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Feature Part 2- Riding the rails to 100 Mile House

A father-son adventure on the Cariboo Prospector

There’s something exciting about flagging down a roaring diesel train by placing a small green and white flag into a six by six wooden post. Thousands of tons of steel come screeching, belching and grinding to a stop, air brakes snorting like some huge beast of burden when it finally rests in front of you. The train man, hanging from a hand rail, drops to the ground and places an aluminum step on the gravel in front of your feet. The experience is even more exciting when the flag stop is only 30 feet from your house.

This is how my son Jonathan and I began our adventure from Alta Lake to 100 Mile House this summer. With the Cariboo Prospector slated to grind to a final halt at the end of October, it was our last chance to venture by rail into the vast north of our province.

Our backpacks loaded with camping gear, we wave goodbye to the rest of the family and step up into the moving world of the rail car. With my minidisc recorder running, I try to capture the end of an era: the hisses and whistles of the train, the banter of the tourists, the conductor’s announcements; I have my camera ready for the scenery, my notepad at my side. Jonathan, however, is the ultimate journalist. He absorbs everything through his senses and, without the aid of technology, commits it deeply to memory. When you’re eight years old that’s simply what you do, even without a commission to write an article.

The train is nearly full and we have to sit separately for the first stretch. I’m amazed that BC Rail would even consider shutting down this service after 90 years of running it through various sections between North Vancouver and Prince George, and 50 years of maintaining the entire line. This was the train that first opened up Alta Lake to tourists for trout fishing. It does the same now for numerous resorts in the Cariboo and northern Interior. In many ways it’s the lifeline of the province that connects the north and central Interior to the coast.

But politics can wait until later. Right now it’s the experience of riding the rails that takes over. There’s something unique about a train trip – a feeling of community perhaps because the cars are all linked together. And there’s a sense of pre-destiny – the tracks have already been laid, the course is set. The journey is everything in this Zen mode of travel – more important than the destination. We have no idea what awaits us at 100 Mile House, but for six hours we know we’ll be riding between the rails with all these other folks.

The woman beside me, Deanna Franco, is from Santa Clara, California. Her husband sits on the other side of the train so they can both have a window seat.

"We heard it was closing down," she tells me, "thought we’d go for one last historic ride."

We share travel stories and admire the scenery. She passes the cookies from her lunch on to Jonathan.

"They’re doing an impressive job narrating the trip," Deanna says as the announcer alerts us to watch for Nairn Falls. Everybody oohs and ahs as we cram ourselves up against the windows on the right side of the car.

The announcer continues to enlighten us with bits of information and sights to watch for:

"D’arcy is where the old steam trains used to refuel and re-water."

"Look for the small herd of buffalo on your left."

"Seton Portage is the site of western Canada’s first railroad."

It occurs to me how different this trip is from our drive to southern California earlier in the summer. Riding the rails there’s no corridor of pavement between you and the scenery. The train sneaks through the countryside, a stealthy capsule with windows on both sides.

"It’s such a shame that they’re shutting it down," Demaris Tisdale of Burlington, Vermont tells me from a few seats ahead in our car. She’s on a round trip that connects with another train from Prince George to Jasper and then back to Vancouver.

"In so many ways it’s backwards, in terms of transporting people. This is very environmentally sound. We pave so many roads in North America, everything’s about the car."

The woman beside her, Sophie Lowe, is from Grand Forks and is travelling with her grandson to Prince George.

"This is a treat for him," she says, "once in a lifetime."

At $247 one way for herself and $148 for her grandson, the Cariboo Prospector is already too expensive for family travel, Sophie says. Once the Prospector shuts down, the sole passenger train operating on this line (summer months only) will be the Whistler Northwind, stopping only in Whistler, 100 Mile House and Prince George. At $1,100-$1,450 a pop, it is not only unaffordable for families, but for the majority of the population.

Enjoying our train trip while we have the chance, Jonathan and I sneak up between the cars to record the train sounds and talk. The thrum and clang of the cars accompanies our conversation, the train whistle floats across Seton Lake.

