The Birth Place of B.C. : Mission Bridge to Fort Langley

When we set out this morning it was into another cold, overcast morning with temperatures hovering around the freezing mark, and a few stray snowflakes floating slowly to earth.  As we found our way back to the Trans Canada Trail we were surprised to have a Citizens on Patrol vehicle pull up alongside us.  And so it was, as the morning dawn began to fade that we soon found ourselves being politely but continuously grilled with questions.  What were we doing?  Where were we going?  How long did we intend to remain in the area?  What was our home address?  When would we be returning there?  What was your home address again?  What is this Trans Canada Trail you are talking about?  Where does it go?  Where did you say you lived again? 

As we sought to explain our trek the lady in charge was patient but despite our answers seemed insistent on listing the social services available in Abbotsford.  After a few moments – likely with the duo realizing that we were neither trouble nor planning to stay long – we were allowed to continue on.  As such, we thanked them and were carefully watched as we headed back onto the dykes.

For the first few kilometres of the Trans Canada Trail from Mission Bridge westward we were high up on the dyke, walking past beautiful pastures and picturesque barns.  We enjoyed seeing several horses grazing in the lush green fields.  Outside a few farms we spotted small flocks of sheep and chickens as well.

Although the scenery from the dyke was beautiful, the icy wind was strong enough to blow straight through our rain gear as we walked the exposed embankment, and we were somewhat relieved to divert down onto a parallel trail beside the river.  Sheltered behind the solid earth of the dyke, and by a colourful canopy of deciduous trees overhead, it was warmer.  By looking between the trees we also caught glimpses of the steely grey waters of the Fraser River and the heavily forested Matsqui Island.

A slight deviation around what we assume was a very busy and active water treatment plant brought us back to the open agricultural landscape, and then to a parking lot.  Even though we were still out in the countryside, we could feel the ever increasing approach of the city.  Train whistles sounded across the valley from a nearly constant stream of CP trains crossing the bridge behind us.  People were out jogging and walking on the dyke despite the wet, cold weather.  The parking lot for the trailhead was full, and beside the path a constant flow of cars, transports, and other vehicles made their way among the homes and small businesses along the trail.

Soon we found ourselves back on a forested footpath, looking at a notice warning that there was a bear in the area, and a sign indicating that we were entering Matsqui First Nations Reserve Land.  The first records of the Matsqui in this area date from around 9,000 years ago, and there is evidence of the current Salish culture from 5,000 years ago.  Following European contact, and the subsequent increase in tools and wealth generated from trading furs, there was a great increase in potlaches in Matsqui communities, during which family groups showed off and shared their wealth.  The small pox epidemic, reductions in the size of their main reserve to make way for the CPR line and later the BC Electric Railway greatly reduced their numbers.  Construction of the dyke to prevent seasonal flooding on the Sumas Prairie also changed their traditional way of life.  Many turned to farming, keeping cattle, sowing crops, and planting orchards, the remains of which can still be seen on their main reserve today.

For the next 3 km we walked through a beautiful, old forest as we crossed the Matsqui Main 2 Reserve. After ducking under the train tracks in a very small, low wooden tunnel, the gorgeous crushed stone dust trail crossed several small streams on wooden footbridges.  Huge, western red cedars towered above our heads, and the colourful yellow leaves of the big leaf maple carpeted the trail, many of them larger than placemats. Enthusiastic mounds of blackberry bushes bordered the trail in the more open sections where alders and elms grew, while prehistoric looking ferns and thick blankets of moss coated branches, fallen logs, and the forest floor in the darker, damper areas under the cedars.  The fresh earthy smell of wet forest filled the air, as well as the strong scent of cedar.

We were not alone on this gorgeous trail.  Several pairs of alpha women in spotless clothing and walking large designer dogs powered past us, deep in conversation and desperately striving to remain oblivious to our existence.  Other couples who were travelling at a slower pace stopped to chat and ask about our hike.  The trail took us out among gently rolling hills of frost covered grass, and we approached the parking lot for the pathway, it grew increasingly busy.

