Every year around this time, thousands of Canadians begin something of a mass migration from Eastern Canada to Western Canada. They drive, fly, bike, and hitchhike their way to Beautiful British Columbia (Copyright) for one sole purpose – to plant trees.
Yes, the time has come for money hungry people of 18 years and older to point their camper vans/trailers/Tacomas towards the setting sun and dream of juicy pay checks to pay off their camper vans/trailers/Tacomas. I can confidently say this because I am one of those migratory planters – or at least I was when I first started. Five years ago I hopped on a plane and flew to the great northern gateway city AKA Prince George. I sat down beside another person who I found out was also a planter and struggled to ask the basic question: “Am I making a horrible mistake?”
John planting trees (Andrew Hynes)
But this story isn’t about me. It’s about the thousands of other planters who are currently in the process of getting from point A to point B in a truly different financial climat. An increase of roughly 40 per cent in gas prices since last March offers difficult hurdles to the money-strapped planters. For a lot of planters, this is being overcome by ride sharing, hitchhiking or taking detours through the United States, where gas prices are still somewhat affordable.
Take the story of Jonathan and Lauryn, two planters who are currently driving through the States from Ontario to get to Prince George by May 3rd. It’s their second year planting and they’ve decided to drive out this year for two reasons: the practicality and the experience. Practical because driving lets them bring everything they want that an airline might not let them fly with or would charge an arm and a leg for, like the inflatable mattress they’ll be sleeping on or the cooler for all their day-off beverages. They also get the bonus of a worry free trip through the northern states like Montana, North Dakota, and Minnesota, etc.
On paper this seems like the right move, getting to have your cake and eat it too…but very rarely does a planting migration go according to plan. In the case of Jonathan and Lauryn, it was a simple money problem. One day while in Montana they went to pay for some snacks and instead of the happy-go-lucky APPROVED message they received the saddy-go-troublesome DECLINED one. They tried a different card – DECLINED. And another one – same message. All their debit cards weren’t working and all their credit cards were maxed out. The idea of being stranded in rural Montana did not sit well with them so they b-lined it to the Canadian border, the land of debit APPROVED.
Tap away (CafeCredit / Flickr)
Another common snafu of the great planter migration is car problems. They either break down or limp by for a bit until they break down forever. The story of my friend Billy is a cautionary one. He was driving from Vancouver to Prince George and thought it would be nice to take the scenic sea to sky highway and he’s not wrong – that route is a stunning one…it’s also incredibly hilly. Lots of ups and downs. Big ones. Google Maps shows that this road has elevation gains of 5700 metres. Which can be strenuous on any car, let alone an old Honda Odyssey that has transmission issues. Billy, god bless his soul, drove this route not being able to change into third gear and cruised along at a breezy 40km per hour.
However hellish you might think that experience must have been, I consider Billy one of the lucky ones because he got to where he wanted to go in his own van. Other unfortunate planters do not. At least not with the vehicle they started the journey with. Many planters are forced to jump ship, so to speak, leave behind their van/car/truck and watch it be towed away – never to be seen again. Friends of mine have been stranded in remote parts of the country and are forced to post a SOS to whatever tree planting Facebook Group they’re part of, desperately commenting on any post that says they’re driving across Canada. The beautiful part of this journey is that not many planters fall through the cracks. There is always another planter there willing to scoop them up or at the very least point them in the right direction (e.g. a friend of a friend of mine’s uncle’s ex wife has a place you can stay at until you figure out what to do), because at the end of the day it is wonderfully connected community that has a wonderful ability to empathise with whatever shit has hit the fan.
Classic Jeeps, ammirite? (Dagny Gromer / Flickr)
That being said, a journey is not a journey without an ending point, and for most planters that point is when they reach Prince George (aka PG, pronounced Pee Gee or Peeg). The city is located in a bowl of sorts, and as you begin to descend into said bowl two distinct feelings hit you. At first, there’s an immense feeling of relief – you’ve made it, the journey is over, time to find a cheap motel and unite with friends old and new. The other feeling comes immediately after – the feeling of dread. “Why am I doing this again” is usually one of the first thoughts that pops into your mind. These two feelings are in a tug-o-war of sorts and will be for the first month of the tree planting season, but I have good news: this is all part of the experience.
So, if you’re on the road this month and happen to bump into a car full of planters, please celebrate with them. Have a drink with them, or buy them a pack of cigarettes, or just give them a big ol’ smile and an encouraging thumbs up. They’ve made it this far and still have a whole other emotional journey to begin, but for now, we celebrate.