Story and photos by Alison Lapshinoff
Pressing down on my shoulders were three litres of water, two
litres of wine, a tent, sleeping bag and stove, a bag of food, my clothes and a
small bottle of whiskey. Just ahead, my partner shouldered a similar weight,
plus that of a 70 pound canoe balanced somewhat precariously over his head.
Without the bulk of a large canoe restricting my view, the wide trail was easy
to follow. It meandered along for nearly two kilometres beside a clear stream
and through a lush, inviting forest of evergreens and deciduous trees,
sprightly ferns and plush beds of thick moss.
Presently, we approached one of the many roughly constructed
canoe rests built at intervals along the path that connected Lois and Horseshoe
Lakes, and my partner stiffly eased the canoe off his broad shoulders, beads of
sweat standing out on his forehead. The campsite couldn’t be far now…
Located at the top of the Sunshine Coast, 130 kilometres north
and two ferry rides away from Vancouver, the Powell Forest Canoe Route is one
of Powell River’s main tourist attractions. Eight lakes ranging in length from
one kilometre to 29 are connected by a series of short portages covering a
total distance of nearly 60 kilometres. Over 20 basic forest service campsites
constructed en route are free of charge and make the whole trip a comfortable
five-day adventure.
Just ahead, the small, three-unit campsite came into view. Nestled
in the forest beside a glassy Horseshoe Lake, picnic tables and an outhouse
were provided. With evident relief, my partner eased himself of his burden and
promptly began digging in my overstuffed pack for the bottle of whiskey. Only a
few small chores remained. Drinking water had to be boiled, the tent set up and
our food strung up in a tree, away from hungry wildlife.
A short exploration of the area soon revealed that tourism was
definitely
not
the region’s mainstay,
for just beyond a thin buffer of trees glared a massive clearcut.
Rooted in industry, Powell River’s major economic engine is the
large, unsightly pulp mill that dominates a significant stretch of the
waterfront and continually belches plumes of unsavory smoke into the
atmosphere. Built in 1909, the Powell River Paper Company’s founders planned
and built the town, ensuring employee housing was of sound construction, homes
had ample room for gardens and the town itself had plenty of green space.
Employing about 700 people, the pulp mill, now owned by Catalyst, was once the
world’s largest producer of newsprint and today continues to keep Powell
River’s pulp industry alive and well.
Although forestry is the economic backbone of Powell River, the
area’s natural beauty and consistently mild weather are slowly drawing more
tourists to the region. Its limited accessibility allows for a laid-back,
low-key lifestyle that appeals to many, drawing artists, musicians and hobby
farmers as well as industrial types, creating an extremely diverse community.
Tourists are beckoned by the perpetual sunshine, coming to fish
in the calm, blue Pacific flanked by a rocky coastline, to kayak in Desolation
Sound Marine Park, to explore the myriad of Forest Service Roads that provide
access to countless recreation sites and to canoe on a multitude of inland
lakes. Recreation opportunities abound, however an untouched wilderness it is
not. The land is scarred by years of carelessly planned logging and peaceful
excursions into the backcountry are frequently interrupted by the wails of a
distant chainsaw.
The canoe route’s construction began in 1982 as a “make work”
project for loggers collecting employment insurance. One of several projects,
the men blazed trails between the lakes, constructing floats and bridges where
necessary and clearing the small recreation sites that line the portages and
lakeshores. Today, the route is still maintained by the Ministry of Forests,
however, in some places, it is evident that its upkeep is not the first
priority.
The eight kilometre paddle down Lois Lake became somewhat more
of an adventure than anticipated. Owing to a dam at one end of the lake, the
water was significantly lower than usual, exposing a myriad of tree trunks,
usually submerged, creating an eerie maze that we navigated with the help of a
few difficult-to-spot signs hanging unsteadily on their posts.
Arriving at what appeared to be the end of the lake, no sign of
a portage was evident, just a rocky stream over which we towed our gear.
Sinking to our knees in mud and cursing the relentless sun beating on our
shoulders, I began to question the sanity of this endeavour. It was with
poignant relief that we reached what would have been, had the water level not
been so low, a clearly marked trail head.
The next morning, cup of hot and steamy, yet utterly
distasteful instant coffee in hand, the previous day’s hardships were
forgotten. An ethereal morning mist hung over the glassy lake, gently obscuring
the adventures of a new day yet to unfold. Pondering the co-existence of two fundamentally
different industries in a small town like Powell River, I couldn’t help
wondering if one would eventually push out the other. Logging roads push into
the backcountry, providing access to a multitude of special places that would
otherwise be inaccessible, however, one cannot escape the reality that the road
was built to facilitate the clearcut that mars what was once a perfect view.
Guiding our canoe through the stillness of the morning, I
considered our almost total solitude along the Powell Forest Canoe Route. No
reservations were necessary and our only expense that of the canoe rental. But
the land surrounding us bore the scars of industry; the clearcut at my back a
glaring reminder that this was not a pristine wilderness park. Throughout the entire
journey, one is never far from a logging road.
Cutting swiftly through the water to the day’s destination, some six kilometres across Horseshoe Lake, a fish jumped and from somewhere in the distance we heard the screech of an eagle. For the time being the two industries seem to be able to co-exist, peacefully sharing the land. Tourism has a way of pushing out other industries. However, forestry, being the region’s major bread-winner, is probably not ready to shut down any time soon.