Day 1: GOING FOR A LITTLE WALK

On June 2nd we arrive at Fairy Creek HQ around 8:30AM. From there we were driven to another location for a hike that would be one of the hardest physical tasks I’ve ever done, with camera gear and every ounce of unnecessary weight.

Cars are being towed by Teal Jones Logging Company at an egregious cost – thousands of dollars per car. A financial ploy. The suggestion to those planning on trekking to any overnight camp is to hide your keys in your car. I opted for a drop off from my supportive partner.

That morning RCMP had used truck route T11 to access Waterfall with 8 Teal Jones trucks in tow. 9 people were arrested in total including 2 legal observers, and 2 youth. Media exclusion zones were pushed back to a no view of arrests.

Thanks to the femmes at HQ, She(Bites) was invited to Ridge Camp. The official invitation came from the one they call BushPig. BushPig is a bad ass Indigenous Woman, who built the very first blockades back in August before the injunction, the flagship being Cookie Camp (cookie because of the slab of old growth cut that was used in the blockade). Since, there have been dozens more blockade camps setup including HQ, Heli, Ridge, Cookie, Waterfall, Hayhaka(formerly Braden Gate at the bottom of Waterfall), Caycuse and other continuous pop up Camps. 

Ridge Camp is in the thick of where 50 hectars of Old Growth lives including +1000 year old yellow cedar trees. With the help of John Horgan and what Elder Bill Jones calls “fake chiefs”, Teal Jones plans to cut it all down. It is a very difficult place to get to, and absolutely beautiful.

The logging road up to our drop off place was made up of large dusty grey boulders. It was a bumpy ride and you would often hear the truck bottom out as the thing was carrying weight. We now have a view of the Fairy Creek watershed; an expansive temperate rainforest with massive scars. The sight immediately makes you feel emotional and devastated. The logging has taken place everywhere. The cuts are everywhere. Huge, widespread sections of Old Growth trees have been ripped off this mountain range on every quadrant. And more just to make room to remove them. What were once important flowing water streams now looked like broken leaky faucets trickling thru the dry, hot rock and dead ancient tree debris. The view is devastating.

We collect our gear and are given directions on how to get to destination Ridge. I was told it was a serious hike, but I was not aware of how difficult it would turn out to be. 

Hardest hike of my life. Didn’t think I’d make it. Gear so fucking heavy. The path involved a lot of hands and feet incline crawls that took your breathe away in the first few steps. I seriously considered turning back and that internal conversation was a difficult and embarrassing one. I thought about the Women who had arranged this rare opportunity, and knew I had to honor and service the access they were offering us. 

The hike took nearly 3 hours and if one of the “turtles” had not taken all my camera gear I don’t think I would have made it. I felt supported and safe. It was a grouse grind times three – we went up and down at least three steep as fuck mountain ridges. Holding onto roots and helpful tree branches along the way. Snow at certain northern points and dips. I coined the term “white knuckled toes” after I removed my boots that night.

As I got used to the hard terrain I was able to take in more surroundings. We were walking thru a sea of giant, +1000 year old yellow cedar trees. Close together, an army, varying characters up and down the ridges. Closer to camp on the Ridge, the trees became absobantly huge. One they named Titania — a 1,800 year old Mama. I suddenly realized this is what’s on the chopping block — all of these long standing individuals; Elders, Matriarchs and Ancestors of the Indigenous People.

“who are you?!.. and what have you brought!”

Camp is made up of a few very dedicated individuals who have lived in the trees for most of the last 10 months, led by BushPig who I first met by shouting up at her in her tree, “Are you BushPig?!” trying to make it not sound rude but having a hard time spitting it out.

BushPig’s head pops out over the tarp platform high in the tree above, “Yep! Who are you?” a ground crew member adds, “and what have you brought!” a little eruption of laughter. The vibe is organized and witty. We make introductions, BushPig knew to expect me. She repells down from her perch and starts removing her tethers. Her arms exposed and strong. Eyes are wide and welcoming. Her stature long and fit with light brown and white hair in a whispy high bun. She is wearing a sick jean vest with a beaded red dress pin and buttons that say “I love Bill Jones”. Leopard tights under her shorts which have a hole on the top left thigh. She looks like a fucking bad ass.

