Bannock and Beans: A Cowboy's Account of the Bedaux Expedition

By Bob White and Jay Sherwood

In 1934, in the middle of the Great Depression, millionaire Charles Bedaux spent $250,000 in an attempt to cross northern British Columbia in five motorized vehicles. The Bedaux Expedition ranks as one of the most audacious and unusual events in the province's history. Bannock and Beans tells the story of this extravagant failure from the perspective of one of the cowboys who worked on Bedaux's team. Bob White's reminiscences, recounted in the tradition of the cowboy storyteller, describe the hardships of cutting trails and hauling supplies on horseback, the beauty of the wilderness landscape and many of the unique aspects of the expedition. Bannock and Beans also reveals the complex character of the expedition's leader, Charles Bedaux, a French entrepreneur who made his fortune in the United States. The book includes White's experiences in Bedaux's attempts to develop a ranch in northern BC after the expedition. Editor Jay Sherwood supplements with original Bedaux Expedition correspondence and photographs to show Bedaux's strong attachment to the remote wilderness area of northern BC from 1926 to 1939. Bannock and Beans provides new information and a fresh perspective on this unique event in BC's history. White's memoirs take us back to the campfire stories of people who were part of the vast wilderness that still covered much of the northern part of the province 75 years ago.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Royal British Columbia Museum
• Release date: Sep 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780772678225

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BANNOCK AND BEANS

Preface

I have written out this scrawl mostly for my own benefit – to keep in mind the life we led and who we worked with.

Many have said, Why don’t you make a story out of it?

Well, to begin with I’m not much at this letter writing business, not having spent much of my time in a school room, when I was growing up in the log house on the ranch in the Cypress Hills in Saskatchewan. There were no schools out there in those early days – a few private teachers, then two years at school in St Stevens in New Brunswick from 1914 to 1916. About all I accomplished there was to acquire the name of Herring Choker.

Then in 1928 my life-long ambition came true for a long ride across the country. With a chum and two pack horses I rode 1400 miles to Hudson Hope in northern British Columbia, then onto traplines in winter and pack trails in summer.

I packed the summer of 1930 on a geological survey all over the Peace River Block – Jack Bocock boss, Jack MacDougall, horse wrangler and packer. It was more like a paid holiday, with wet days and mosquitoes thrown in. The only trouble I got into was burning a few bannocks for the crew of three. It was through my good friend Jack Bocock that I got on the Bedaux Expedition.

There have been a number of wild articles written about the Bedaux Expedition, some not very complimentary. One writer referred to our faithful pack horses as a bunch of slat-ribbed cayuses, another called his yarn the Champagne Safari of the North and said the cowboys never had it so good in their lives, living on caviar and champagne. All I can say to them is they should have been with us.

A few years ago I started to write about the Bedaux Expedition but didn’t make much headway until Mrs Shirley Meiers of Medicine Hat took a hand. With her help and encouragement I completed the first section, so many thanks to you, Shirley. Then my good friends Morley and Ruth Wagner of Maple Creek encouraged me with the next section and pictures. Ruth is secretary of our Piapot History Club and has given expert help and advice. She even recruited some willing workers from the Club, Greba, Shelley and Mary Drever. So a big thank you to you all. Without your help I’m sure this scrawl would still be on the draw.

And readers, pleasant reading, but don’t expect too much.

Sincerely,

Bob White, 1983

Bob White on his horse, Smoky, during the Bedaux Expedition. Floyd Crosby photograph; LAC e008300199.

Part One:

The Bedaux Expedition

Joining the Freight Party

It was a nice sunshiny day early in June of 1934. I had just walked over to our little log post office in Hudson Hope to pick up my mail and visit with our postmaster, Fred Monteith, a kindly man and a friend to everyone. In my mail was the long awaited telegram from my good friend Jack Bocock in Edmonton, informing us to go down to Fort St John to start work on the Bedaux Expedition. There were three of us from here who had been offered work as packers: myself, my trapping partner, Bob Godberson, and Willard Freer. We had our application in for a job with the outfit since the middle of the winter. I thought I had a pretty good chance of getting on since I had been out all summer in 1930 on a geological survey with Jack Bocock, who was to be second in command of the expedition. Those of us who did get on considered ourselves lucky for they had over 3500 applications for a job with the expedition.

After coming in off the trapline that spring Bob Godberson and I had busied ourselves at odd jobs, more or less putting in time to see if this Bedaux job was going to materialize. Bob went working in the Hope, while I broke a few horses to ride and also branded and dehorned cattle at several places along the river.

When anyone left our fair city of Hudson Hope it was always an excuse for a dance. The party hung on pretty late, so our departure the next morning was delayed. First we had to build a raft. We cut down a couple of dry jack pines just below town, then hauled a couple more small logs from Joe Turner’s place with the team and wagon, along with our bedrolls and riding gear. We rolled the logs over the steep gravel bank and lashed our raft together with our saddle ropes, then piled on our bed rolls, chaps and spurs. The three of us, Bob Godberson, Willard Freer and I, stepped on and we were on our way.

