Adrift on Vancouver Island

This island place is too relaxing. We're back in Victoria after a week or so 'up island'.

First we travelled to the Walbran Valley, part of the Carmanah-Walbran Provincial Park.
http://www.env.gov.bc.ca/bcparks/explore/parkpgs/carmanah/
Mac and his comrades blocked the machines 20 years ago and pressured the government to agree to preserve part of the valley. Twenty years later, 20 or so people involved in that struggle or their families returned to the valley. I was very curious to see what would happen there and what the people would be like. Some people attending hadn't returned to the Valley since the days of the blockades. Some had had traumatic experiences there. Others saw that time as foundational in making them who they are today.

Bobby, Pete and Andy coordinated the reunion through a Facebook page - and the vans began to arrive, rolling over logging roads that were seriously full of potholes. As we drove along, Mac and his longstanding friend Warren pointed out various sites of protest. 'remember the time we put that kid in a barrel of concrete?'
Once there, we entered the forest and put up our tents amongst massive thousand year old trees. Its so quiet amongst these trees. I don't have a language for talking about this stuff really, but you feel like slowing down amongst them. And when I touch their bark, or leaned up against them, I feel a sort of slow vibration, almost electric.

People brought their kids. Lots of 'em. They were delighted with the river, the trees, the place. But not the bugs. The mosquitos were pretty horrendous. We had a campfire, and went to bed early. In the morning, more people arrived. I was curious about who had stayed politically active, and who hadn't. What were the paths people had chosen to take after such an intense experience. I found a lot of folks who were involved in some sort of community work - working with folks with addictions, or disabilities. There were woodworkers and some who did various environmental science stuff. Some people had had ongoing difficulties finding stability they desired, while others had found life less challenging. On the Saturday evening Bobby Arbus told the story of the valley and reported on its current state. It was obvious and heartbreaking on the way in to see the massive clearcuts, mudslides and raw waste of the logging up there. All around the Valley that is protected there is clearcutting going on. Only the Lower Walbran is protected after all - and even the Upper Walbran is being logged. There were songs sung and then a go-around of people there, telling about their connection to the blockades and the Valley. There was the woman whose family had been seriously religious and while they hadn't participated in the blockades, they had (all seven kids and their parents) prayed for the logging machinery to break. Which it often did (?!) There was a recognition that injuries on the blockades had lead to ongoing health problems. There was humour, talking about different nights. Like the night that the RCMP dropped off beer to the blockade, supposedly from a 'supporter'. The next morning, when everyone was hung over, they raided the camp.


And there was real warmth between these folks - and a recognition of both that time, and the time that had passed. I couldn't focus as much as I wanted to during the stories, as Sidney and another kid were busy playing with the campfire. But it was clear that the gathering was a good one.

The next day, most people hiked up to 'Giggling Spruce' and some went all the way to Anderson Lake. The trails were pretty rough, but the trees were jaw dropping. It was apparent that not too many people had been hiking them lately. Mac, Sidney and I camped up at Giggling Spruce for the night - listening to the stream and eating in the tent to avoid the mosquitos. The next day, everyone else had gone, but we traipsed up to ice cold Anderson Lake to swim and explore. Throughout the day we could hear the buzz and rumble of machinery, which put a bit of a damper on our sense of 'unspoilt wilderness.' When we left the following day, we got a bit lost and ended up bushwhacking and clambering down cliffs with our backpacks. After crossing a waterfall with slippery rocks Sidney mused 'Today I thought one of us was going to die..." And I know why he thought that - the thought had crossed my mind as well.

Finally we said good bye to the amazing giant trees, the waterfall and the clearcuts and headed out onto the road...



Where we headed for Tofino, Uclulet and Long Beach - and Shane, Kim, Ash (3 1/2 years old) and their friend Nathan and his dog Sequoia. We camped at a gorgeous, albeit small site at Wya Point. This is a First Nations owned and run campground where we had a site adjoining the beach. And what  beach it was - rocks, starfish, crashing waves, freezing water. Deep breath.... aaaahhhhhh.  We stayed there for a couple of days, exploring the tidal pools and eating well. But then we got booted. It was the long weekend and we hadn't reserved in advance. So, like the Holy family (well, kind of like the holy family?), we wandered, looking for an inn. or a campsite. We were welcomed at the Mackenzie Beach campground - which was more like a front yard connected to the beach that gradually filled up completely with tents. And then their back yard filled up. And then their parking lot until the whole place was like a folk festival or something. We were just glad to stay in one of the prettiest places around for another night. Sat up late, talking politics, kids literature and Monty Python and drinking around the campfire. Not a bad way to pass the time.


Once we'd got a place, Mac and I decided to see if we could remember how to surf. We'd taken one lesson, three years ago but we thought we could figure it out. We rented a board and wetsuits and headed for Long Beach. Through trial and error I remembered which way to put my wetsuit on. Where to hold the board to avoid being klonked in the head, and how to avoid being rammed into the sand by a wave. Both of us gradually figured it out and thrilled to the rush and power of surfing. Seriously. I could do this a lot. It takes my breath away to feel the wave lift the board and me and speed me towards shore.


And now we're back in Victoria - at Pete and Erica's collective house - old friends of Mac's from the blockade days. Pete's kid is named Fern, and Erica's are named Cedar and Lily. Makes me smile. Pete is an amazing, British woodworker - so the place is full of gorgeously turned wood. Erica owns the Wildfire Bakery - so there's good food too. Both of them celebrated their birthdays yesterday so we met friends and then I went out with Erica and her crew dancing at the Electronic Music festival. The music kind of sucked - but it was still entertaining to run around and get into trouble, late late in the night. Mac will have his turn tonight.

I'm feeling so relaxed now - honestly Toronto and its stresses seem pretty far away. But I have a few days of hardcore nose-to-the-grindstone work ahead - editing the 'ol book. So you may hear more from me.