Everyone had a code name except for me, it was probably a 3:1 ratio of men to women/femmes as well as one trans person that I knew of. Camp projects were in constant motion around us – from kitchens to craft benches to what are known as “Loraxes”, “Sleeping Dragons” and other such mischievous contraptions that are meant to block and slow down industry.

This squad looks equally hyped and tired. All say the same thing; they are genuinely having a fun time. I could see in their eyes that they were and it was invigorating. They put a boat (yes, a full on row boat) in a tree for a sitter who regularly moons RCMP helicopters when they fly by. Their only water source is a short hard trek to a small dwindling stream 15 minutes away they call “ass water” because at one point they used it as a sit and douche. They joke about the easiest way down being arrest.

They also keep each other’s spirits up by bringing attention back to the trees, while BushPig keeps all in check on Indigenous knowledge and leadership. Messages and reminders would come thru from Indigenous leadership from HQ. There was something special about the humor in their actions tho and how they themselves saw this entire ordeal that it makes one think the cops have nothing on them. They have more will and wit. And Indigenous Women leadership. I was given a walkie talkie for important comms and off I went to my tent for the evening.

Day 2: SKIN CAMO BUSH PIG & THE CHOPPERS (great band name?!)

8:00 AM. I unzipped the doors of my tent which I pitched at the base of a large yellow cedar on the Ridge near Titania about a 5 minute walk from the main camp. It was incredible.

I felt overwhelmingly grateful to be sleeping under this giant among a mountainous stadium of other giants; all of who’s lives are at stake. That’s what it felt like. Not camping but being invited to a spectacular home of so many long standing trees and creatures; which is in imminent danger.

I charged my phone, made earl grey, wrote down notes, took photos, and sat with the trees in total silence. Listening, thanking them for letting me in, promising to do my best with the time I had there.

At around 9:15AM BushPig fills us in on what was happening down at Waterfall along with with a photographer who had just hiked up from there.

17 cop cars came to enforce Waterfall. 6 Defenders linked arms, as logger trucks destroyed barricades at Hayhaka in front of a group of Women and children. The RCMP shockingly sent a youth to hospital after cutting down a tripod leg, which collapsed with the youth in it. We’re not sure if anyone has that footage.

The plan now was to do a short interview with BushPig in front of Titania with a fellow Woman videojournalist named Alex, then head down a logged slope to scope a viewpoint of Waterfall.

Throughout the day she shares that she has two older teenagers at home that she misses. That she sold her food truck business to be here. That she had reoccuring cancer and her last surgery was one week before she sold everything and went to lead the front line. That she needs to take a shit whenever she hears a helicopter. Similar to a pre-gamer, for those athletes, or former, out there who know what I mean. RCMP and loggers target her and ask for her by name; the RCMP show up at her house whenever she goes for short visits. Loggers have called her a “stinky twat hog” and other forest defenders Women “bushtits”. She frustratingly states that Women and particularly Indigenous Women face harsher harassment from loggers than the men, because compartively men are seen more as equals.

“Loggers have called me “stinky twat hog” and other women “bush tits”. we are targeted for being women.”

When we’re done at Titania we head down a raw logged ridge face that leads to a logging road about 500 meters down. The road goes down to Waterfall or up to a Woman tree sitter, Meesh(who has since left), and beyond Cookie then Ridge. The downhill trek was dry and hot and you could smell heated up wood and pine. Almost like we were walking in the summer hills of Greece which is near the fucking equator. A drastic contrast to the lush temperate rainforest we just walked out of.

BushPig is explaining to me how these Old Growth logged areas plug and congest the waterways which effect the fish runs, how the landscape continues to get dryer and hotter, how the eco system is suffering. How when she was taken on a 4 hour tour by Teal Jones the rep told her they needed to be there to “maintain” the Old Growth after all the devastating Old Growth logging they’ve done, and how he sympathizes with the displaced crane birds of the area. “I thought he was fucking with me.” She says.

