Even time-sculpted sands scarred by the selfish
Opinion
An escape from the harshness of the world to a homestead near Cypress River two weeks ago, to a night in a loose-gapped pop-up geriatric tent trailer with all of the outside seeping in liquid through seams, the sounds of the night birds peeping and whistling on the wind, a thunderstorm passing and a pack of coyotes passing, too, yodelling and yipping as they travelled down the road. A few minutes of magic, that short coyote transit, canine conversation distinct and so carefully shaped while half-sleeping that you could hold it in your hand like a ball.
It was after lawn chairs and fire tankers rolling down the road to nearby wildland fires, after hot dogs and chips and potato salad and children finally asleep, after sloughing off worries and tamping down fears, sliding into that period where you talk among friends and family without even having to talk.
Best of times.
RUSSELL WANGERSKY / FREE PRESS
A dune at the Spirit Sands in Spruce Woods Provincial Park bears the signs of time and nature.
We were heading for the Spirit Sands in Spruce Woods Provincial Park the next day. Up in the bright morning, cautioned at the park gate about the heat rising on the sands, the way the dunes can make it as much as 10 C hotter. Out and up the trail edged by fading Prairie crocuses and yellow stoneflowers, past spruces and rogue chipmunks, trying to outrun the voices of other hikers.
Looking for hard alone, looking forward to the dunes.
There is a repetition of signs: 'Stay on the trail,' 'Fragile ecosystem' — and yet, at any point where it looked like there might be a view, there was an unregulated path pounded down through the undergrowth to allow off-path hikers to see a glimpse of the winding Assiniboine far down in the valley, or a sloped and shallow dell that might just hold a view of the river — but didn't — but might if you and everyone after you tromped your way in.
Later, up the grey, weathered wooden stairs to a lookoff over the dunes, interpretive signs to tell you what you could see — one defaced with heavy Sharpie graffiti — and every single surface of the greyed wood railing was carved with initials and names, the important and necessary proofs of who loved whom at one precise moment in time, and who was exactly right here, at this railing, on May 15, 2019, holding that essential point-down penknife.
But at least you could look up and away to the sweeps and hollows of the sand lands, the way they look accidentally peaked and valleyed, yet are precise creations of climate, physics and geometry. Sand, its peaks and slopes set by the unremitting values of the angle of repose of the size and shape of each of its grains.
The sand is washed clean — a new slate — when there's a rain, the dimples of raindrops like small shallow dimples or cups, filling in between each other with the randomness of their fall, until they overlap and erase things like footsteps.
RUSSELL WANGERSKY / FREE PRESS
Park Road in Cypress River, the route the coyotes took.
And a thunderstorm had passed through the night before, the very one we heard in the tent trailer, grumbling and flashing along the horizon, but its rainfall had not been heavy enough to reach down into the deepest footprints in soft sand. The dimples had dimpled, but had failed at success erasure.
So out on the dunes, on the rail, you could still see a spiderweb of footsteps heading away from the trail in almost any haphazard direction, ample evidence that just as many people ignore the requirement to stay on the trail as actually do take the path.
But worse was ahead.
Deep in the trail, right where you turn back, once you're confused enough by the straggle of other unofficial trails, you come to a resting spot, a few benches under a sloped roof, and a pair of cables run up a dune face, the cables passing through and attached to logs to make a set of soft stairs on the sand incline. A dune ladder, the least damaging path up the face.
There was a family of five at the top of the dune, 30 or 40 feet up, the parents looking away over the vista of the sands with their smartphones, taking pictures, while the kids, maybe 12 to 15, whooped and hollered and climbed the ladder before running across the dune top and then throwing themselves down the face of the dune in long looping sliding strides, rivers of sand rushing away in front of them, breaking up the duneface before heading back to the ladder, picking a fresh untrammelled section of dune, and then doing it all over again.
RUSSELL WANGERSKY / FREE PRESS
Austin and Maryanne decided to leave their mark on a park railing at the Spirit Sands.
Deep gashes left behind won't fill for ages, fragile plant life overrun by individual exuberance. And not a word was said, no remonstration. Half an hour's personal fun that won't be undone for the dunes for months, and for the plants, perhaps ever.
Lighten up, old man: it's just kids, being kids. We're out here to have fun.
There is garbage in the woods, pop cans and water bottles, and bagged poop-and-scoop doggie bags hanging from occasional branches a short fling away from the path.
Weekday Evenings
Today's must-read stories and a roundup of the day's headlines, delivered every evening.
Someday, maybe the prevailing ethos in our world will not be 'me and mine's fun first before everything.' Maybe it will be 'we all share a responsibility.'
Sadly, that time is not now.
The sands may still have spirit.
RUSSELL WANGERSKY / FREE PRESS
Fragile flowers often meet careless hikers at Spirit Sands.
Me? Not so much.
