94 Ducking Bullets at Burnt Bridge

Some of the most enjoyable times with family and friends I owe to Claude Brousson who introduced me to the recreational pastime of camping. We had not been long in our new home and had hardly settled in when Claude befriended us. He and his family soon became our closest friends and we could be found at each other’s places most weekends. As Claude and Donna with their kids were camping fanatics, before we knew it, we were out with them any nice weekend and some not so nice, throughout the summer.

Mandy was just a baby when we got into this camping thing and she used to sit eating sand to the point that it reminded me of an ad on TV about these little plastic people with the big bottoms and the line went, “Weebles wobble but they won’t fall down.” I figured that she had so much sand in her bottom that she just like a Weeble would never fall over. I guess sand is not toxic as Mandy never got plugged up or sick from eating too much.

But on with the story. I will never forget a long weekend at Burnt Bridge along the Koksilah River just west of Shawnigan Lake. We loved this spot as it was usually not to crowded and the Koksilah River wondered its way through the area with dozens of places to set up your rig. This particular weekend was more then busy much to our dismay but we had gotten there early enough to find a good spot along with three or four other families.

I can still remember how lovely the weekend had turned out to be as we were just sitting there relaxing in the warm sunshine with not a care in the world. When suddenly we heard a gunshot off in the distance, but our complacency suddenly turned into terror as seconds later we heard the whistle of bullets as they shot over our heads and splattered into the trees. Everyone quickly dived for cover as fast as they could but the bullets kept whizzing by. It seemed longer then I’m sure it was, until the last shot was fired and we could again breathe easy. Our hearts eventually quite pounding and we all finally dug ourselves out of hiding, none the worse for the experience, but still a bit shaken and a little less trusting.

We drove back to the nearest RCMP Detachment at Shawnigan Lake but there was nothing they could do, or were willing to do until someone was shot. That did not make any of us feel very relieved, as no one was willing to sacrifice himself so the rest of us could rest easy for the weekend, at least not me, and Claude did not think he was read to sacrifice himself as yet, so we just nervously waited for the weekend to end.