Western Canada Wilderness Committee

Raw logs

The Fraser River, near my home in New West is a really cool place, especially as seen from a canoe.

We got the call the night before. There was a big fat ship tied up in the Fraser River at Surrey Docks, across from the New West Quay. She was loading up on raw logs, bound for offshore mills, likely in Asia.

We decided it was time to launch the Wilderness Committee’s raw log webcam. Scott and Tammy and Shane and Gwen and Nik had been tweaking the thing for weeks, making sure it was set up to continuously broadcast images of the log ships loading up logs (and BC mill jobs) to ship offshore. It was time to launch!

The Wilderness Committee wants the BC government to ban raw log shipments because it squanders woodworking jobs and our environment. We figure if we bring enough attention to this issue, government will eventually act to shut it down.

So as Gwen got ready to speak to the media about the “World’s first raw log webcam”. We sent out a news advisory. Then Dennis, JP and I headed for the Fraser River. We tied my canoe down to the top of my pickup. Then we dropped JP off at New West Quay so he could take photos of the ship tied up on the far bank of the river.

Then Dennis and I drove over Pattullo Bridge to the Surrey side then under the bridge where we launched the canoe, packed with banner, ropes and poles. Our job was to string the huge “Stop Raw Log Shipments” banner in front of the ship. The webcam would record the banner and we would also photograph it.

The Fraser is in freshet, which means its filling up with snowmelt and is running pretty good. The tide was way low so the current was chugging along. The river is full of logs and seals. Sometimes its hard to tell which is which.

We pulled up on a rock jetty right in front of the ship, whose name was the Santa Pacifica. We set up our banner and took lots of photos. They were loading logs nonstop.

A big guy in a little boat came over to talk to us. He sort of agreed that raw log shipments cost mill jogs – but he pointed out that he had a job, loading logs onto the ship. He told us to be careful of the rising tide so we didn’t get swamped off our rocky perch.

We were in contact via cell phone with the WCWC office, so we were real happy to hear that Gwen had gotten an interview with CBC TV about our campaign to stop raw log shipments.

When the tide turned, and the river slowed down a bit Dennis and I paddled for home.

Check out the World’s one and only raw log webcam!
http://www.wildernesscommittee.org/campaigns/policy/forestry/raw_logs/raw_log_cam

Ballot Boxing

So I get invited to do a kind of debate thing on CBC. Its called “ballot boxing” – a reference to the up coming provincial election. On the day of the debate I hop in Paul Morgan’s car (WCWC director) and he and I drive over to the Fraser Arms Hotel – the site of CBC’s ballot boxing match. At the desk we are directed to the basement.

All I know is that I am going to be debating about the government’s environmental record with Lytton Mayor Chris O’Connor.

Chris and I go way back In the mid 1980s, Chris was the manager of Lytton Lumber. He still is, only these days he is also Lytton’s mayor.

Back then, Chris was one of the proponents of logging the Stein Valley. I, on the other hand was a vocal opponent of logging the Stein Valley. After ten more years of hard work and a whole lot of protesting, the Stein was saved by the NDP government of the day in 1995 as a provincial park, co-managed by BC Parks and the Lytton Indian Band.

About five years ago WCWC chartered several buses to attend an open house in Lillooet regarding the fate of the South Chilcotin Mountains. When a local logging proponent threatened to punch my lights out, Chris suddenly appeared and stuck a sticker on both of us that said “Hug a Tree Hugger”, then proceeded to hug me. He kind of cooled down the situation and saved my nose from getting flattened.

The next year a bus pulls in front of WCWC’s Gastown offices and out gets Chris O’Connor, followed by a mob of placard waving protesters. He and his crew are there to protest WCWC and our work to protect the South Chilcotin Mountains as a park.

So when I stepped into the gloom of the Fraser Arms Hotel, there was Chris O’Conner, my longtime friend and foe. We had a great time reminiscing about old battles. Then it was time to debate.

In the middle of the basement was an actual boxing ring. The CBC folks directed Chris and I to climb in the ring and soon we began to debate the government’s environment record. Chris thought their record was just great and I thought it stunk.

From salmon farms to endangered species legislation, from the South Chilcotin Mountains Park to offshore oil drilling we yelled, and gestured and jumped up and down. The only thing we agreed on is that local communities should have control of their drinking water catchment areas. Anyone watching would think we were the worst of enemies, which isn’t true.

We just can’t agree on much when it comes to environmental protection issues. And we both have faith in free speech and democracy as the best way to resolve our differences.

After the ballot boxing match Chris and I retired to the bar where we couldn’t even agree what to drink. He had a beer and I had a coffee. Chris paid.

Cutting Deals

Does it get to you when your parents or spouse or sibling or best friend criticizes you?

It gets to me. Know why? Because these are the people who really know you, so when they level criticism it usually comes with a big helping of truth – and the truth can hurt.

It doesn’t mean that they are always right though. You can’t go around letting those close to you run your life. In the end, after listening, you’ve got to make up your own mind and go the way you are going to go.

