oh, now it makes sense], where a good road lay along the precipitous banks of the river, of about a hundred and fifty feet in height, one of the horses, which fortunately had neither rider nor pack, missed its footing but was caught by the trees on its way down. We breakfasted near a lofty mountain, which was to form our afternoon’s work. Its base was washed not only. by the Kootenais, but also by the Columbia properly so called, the former sweeping far to the south, and the latter still farther to the north in order to unite their waters a little above Fort Colvile.
An interruption: This makes sense but its not clear. He is actually saying that from this point, the Columbia River flows to the north until it rounds the Big Bend, then flows south again on the other side of the mountain range to the west of where they are. The Kootenay, on the other hand, flows south and then turns west, and north, and passing through that same mountain range, flows into the Columbia River (which is now flowing south from the Big Bend), joining it opposite modern day Castlegar, in what is now British Columbia.
But here is my question: What did they do with the horse? Did they just leave it there? Did they rescue it? And how did they rescue it? To continue:
After marching about an hour we reached the nearer side of the mountain, where, in consequence of Peechee’s representations as to the impossibility alike of crossing it before dark, and of encamping on it for the night, we reluctantly halted at the early hour of five o’clock. Three wearied and disabled horses were here abandoned with a faint hope of their being subsequently recovered, if in their present helpless condition, they could only protect themselves from the wolves.
From “Rough Notes,” “7 August. Ascent of the mountain rugged and difficult. First track on the edge of a [plain?] down which a tributary of the Columbia goes. Sombre pines. An abrupt descent brought us to a level prairie, the river course serpentine. 20 miles. Here the only two routes converge, the Emigrants finding a pass superior to ours fell upon our track again.” From the Book,
The ascent of the mountain was rugged and difficult. Though the forests were more practicable than those of yesterday, yet our track lay generally on the steep and stony edge of a glen, down which gushed the sources of the Columbia. At one very remarkable spot, known as the Red Rock, our path climbed the dry part of the bed of a boiling torrent, while the narrow ravine was literally darkened by almost perpendicular walls of a thousand or fifteen hundred feet in height; and to render the chasm still more gloomy, the opposite crags threw forward each its own forest of sombre pines into the intervening space. The rays of the sun could barely find their way to the depths of this dreary vale, so as to render the darkness visible; and the hoarse murmur of the angry stream, as it bounded to escape from the dismal jaw of its prison, only to make the place appear more lonely and desolate. We were glad to emerge from this horrid gorge, which depressed our spirits even more than it overawed our feelings.
Another troop of travellers passed over this route — that is, Sinclair’s route — but did not describe it except to say that they did not recommend this route as a passage across the mountains for troops. This party of men consisted of Peter Skene Ogden, Richard Lane, Henry James Warre, and Mervin Vavasour, and their attendants. Governor Simpson was the man who recommended this route to them.
And Captain John Palliser might have come through this pass, too, as his name is on a landmark here. I will have to check that out! I also recently realized that there was another group of men who used one of the other of these two trails across the mountains: the men who drove the Saskatchewan horses from Edmonton House to Fort Colvile in 1851. They would have used Sinclair’s route, and John Rowand knew about Sinclair’s route because he was there when Simpson chose the wrong trail. See this post: https://nancymargueriteanderson.com/saskatchewan-horses/
When I write the next post, it will appear here: https://nancymargueriteanderson.com/to-fort-colvile/
Copyright, Nancy Marguerite Anderson, 2025. All rights reserved.