Shortly after crossing the gravel parking area the TCT ceased to be a pathway and soon diverted back onto a concession road.  The single lane paved drive dead-ended at the park, and only had a couple homes along it.  However, as we trekked in single file along its steep and narrow edge, a Khaki green pickup truck suddenly raced up behind us, jammed on his breaks and held down his horn for several minutes.  As the vehicle drove past us the driver rolled down his window and began screaming and swearing at us to keep walking and get away from his property.  After his tirade he gave us the finger and raced off.  As we stared at 15-20 km of roadway before entering into Fort Langley it felt like a rude 'welcome back' to the city, where everyone is in a hurry.

As we made our way out through the large country homes, ranches, and mansions – each with massive metal gates, dozens of security cameras, and barking dogs - we were surprised to see a highway of orange flagging tape cutting straight across the backs of the properties, all labelled Trans Mountain Pipeline.  A team of about fifteen surveyors in orange vests was making its way along the line, preparing to begin construction. It was a firm reminder of just how much power and wealth is generated by natural resources in this country - even citizens of wealthy neighbourhoods, with multi-million dollar estates seem to be powerless in diverting or stopping an oil pipeline.

For the next 2-3 hours we boxed north and west on paved county roads that were bordered by farmland, vineyards, horse pastures and tree farms.  Many of the luxurious looking homes in this stretch had laneways that were protected by large, ornamental metal gates attached to stone fence posts, and the deep landscaped properties were lined by tall hedges and protective fencing.  Guard dogs and security cameras provided additional security on many properties.  We were clearly in a wealthy rural community, where protection of material possessions had become a predominant concern.  In these areas we are typically viewed with suspicion, but today we were mostly just grateful for the wind breaks provided by their hedges and fences.

About half way through the morning we came to the tiny village of Mount Lehman, where the happy sounds of children greeted us from the schoolyard.  This community was founded in 1875 by Isaac Lehman, who together with his cousin Samuel pre-empted many acres of land in the area.  The small community of pioneers was established on an area of upraised land that lies between the flat plains of the Matsqui Prairie to the east and Glen Valley to the west.  It was appealing to settlers, because it was safe from the seasonal floods and accompanying hordes of mosquitoes, and it presented rich earth for farming.  As the village grew, Lehman's Landing was built on the Fraser River, and the wharf soon became a major stopping point for paddle-wheel stern boats travelling between Yale and New Westminster.  In 1910 a nearby stop on the new British Columbia Electric Railway, which linked Chilliwack and Vancouver was built, and passenger and freight service was provided twice daily, spurring further development.

As we followed the steep and winding road down out of Mount Lehman, we could see activity in the flooded fields down below.  When we got closer we realized that the cranberry harvest was underway.  This process involves flooding the dyke fields with water, letting the shiny red berries float to the surface, and then dragging a net across the water to herd the berries towards the end of the field, where they are vacuumed up and deposited by conveyor belt into large plastic bins on the back of a truck. This was the first cranberry harvest I'd seen, and I will now think of this area every holiday season.

We took a short break sitting on a couple of large boulders at the edge of a field, thankful that the skies had cleared up a little and the sun had brought some warmth.  When we continued westward across the flat fields again, we had gorgeous views of the snow covered mountains on either side of Glen Valley.

Squares of burgundy coloured cranberry bushes, red and green striped blueberry fields, and patches of rich dark earth contrasted with the green forested slopes and light blue mountains beyond. In the foreground, picturesque red and white barns and silos dotted the fields.  As we made our way through the festive feeling landscape a brightly coloured Red-tailed Hawk sent its iconic scream through the bright blue sky above.  Across the river, the sounds of shooting could be heard from a rod and gun club.

Eventually we arrived back at a dyke trail that followed the banks of Nathan Creek, which was named after an early settler in the area. The creek originally flowed several hundred meters east of its current dyked channel, but it was rerouted in the early 1900's to assist pioneering farmers.  Coho, pink, chum, and steelhead salmon, as well as rainbow and cutthroat trout have been known to use the creek as spawning habitat.