"We’re going pretty fast – I never noticed that when we were in there," Jonathan remarks. "It must be fun when the train stops, remember that guy got to hang out?"

"Yeah. What do you like the best so far?" I ask him.

"I like looking out the window. And I liked the lunch." He smiles and points at the disc recorder. "Is that thing on?"

As the train climbs up the steep side of the Fraser Canyon north of Lillooet, Jonathan and I manage to wrangle our own seat. I tell him how I used to take the train from Amsterdam to Leverkusen in Germany, where my grandmother lived. Those trains went over a hundred miles an hour and departed on schedule, right to the second. That European train culture made a deep impression on me. And I realize now that we have our own train culture here in B.C. It’s much more relaxed. The trains wend their way through the mountains, even stopping for an unusual sighting if they’re able. The servers aren’t afraid to be themselves, to let a passenger know if they’re being too demanding. For a tourist, this is pure Western Canadian culture. The real thing.

We depart the train at Exeter 100 Mile House and discover that the station is three kilometres from town. Walking along the side of the road with our packs, we’re back in the world of the automobile – hot black pavement and cars whipping past. At the info centre in 100 Mile House, I manage to set up both an interview and a place to pitch our tent at the Hills Health Ranch. The ranch is at 108 Mile and soon we’re back on the road. We buy a bag of cherries from a roadside vendor and walk along the hot Cariboo tarmac spitting cherry pits off the side. It’s nice to be travelling with my son, to show him what I’ve done much of over the years – introduce him to travelling with a backpack, living by your wits. At the edge of town we hitch a ride up Highway 97, then walk in across the old Cariboo Gold Rush trail to the ranch.

In the lobby of the Hills Health Ranch I talk with president Pat Corbett while a honky-tonk piano player entertains guests in the lounge next door. Here in the heart of the Cariboo, I discover just how formidable a force the government and BC Rail will be up against in their bid to shut down the passenger rail service.

"It’s a very backward decision to let this thing go, in our view," Corbett tells me. "The amount of money they’re losing is in the range of $4 million to $5 million a year – that’s all it is. When you compare that to the hundreds of millions of dollars being pumped into the Lower Mainland and the ferry system. For us not to be worth $4 million to $5 million is a kick in the face."

Corbett is part of an initiative to save the train which includes municipalities, mayors and business people from Vancouver up to Dawson Creek. At a meeting in 100 Mile House in April they hammered out a nine point proposal for government, calling for a moratorium on shutting down the train until a broad transportation plan is in place for the province.

"It should not be shut down until there is a proper plan that gives confidence on how we’re going to move people into the Interior," Corbett says. "The Premier has a political choice to make because politics are such that the people of the south, central, and northern Interior will never forget if he allows this to happen."

The Liberals already lost one election in 1996 by hinting they would sell BC Rail, Corbett says, adding that in the last election they promised not to sell it.

The group’s concern goes beyond the passenger service to the movement of freight as well.

"There’s a serious mismanagement of the freight," Corbett says. "There are no cars, so the lumber companies are starting to use trucks."

In terms of wear on the highway, he says one truck is equal to approximately 500 cars and there are now 250 more trucks a week than just six months ago. Corbett and the other stakeholders along the line will meet again in early September.

Heading home

After a busy morning of hiking, swimming and a course in horse whispering, Jonathan and I are ready to kick back on the train ride home. We’re surrounded by British tourists oohing and ahing at the sights. The same BC Rail staff are on the train from the day before and many of them are extremely frank in their opinions on the proposed shut down. Cheryl Pilkington, the co-ordinator and announcer on the trip tells me: "It hits all the small towns along the way. We bring hundreds of people to different ranches and resorts all year. This trip links to Prince Rupert, Prince George and Jasper."

And in terms of people living along the line who use the train as their sole means of transportation, Pilkington says it will be devastating.

"A lot of older people rely on the train, people who can’t drive. I think the town of Lillooet will be hit the hardest because there’s no Greyhound."

The conductor on the trip, Richard Gerard, compares the fate of the Cariboo Prospector to that of the Royal Hudson which shut down last year.

