Humility and Gifts along HWY 2a : Wetaskiwin to Ponoka

Today brought many gifts and important lessons as well as lots of time to reflect as we trekked along the Trans Canada Trail which walked along the side of Alberta’s HWY 2A for more than 35 km. 

Yesterday when we at initially set out to trek from Wetaskiwin to Ponoka we were stopped by a local RCMP officer at Tim Hortons.   He initially came up to us because he had never seen anything like our hiking carts before, wondered about them for carrying his fishing and hunting gear on the weekends and so was curious.  As the chat continued on the usual questions and conversation took place.  Where are you hiking? Why are you hiking?  How do you plan for such a hike?  What is your route and next destination?  When we noted that the Trans Canada Trail would trace some 37 km from Wetaskiwin down HWY 2A to the town of Ponoka the officer’s demeanour changed.  At first he inferred that it was illegal to walk down the side of provincial highways and then admitted that it was allowed but began to list the number of times people walking, hiking and cycling have been struck and killed in the coming stretch.  He noted the lack of any real trail or pathway to follow, the incredibly high speed of the local traffic, and the fact that we would have to contend with RVs, transports, and trucks the entire 7-9 hours of walking.   His blunt description was that the coming highway section was 'narly' which literally means 'insane'.  As we chatted the officer checked the Trans Canada Trail’s own website to confirm that this was the stated route of the national trail.  As was his counterpart in Edmonton the officer in Wetaskiwin was dumbfounded that a hiking trail would be put on such a busy highway.  His parting words were to find another way...a safer way...to trek south.   After his sage advice we backtracked and spent the day reconsidering our options.  

These warnings led us to Google the situation, which as usual just made things worse when we discovered how many pedestrians had been killed or injured there in the past few years.  We emailed a local organization, a TCT affiliate known as CARTS or the Central Alberta Regional Trails Society who responded almost immediately and also lamented that the listed official route was a dangerous one and suggested other concessions as alternative paths than the provincial highway.  Good Advice.  

Throughout the day we also reached out Dana Meise and Mel Vogel – the first of whom was the first and still the only person to walk to all three oceans and the second is now about 8 days ahead of us heading to her third ocean on the west coast and so has just ventured down this stretch.  Dana’s advice was to follow our instincts and not to get caught up on a random line drawn on a computer by someone who would never walk a single kilometre of trail.  If we didn’t feel safe, find another way to the next destination.  Smart advice.  Mel’s comments were that the road in front of us was busy, but manageable.  She also noted that it had a really wide shoulder and that the peoples along it were great to meet up with.   Yet despite all of this supportive input our minds had gotten caught on news reports and the dangers.  And so a day passed worrying more and more about the unknown as we googled more and more. 

After 20 hours of worrying today would see us stepping out back onto the trail…er highway.  We left very early in the morning to avoid as much traffic as possible, and as Mel suggested this route did indeed have a wide, flat, paved shoulder.  We soon came to see, as often happens in these situations, it was far worse in our imaginations than in reality.  Clearly, we still haven't learned to avoid the trap of believing the worst before we've experienced something.  Apparently it is a long road to wisdom - more than 11,000 km for us anyway. 

 

 

When we left around 5:30 am it was wonderfully cloudy and cool.  We arrived back at Tim Hortons to find only the drive-thru open, but the very kind lady inside opened the door for us and a pair of paramedics who were also desperately looking for caffeine and a bite of breakfast.  This was our first gift of the day.  It came with additional warnings about walking the highway and good wishes for a safe journey, for which we were very grateful. 

Yesterday's rain had left the ground soaking wet, and the air was so damp that moisture was condensing in visible droplets on the black cloth of the hiking carts.  It was also condensing on us, which felt decidedly weird and gross.  However, as the sun rose it turned the grasses and rising mist in the fields into gold, which was incredibly beautiful.  This was the second gift. 

As we headed out of town we discovered the excellent quality of the wide, flat, paved, highway shoulder, which was the third blessing.  At the edge of town an old grain elevator still stood tall.  A train with many cars curved around its base, waiting quietly to be filled with grain when harvest time arrives. 

There was almost no traffic at that hour of the morning, but we soon saw someone approaching on a bicycle. At first his slow progress and strange behaviour didn't make sense, but it turned out to be an Indigenous man who was picking up garbage to clean up the roads and collecting empties in the ditch. He rode slowly along until he spotted one, then dismounted, went to fetch it, and then returned to the bike. He stopped to chat with us, then continued on, returning several times to continue the conversation about our walk west.  He was very friendly and encouraging, but it was a little unnerving how many empties he managed to collect - a whole garbage bag full!  We proceeded onward hoping that we were not trekking during happy hour. 

