Mom & Dad

Cry in the Wilderness

 

By Arthur Broomhall

 

 

Late in 1969 the Broomhall family - a mom, dad, four kids, dog, with tent trailer and canoe, reacted to an advertisement in BC Outdoors about Alexis Lake. Always ready for another adventure in wilderness, what the ad promised appealed to all. It offered an image of a serviced campsite (ice available), three other lakes accessible to canoes by portage, good fly fishing, and, no outboard motors allowed! Having experienced, by that time, many summer holidays in the Cariboo, our family had already fallen in love with the remoteness and quiet of BC’s Central Interior. This ad triggered a desire for even more - next season – but in the unfamiliar Chilcotin Country!

 

 

In 1970 the main road west from Williams Lake, Highway 24, was not paved, except for the ‘Sheep Creek Hill’ up from the Fraser River Bridge to the Chilcotin plateau. This part of the road, with its many switchbacks, was on the northeast face of the hill, always thawing out more slowly in the spring than more sun-exposed parts. To correct the inevitable slumping that came with every spring thaw, the Highways Department put in culverts for drainage in the critical places and paved that stretch.

 

Otherwise the road west to Bella Coola was mostly gravel or hard mud. In some places the gravel was like very coarse river bottom, in others, deep ruts added to drivers’ misery. It was hard on ‘regular’ automobiles, especially those pulling trailers. This, we were often told by disparaging locals, was truck country! For us, driving those one hundred miles from Williams Lake was always a challenge, but arrival at serene and beautiful Alexis Lake was the ultimate reward.

 

What we found that first visit was not quite all the advertisement promised. In some respects it was even more. We were expecting wilderness, but the character of it was so much more pristine, unspoilt, with more wildlife than anything we experienced before. Although we were supplied with drinking water, we later found the lake water clean enough to drink. We learned the ad’s statement of ‘no motors’ was not backed up with regulations, but the absence of boat ramps made it virtually impossible for large boats with motors to be launched. And, as far as having ice for our food storage, it was not going to be available in subsequent seasons.

 

One could hear the silence, the animals, and the wind in the trees. The swimming and fishing was good. It was dry belt, and what rain came in summer was in heavy showers, with thunder and lightning. Exploring was always a bit spooky, because the odds were great that we would never encounter anyone else. This also meant that we expected to run into big game – deer and bears. We found the country so wide open, if one wandered off a known, marked trail, it was easy to get lost. Away from camp there were few natural boundaries or landmarks to indicate where ‘home’ might be. And, in that the climate in this high country could change very quickly from the sublime to harsh, it was a bush country to be respected.

 

Happy with that first adventure, it was an easy family decision to return again. Thoughts of doing more than ‘just camping’ came into our family discussions. We searched out a lakeshore property we wanted for our own. In 1971 there were, perhaps, ten properties with cabins on the east shore of the lake. We filed our papers with the government’s Land Branch for a lot we had selected, and were kept on tenterhooks while the approval process wound its way through the bureaucracy. Approval took a long time coming and finally came through late in 1972. The lease required a habitable cabin to be built upon the land within three years. Earlier, in the summer of that year, already confident that the property would be ours, we camped on it, tidied up, and staked out its four corners. By the end of the 1973 summer season, as we departed, our property was fenced to keep out the cattle and, within, was a sealed-up, but unfinished frame cabin.

 

In the twenty-eight years since (I write this in year 2001), as property owners, we have learned much about the land, climate, and vicissitudes of settling in wilderness. Our lake is near the summit of the Alexis Creek watershed. It is at about 3,500 ft. above sea level, enough to offer cool nights after the hottest of summer days. The surrounding land is mainly high plateau, with a few gently rounded peaks that extend upward another thousand feet or so. A few rocky, volcanic outcroppings dot the terrain here and there. In recent times, it has mainly been forested land, covered by scrubby, overcrowded pine trees, white spruces in wet areas, some aspens, and here and some small stands of ancient Douglas firs. Many areas have been opened up for cattle pastures and growing hay. Logging and free-range cattle ranching have been the region’s mainstay for about a century.

