Cross Canada Escape #2 - The Land of Mountains and Oceans

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It is hard to believe how fast the summer months have flown by as I sit writing this entry from the Yukon, well into what I consider the third leg of this journey. Since the last post, Lance and I have travelled a couple thousand more kilometers, which has taken us through some of the most awe-inspiring landscape that Western Canada has to offer.

The first landscape in a series of many were the jaw dropping Rocky Mountains, a beautiful sight to anyone, but made all the more powerful in that I was able to experience the joy of seeing them again for the first time through Lance and his experience. As we drove into the foothills outside Banff, there were countless photo ops and a stunned excitement in the car. We spent our first night on a campground outside Banff and hit the Icefield’s Parkway the next day to take it all in. While much of this area caters to massive hoards of tourists, the undeniable natural beauty of this area made for a wonderful drive. It was so enjoyable to have the freedom of the vehicle, which allowed us to stop on a whim for a quick mountainside scramble, countless bathroom breaks, or capturing it all in a photo. By the end of the day we had reached the point of landscape oversaturation however, and were more then happy to settle into a campsite outside of Jasper, which offered a stunning view of the sun setting behind the mountains, a fast moving river, and a campfire.

The next day saw us make contact with “Beautiful British Columbia” (as the provincial welcome sign claimed). Beautiful indeed! Over the course of the next two days, we traversed almost 1000km west along the Yellowhead Highway (Hwy 16) until at long last we reached the Pacific Ocean, via Prince Rupert. This was another first for Lance and it was exciting to get to experience the smell of salt water, the taste of fresh seafood, and the enjoyment of beachcombing with him. For the majority of this ocean side exploration, we spent our time on the island nation of Haida Gwaii, formerly known as the Queen Charlotte Islands.

In order to get to Haida Gwaii, we boarded a ferry in Prince Rupert for the seven hour journey across the Hecate Straight, a very broad expanse of open ocean. We landed in the town of Skidegate and made some last minute accommodation arrangements, which landed us in a wonderful B&B outside of Tlell called Serenity Now! B&B. Thanks to our host’s wonderful hospitality and knowledge of the area, they put us on the right track for things to see and do on the island. At this point in the trip, the island of less than 5,000 people became the place we spent the longest consecutive time than we had anywhere else in the first two weeks of the trip. And with good reason! The islands proved to be not only rich in natural history, with its temperate rainforests and unique wildlife, but the people were warm and welcoming, which made our time there memorable.

After a wonderful night in Tlell, we headed north towards the beaches of Tow Hill. On our way there, we took a short, but beautiful hike through an old growth forest near the middle of the main island to check out the spot in which the Golden Spruce once stood. A tree of great importance to the local residents, both native and non-native, the Golden Spruce was a tree with a genetic mutation that allowed its needles to grow into a beautiful golden colour. The tree was over 300 years old, and had played a significant role in local culture and myth, when it was cut down in a misguided attempt at environmental protest in the late 1990s. Today, this hike takes you through a beautiful stretch of old growth temperate rainforest, bursting with natural wonders and beauty to an opening on the Yakoun River where you can view the remains of the Golden Spruce on its western shore.

After taking in the beauty of the area, our goal became to find a rustic cabin to rent for the night. Despite not having a reservation and facing no vacancies at every turn, we lucked into a magical cabin a two minute walk from the beach with the bare essentials – wood stove, running water, and electricity (bathroom outside!). A simple one room cabin, there was a bed in one corner, a woodstove and a couch in another, and a cozy cooking area lining one wall. We took advantage of our proximity to the beach and did a hike up Tow Hill, providing a stunning view of the north beach of Haida Gwaii. That evening, we took a long stroll on the beach, beachcombing for rocks and shells, watching eagles fly overhead, and enjoying the exploration of a new landscape before settling in before the woodstove.

After having spent a wonderful night wrapped in the warmth of the cabin, we had to move on. The day began, dreary and cold, with the rain a constant companion to the damp chill in our bones. With no real plans, we set out to explore the Haida community of Old Massett. As a teacher in an Ojibway community in Northern Ontario, and my partner a member of that band himself, we had been interested throughout this journey in learning more about the lives of First Nations people across Canada. As we drove through the streets of Old Massett we were reminded of reserve life in Fort Hope. The houses looked much the same, the town set up in the same grid like system, complete with the informal laid-back nature that marks an easygoing pace. The differences though were also present, such as the dramatic backdrop of Massett Inlet and the Pacific Ocean as a view, the towering totem poles marking Haida culture and history, and the fact that you could actually drive in to the community!

Our first stop that rainy day was to a local café for a cup of coffee and some reconnaissance as to what to do in the community. The response by the owner of the café was as one might expect; relaxed and general, giving a nod to the artists in town and the possibility of checking out fishing or a plane tour by heading to the harbor. Upon further discussion, it was noted that we weren’t speaking to just any community member – this was the chief! Unsuspecting as he was, moonlighting as the owner of the only café in town, it served to remind us that yes, we were in slightly familiar territory.

Chuckling, we moved on to a local art and jewelry shop, where we spent the better part of an hour chatting with two Haida women who worked there. Their easy chatter and laughter made us feel at ease as we talked about our trip and where we were coming from. We exchanged stories of teaching (as one women was a teacher in the community as well) and words in Haida and Ojibway before leaving the shop with a warm feeling of welcoming.

