Last year, when I headed west, I ended up going through Jasper because of the extensive flooding from Canmore to Calgary. While perhaps I could have got through by going south through Lethbridge, It seemed to me that the last thing anyone needed was one more person passing through a region that was experiencing such stress. By the time the flooding was finished, hundreds of people had been displaced for a period of time, some had lost their homes completely and millions of dollars of damage had been done by the raging river. The Calgary Stampede, in large measure because of the good flood planning of the City of Calgary, the leadership of the administration of the city and the hard work of thousands of volunteers happened on schedule.
The Bow River did not this year overflow its banks. Canmore, High River and Calgary did not experience any flooding, but the residents of Brandon, Winnipeg and other smaller communities have experienced the trauma of anticipating and then living through their homes and livelihood being put at risk. For a small handful of farms, their fields have been flooded intentionally so that other more populated areas could be saved.
While the destruction to property and the resultant chaos in peoples lives should be of concern to everyone, of more significance is how some people are starting to discuss how to resolve the problem of flooding. While there is a general acceptance that the change in weather patterns is a direct result of the amount of pollutants humans are putting into the environment, some people are now arguing that there is nothing we can do about reversing the trend; that we have missed that window of opportunity to start to resolve the problem; that all we can do now is to find ways of living with the changes in the climate and mediate the consequences as best we are able.
It seems to me that if this attitude starts to assume dominance within government circles, we will spend billions and billions of infrastructure dollars building improved flood gates, dikes and diversion lanes. We will create and staff complex emergency response systems that will, as much as possible, reduce the stress on people, their property and their businesses. While these are worthy projects, they should not be the priority. To do so is to give up. To focus on strategies and structures of how to live with the increase in extreme weather is to accept that we have no responsibility in creating the problem. If we refuse to accept responsibility of having created the problem - we will never accept the obligation to fix it. If our focus becomes on how to live with the change as opposed to stopping and then reversing the change, then we will be at war with our environment forever.
No one ever really ever wins a war.
Friday, July 11, 2014
On the Road Again 2014 #10
I finally got to hitchhike!!!! It felt so good to have my thumb out - waiting for a ride. Even if I was hitching on Salt Spring Island (which is generally an easy place to hitch) it felt as if things were finally getting back to normal.
I had arranged to go to Salt Spring to visit a friend. I didn't plan on hitchhiking. I was not sure if my back (and in particular my back muscles had healed sufficiently well enough to carry a pack any real distance or to even to just stand in one spot for an hour or so. I had checked the bus and ferry schedule and it looked as if all of the connections were quite doable. On paper it looked as if I would only have to wait 10-15 minutes at each location. With any luck at all I would only have to hitchhike the last 3-4 kilometers.
I really need to have someone look after me. Or at least have someone to stop me from making dumb decisions. The bus/ferry schedules have never in the past lined up. Why would I assume that they would this year? Because of course they didn't. The Duncan/Crofton bus left 10 minutes later than I thought the on-line schedule suggested, which meant that I missed the ferry to Salt Spring, which meant that I missed the bus from Vesuvius to Ganges etc etc. All of which was fine. I don't mind hanging around Crofton for 45 minutes. As long as the fumes from the pulp mill are drifting the other way it is a pleasant little place. I also didn't mind hitching from the ferry terminal to Ganges. It is only a 10 minute walk up the hill to a shady spot with room for a car to pull over, the weather was pleasant and I was glad to be on the island. I got a ride fairly quickly from a ferry employee. We had the usual chat about the glories of living on the island. There are so many that time one compares the island's many attributes with the sad failings of the rest of the country, one is already in Ganges.
I walked to the bus stop, found that I would have to wait for well over an hour for the next bus to Fulford Harbour and decided to hitch. After all - I had got a quick and easy ride to Ganges.....obviously my luck was with me or the Gods were smiling upon me or something. I did get rides, in fact I got three of them (for what is, I think about a 20 minute car ride from Ganges to Fulford ). Two of the places I was let out were in really bad spots with no shoulders which meant that I had to walk a fair distance to get to a safer spot. The last walk took about 20 minutes, much of it up hill. I beat the bus to Fulford Harbour by about ten minutes. I was already tired, hot, and more than a bit sore by the time I got to the turn off to Beaver Point Road. This was the last stretch - the spot that I had known from the beginning would require some walking. After walking a bit I did get a ride that got me most of the way to my destination.