 

About 65 years ago, a rancher downstream sought and obtained a water license on Alexis Creek to allow for irrigation and other water use on the lower reaches. Included in the license was provision for a small earth-filled dam and valve at Alexis Lake’s outlet. Once the dam and control were in place the lake effectively became a reservoir for the ranch’s water requirements. If the creek were ever to dry up, the license permitted water to be drawn from the lake.

 

It has been said, apart from some testing, the water control system on the dam was never used. Apparently, the normal summer flow of water down the creek was always sufficient for the needs of the ranch. It is possible the existence of the dam evened out seasonal water fluctu-ations. In high water seasons, lake water rises between two to three feet higher than pre-dam levels. This has been enough to kill off many spruce trees in low spots. And, over the years the beaver population has always caused the lake levels to fluctuate even more. Their dam building activity at the lake outlet continues to be a nuisance.

 

In 1986, the water license was abandoned. Despite that license, people seeking waterfront property upstream before and after 1986 were granted (indeed, encouraged to obtain) leases (and in a few cases obtained land in fee simple) by government – all subject to that license. So when the water license ended, riparian rights in a sense transferred from the ranch, downstream, to upstream and lakeshore property holders. The latter, we, in effect, became the water’s stakeholders.

 

A wake-up call faced Alexis Lake property owners when liabilities for the dam structure and valve no longer were the responsibility of the ranch. The abandonment of the license conferred those liabilities somewhere, but where? Faced with repairing a deteriorating dam mainly because of the road access it provided to the east lakeshore properties, the government’s Highways Department suggested the dam be removed and be replaced by a bridge. It would, they said, be less costly than having to replace the old dam with a new one built to standards required by the Environment Department.

 

Faced with the uncertainties of cost, and how a reduced water level might affect the shoreline or, for that matter, property values, many, perhaps most, owners objected strenuously to the removal of the dam. Also having to face this conundrum, government eventually settled upon having the Highways Dept. patch up the old dam and punch through a culvert. We were assured this would preserve existing water levels. Surprisingly, this arrangement has worked – but it still leaves us wondering about the future!

 

By the mid 80’s, logging companies were well into clear-cutting the Chilcotin. In 1970 it did not occur to us that it was only a matter of time before their operations would catch up to the plateau 70 miles west of the Fraser River. The impact of the hundreds of loaded logging trucks we encountered on our drives in and out did not register upon us for quite a while. For the kids counting trucks became a game. But, ominously, the effects of the logging became visible. We were not mistaken any longer – large swaths of denuded hills were appearing everywhere.

 

Off the main road our climb up to the plateau was at first through thick forest, mostly Douglas Firs in the lower elevations, but further up this changed to pine forest. There were large grassy openings here and there - well populated by free ranging cattle. Around Alexis Lake most of the forest was of poor quality. Either very dense, the native pines were so crowded they stretched tall and thin, reaching for available light, or they were undernourished from poor soil – possibly both. Most took fifty years or more to grow less than 25 feet. To our less than practised eye, they were good for little more than fence rails and posts.

 

During the time we were busy with building and finishing off our cabin, we took breaks to explore the territory around us. By hiking and driving around we saw the construction of a major logging road not half a mile from the north end of the lake, (now called the ‘4600’) and from it saw the approach of clear-cut logging. We watched, each year, as more and more of the once endless, far-as-the-eye-could-see forest was decimated.

 

From talking to Ministry of Forests people, we learned of loggers’ plans for our immediate area – round-the-clock, highly automated cutting, bundling, and removal of trees – with cleanup (slash burning) in the fall when the forest fire season had passed. We received assurances private property would not be trespassed, and a fringe of trees would be left standing around the shores of the lake. We were not told about the 24 hour-a-day noise.

 

The forestry department staff made a point of telling us about the natural disasters, too, and their role in cleaning up after them. They pointed out the forest on the east side of Alexis Lake had been badly scorched in a forest fire in the early 40’s. At that time many older, large trees survived, but most living trees are scarred at ground level. Much of the remaining area was left open with little undergrowth – good for nothing but cottage development, they said.

 

They told of pine beetle scourges that infected the Chilcotin. Little is known about such infestations, why they arise or how they are best controlled. In some areas older trees were attacked while younger ones somehow remain unaffected, in other areas it was the opposite. A year or two after pine beetle grubs get into tree bark, the trees die and become a fire hazard. In nature, wildfires eventually take care of this. From the fertile ashes of an old forest, a healthier generation of trees grows.

 

In the Chilcotin, however, where, like everywhere else, the human population is growing slowly but inexorably, vast areas of dead forest have become a menace for ranches and people with cottages. It is a country where summer lightning starts forest fires. It has been decreed (by environment and forestry departments of government) that it is better to be rid of pine beetle damaged trees than it is to allow them simply to fall and rot or be incinerated. And, in that bug diseased trees, if recovered for processing within a year or two of dying, have commercial value, cutting licenses required ‘conditions’. Loggers found themselves bound to take out bad wood with the good. This imposition gave the lumber industry another argument in favor of using the ‘most modern’ clear-cutting logging techniques.

 

Today, the old forests in the Alexis Creek district have largely disappeared; little remains of what we encountered when we first arrived. In addition to the many stands of trees that became diseased, other natural events contributed to the forest decline. It has been said that as forest cover disappears, damage from thunderstorms and wind is more severe. Simply put, vast cleared-off areas leave built-up properties and unprotected stands of trees on the periphery of these cleared-off areas much more vulnerable to the elements.

 

As if to add insult to our injury, in the early 90’s, one particularly bad summer storm, a tornado, devastated a two to three mile strip of forest, perhaps 300 acres, along the crest of land paralleling the west shore of the lake. This precipitated a need for a further cleanup, and the logging crew that eventually arrived removed many more trees than just the blow-downs.

 

If there has been an upside from all this, it is the improvement to the roads in and out of the territory. The main highway is now paved, and the roads into the bush have been upgraded to standards that are safe for logging activity – which, in turn, has been good for our access. Tree removal and road straightening, more gravel, ditches, culverts, and better drying out, have made it easier to get about on these bush roads.

 

A true account of that access, however, would never be complete without mention of what one sees when driving through. For many years, now, the countryside has been an eyesore, looking more like a moonscape. Replanting has slowly changed that; the hills are greening up. But, like before, once done, there has been a noticeable absence of follow-through. Replanted trees now need thinning. Without this, the forest will revert into another in ‘decadent’ state and become susceptible again to insect infestations.

 

At the higher elevations of the Alexis Creek drainage, on the plateau, the land is relatively flat. Besides many lakes, there are hundreds of large and small bogs, creating wetlands with their own distinctive environments. The disappearance of the forests, generally, is causing much of this to dry out. Stands of trees adjacent to these wetlands, now more accessible, have been among the last to be opened up for timber removal. These are not large, profitable cut-blocks, and we wonder why this timber must be removed.

 

After witnessing (with varying degrees of consternation or horror) the highly automated round-the-clock forest cutting we could not fail to notice harmful environmental effects. A tree supporting many great blue heron nests (near Lake Two) simply disappeared, as did the blue herons. After rainstorms the lakes soon became silt-ridden (brown). Nearby clear-cuts, the follow-up slash burning, and even the building of the logging road, caused further soil erosion.

 

In that virtually no mature forest remains, the existing wetlands around us are bound to suffer from dry seasons. When I say ‘suffer’, I mean the chains of animal and plant life will be adversely affected. In turn, the aquifer, underground water, like everywhere else in the world suffering from clear-cut logging, will sink lower – and we, humans, will face difficulties like never before. Despite recent high water levels in the lake, some neighbors reported their wells drying up. Thus, there is no doubt what patches of forest that have been left standing must remain.

 

The collective “we” of property owners and campers at Alexis Lake, by receiving much deep joy and pleasure from the area’s unique serenity, have taken up the cause of preserving it from further adversity. But we cannot ignore the array of forces that simply don’t regard the fragility of an environment an issue that demands such commitment. Unfortunately, the ENVIRONMENT has no single advocate, and our government will never be a champion of it. The government sees land - and what’s in, on, or under it, as something it has a duty to exploit – to extract revenue from. It actually encourages business to bid for the use of land, and sees its role as one of sorting out competing interests over it, where they occur.

