Aug 24th, 2014. Field Research at Clayoquot Sound

I spent the month of August at Clayoquot Sound, on the outer west coast of Vancouver Island, working to collect the data for my masters thesis. My research team were all local First Nations. It consisted of an official Guardian of the Tla-o-qui-aht Tribal Park system, Cory Charlie; Hesquiaht youth Aquila Charleson; and a master carver of the Tla-o-qui-aht First Nation Joe Martin. Our mission was to locate targeted forest stands and measure the structure of the forest, so that we can analyze the data and estimate the capacity of these forests to provide multiple ecosystem services. The study sites were in two different ecosystems (a riparian forest and a montane forest) and of two different ages: old-growth (many hundreds years old) and second-growth (30-35 years old).

This shows one of our study sites, old-growth on the left, second-growth on the right. Inside each plot we measure the trees, understory plants and non-timber forest products. The red lines represent transects, along which we measured fallen logs. 

It was a fascinating experience and lifestyle. It felt very mission oriented, much like climbing a mountain or planning a wilderness backpacking route. We first had to locate our field sites, either up on a mountain or in the depths of Pacific Rim National Park. Then, we spent the day measuring the forest from the thick ground moss to the towering trees. We encountered western red-cedar trees over 2.5m thick and Sitka spruce standing 70m tall.

Getting to the targeted study sites was often a challenging task. Our access routes were never long but many sites required bush-whacking through entangled understory and a labyrinth of wind-fall. A stiff Ericaceous shrub, Gaultheria shallon, known commonly as salal, dominates the forest understory in these coastal forests. It grows above our heads, surrounding us, impeding us as we scrambled forward under full effort. There are sections of forest littered with hundreds of windfall logs and the only way to traverse through is by walking along them. The larger of the logs may be 2m thick thick and 30 m long. Sometimes they are covered in a profusion of shrubby plants and young trees that use the logs as substrate for their growth. Other times, they are dead clear and we stroll over them with ease. At some sites nearly every tree grows from the 'nurse log' left when another tree has died and fallen over. We collected data on the interactions occurring among ecosystem services, such as when a young tree grows from the carbon storehouse of a large fallen log.

Working with the local First Nations provided contributed to the insight I gained, and their skills and local knowledge proved pivotal for our success. The cedar carver, Joe Martin, has more experience in the bush than nearly anyone I know. His role was as a guide, a field technician and, most important, as a master caver who knew the traditional use of western-red-cedar trees. Joe inspected each red-cedar we encountered to determine if the tree might be used to carve a traditional canoe, a totem pole, house beams, or used for cedar bark stripping.

A film maker joined us for three days to make a short film that explains this research project and elucidate the cultural importance of western red-cedar for coastal First Nations communities. We were fortunate to have Mark Wyatt of Wyatt Visuals who has worked on film projects with First Nations at Clayoquot Sound in the past. For example, see this five minute film Restoring the Atleo, which provides vivid insight into the importance of forests for wild salmon at Clayoquot Sound.

Mark Wyatt takes a break after trekking heavy camera gear through an ancient cedar forest.

The work was challenging and exhausting but we managed well, and accomplished the mission in 12 days, 2 days longer than planned. I came home with my data. It was an immersive and rewarding experience and I feel great fortune to work alongside Joe, Cory and Aquila, who all provided local expertise, worked hard to get the tasks done, and became great friends in the process.

I'd like to acknowledge the contributions of everyone directly involved including my academic supervisors Dr. Sarah Gergel and Dr. Elena Bennett. I specifically thank our partner the Central Westcoast Forest Society for linking us with Cory and Aquila and supporting us throughout. I thank the Imajo Cedar Management Fund for funding the integration of Joe's local knowledge into our work and for funding the science communication film being produced by Wyatt Visuals. I am also grateful to the Tla-o-qui-aht Cheif and Council for consenting that we do our work in their traditional territories. Lastly, a big thanks to Parks Canada for granting a research permit within pristine areas of the Pacific Rim National Park.

June 9th 2014. Backroad cycling north of Montreal.

Day 2: Arrival to Mont Tremblant, Quebec via a beautiful, traffic-free bike path. June 2014

A few weeks ago I explored the Laurentian hills by bike just north west of Montreal. As I've stated before and as the cycling world knows, Quebec is an extraordinary place for bicycle touring (National Geographic magazine rated it best in the world in 2007). Between a bike trip I did last summer and a longer one in 2006 I've covered some 1600km of La Belle Province, by bike, yet still barely scratched its surface.

This trip started as Thais and I caught a train from Montreal to the last stop at Saint Jerome where the tracks end. From there the historic trail bed is now converted to Le Route Verte cycling path. Flat. Well maintained gravel path and its riddled with gorgeous camping spots where few people pass. Its a sort of bike touring heaven if you like camping for free and riding with no traffic.

On day two we pass small towns and wind deeper into forested countryside. A steep canyon gurgles with rapids below and lush forest overhangs the path. Heavy rain had passed earlier in the day and clouds of mist anchor themselves along the hills that grew taller, more lush, secretive and alive as we cycle. The constraints of city life are filtered from memory as we enter deeper into the nature. The first wave of inspiration hits me at the canyon. The second wave at an old white pine. And finally, yes indeed, the landscape view strikes me just right and the beauty of the eastern temperate forests is suddenly felt inside.

The next three days are continuously sublime. We ride into Mont Tremblant, which consists of a town, a village and a resort, which is set at the base of the 968m mountain of the same name. We leave there heading southbound to follow the Riviere Rouge road, which takes us further off the beaten path along a gravel road in a relatively unpopulated area. It winds into a tranquill valley, past a Buddhist Monastery, traverses shambled barns and we roll on. A long tiring day of 135km distance, mostly on gravel, ends at sunset with cold caesars purchased from a dusty deppaneur with nearly empty shelves. This is Thais's first bike touring trip ever and she managed the 135 km well. I love to witness a person's maiden bike touring trip. Every single person I've seen begin bike touring, never stops. They become enlightened; all roads connect - you can go anywhere and its basically free.

Backroad bike touring down the Riviere Rouge, Quebec. June 2014.

Day three is spent white water rafting on the Riviere Rouge. We flip the boat, get sucked under water, spit out and swim to shore. Our last day is a splendid ride, 100km on rolling backroads back to where the train tracks begin and the train is there waiting for us. In a few hours more were home. The trip was a classic three and half day escape from a busy city. The 300km distance we cycled was rich in discovery, very affordable, healthy and basically carbon neutral. The gasoline-free aspect of this form of transportation a major motivation for me to do it, but it also carries additional rewards. The highlight for me on this trip, was to finally see the eastern forest in a way that allowed me to discover its sense. Its spirit. Every forest is unique and it takes some time and lots of interaction to get to know them.

Autumn colours at Lac Poisson Blanc, Quebec. Oct 2013