In the middle of this descent and conversation we hear a helicopter taking off. We don’t move. BushPig says it sounded like they took off somewhere nearby. They were somewhere in the valley coming up towards us. BushPig books it under two larger fallen stumps, and is taking all her clothes off as camouflage. She doesn’t want them knowing her exact location. The helicopter is on it’s way up, facing us. I am completely obviously there, slightly leaning on my hip and continuously recording off my phone since my long lens was in my bag and didn’t have time to take it out.

Once out of viewshot we start booking it down the face and onto the gravel rock logging road. Once down there we can see cop cars parked along Hayhaka and cop gates. BushPig continues to explain the pillaged valleys and that loggers replaced Old Growth with “genetically modified trees – a colonial plantation”.

As we walk up to Meesh the RCMP chopper comes around again this time from behind. Intense. I keep recording BushPig. We keep doing what we’re doing – me recording BushPig, BushPig ignoring the RCMP helicopter. The helicopter is now directly overhead, clearly able to identify BushPig in a cheery yellow dress and tights, and myself. Somehow we both can’t stop smiling. Genuine selfie footage.  Chopper goes south east. I ask BushPig if she needs to shit. We both laugh. But really this is traumatizing. “I have no doubts that I’ll have PTSD from this whole experience.” She makes a significant comment afterwards that rang in my head like a bell, “This is about violence against the Land, AND violence against Women. They are the same thing — completely connected.”

“This is about violence against the land, and violence against women. they are the same thing — completely connected.”

We hangout with Meesh and two other Women who came down to bring warm food and snacks up for her. BushPig goes to bathe herself in a frog bog. I talk with Meesh, she just got there the day before happy to be there with unreal views. A very open Woman who doesn’t seem afraid at all. Her curiously multi tethered platform is high up on a huge pointy ended east facing tree. She hangs her feet over the ledge as she eats her warm food smiling for photos.

This is where BushPig says, “This is entirely a Woman led operation. And it works. The men serve us.”
“So it’s a great template to use?” I ask, “Exactly.”

The day finished with an east coast former logger throwing it down on a banjo, and strong winds that gave everyone on the Ridge a short, chilly sleep that night. 

Day 3: EARLY FOG HORN

6AM fog horn goes off by BushPig. Game on. I sit up immediately. I run up to main camp with just my camera in case it was getting raided then and there. BushPig informs me that Waterfall got raided early morning which is a bit of a new tactic. One RCMP in plain clothing sat by their fire and said, “Hi.”, while another went into someone’s tent and covered their mouth as they were screaming. They were showing up in plain clothes and backpack gear to blend in. Then they yelled that everyone had “30 seconds to leave!”. They filled a few dragons with cement foam, but not all. Some complied and some scattered up the ridge. 5 arrests we’re made at Hayhaka; all Women, 2 chained to cars and one chained to a van. Information came in that either loggers, or loggers and RCMP we’re going to be coming up the road towards Meesh in half an hour.

I ran up to where the boat sitter was and saw an RCMP helicopter come right up to us, you could see it was packed with white men. The 3 or 4 in the back wearing all black. 2 in the front with one pointing a massive binocular our way. They were so close it seemed like they were about to land somewhere nearby. Boat sitter has his buns out at this point. They leave and come around one more time. I’m battery low so run back to camp.

BushPig and I debriefed. I’m staying with her as I was the only media there and Loraxes and tree sitters were within lens view. The cops would need to get thru Meesh and Cookie Camp before making their way up here. Unless of course they repelled from a chopper. We may have some time.

I run down to my tent and pack my shit as quickly as possible. I put my wallet, phone, batts in my fanny pack. I’ve put my waterproof jacket on. My long lens is on and my other lens is on my hip with hoods on. My gopro in a secret spot. I’m pre planning where I could hide my memory card if the cops threaten to take my camera. Overall feeling calm; they’ll likely tell me to leave, I tell them no because I’m media not a participant and these exclusion zones have been deemed impermissible by the CCRC, they threaten arrest, I say fine I’m leaving while capturing the entirety. OR they arrest everyone including media and I capture as much as I can, very likely released at the bottom. I’m looking for the best spot I can be in to capture the scene.

