Frank Boucher’s Malahat Adventure Makes Today’s Driving Look Easy!

For the British Columbia government that 20-kilometre stretch of mountainous road known as ‘The Malahat’ must be an ongoing headache because of the never-ending calls to “fix it.”

For 25,000 motorists who daily drive the ‘Hat there’s the frustration of repeated, hours-long closures because of accidents and construction. Several times this past summer, trying to get to and from work on time must have seemed like shooting craps.

The fact remains, we modern-day drivers are spoiled.

Toiday’s paved Malahat, for all its curves and climbs, is nothing like it was in the good old days when a trip between Victoria and Duncan could take up to eight hours or more because of road conditions.

It was quicker to take the train.

Back then, the Malahat was little more than “a glorified trail, narrow in places, gravel, many curves and potholes”.

That’s Frank B. Boucher speaking. During Canada’s centennial, he recalled his first and most memorable encounter with this geographical challenge. In 1911, fresh from the Old Country and new to the Island, he took up chicken farming in the Cowichan Valley with his future brother-in-law and, “like all newcomers,” he modestly allowed in 1967, “I was pretty ‘green’ to Canadian ways, and had to learn the hard way.

“We needed a horse and rig so my future wife [Muriel] and I took a trip to Victoria, she to visit her sister, and I to buy a horse and rig. [Although he didn’t mention it, they likely went to Victoria by train.] In those days, on the corner of Blanshard and Yates [streets]…was a building, formerly a church, then used as a produce market…

“I met the owner of a fruit and vegetable stall who was willing to sell a horse and democrat [buggy], providing he could finish his day’s deliveries. He would leave the horse and outfit at Bray’s livery barn with instructions to take care of everything and I would call for it at 8 o’clock next morning.”

Although Boucher couldn’t remember all those years later how much he paid for the outfit, he was sure, in retrospect, that “it was plenty”.

Shades of buying your first used car!

“I discussed with Bray’s the best way to get the outfit to Cowichan. He [sic] suggested I go by road which would take me six to eight hours. I decided to do this.”

It was decided that Muriel’s sister Maud would accompany them. As her baggage was quite heavy, it was sent separately (likely by rail) and the threesome set out with the newly-purchased horse and buggy at nine o’clock in the morning.

The Island Highway, such as it was, began on the northern outskirts of the city, at Douglas Street and Gorge Road, crossed Craigflower Bridge, turned right (north) through View Royal, Colwood and Langford to Goldstream where the Malahat road began its ascent as it does today, then on down the far side to Mill Bay.

The undulating goat track of 1911 was nothing like today’s multi-laned blacktop.
And Frank Boucher’s old horse and democrat were nothing like today’s automobiles.

It was hot, he remembered, when they reached Langford Lake, about noon, where they rested over lunch. “Houses were scarce. In fact, from Craigflower Bridge to the end of our journey there was practically nothing but high cliffs and forests.”

Upon resuming their journey and beginning the long Malahat climb, the horse “started slowing up. I got out and walked, then Muriel got out and walked, then we all three got out and walked. Finally, before we reached the Summit, we three were walking and dragging the horse.”

They didn’t make the Summit until sundown, when they paused to rest and to finish what little food they had left. Boucher had to admit that the view (as it is all these years later) was “gorgeous, looking across to Mount Baker. Unfortunately, we were too tired to appreciate it.”

By then it was getting dark.
Fortunately, downhill was easier although their tired horse, despite his having been lightened of his human cargo, continued to require frequent pit-stops. At last, “at the foot of the hill we came to the seashore, Mill Bay, and what was best of all, a spring of fresh water [still there today]. Even the horse enjoyed this.

“We had no idea of time and we were too tired to care. A little farther on we came across the first signs of inhabitance, the framework of a new house. We contemplated staying here for the rest of the night, then saw lights in a house about a mile away. This raised our hopes. We called, asked where we were and if there was a chance to stay the night and get something to eat.”

The homeowners couldn’t put them up for the night but did “give us a good meal and rest,” telling the weary travellers that they had only six more miles to go!

“It was then past midnight. We tried riding again but it was no good so we walked. We arrived home about 3 o’clock in the morning, sadder but wiser.”

Frank Boucher made many trips over the Malahat in following years.

But none were so memorable as that one. As for the horse, he sadly concluded, “From what I learned later, [it] had been worked rather hard with deliveries, was not used to gravel roads, and was not very young.”

So you still think driving the Malahat is a drag, even hazardous to your health? Perhaps we should all slow doqwn drive more carefully and, if we can’t truly appreciate those million-dollar views at the posted speeds, we can at least acknowledge the fact that things could be a whole lot worse.

Think of it this way: Whatever the road conditions we face today, we don’t have to walk the whole distance, mostly up-hill, dragging a tired old horse and buggy behind us!