"The demise of the Royal Hudson was a major blow to Squamish. You had 300 people coming in every day to the downtown core. They refused to fix the two steam engines. They cited the cost at over $3 million, but when I talked to the guys who actually work on them, they said they could do both for under a million."

The Budd cars like the one we’re riding in are also slated for major overhaul, and BC Rail is estimating that cost at $3.2 million for each of the seven cars. The group working to save the passenger service did their own research and found that the cars could be refurbished for $500,000 each in Moncton, New Brunswick.

As to the final fate of the Cariboo Prospector, Gerard says: "It depends on how adamant people in the affected communities are."

Cheryl Pilkington introduces me to a fellow passenger on the train who is extremely adamant about saving the Cariboo Prospector. Ron East is travelling from his home in Prince George to Vancouver to meet with John McLernon, chair of the board of directors of BC Rail. His story is both humorous and indicative of the overall situation between northern communities and the decision makers in Vancouver and Victoria. En route north of Quesnel, East received a call on his cell phone from McLernon’s secretary asking if he could meet with CEO Bob Phillips instead because McLernon was no longer available. By the time he reached Williams Lake, Phillips was no longer able to meet with him, and south of 100 Mile House he is now two more people down the ladder.

"By the time I reach Vancouver, I’ll be meeting with the janitor," East jokes. "It’s typical of the lack of concern for communities outside of Vancouver."

Ron East believes the $4 million-$5 million annual deficit of BC Rail’s passenger service is negligible compared to the money it brings into communities along the line. He also points out that as a transportation corridor into the province, the rail service doesn’t cost the taxpayer any more than other modes of transportation.

"On the highway system the question is, how much did Highway 97 make last year? We’re pretty sure it was heavily subsidized. We don’t ask ourselves how much BC Ferries made last year – it didn’t break even so shut it down. No way. And yet that’s the way we’re talking about BC Rail. Somebody needs their heads examined in Vancouver and Victoria."

Much research is being done in the US and England, East says, on re-looking at rail as a movement of people and freight.

"There’s no policing, no accidents, no ambulances," he says. "We’ve got to rethink how we manage transportation, and B.C. has a unique opportunity because we own this railroad. There’s a long history of this railroad being a backbone of the province and tying the communities together."

Outside the bustling train station in Lillooet, Ron introduces Jonathan and I to his friend Lloyd Stock. A transportation consultant, Stock is also heavily involved in the initiative to save the train.

"The network’s widening," he says, "I was just talking to the mayor’s office in Fort Nelson. They’re organizing a mayors-on-the-line meeting."

Stock has a big booming voice that overpowers the hiss of the train. He’s full of ideas on how to keep this rail line open, and I don’t envy anyone who might have to tell him the train will no longer go through his town.

"These cars are classic," he says, gesturing to the Budd car we just stepped out of. "If you’ve ever owned a ’56 T-Bird or a ’64 Corvette. In the States they fight over buying these cars and they totally rebuild them."

The train gives two short honks, as though to concur with Stock, and we say bye and hop back on.

Leaving behind the Fraser Canyon with its sage brush and pine trees, we climb back into the lush Coast Mountains. I’m ready to leave politics behind once again and savour the last bit of the trip with Jonathan. We recount the various misadventures from the last two days: burning the Jiffy Pop, throwing out the CD recorder’s re-usable battery, snagging the fish hook in the reeds. The announcer’s humorous advice to toss the caesar salad by shaking the tray vigorously sends us both into tired, giddy laughter.

As we crest the pass at Seton Portage, it occurs to me what a diverse community this rail car really is. It means all manner of things to the different people riding on it. To Jonathan and I it has been a great father-son adventure; to Ron East it’s a political journey to the decision makers in Vancouver; to the British tourists it’s a chance to witness the spectacular scenery of Western Canada up close; and to the man who boards from a flag stop near Seton Portage, with a population of two, it’s a vital link to the coast and the rest of the province.

It’s a community that stretches beyond this Budd car, one that connects the people and towns all along the line from North Vancouver to Prince George. For Jonathan and I it has been a great bonding experience — one I’d like to do again next year, if the train is still running.



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