Canoeing Down The Fraser River

By some unexpected blessing, an application to the 3-day Rivers Clinic for Environmental Leaders (RCEL) program saw a small group of us UBC students going on a canoe-camping trip (courtesy of the UBC Sustanability Initiative!) over the weekend, along with students from other unis around Vancouver and the Lower Mainland. 18 of us - along with two coordinators and two canoe guides - made an unforgettable 60km paddle down the Fraser River from Fort Langley to Richmond's McDonald Beach Park in our two canoes, staying the nights out in our little tents. And every bit of it was fantastic.




The first morning we pushed our canoes off from the riverbank at Glenn Valley Regional Park, it was hard to not be breathtaken by the pure vastness of the grand Fraser sprawled out in front of us, around us, like a blanket in all its shimmering glory under the perfect sun that gave us warmth. Prior to starting our trip, the RiverShed Society BC founder related the story of his incredible efforts to save the wild salmon population that has been declining at a frightening pace. He pointed out the importance of instilling concern for the environment in the minds and hearts of people outside our environmentalist frames because then they would naturally protect something if they care about it, and that spending time outdoors would no doubt allow us to feel our own deep and personal connections with nature.

On our second evening we docked at Coquitlam and were welcomed by the Kwikwetlem First Nations people who hosted us and fed us with wild salmon dinner. The councilor and an elder talked of the smaller land they had no choice but to adapt to, compared to the larger lands they used to have but don't anymore ever since European contact with the country many years ago. It shone through admirably, their resilience and strength in the face of all this and in the decline of salmon which they depend on.

At their community garden, we were given a tour of their bat farm that was lovingly cared for by a wonderful nature conservationist named Kiyoshi of 86 years old. As dusk approached, we all sat in silence on the grass waiting for the bats to leave their boxes Kiyoshi had built for them. It got darker, and slowly a few of them started flitting out, then by the masses they were swooping out, quietly with the speed of hummingbirds, over our fascinated heads and awed murmurs and out toward the rest of the farm where each one would feed on about 2500 mosquitoes per hour. It was absolute magic.

To be sure, what made the trip gold was the people I camped and canoed with too. How humbling yet invigorating, to be around such kind, inspiring, accomplished individuals so dedicated to improving the environment, and with whom I could share the same goals. All along I worried I would not be able to contribute enough to the program. But what a barrier self-doubt is; take it down and you'll see how incredibly far you can go.

Those hours spent on the river were a natural and cohesive mergence of us with one another, with the river and with nature. My mind was so cleared yet so calmingly full at the same time, with all the right things it seemed. As we gradually paddled into the city, notably, we passed by this mountainous heap of a car junk site that loomed by the river and towered over our canoes. More of the city's infrastructure began to make their appearance as well, coexisting with the subdued river. I personally found it amazing and valuable: our ability to build such splendid things of concrete and, positively, our potential to push for and to maintain the balance between our technological advancements with nature that has always been there, which is what we come from, are made of, essentially are. It was beautiful to see nature surrounded - sometimes suffocated - by the technology around it, because though it wasn't the wilderness and neither was it raw, it was nature nevertheless, and not any less worthy of appreciation.

I took away a lot of new knowledge and inspiration and drive from this time. And also a lot of questions. What more can I do and how? How will I know when I'll be satisfied? Will I ever be satisfied? How do you know how much you should do and how many directions you should take without wearing yourself out? Which even is/are the right direction(s)? Not everything has answers, but I find there is more and more left I'm compelled to do. There is so much to work on, for instance I'm a long shot from living a fully zero-waste lifestyle but I'll have to get there. The people I've come across who have worked and achieved so much sustainability-wise really do humiliate and inspire me every time.

The night we stayed out in Coquitlam, a circle of us were sitting/lying in the middle of our circle of tents massaging one another's sore muscles from canoeing. Someone pointed out the Big Dipper. I looked up and sure enough there were the seven stars poking right at us out of the dark velvet that gazed down towards earth. I am a Southeast Asian city person. I had never seen a sky constellation. To say I'm grateful for everything would be an understatement.

Some pics from my iPhone (first photo above was taken by our coordinator Megan):

green line indicates our paddle path from Glen Valley.

The following are more photos taken by Megan: