After trying to stay in one place since April, having work fall through and more work fall through, and examining the concerned expressions of roommates as I consumed damaged canned goods and produce with a famished fervor, it was time to explore all possible options for keeping myself fed and housed.

After a flurry of e-mails, and another whirlwind of paperwork and trips to the fax machine to send-off resumes and copies of certifications, I got an e-mail from Thom Henley who I had led a trip to Indonesia for in February. He offered to have me on as a volunteer worker at a camp he was constructing for international youth in Kitwanga. After some research, I found that Kitwanga was located on the Skeena River inland from Prince Rupert British Columbia, just a bit south of Mt. Edziza Provincial Park and the Stikine River where I had worked the year before with Alaska Crossings. With visions of salmon and mountains dancing in my head, I said yes and packed my bags.

En route I visited my friend Ian and his girlfriend Jen on Vancouver Island. We went backpacking for a day in a fog covered alpine landscape before we decided that the views were better down below and headed to lower elevation for urban explorations. Then it was on to Vancouver (the city- not island) to meet Thom and travel north by car to his land on the Skeena. The land was incredible. Perhaps the single most beautiful piece of privately owned property I have ever seen. The Seven Sisters- an impressive granitic range I liken to the Tetons on steroids struck into the sky on one side. Glaciers poured down into old growth cedar, fir, and cottonwood before the forest flowed to the edge of a field rampant with white daisies. On the other side Frog Mountain- still capped with snow in early summer- stood over the Skeena River which cut a vertical bank and rid the land of a row of balsam poplar trees that once anchored the soil but blocked the incredible view down the Skeena's riparian corridor. And standing elegantly along the border of the land were a series of structures: A storage “shed”, which was more the size of a small house- was built with a chainsaw in five days by “Mr. A”, a Thai man who I led the Indonesia trip with. There was a gorgeous dining hall made from large timbers fit together with pegs, an outhouse, and a series of tent platforms for canvas wall tents like those used by prospectors at the turn of the century.

Thom explained the new projects. A water tower, solar and wind power, shower facilities, a pantry with stone walls, and a new outhouse. I thought back over my previous construction experiences building water gardens, erecting fences, and of course constructing lizard cages. I began scratching my head. Then I remembered that I also had experience remodeling a nineteenth century log cabin using hand tools when I was sixteen, a bit of time building mud huts in Northern Thailand, and I'd done a lot of research on alternative energy systems and a bit of design work back in college. Eureka. I had all the false confidence I needed to begin.

And so work began with the few tools I had- a tape measure, hammer, nails, handsaw, and a pile of scrap lumber leftover from a mill that had closed-down. Later, I obtained a straight edge, level, power tools, and a generator, which greatly sped-up the process. Progress was still slow since most of the lumber I was using was warped or not uniform in thickness, and every time we needed more supplies we had to drive more than an hour into the nearest town, and load as much as we could into our shiny silver four-door rental while gritting our teeth at the thought of paying for a scratch in the paint.

During the three weeks of construction I oversaw two young workers from a nearby Gitxan reservation, and a volunteer named Erhardt from Mexico as we constructed the pantry, put-up wall tents, dug ditches for waterlines, built a bar for the dining hall, helped a neighbor install the plumbing, constructed a new outhouse, and erected the pilings and main supports for the water tower. It may have been a slow process, but I was impressed by the meager results we achieved.

After the construction phase it was on to the training phase, as a group of people from Canada and the United States gathered to participate in Rediscovery International's eleven day training for youth workers. The training included bushcraft, navigation and route finding, camp safety standards, voyageur canoing, and cultural and natural history as we visited modern and historic sites of the Tsimshian, Gitxan, Wet'suwet'en, and Nisga'a Fist Nations Peoples. A highlight for me was stuffing myself with salmon, fry bread, and eulachon (candle fish)- which were traditionally used by First Nations People for their oils which could be burned for light, or mixed with food as a caloric preservative. Another highlight (and this one more lasting than the mouth fulls of amazing food) was getting to know people like Val, Ken, Lavender and Theo, who introduced me not only to their Gitxan culture, but also showed me a level of hospitality and generosity that I hope I can show to others in my own life. And of course I also had a wonderful time with James, Maggie, Lea, Midori, Erhadt, Pat, and Thom as we traveled, worked, and learned with and from each other each day. 

And now I am back in Bellingham, readying myself to lead a sailing course for youth in the San Juan Islands off Washington's coast. It's sunny and warm here like most of the States at the moment, and I'm desperate to leave this laptop behind and get out in some rays before they remember this is the Pacific Northwest and go back where they came from.

Happy summers to you all! Light a candle-fish for me,

Glen

PS: If you're ever having bad luck fishing in BC, don't forget to check the road.  James grabbed us a huge Spring Salmon dropped by an eagle onto the highway.  It was still cold, and definitely still delicious despite the claw marks.