The rain continued, but did not dampen our spirits. We decided to stop in at a local carver’s home, which displayed a sign out front letting us know that that an argillite carver was at work and we were welcome to come watch. Upon walking up to the door, we were welcomed into the home of a warm and generous man by the name of Myles Edgar whose company, talents, and stories we were privy to for the next hour. Among the highlights of this experience was the artists’ voracious and outgoing grandson, who was not at all shy in our presence and quickly took to regaling us with stories of his machin (grandfather) and his own fishing escapades. When asked the size of the biggest fish he had ever caught, he replied casually “40 lbs” to which our mouths dropped open! He then snuck out of the room and returned a few moments later with a vacuum-sealed bag of sockeye salmon fillets and handed them to me. “You can have these,” he said. “I caught them with my machin!” Astounded by this child’s generosity and the sparkling nod of approval that his grandfather heralded in my direction, I accepted the fish with gratitude.

A few moments later, as we peered at the beginnings of an argillite totem that Myles was making, Lance spotted a giant eagle, who upon attempting to protect his salmon dinner from the other birds, had flown into a power line and been electrocuted. As the eagle drifted to the ground, Lance pointed this out to Myles, who chuckled and picked up the phone. “My brother will be happy,” he told us. “He’s been wanting to find an eagle to stuff for ages! Last time he saw one get fried, some kids beat him to it!”. As we watched from Myles’ window, his brother strolled out of the house two doors down, picked up the massive eagle by the feet and brought it to his porch. Sure enough, a moment late three teenagers walked up the site, eager to claim the eagle as their own! Curious as to what was going on, Myles’ grandson ran over to the porch to check out the action. He promptly return to report that “the eagle is dead and its eyes got blasted out of its head!”. Unable to resist seeing this phenomenon, we found ourselves two doors down, checking out the bird and talking with Myles’ brother, who turned out to be a hereditary chief of the area. Over the course of these few interactions we were invited to a great many interesting things like fishing and a potlatch, happening the next week, to which we had to turn down with dismay.

As we drove out of the community that evening, I was filled with such a warm sense of welcoming and intimacy with a place and people that we had just met. It was the informal, casual way in which people were open to speaking and listening to us that left me with an imprint in my heart from this afternoon. The rest of our time on the island was short, but sweet, as we finished it off with a 10km beachside hike to see the remains of a 1928 shipwreck outside Tlell. As the afternoon came to a close and we waited for our overnight ferry back to Prince Rupert, we stopped in at the Haida Heritage Center in Skidegate. As I walked through the various exhibits portraying the history of the Haida people, from before contact through the Silent Years of cultural repression and loss up to the present day of environmental preservation, land claims, and self-government, I found myself in a state of astounded excitement. A representation of Aboriginal history and culture as I had never seen it before existed in a forum designed to inform and educate the wider public. With my limited knowledge of the history of Aboriginal people in Western Canada, it was eye opening to see the obstacles that the Haida have overcome to get to this place of cultural, linguistic, and political revival. It was beautiful and inspiring, and as it turned out, the first of many more experiences as the journey continued.

Over the next three days, Lance and I made our way back from the coast up the Stewart-Cassiar highway, which links Northern British Columbia to the Yukon Territory. While the rain and dreary cold of the coast seemed to cling to us like a wet blanket, the landscape remained breathtaking with mountains on all sides and the environment slowly blending the boreal with the alpine. As we pressed northward, a sense of endless wilderness and open spaces grew stronger. With the spotting of six bears and a wolf (on the highway alone!) over the course of the next two days, the territorial slogan of the Yukon, “Larger Than Life” seemed more and more real.

Jumping ahead to the next leg of the trip for a moment, I wanted to make mention of the further knowledge I gained regarding Aboriginal people in the North, or the Yukon more specifically. Over the next week as I travelled across the Yukon, I learned that the Territory is home to fourteen different First Nations groups. I also learned that having begun a large-scale land claim agreement with the government of Canada in the 1970s, many First Nations groups have seen their individual land claims come to fruition. These claims involved a number of things including land rights and self-governance, but also the important role of reviving history, culture, and language learning within their people and to the wider population. As such, the majority of these First Nations groups have created cultural centers dedicated to the promotion of their people’s history as well as present day successes and challenges. Once again, I found it inspiring to witness. The presence of these centers in Western and Northern Canada demonstrates what I believe to be a sign of change for the future, both for First Nations people and the broader Canadian narrative. The history of how this country has treated its Aboriginal people is appalling, but most appalling of all is how little of this history is spoken of to the next generation, both the native and non-native youth. The opening up of public spaces for First Nations to share their history and reaffirm their culture shows that perhaps this country is ready to take a real step forward towards reconciliation.

Stepping back from these learning’s, I will wrap up this entry here, as it is an appropriate junction into the third and final leg of this cross-country journey. Soon after arriving in the Yukon, my co-pilot switched once again. We met up with my Dad in Whitehorse, and after a day of sightseeing in the area, made all the richer by my Dad’s memories and stories of the area from thirty five years ago, I said goodbye to wonderful co-pilot number two and set off with my Dad for what promises to be an educational and thought-provoking final leg.

Sending love from the North,
Courtney

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