Willard Freer (left) and Bob Godberson paddling a raft to Fort St John. Bob White family collection.

We had 60 miles to drift with the current to the old Fort St John landing and were lucky to have a warm day. The old Peace was at a fair stage of water, so we made pretty good time. The rock reef above the Gates, about 10 miles downstream, was passed without difficulty for the swift water was in the main channel. We landed above the Gates, looked it over, picked our place and sailed right through. We called in at our friends, the Les Bazelys, on the Ralph Osborne place above the mouth of the Red River [Farrell Creek], where we enjoyed a visit and tea, then on down to the Ardills, where we enjoyed their hospitality and dinner. After that we went back down their hill, on to the raft and out into the current. We had a tarp rigged up as a sail to help speed us along, but only had the odd puff of wind, so it didn’t help much.

We took turns taking naps to make up for the sleep we missed last night, for we intended travelling late to make the Fort if we could. We passed the mouth of the Halfway River, Bear Flat, and then past where Cache Creek enters from the north. It was quite late when we got to the slide area. By 11 o’clock we reached the mouth of the Moberly River coming in from the south. It was getting pretty chilly on the raft, so we decided to camp for the night. There was an old cabin on the bank. On going up to it we found it was occupied by Herb Taylor, an old-timer who was washing for gold along the river bank. He had been asleep, but made us welcome. He said he was glad for the company, so after we had tea and a bite to eat, we rolled out our beds on the floor, which was old Mother Earth. In the morning we had about 10 miles to go. There was a breeze from the west, so we rigged up our sail, which helped push us along, and we made the landing at the old Fort at 10 o’clock.

After unloading the raft we made up our backpacks and started up the steep hill to the north and the three or four miles to the new site of Fort St John. With fair packs we had to rest a time or two climbing the hill. On getting into the post we hunted up Edward Geake, or Nick as we called him. He was to be in charge of the advance freight outfit that we were to join. We went into camp a mile north of town on Bert Ambrose’s place on Fish Creek.

Our first job was to pick out between 50 and 60 head of horses for our outfit. We had all kinds of fun trying out new horses. Bill Pickell had the job of buying the horses for the outfit and was to pay an average of $35 a head for pack horses and a little more for the saddle horses if he had to.

There were a lot of horses in the area, and many people were anxious to sell. Horses were brought in from all directions. I was with Bill when he looked several of them over. It was hard to tell what kind of a horse you were getting, for no doubt people wouldn’t be selling their best ones. Bill did a pretty good job of picking them out, and got some cracking good horses. We got stuck with a few duds in our outfit, but also left a few for the outfit that was to follow us.

Some of the boys were put to work in the warehouse filling pack panniers, while Ernie Peterson and I started picking out the pack horses for our outfit and fitting them with pack saddles. We got about 40 head of pretty good horses, then had to start on the young unbroke ones. We put packs on them and turned them loose in the corral, and not too many would buck with their packs. Ernie picked a nice-looking bay gelding that we both thought would make a real good pack horse. He had nice legs and a good saddle back, but after getting the pack saddle on him, getting struck at and kicked, we sure didn’t want him in our outfit. We left him for the outfit that was to follow and heard later that they didn’t want him either.

Bob Godberson. Floyd Crosby photograph; LAC PA171488.

Bob White family collection.

A Cowboy on the Peace River – 1934

I started the spring of 1934 at Jack Ardill’s who lived seven miles up the Peace from the mouth of the Halfway River. Jack and Mrs Ardill and their four children were always very hospitable, and I looked forward to a stay overnight with them in my travels up and down the river. Quite often I would have a few pack horses along, but it would be all the same to them. Jack would just say peel off the rigging and turn your horses loose. That sort of treatment was sure appreciated by a waddy travelling through the country, and I was always glad of a chance to do something for them in return.

Jack was busy putting in some crops, so the boys and I started to round up the cattle. We usually had quite a bit of fun at our branding episodes, but this spring a little more so, as Jack had got hold of a few cows from Freeman Forsythe in trade for feed. These cows were some of the original Bert Erb bunch on Red River [Farrell Creek] and pretty wild. We got them all in the corral except for one wild cow, so after we had finished branding those in the corral Jack suggested we try and get a rope on her. We rode out and got between her and the bush. We traded horses as Jack figured I’d have the better chance. Mine was a young horse who had wintered out, so it wasn’t in the best running shape. Jack’s horse, a bald-faced bay called Bob, was in good condition. We took after the cow and got her headed toward the corral. I managed to get a rope on her and we finally got her down and tied up at the corner of the corral. She had a wicked set of horns, so we felt better when we got her all tied up. We built up the fire and got the irons hot and got the  brand on