Which brings me to a recent article by Joel Connelly in the Seattle Times Colonist. You can read his full article on our media site at: http://media.wildernesscommittee.org/news/2005/04/1280.php

Joel rates various environment groups ratings from five trees (very good) to a stump (lousy). Most of the groups he rates are in the U.S Northwest, but he does rate one group north of the border – WCWC.

So far so good, but he only rates WCWC as two crummy trees. Here is what he had to say…

“Western Canada Wilderness Committee: Two trees, others having been chopped down for WCWC's unchanging, newspaper-style broadsides on the latest threatened place in British Columbia.

The once-small committee ballooned to more than 20,000 members during battles over Vancouver Island's Carmanah Valley and Clayoquot Sound.

In tactics, however, it has remained mired in 1960s-style protest. WCWC has never learned how to come in off the picket line and deal.”

Owch, that hurt. Joel really knows his stuff and is the best environment reporter that covers both sides of the 49th. He’s been covering WCWC for years and knows us inside and out.

But on this one Joel is just plain wrong.

In the battle for BC’s remaining wildlands there is a need for dealing and a need for protesting.

A case in point is the recent BC government decision to downsize the South Chilcotin Mountains Park by 20% to appease the mining industry. The government tried to strong arm the environmental groups into going along with their plan saying that if they didn’t “deal” then the government could wipe out the entire park.

A number of groups and activists bought into this. We didn’t.

We continue to work with like minded conservationists and First Nations to defend the protected area and even expand it. By doing so we keep hope alive. And we will succeed too. Just watch us. Check out our campaign page at http://www.wildernesscommittee.org/campaigns/rainforest/interior/chilcotin/

We know that conservation groups are a bit like soccer players. We play our positions. Some are dealers. WCWC is a Hell raiser. We need both kinds of players.

But, Heaven help us if all the enviro groups become dealers, ‘cause we’ll get creamed for sure.

Man, I love my bike.

I’m talking about my bicycle. The one I pedal to work on from my home in Sapperton to our office in Gastown Monday to Friday.

Things just look different from the seat of a bike cruising down the road. You can travel through a community a thousand times in a car or in the bus, but if you haven’t seen it from a bike, I figure you haven’t really seen it.

I guess its true that sometimes riding a bike to work can be a pain in the butt (literally on some days). Like when you get a flat tire, or when it rains, or when you dump your bike. But even when bike riding sucks its still cool.

Just the other day I dumped my bike. It was pretty stupid. I was standing up on my pedals, speeding up to go up a hill, when my chain slipped off a ring, my right foot unclipped, I lost my balance and twisted the handle bars, and did a spectacular “pavement belly flop”.

For a bit I didn’t know what happened. My head had hit the road, but my helmet did its job. My ribs on one side did not feel good. I felt like road kill.

As I looked up at the clouds, flat on my back in the middle of the road, faces began to appear. They formed a circle in the sky. People, a whole bunch of people had stopped whatever they were doing to come over and help. They helped me off the road. Brushed me off. They hung out until they were sure I didn’t need an ambulance. One cyclist even rode along beside me just to make sure I was OK.

My ribs still hurt. But I learned something about my community – it’s a pretty cool place.

Going hiking

So I’m looking forward to going hiking with Devon all week. The plan is to drive around via Pemberton to the East side of Garibaldi Park, then hike up a ridge near Glacier Lake until we get into alpine snow country, then switch to snowshoes and head towards Snowcap Lake. And we get to campout three nights. Yeah!

Devon and I had it all planned out. He brought the topo maps. I put in our route on the GPS. We had our plan. What could go wrong?

Bacon and eggs in Pemberton followed by bumpy logging roads. Then whoa. What’s this? Bridge washed out. Quick check of the map. No problem. We are right below the ridge we want to go up anyway.

We hopped out of the truck like a couple of pups who have been cooped up in the house too long, slung on our packs and began to thrash through the bush up the ridge. After an hour we broke out on a rocky outcrop and took a break. I checked my GPS. Oops. We were five kilometres away from the ridge we were supposed to be on.

Spent the better part of a day crossing a series of clearcuts, then fording a really big creek, then hacking up an old logging road to the base of the ridge we wanted in the first place. Strung a tarp and made camp for the night. I commented to Devon how dry the area looked and that we must be in some sort of rainshadow.

In the middle of the night it began to rain. Then it began to sleet. As our tarp built up a layer of wet sleet and snow, the weight forced it lower and pushed the edges in. When I woke up my paperback about the life and times of Grey Owl that I had been reading the night before was now a sleet covered wet mushy thing.

We bushwhacked up the ridge in the rain, hitting oldgrowth pretty quick. On top of the ridge the rain turned to snow and soon we were in our snowshoes.

Come evening, we dug a pit in the snow. Stomped down sleeping platforms. Strung our tarp and sealed the edges with snow. We were camped in the middle of a snow encrusted ancient yellow cedar grove. It was gently snowing. Everything was perfect. We hit the sack.

About midnight everything warmed up. It began to rain. Now imagine this. You are peacefully asleep. Then about ten pounds of wet snow comes plummeting down from a giant old growth tree and nails your tarp about a foot above your nose – ka wham! All night this goes on until all the snow had dropped.

Our whole trip went like this. A million unexpected happenings. Nothing like we planned – which is what I like!