More waiting. People have put their chains on and are near their designated spots, prepared. Two Women invite me to take some shots – I’m elated because this is the first time they gave me consent to take photos of their faces. I take some sick shots of the couple chained to eachother, next to their Lorax, looking down the valley in the mist, sharing a few tokes, smiling, defiant. They look like they know exactly what they’re doing. I couldn’t help but feel proud of them.

As we continue waiting on RCMP and logger movements their radios crackle breaking news, “1,000 people are coming up to Waterfall to support you.” They look in disbelief. Everyone starts cheering and hugging. Some teared up and they all hollered – it was a special moment of release; they were running off adrenaline all morning in preparation for a raid.

Word comes in that the RCMP and loggers have now unexpectedly left. Just like that out of the blue. BushPig is weary of this intel. But roughly 20 minutes later, about 25 new people showed up from all directions to reinforce.

It seems the RCMP retreated. Waterfall was being rebuilt in that very moment. I stood there in awe of the game changer that had just occurred in such short time. The pace slowed down. It was probably about 10AM at this point. Ridge is now getting stronger than ever with reinforcements and supplies. 

The large group was being organized and split into smaller detached groups, and one was for the way down to civilization. I thought to myself that this was my window to slip out. I likely have a few more days before they try again so I decide to come back mid week when numbers are low and threats are close. With half the baggage.

I yell up to BushPig my plan and how deeply thankful I am for her invite. That I look forward to returning. She thanks me back for making it out, says she looks forward to seeing me again soon, we exchange mutual admiration and part ways.

I am now quickly preparing for the trek back home. The only way out is thru, I thought to myself. I’m taking layers off and leaving as much behind as possible. Not even 5 minutes into the hike, and BanjoLou offers to take my entire bag. I say no way. He insists. “You should be free and unobstructed” He says. Another man watching this interaction was so moved by the gesture that he actually cries. This is who these people are. What the government would call terrorists – another laughable.

You’d think I’d be able to take on the hills with no pack on but no. To boot the last few days of adrenaline, steep climbs to get anywhere, cold damp sleep and minimal eats forced me to dig deep again on the inclines. It was definitely a lighter haul tho, and at least I wasn’t holding anyone up. My bag would be waiting for me at the next camp.

As the crowd went ahead with vigor for new records, things got quiet and I started to integrate with the forest once again. The sun now beaming thru these yellow cedar Old Growth giants as the fog dissipates off the tilted landscape. These trees are huge, tall, visibly paler than red cedars, shooting up straight to the sky with gnarly muscles, roots like octopus tentacles on rocks and they are intriguingly close to eachother. This became one of the most enjoyable walks of my life. 

I eventually ran into the couple who I took photos of earlier. We had hiked in together. Their vibe was calming and comforting and we all enjoyed a leisurely but fun pace. They also happened to know a well flagged shortcut. Score. It took about 20-30 minutes off the route. We passed the time by making up a few song lyrics and reflecting on most effective, safe and self sufficient practices at camp; which was a conversation I appreciated. 

“When you’re up you’re up,
And when you’re down you’re down,
And when you’re only half way there,
Go the fuck around.”

Much later down at HQ media camp, I turned my wifi on. Everlasting dings. I hadn’t had reception this entire time. My partner had not heard from me the last 3 days, and him and my brother we’re keeping each other updated on the Fairy Creek front knowing I would be deep in it. 

I was invited to have some chef made food from the kitchen like off a plate, and I nearly buckled at the knees – the hot pasta, thin cheese, fresh greens and tangy dressing was everything in the moment all I could do was look up and keep myself from making too much noise.

There have been 193 arrests made so far. On June 8th, 7 arrests were made at Hayhaka including a woman who requested a female officer due to the chains attached to her groin. RCMP denied her request. RCMP are now using more aggressive machinery such as excavators for sleeping dragons. After arrests RCMP bulldozed the camp. For now Hayhaka is down with machines on their way to the blockades at Waterfall Camp; which is still standing.

Thank you to BushPig and other the front line Indigenous Women for offering us the invitation to their Land and access to their stories. Thank You Elder Bill Jones.

#IndigenousWomen #IndigenousLand #IndigenousSovereignty #FrontLines #FrontLineIndigenousWomen #MMIWG #SaveFairyCreek #FairyCreekBlockade #OldGrowth #SaveOldGrowth #Watershed