A short distance later we spotted another person walking towards us.  She stopped to talk to our friend on the bicycle, and then stopped to say hello to us.  It was clear the Indigenous lady was struggling a bit, and had apparently decided to head into town to escape a disagreement with her sister and aunties.  One question she asked really stuck with us - she wanted to know how we were treated when we walked through towns and reserves.  The answer we can honestly give is that we are almost always treated with absolute and open kindness.  I know the answer would be very different for her, and this is something that has bothered us since we began this journey. I sadly am unsure whether the amazing reception we have received in communities across Canada would be as positive as it has been if I inhabited a body that wasn't white, and I wish there was more I could do to change the conditions that make that true.  I do believe that nature is for everyone and should be a safe space for all persons, but also freely admit that I the experiences and challenges other persons might face on this expedition might well be very different from my own. 

Continuing on the highway was bordered by fields of grain, canola, and grasses.  An active train line ran parallel to the road on one side, and it was bordered by old-school utilities poles - the ones that are short and have a cross-bar topped with rows of coloured glass fuses that are used to string the wires along.  Many birds used these poles and the wires as perches, including Red-winged Blackbirds, Eastern Kingbirds, Barn Swallows, Tree Swallows, Song Sparrows, American Goldfinches, Rock Doves, and many others.  At one point a huge Red-tailed Hawk took flight with an iconic scream from a post right in front of us.  Another highlight was spotting a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker pecking away at a post.  

As we rolled easily along the paved road a very long freight train passed by, the engineer sounding the whistle and waving at us.  His huge smile and white teeth gleamed as the massive machine rolled past.   Once it had finally gone through, a crew of railway workers drove their trucks past us on the rails, and began to do repairs ahead of us, quickly and methodically cutting up the ties and trestles and soon after replacing them with new parts.  A short distance farther on we heard a frantic cheeping beside us, and noticed a group of five or six fledgling ducks running along the rails. They were trapped on one side of the tracks, being unable to fly and too short to hop over the ties.  Their mom was on the far side, waddling along at high speed.  Hopefully she eventually took pity on them and moved back to their side before the next train came through! 

We passed the Bear Paw Trading Post, which looked a bit sketchy on the outside and was very heavily barricaded, but apparently offers a huge selection of beads, bangles, sequins, and other supplies for crafting powwow outfits.  Shortly after this we crossed into land occupied by the Ermineskin CreeNation.  This First Nation is one of the Four Nations of Maskwacis, which are located between Wetaskiwin and Ponoka.  The other three First Nations are the Samson Cree First Nation (Reserve #137), the Louis Bull Tribe, and the Montana First Nation. 

This area is known as Maskwacis, which is the Cree word for "Bear Hills."  This is what Father Constantine Scollen called it when he attempted to re-establish a Catholic Missionary there in 1884 and 1885.  He is remembered for working with Chief Bobtail to persuade the young Cree men of the area not to join in the North-West Rebellion. 

Maskwacis is also the name of a larger community on highway 2A, at the centre of the reserves.  As we walked towards it, we received the fourth gift of the day, which was humbling and completely unexpected.  A large pickup truck pulled over ahead of us and waited for us to reach it.  These moments are always a little scary, because we have no idea what the driver wants.  We began to pull onto the grass to pass, when a Cree man jumped out.  He came over to us, saying he was inspired by whatever it was we were doing, and he offered us a braided strand of fresh sweet grass.  He said it would keep us safe in our travels, no matter how far we went, but we had to make sure not to lose it.  We spoke to him and his wife for a few moments, unsure how to express our heartfelt thanks at this spontaneous gesture of generosity. 

We continued on towards Maskwacis, and when we reached the edge of the community, diverting off the paved highway onto a gravel road, we saw the same couple again. Melissa, the man's wife, asked to take our photo, and said she had tried to organize a small welcome get-together for us, but that most people weren't at work yet.  She told us proudly that Pope Francis will be visiting the Erminskin and Samson First Nations next week, and this was why the road had just been paved.  

The reason for the Pope's visit is to speak with survivors of the Erminskin Indian Residential School, which is one of the largest Residential Schools in Canada.  It was in operation from 1895 until 1975, during which time at least 15 students died.  Survivors from the school have reported to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission that they experienced physical abuse for speaking their first language and practising their traditional ceremonies.  The 84-year-old Pope is only scheduled to spend one hour on the reserve, but he is expected to apologize for the trauma the Catholic institution has inflicted, and the hope is that he will have time to listen and make the visit meaningful. 

Maskwacis created its own independent school system in 2016 to serve its member nations.  As we walked through the community we could see groups of colourful, round buildings, some of which were the schools. I don't pretend to know much about First Nations, but I believe that in council meetings typically the members are placed in a circle, so everyone is face to face and on equal footing. Each person has a time to speak, and everyone must listen.  It may take some time to get things down this way, but I think western leaders could learn something from this approach, and at this point, it might be our best hope for arriving at effective conservation strategies that have the necessary support of all stakeholders.  Listening, building, and strong local community action toward a better future.   