Beaver Point Road is a pleasant shaded road with relatively little traffic and non-existing shoulders that wanders besides two lakes and through a lovely forest. It would have been a very enjoyable walk if I had not picked up my pack too many times, gotten into too many cars and walked too much. As it was , I was sore to the point that all that wanted to do was to lay down on the side of the road and not move for a few hours. But I persevered - not because I am strong, or because I am particularly hard working, but because I didn't have a choice. My choices were miles and a few hours behind me when I decided, in Ganges, not to wait for the bus.
It was great to finally get to the house. It was particularly great to sit down and do nothing.....except I am really poor at doing nothing. At some point in the late afternoon I decided to help someone move Puck. Puck is a three foot high cement statue of Puck or some humanoid/elf like woodland creature. He is, perhaps not surprisingly, rather heavy. Again I really need to have someone look after me. Or at least have someone to stop me from making dumb decisions. Needless to say - my back hurt after the move and twelve hours later it still hurts.
But I am on Salt Spring and that is a good thing.
I had arranged to go to Salt Spring to visit a friend. I didn't plan on hitchhiking. I was not sure if my back (and in particular my back muscles had healed sufficiently well enough to carry a pack any real distance or to even to just stand in one spot for an hour or so. I had checked the bus and ferry schedule and it looked as if all of the connections were quite doable. On paper it looked as if I would only have to wait 10-15 minutes at each location. With any luck at all I would only have to hitchhike the last 3-4 kilometers.
I really need to have someone look after me. Or at least have someone to stop me from making dumb decisions. The bus/ferry schedules have never in the past lined up. Why would I assume that they would this year? Because of course they didn't. The Duncan/Crofton bus left 10 minutes later than I thought the on-line schedule suggested, which meant that I missed the ferry to Salt Spring, which meant that I missed the bus from Vesuvius to Ganges etc etc. All of which was fine. I don't mind hanging around Crofton for 45 minutes. As long as the fumes from the pulp mill are drifting the other way it is a pleasant little place. I also didn't mind hitching from the ferry terminal to Ganges. It is only a 10 minute walk up the hill to a shady spot with room for a car to pull over, the weather was pleasant and I was glad to be on the island. I got a ride fairly quickly from a ferry employee. We had the usual chat about the glories of living on the island. There are so many that time one compares the island's many attributes with the sad failings of the rest of the country, one is already in Ganges.
I walked to the bus stop, found that I would have to wait for well over an hour for the next bus to Fulford Harbour and decided to hitch. After all - I had got a quick and easy ride to Ganges.....obviously my luck was with me or the Gods were smiling upon me or something. I did get rides, in fact I got three of them (for what is, I think about a 20 minute car ride from Ganges to Fulford ). Two of the places I was let out were in really bad spots with no shoulders which meant that I had to walk a fair distance to get to a safer spot. The last walk took about 20 minutes, much of it up hill. I beat the bus to Fulford Harbour by about ten minutes. I was already tired, hot, and more than a bit sore by the time I got to the turn off to Beaver Point Road. This was the last stretch - the spot that I had known from the beginning would require some walking. After walking a bit I did get a ride that got me most of the way to my destination.
Beaver Point Road is a pleasant shaded road with relatively little traffic and non-existing shoulders that wanders besides two lakes and through a lovely forest. It would have been a very enjoyable walk if I had not picked up my pack too many times, gotten into too many cars and walked too much. As it was , I was sore to the point that all that wanted to do was to lay down on the side of the road and not move for a few hours. But I persevered - not because I am strong, or because I am particularly hard working, but because I didn't have a choice. My choices were miles and a few hours behind me when I decided, in Ganges, not to wait for the bus.
It was great to finally get to the house. It was particularly great to sit down and do nothing.....except I am really poor at doing nothing. At some point in the late afternoon I decided to help someone move Puck. Puck is a three foot high cement statue of Puck or some humanoid/elf like woodland creature. He is, perhaps not surprisingly, rather heavy. Again I really need to have someone look after me. Or at least have someone to stop me from making dumb decisions. Needless to say - my back hurt after the move and twelve hours later it still hurts.
But I am on Salt Spring and that is a good thing.
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