Several Mallards and a small group of Common Mergansers were floating on the smooth surface of the channel, which looked like a ribbon of light in the late afternoon sunshine.

A bank of information kiosks sat at the end of the dyke, where it met a busy paved road that ran parallel to the Fraser River.  One of them explained that the area was originally inhabited by the Kwantlen First Nation, who used the river as a trade and transportation route.  When the valley was settled by Europeans, agriculture became the main industry, but the forested slopes just to the south supported several active sawmills in the Bradner area.

From the end of the dyke trail we followed a busy, winding, two-lane paved road in to Fort Langley.  The railway tracks ran between the road and the Fraser River, and several long freight trains passed us as we trekked along in the late afternoon.  We walked by a large lumber mill, the smell of fresh cedar and pine filling the chilly air.  As we rounded Bluff Park steep forested slopes rose up beside us, and then we found ourselves walking along beside the airport, which was wedged between the river the road.

Finally we spotted the wooden walls and lookout towers of the Fort Langley National Historic Site perched on the hill a few meters above us.  We made our way along the road below the walls until we came to a treed parking lot and the Visitor's Centre at the entrance to the historic site.  Fort Langley was originally built as a fur trading post by the Hudson's Bay Company in 1827, around 4 km northwest of its current location.  It was moved in 1839, burned down the following year, and was rebuilt in 1840.

Originally Fort Langley was used as a fur trading post, but as supplies dwindled, it's role shifted to supply.  It operated a large farm and orchard, it established the west coast salmon packing industry, and it exported produce to ports in Alaska, Hawaii, and other areas of the Pacific.  It also formed the end of the all-British route from the Coast to the Interior of British Columbia.

Fort Langley was strategically located on the south side of the Fraser River in order to secure British dominance in the region.  At the time, surveyors were establishing the US-Canada border, mostly following the 49th parallel.  The HBC advocated that the border follow the Columbia River in this area (now the border between Oregon and Washington State), but they knew that if it didn't, Fort Vancouver would fall to the Americans.  Hence, Fort Langley was built to ensure British presence south of the Fraser River.

It became an ideal location for trading furs, fish, and produce.  However, when gold was discovered on the Fraser River in 1858, Fort Langley was transformed from a modest but successful trading post into the center of the gold rush, with around 30,000 miners descending on it.  Fearful that the Americans would attempt to annex the resource rich area, the British government, or at least its representatives in the West, decided to act. On November 19th,1858 the newly sworn in Governor James Douglas proclaimed the Colony of British Columbia.  As a result, Fort Langley has become known as the 'Birthplace of British Columbia.'  In 1866, just 8 years later, the Colony of British Columbia was established and merged with the Colony of Vancouver Island, and in 1871 British Columbia became a province of the Dominion of Canada.

After very briefly exploring the National Historic Site we continued into the small town of Fort Langley.  Its main street was lined with vintage shops, galleries, breweries, eateries, and very happily a wonderful looking and smelling bakery. We were surprised to see that the trees which lined the thoroughfare were still covered in bright fall foliage, adding a touch of romance to the historic feeling atmosphere.

As I sat at a table on the sidewalk while Sean went into the bakery for refreshments, I enjoyed a long and interesting chat with a local man who flew planes and helicopters for a hobby, used to run an auto reclamation business in the area, and had walked up and down Grouse Mountain more than 150 times, sometimes doing the circuit several times a day.  He had studied metaphysics, and had a very interesting perspective on mindfulness, and the benefits of walking to improve concentration.  We really enjoyed talking with him.

Sitting on the sidewalk outside of Blacksmith Bakery, eating two of the best cherry and dark chocolate filled croissants I've ever tasted, was an excellent way to end another day on the Trans Canada Trail.  It was made even better when we learned that we weren't the first thru-hikers to stop here - Bonnie Thornbury, who has ventured from BC to Ontario and across Newfoundland, also shares fond memories of this place!  As such it is clear that Fort Langley continues to remain a crossroads of Canadian history and explorers from its inception to the present.

 

See you on the trail!

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