In the vast tapestry of pioneer history in British Columbia, certain stories stand out not merely for their historical value but for the mysteries they cloak. One such tale emerges from the memoirs of Susan Moir Allison, a Scottish immigrant and early settler of the Similkameen Valley. Her account offers a curious episode that intertwines the challenges of frontier life with an inexplicable anomaly involving time itself.

Susan Moir Allison arrived in British Columbia in 1860, at the tender age of fifteen, drawn by the era’s gold rush fever. Her step-father originally sought fortune not through mining but cattle ranching, intending to supply beef to gold prospectors around the Fraser Canyon. However, his eventual disappearance due to personal troubles left young Susan to carve out her own path. By 1868, she married John Fall Allison, an experienced gold rush veteran and ranch owner near what is now Princeton, BC. Together, they embraced the rugged, free-spirited pioneer lifestyle, living remotely and engaging closely with local Indigenous communities and other settlers.

Their life was far from tranquil. Beyond the daily hardships of ranching in a wild landscape, they encountered dangers ranging from outlaw gangs to tense diplomatic moments involving indigenous bands and the U.S. Army. Yet, amid these adventures, one event in 1877 would mark their history with an air of unresolved mystery.

John Allison, in the course of his routine cattle drives to New Westminster, often traveled a route blazed by himself that likely included segments of Dewdney Trail, a critical wagon path connecting various frontier settlements. On this particular trip, under intense heat, John took his usual path but failed to arrive on time. When he did return, delayed by over a day, his demeanor was pale and disoriented. His initial question to Susan was startling — he inquired about the date. John recounted that after leaving the Similkameen and traversing small lakes and forested areas, he experienced a sudden blank. He lost memory for "thirty hours or more," awakening only when his horse nudged him.

Adding to the intrigue was the state of John’s pocket watch. Susan noted that the watch had simply stopped, without any visible damage, as if it had ceased functioning in sync with John’s lost time. The cause of his mysterious incapacitation was unclear — possibilities ranged from a fall from his horse to heatstroke — but neither explanation adequately accounted for his memory loss or the stopped watch.

This curious pairing of human amnesia and unexplained mechanical failure resonates beyond mere accident. It evokes folklore and myths ingrained in local and wider cultures: from Anglo-Celtic fairy tales of enchanted time lapses to the Kushtaka legends of the Tlingit people, known for beings capable of manipulating human perceptions. In modern contexts, it aligns with narratives surrounding sudden disappearances in wilderness areas, as well as accounts of alien abduction phenomena, where time anomalies commonly feature.

Though skeptics may lean toward natural causes—heat exhaustion, head trauma, mechanical malfunction—there remains an uncanny element to John Allison’s experience. The exact interplay between his lost hours and the watch’s cessation remains unresolved; a small but fascinating snapshot of frontier life, where nature, myth, and mystery often intertwine.

The story of John Allison invites reflection on how time is both a constant and a mystery in human experience — especially in the wilderness, where the boundaries between reality and legend blur. What truly happened to those lost thirty hours on the Dewdney Trail? Was it a natural mishap, or something more enigmatic?

Your thoughts and interpretations are welcome—does this story suggest a glimpse into the unknown realms of time, or can science and history offer a complete explanation? The Dewdney Trail episode remains an enigmatic chapter, inviting us all to consider the mysteries lurking just beneath the surface of pioneer tales.