 

The Alexis Lake community already has established a somewhat substantial economy, given the private investment in property and improvements – and despite its remoteness. This economy benefits not only from the assessed values of the properties, or from cottagers’ continuing need for goods and services, but also from itinerant campers and other tourists who come up to enjoy the many remote forestry campsites. But despite the tax revenues, and infusion of outside money, many ‘locals’, who live year-round nearby, dismiss our claims that the region benefits more from our presence than if we had not settled there.

 

Throughout Canada loons have become a wilderness bellwether. If we hear the sound of loons at Alexis, we know all is well. If Ontarians hear them - the same may not be true. The press of human population upon ‘lake country’ in Ontario is so great that many families of loons have been driven away. Whether it is motorboats constantly disturbing their nesting sites, absence of feed, lowering water levels, or mercury pollution, or a combination of all these things, something is destroying that environment.

 

The notion of closing Alexis Lake to internal combustion motorboats was not a new one when it arose years ago. When our family saw the ad in 1969 (although having no ‘official’ validity) we knew someone cared, and also that it was consistent with the growing movement in BC for closing lakes to boats having outboard motors. The impetus was always one of having to protect pristine environments from noise, fouled water, and the disturbance of wildlife. And it was a foregone conclusion that without motorboats lakes were safer for swimmers.

 

At first, in the mid 70’s closing ‘our’ lake to motorboats became an obsession with a few, but as the issue was discussed among neighbors, it received growing support. A campaign developed. Many had a part to play. What was interesting was the ‘opposition’; it appeared unexpectedly from among the ranks of government officials. They declared they had a duty to balance our interests with those in opposition. Before they could do this, they said, they wanted evidence to substantiate our claims that loons were disturbed by the wakes of motorboats and would be driven away.

 

It did not matter how hard we argued that anyone knowing something about loons’ would know that their nests, right at water level, were little more than rafts of moss and lakeshore debris. This made them vulnerable to destruction by wave action. Common sense, we argued, had to prevail, and some environmental principles had to be developed for all ‘small lakes’ before the loons here and elsewhere were gone. First, we offered, motorboats should simply not be allowed on lakes with less than (say) 10 miles of shoreline, or (say) 1000 acres of surface water. Second, all such lakes, indeed watersheds, needed mandated ‘green spaces’ (no logging) for at least 500 meters back from watercourses – the riverbanks or lakeshores.

Officialdom didn’t take kindly to being lectured about principles. They wanted to make judgments without having them questioned. They had little else of consequence to offer - other than a desire to get on with their work - principles notwithstanding. Such officials often make the mistake of assuming that people in dispute over environment issues will be satisfied with compromises, or by becoming subject to regulation, rather than by a ‘correct’ decision that will leave people divided.

 

So, we wonder just how any official, put in a position of having to discuss, promote, or negotiate alternatives, can ever really serve as an unbiased advocate for the environment. We have yet to meet people working for government, even those in ‘Environment’, who, despite evidence of pollution, are really free to declare: ‘motorboats, operating in small BC lakes, are instruments of environmental destruction and will, henceforward, be banned’.

 

Fortunately our group of property owners, brandishing a strong consensus, were successful with their own efforts in closing the lake to internal combustion outboard motors. Their lengthy letter writing and lobbying efforts paid off. Government, at the receiving end of this constant harangue, eventually changed its focus. An official somewhere summoned up the courage to declare the case for motorboats was less compelling than the case against them.

 

We became empowered! That achievement made many of us wonder what more we could do. Today we maintain a careful watch over events that could be harmful to our interests. Just as there should be no procrastination over obvious carelessness, such as a discovery of a cow’s carcass floating in the lake, or of dead animals abandoned in the trap line (incidents which we learned about in the late 70’s), we must communicate quickly with one another about matters that arise which may be cause for concern - like the recent proposal for an airstrip adjacent to our lake.

 

Privately some of us harbor lofty expectations. We wish for the return of blue herons after their disappearance. (We saw just one last summer – after many years of wondering if they would ever return!). We yearn for more visits from the rare pelicans, hoping that they might acquire the confidence to nest in our waters. We wish to experience again the diving ‘swoosh’ of the peregrine falcon as it preys on small ducks – not for the duck’s sake, but for the balance in nature this represents. And year after year, despite the terrible depredations in the ospreys’ winter habitat in Central America, we celebrate their return to nest in a favoured refuge nearby.

