On the road again (heading east) part # 3

The bus drivers in Whistler were friendly and helpful.  In fact one of them went out of his way to ensure that I got on the right bus that would ensure that I got to the furthest point east in the fastest time. They were only doing their job, but they did it with humour and politeness.

For the next few hours as I travelled along highway 99 I had a number of short 10-15 minute rides separated by 30 minute waits. I seldom ask where someone is going or how far until we are well under way. There were a number of times during my return trip that I wondered if I should change this policy. It frequently felt as if I was going from a not great spot to hitchhike from to a even worse spot. On the other hand, it all worked out ok and I eventually got to where I wanted to go.

My first ride of the day was from a pilot who had lived with his family in the area for a long time. They loved it. They had done well financially and were therefore able to own both property in Whistler as well as a farm near Pemberton. He had just driven his youngest daughter to Victoria to register at the University. So we spent a bit of time talking about that place and what a good choice it was for her. As with so many of my drivers this day and others, I liked the man. We had nothing in common in terms of lifestyle, but he was interesting to talk to. I would have liked to learn more about the area and the politics of growth and expansion.

My next drivers were a young couple driving a SUV loaded down with biking gear. It was a very short drive so I am not too sure what they did for a living, but they had moved around a lot. I think they had lived in most of the areas between Vancouver and Whistler, looking I suspect for that perfect spot that would allow them the maximum opportunity to earn a living and more importantly the opportunity to recreate in the mountains.
They let me off in a very strange spot where highway 99 takes a 90 degree right hand turn. The corner appeared to be in the middle of a First Nation’s community. There was a lot of local car traffic and a number of curious stares from people walking by. I think the name of the village was D’Arcy although I am not sure. At one point a large group of First Nations people walked by. And then they turned around and walked back. It felt as if they belonged to some sort of exercise group. It was strange to be standing there, being stared at by 20 or so individuals. I wonder what they thought about me, if anything at all. A few minutes later someone went by on a bicycle being pulled by their dog. He yelled out that if I wanted to get anywhere I should get a bike.  I told him that I was going too far for that. Which of course is not true. Lots of people travel by bike across Canada. I see them surprisingly often. What I have never seen before were cross country skiers.

As I was standing at this spot, waiting for a car to come by, pacing back and forth, kicking stones and generally trying to amuse myself, I noticed that there were some people on the highway poling themselves along with ski poles. On their feet were short ski like devices with cross country bindings. I thought it was an interesting form of torture and wondered who in the right mind would spend their summers pretending that they were cross country skiing on hard pavement. On the other hand I was voluntarily standing on the pavement  waiting for a car to go by. I was in no position to question any one’s sanity.

Finally the driver of a pick-up truck did stop and offer me a ride.  He was an older First Nations man who was only going a little bit down the road, but who said that he would at least get me away from the local traffic. It was the first of a series of three drives that I would have with First Nation individuals over the next four days – all of which would affect me more than most rides. We talked about his community which I believe was the N'Quatqua First Nation and the extraordinary high unemployment rate. We talked about the fact that the Canadian Government had yet to settle with his community in terms of the land claims. When I said that I was embarrassed that my government had taken so long he accepted my apology with grace. But what was most significant was his admission that some of the reasons for the current state of affairs in First Nation communities were the responsibility of the people who lived there.

I have had a lot of rides with people who have ancestral ties to our First Nations. This man was the first one who said that some of what his people talked about was not true.  While some of my drivers have referred to the problems that intra-tribal conflicts can cause, they have generally (and quite rightly) laid the blame on the Canadian Government who had created the system. But this elder was saying something different.
He was saying (I think) that some people used the excuse that because they had always done something a certain way (traditional culture) they should be allowed, if not facilitated, to continue to do so. But my driver was suggesting that some behaviours were wrong and should not be continued. He used the example of wife beating, but I think he was referring to a whole set of behaviours that are maladaptive to a healthy community. I really wished that we could have driven longer than the 15 minutes we did. It would have been a fascinating conversation.

He let me out before turning down a rough dirt road towards his house.