I’d love to be able to write about my incredible plan to see the salmon spawning while visiting British Columbia. I wish I could tell you about the carefully crafted trip which my whole vision was focused on. But instead, these pictures are the lucky product of a lonely, cold, and exhausted night in BC. After an insane drive across the country, I ended up at a campground (one of the only campgrounds I have stayed at in the car.) It was cold and rainy, and I was wet and tired. After the long journey, difficulty with the limited space, and feeling like a crazy person for thinking it’s a good idea to build a camper car with 24 vertical inches of sleep room, I was feeling low. As I pulled into damp dirt area, the rain poured down, and I took a deep breath because I knew I was going to have to get outside to move stuff around so I could sleep. After a thorough soaking in the cold rain, I had rearranged my bags which allowed me some room to lay down. Then, I crawled into the back to try and sleep.
As I wormed my way into the small space between the ceiling of the 4runner and the foam pad, I was shivering, lonely, and feeling sorry for myself. To try and change the mood, I knew I could hear water somewhere, and I love seeing beautiful streams. So, I made a promise to myself to at least go find that river and enjoy a view tomorrow. With that thought, I shivered off to sleep, dreaming of less rain in the morning.
I awoke to a constant rain, but at least I was warm…ish. Starting the morning off right, I turned the car on and treated myself to a heater while ensconced in the sleeping bag. After the car warmed up, I put on all my driest clothes, gortex shells, and headed off to find the river. A short walk down the road, and I found it (I hope you weren’t expecting a hike). Much to my amazement, there were huge fish in the water. I thought, “Those are the biggest trout I have EVER seen! No, wait, they’re freakin’ salmon!” Armed with this new realization, I raced back to Ethel to get my camera to shoot some photos.
This was no small event. You see, as a little boy, Thursday nights, and every other weekend was spent at my father’s place. (You kids of divorced parents know what’s up)
Above my single bed was a shelf filled with books and several of those books were all about the water’s creatures. In the pages, were photos of clear rivers filled with the shimmering red bodies of salmon making their way upstream to spawn, making their way to the original spot they once came from as well! I was obsessed with these photos, and so badly wanted to see it someday. I don’t know why, but I didn’t ever think I’d get the chance to do so. And tragically, through the years, I’d lost access to the wonderful yearning to experience this part of nature. The epic salmon spawn has been taking place every year for longer than our bipedal ancestors have been gazing upon the waters and shouting, “Those are the biggest trout I have EVER seen. No, wait, they’re freakin’ salmon!” At least that’s what I imagine them saying. Seems like what smart bipeds say when confronted with salmon, don’t you think?
Once reconnected with this previously forgotten memory, it was a full on, 5 out of 5 emergency to photograph and to see this event! In this small waterway, the fish were leaping upstream, bravely fighting the current, going over rocks, and logs, and then resting in the shelter of bounders out of the exhausting current before making a push further upstream. As I shot with my 600mm lens and reviewed the photos, I could see the damage to the fish. Their skin coming apart, fins torn up, and deep scratches across their bodies. Some of them looked like zombies.
You see, this is a one-way trip for the salmon. They swim up the same river where they came from, they do the business of salmon spawning, and then they die. Despite knowing all of this, seeing the effort, and destruction of self was somewhat heartbreaking while being inspiring.
The whole scene was pretty surreal. Beautiful sky slowly clearing above, trees raining down leaves onto the water, the ending of old life, just trailing the start of new life. I shot for a few hours. Sometimes shivering at the water’s edge, waiting for the moment to capture the chaotic scene below the water while showing the serenity above it.
As I drove away, I wished the salmon well, and thought about how amazing their life cycle is. I thought about how some large corporations such as open water fish farms are stealing away the resources from citizens like you and me. Their pollution and disease have a detrimental effect on the wild salmon which hurts the salmon run every year. I hope the government and citizens can stand up against this theft from our resources. I for one really enjoy fishing for and catching salmon. Frankly, it seems like a pile of bullshit that it’s ok for large corporations to pollute the waters, and damn the rivers and demolish the salmon population for generations to come, when all you and I want to do is take one home for dinner.
If you are in a salmon run area, I would recommend going to experience it. There is no hiking or craziness required. Just a quick internet search and tell you when and where. You’ll be amazed at the scene and come away with a new perspective.