 

As I write, the incumbent provincial government is facing an election. It is hard not to be cynical about the sudden priority it has given to improving its own ‘green’ image. It is clear Greenpeace (and other agencies) have succeeded in embarrassing it - and the lumber industry – for their lack of action over what have been broadcast about as unacceptable logging practices.

 

Politicians have awakened to the fact (probably too late for re-election in year 2001) that they must win more votes. They declared a three-year moratorium on hunting grizzly bears, and agreed in principle with Greenpeace’s proposal for protecting a large part of the Central Coast from clear-cut logging. Within the latter decision, stands of 1,000-year-old coastal rain forest trees, and the rare white Kermode (‘Spirit’) bears that live among them, will be spared forever. About the moratorium, feelings run high among the supporters of hunting. Maybe this will cost votes.

 

Speaking of politicians, laws and bears, odds are stacked against recreational property owners’ interests when their environment is threatened - for laws have been enacted by governments in such a hodgepodge fashion. One would think and hope the ‘senior government’s’ interest, as expressed by the federal Canadian Environment Assessment Act, would have enough status to attract legal testing in Canada, and to provide real environmental guidelines. There is a similar statute in the United States – which receives constant testing. In a recent enactment case concerning powered boats (April 2000), the US National Parks Service brought into effect ‘new restrictions that ban the use of Jet Skis in 66 parks, including Olympic National Park’. Although a limited step, it was challenged, but, on appeal, found within the National Parks’ mandate.

 

We learn from the stated purposes of the Canadian Act (which includes ‘opportunity for public participation in the environmental assessment process’) that most ‘participation’ winds up at the discretion of provincial or local authority, and is hardly ever exercised.

 

In the example of a recent application by a business for an airstrip, at Alexis Lake, (to which many of us objected) it was necessary for the applicant to have the Federal Department of Transport notified about the particulars. Fed-Transport’s main interest in such matters lies in public safety. So any concerns about environmental damage were transferred to BC authorities to review. Ultimately, they were dismissed as minimal. The latter’s focus, in this case, was (or remains) on the economics of land use and development.

 

Mixed government jurisdictions have caused no end of problems. Closing Alexis Lake to motorboats took twenty years to accomplish. Strident arguments from the opposition at first concerned ‘peoples’ rights’ - like with tobacco products, outboard motors, they had never been deemed illegal and were for sale everywhere. The argument went: as there were no restrictions on the purchase of motors, customers ought to be free to use them, with no restrictions. It was an argument compelling enough to bring the proceedings to a halt, not once but several times.

 

Provincial and federal authorities were wary about having this argument tested. However, as precedents (from settlements in other lake-closing cases) were finally factored in, especially where lakes served as drinking water reservoirs, pollution based concerns at last received some official recognition as a valid reason for closing lakes to motors.

 

Now, to the mention of bears... Most of us at the lake have no desire to encounter bears during walk-abouts. The Johnsons, during the years they lived full-time at Alexis Lake, had many encounters, and even disposed of one or two troublesome bears. I don’t know if we should be thankful Alexis Lake bears are ‘just’ black bears. Their numbers are increasing and we see their sign everywhere. It is likely what attracts them is the smell of food, so as the human presence in the wilderness increases, it is doubly important to dispose of waste properly, and to clean our barbecues! And, large dogs are useful to have around for insurance!

 

They say grizzly bears don’t live with us anymore. In the late ‘70’s when logging began in earnest, an elderly rancher, Paxton, whose entire life was spent in the Alexis Creek region, declared that with the arrival of ‘big’ logging there would be no more grizzlies. He talked about the last one killed in the territory, near his home at Spain Lake, in the late 60’s. It was a monster bear which, following the hunt, received recognition as a trophy animal. Despite Paxton’ prophecy, 30 years or so later, in the fall of 2000, horseback riding tourists in the Nazko high country – not far from us – reported a pair of grizzlies gambolling about in a meadow. So, maybe, they will appear close by again. How this will be received remains to be seen!

 

 

THE END

4350 words

 

Done