As we walked through the Reserve passed the very large Panee Memorial Agriplex, a mall, a community centre, mental health and family wellness services, and many other small businesses.  Many people were just heading in to work, and it was clear the community was working hard to heal and thrive.  Even so, we could see the centuries of damage done by systems designed to break First Nations culture and traditions in the scars, bruises, and facial tattoos of the people around us. I can't begin to understand how people who have experienced so much hatred and horror can so readily welcome two smelly, white hikers into their community, or find inspiration in what we are doing.  If the roles were reversed, I don't think I could be so generous or welcoming.  It was a very humbling experience to be in the company of a peoples who have such perseverance and strength.    

Eventually the gravel road took us back out to the paved highway, the transition marked by a cool looking bilingual stop sign.  A few minutes down the highway another Cree man stopped to ask what we were doing, to offer us a ride, and to offer to bring us water if we needed any.   Since leaving Wetaskiwin this morning we had been passed repeatedly be a steady procession of RCMP officers, Peace Officers, and Sheriffs, as well as First Nations Police.  As he was talking to us another Sheriff passed, and I think almost stopped to investigate.  Although we were the ones walking down the side of a highway, during the entire day we had the feeling that we were likely the safest people out there, simply because of the colour of our skin.  I hate that this is the case, and I wish there was more I could do to change the world we live in.  These people throughout this region were so generous and kind, we have no choice but to do right beyond them. 

About 6 km before we reached Ponoka, our destination for the night, we turned off the paved highway onto a curving gravel road. Lush green hay fields and pastures extended out in front of us, carefully divided up by wire fences.  A Song Sparrow perched on one of the posts, and we could hear the buzzy calls of Savannah and Clay-coloured Sparrows in the peaceful fields to either side.  A group of around 20 American White Pelican were clustered around a small pond, some perched on a tiny rocky island in the waters, others circling in small groups in the sky. 

As we continued down the winding road, the landscape became more varied. Small forested hills rose up in the distance, while a small river wound quietly and peacefully along in the contoured valley.  The strong, tangy, smell of Balsam Fir filled the air as we passed small farmsteads.  A pair of goats bleated vigorously at us from one farm, while a miniature pony stood by and quietly watched.  Small groups of horses and cows on other properties gathered along the road to watch us pass.  It was a lovely change of scenery. 

The river we were following along was the Battle River, which is a major tributary of the North Saskatchewan River.  It is 570 km long, and likely got its name in 1793 from Peter Fidler.  He mentioned the 'Battle or Fighting River' likely in reference to the conflict that was occurring between the Iron Confederacy (Cree and Assiniboine) and the Blackfoot Confederacy. 

Eventually we came to a large fertilizer plant, and then found ourselves at the beginning of the Wolf Creek Trail, which winds along beside Wolf Creek in a long urban park. A large pedestrian bridge arched high over the river, bright turquoise railings framing a wooden bed that was half steps and half ramp.  On the far side a paved cycling trail continued along, following the contours of the river.  Benches, garbage cans, and interpretive signage lined the pathway. 

One of the highlights along the pathway was finding the Thinking Tree.  The very large, sprawling, and impressive Manitoba Maple had been designated a heritage tree.  It's value was first recognized by Vance Walker, a former church minister who bought property along the Battle River. The tree became a spiritual retreat for Walker, and he used to climb into it to think, pray, and meditate.  He wanted to share this experience with others, and so the tree was incorporated into the park.  It was very impressive. 

As we walked into Ponoka along the waterway we noticed that the tall grass in the park was lying flat, and it looked like it had all been brushed in the same direction, away from the river bed.  The pathway was also covered in a fairly thick layer of fresh leaves and small twigs, and a lot of large trees had very recently fallen down.  When we looked this up later we discovered that a huge storm had brought very high winds, very large hail, and considerable flooding to Ponoka just two days ago!  We felt so lucky to have been safe and not in the path of this storm - a final gift for today! 

Ponoka, which means 'elk' in Blackfoot, is a community of around 7,000 people.  The land in the area has been stewarded by Cree Peoples for thousands of years, and the current town was established in 1891 as a stop along the Edmonton and Calgary Railway.  After making our way through the downtown, with its wide, treed main street, we came to the campground, which is beside a very large outdoor stadium.  This is where the Ponoka Stampede is held each year around the Canada Day long weekend.  This 7 day rodeo is part of the Canadian Professional Rodeo Association's professional tour.

Opposite the rodeo grounds was a large auction house, inside which we could hear cattle mooing.  A large sign outside declared Ponoka to be the "Cattle Capital of Canada." Many things in the town seem to be cattle, rodeo, stampede, or wild west themed.  About town there is a multiplicity of steak houses, men in large hats, and cowboy boots. There is little denying as a vegetarian I feel very much out of place here.   Alberta is home to about 40% of the Canada's cows, and with about 12.2 million head of cattle, it literally has more cows than people. 

So, today has been one of many gifts and several lessons, and it has left us with a lot to think about.  We faced our own fears, we have experienced kindness and generosity, and witnessed the strength of a peoples who are persevering despite the pressures of empires and history being set onto them.  Today is a day that we will not forget.

See you on the trail!

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