BCAA Travel Blog

November 4th, 2008

Loaded for Bear (part 8)

by Kerry Banks

We are retracing our route back down Highway 97, headed for Lillooet. The landscape of rolling hills, lakes, river valleys and grasslands is improbably studded with huge boulders. Called “erratics,” they were deposited by the melting glacial ice sheets. Erractic is a good adjective to describe the activity in our van. I think all this driving may be starting to get to Leonard. Ever since we passed Lac La Hache, he’s been repeating the word out loud at regular intervals, each time with a different pronunciation. “Lac La Haaache. Lac La Hiihhch. Lac Laaaache.” The road giddiness seems to be contagious. Alison launches into a story about her deathly fear of snakes. Meanwhile, Dannielle has taught young Amy the nursery rhyme “I’m a Little Teapot,” and now she has everyone in the vehicle singing it, complete with tipping gestures. Racelle suddenly declares that we are going to perform it for our hosts in Lillooet, the Tit’q’et, one of 11 communities that make up the St’at’mic First Nation.

At Hat Creek Ranch we swing west on Highway 99 and motor through Marble Canyon, which is famed for its pastel-coloured limestone walls. Within the canyon there are a series of lakes that drain down toward the Fraser River. The largest of these is Pavilion Lake, which is home to a large colony of microbialities, unusual and ancient carbonate structures built by bacteria that resemble freshwater coral. These strange formations, which were discovered by recreational divers in 1997, have recently become the subject of research by astrobiologists who believe they may help them answer questions about how early life took hold and began to flourish on Earth.

Pavilion Lake is considered a “spiritual place” by the Tskwaylaxw people of Pavilion. Overlooking the scenic lake is an eroded limestone pinnacle called Chimney Rock that they believe is a “Transformer Stone,” created by the actions of the “Transformers,” a group of supernatural beings who travelled around the country putting things right by changing things into stone. The Tskwaylaxw call the formation “K’lpalekw,” which means “Coyote’s Penis” in the Shuswap language.

We roll into Lillooet around noon. Originally known as Cayoosh Flat after the cayuse ponies that once grazed the area, Lillooet boomed into existence in 1858 with the dawn of the gold rush. Designated Mile 0 on the original Cariboo Wagon Trail that led to the goldfields, the frontier outpost became a buzzing hub of activity. By 1860, Lillooet had 13 saloons and a population of 16,000, which made it the largest city west of Chicago, with the exception of San Francisco. Lillooet’s dusty main street, lined with Wild West-style buildings, hitching posts outside the saloons and drygoods stores and saddleries, became known as “the Golden Mile.” However, only a few years later when the main Cariboo Road was completed and bypassed Lillooet, the town faded in importance.

In Lillooet, we are welcomed by representatives from the St’at’mic First Nations at the St’at’mic tribal offices. They have lunch waiting for us inside their recently completed replica pit house. It’s a striking building, the largest and most beautifully constructed one that we have seen our tour. In olden times, 25 to 30 people would live in these structures during the winter months. Lit by soft sunlight seeping in through the pit house’s roof opening, we dig into a meal of smoked sockeye salmon, salmon and vegetable pate, salad and soap berry juice. Dessert is a cake made with Saskatoon berries and huckleberries. Band member Erin Leech gives us a talk about her people and regales with a song. She also poses for photos wearing a bear head and hide used in traditional St’at’mic dance performances.

Later in the day, we visit a salmon channel created by the band to give the fish a safe pace to spawn. The congregation of salmon often attracts hungry bears, which they have to drive off by banging pots and pans. Walking along the trail we spot fresh bear scat, and someone suggests it might be time to leave. As we are about to depart, Leonard impulsively puts his CD of Metis fiddling music on at full blast, gets out of the van and starts dancing a jig with a big grin on his face. Amy and Dannielle try to follow the steps, but it’s not as easy as Leonard makes it look.

We then drive north of town to view the largest late 20th-century Native fishery on the Fraser River. Every summer, hundreds of Native people gather here at the confluence of the Bridge and Fraser Rivers to dip-net sockeye salmon from the turbulent waters. The fish are filleted and hung on covered racks to dry in the warm canyon winds. This rock shelf, known in gold rush times as the Lower Fountain, was reputedly made by the trickster Coyote, leaping back and forth across the river to create platforms for people to catch and dry fish on.

Considered to be one of the oldest continuously-inhabited locations on the continent, the area is reckoned by archaeologists to have been inhabited for several thousand years. As we stand on a cliff high above the chasm, watching the fishermen and admiring the pictographs painted on the rocks, Elaine James of St’at’mic Cultural Adventures demonstrates how the salmon is filleted and cut with hatched marks before being hung up to dry. She says that during the summer families can catch and dry enough salmon to last them all winter. As she finishes, we spot a black bear prowling along the other side of the river. For Shilong, Zoe and Amy, it is cause for major excitement. It is the first bear they have seen in the wild.

We arrive back in Lillooet in late afternoon to check into our lodging for the night–the Retasket Lodge and RV Park. After unpacking, I stroll outside and take a few pictures of the motel sign, a lonely urban beacon set against the brooding backdrop of the mountains. Night falls quickly. The next morning they tell me that there was a wild party next door in the adjoining RV Park. “It sounded like someone was getting murdered over there,” says Leonard. I guess I’m a heavy sleeper. I didn’t hear a thing.