Russell Wangersky is the Comment Editor at the Free Press. He can be reached at russell.wangersky@freepress.mb.ca
Russell WangerskyPerspectives editor
Russell Wangersky is Perspectives Editor for the Winnipeg Free Press, and also writes editorials and columns. He worked at newspapers in Newfoundland and Labrador, Ontario and Saskatchewan before joining the Free Press in 2023. A seven-time National Newspaper Award finalist for opinion writing, he's also penned eight books. Read more about Russell.
Russell oversees the team that publishes editorials, opinions and analysis — part of the Free Press's tradition, since 1872, of producing reliable independent journalism. Read more about Free Press's history and mandate, and learn how our newsroom operates.
Our newsroom depends on a growing audience of readers to power our journalism. If you are not a paid reader, please consider becoming a subscriber.
Our newsroom depends on its audience of readers to power our journalism. Thank you for your support.
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Winnipeg Free Press
24-05-2025
- Winnipeg Free Press
Even time-sculpted sands scarred by the selfish
Opinion An escape from the harshness of the world to a homestead near Cypress River two weeks ago, to a night in a loose-gapped pop-up geriatric tent trailer with all of the outside seeping in liquid through seams, the sounds of the night birds peeping and whistling on the wind, a thunderstorm passing and a pack of coyotes passing, too, yodelling and yipping as they travelled down the road. A few minutes of magic, that short coyote transit, canine conversation distinct and so carefully shaped while half-sleeping that you could hold it in your hand like a ball. It was after lawn chairs and fire tankers rolling down the road to nearby wildland fires, after hot dogs and chips and potato salad and children finally asleep, after sloughing off worries and tamping down fears, sliding into that period where you talk among friends and family without even having to talk. Best of times. RUSSELL WANGERSKY / FREE PRESS A dune at the Spirit Sands in Spruce Woods Provincial Park bears the signs of time and nature. We were heading for the Spirit Sands in Spruce Woods Provincial Park the next day. Up in the bright morning, cautioned at the park gate about the heat rising on the sands, the way the dunes can make it as much as 10 C hotter. Out and up the trail edged by fading Prairie crocuses and yellow stoneflowers, past spruces and rogue chipmunks, trying to outrun the voices of other hikers. Looking for hard alone, looking forward to the dunes. There is a repetition of signs: 'Stay on the trail,' 'Fragile ecosystem' — and yet, at any point where it looked like there might be a view, there was an unregulated path pounded down through the undergrowth to allow off-path hikers to see a glimpse of the winding Assiniboine far down in the valley, or a sloped and shallow dell that might just hold a view of the river — but didn't — but might if you and everyone after you tromped your way in. Later, up the grey, weathered wooden stairs to a lookoff over the dunes, interpretive signs to tell you what you could see — one defaced with heavy Sharpie graffiti — and every single surface of the greyed wood railing was carved with initials and names, the important and necessary proofs of who loved whom at one precise moment in time, and who was exactly right here, at this railing, on May 15, 2019, holding that essential point-down penknife. But at least you could look up and away to the sweeps and hollows of the sand lands, the way they look accidentally peaked and valleyed, yet are precise creations of climate, physics and geometry. Sand, its peaks and slopes set by the unremitting values of the angle of repose of the size and shape of each of its grains. The sand is washed clean — a new slate — when there's a rain, the dimples of raindrops like small shallow dimples or cups, filling in between each other with the randomness of their fall, until they overlap and erase things like footsteps. RUSSELL WANGERSKY / FREE PRESS Park Road in Cypress River, the route the coyotes took. And a thunderstorm had passed through the night before, the very one we heard in the tent trailer, grumbling and flashing along the horizon, but its rainfall had not been heavy enough to reach down into the deepest footprints in soft sand. The dimples had dimpled, but had failed at success erasure. So out on the dunes, on the rail, you could still see a spiderweb of footsteps heading away from the trail in almost any haphazard direction, ample evidence that just as many people ignore the requirement to stay on the trail as actually do take the path. But worse was ahead. Deep in the trail, right where you turn back, once you're confused enough by the straggle of other unofficial trails, you come to a resting spot, a few benches under a sloped roof, and a pair of cables run up a dune face, the cables passing through and attached to logs to make a set of soft stairs on the sand incline. A dune ladder, the least damaging path up the face. There was a family of five at the top of the dune, 30 or 40 feet up, the parents looking away over the vista of the sands with their smartphones, taking pictures, while the kids, maybe 12 to 15, whooped and hollered and climbed the ladder before running across the dune top and then throwing themselves down the face of the dune in long looping sliding strides, rivers of sand rushing away in front of them, breaking up the duneface before heading back to the ladder, picking a fresh untrammelled section of dune, and then doing it all over again. RUSSELL WANGERSKY / FREE PRESS Austin and Maryanne decided to leave their mark on a park railing at the Spirit Sands. Deep gashes left behind won't fill for ages, fragile plant life overrun by individual exuberance. And not a word was said, no remonstration. Half an hour's personal fun that won't be undone for the dunes for months, and for the plants, perhaps ever. Lighten up, old man: it's just kids, being kids. We're out here to have fun. There is garbage in the woods, pop cans and water bottles, and bagged poop-and-scoop doggie bags hanging from occasional branches a short fling away from the path. Weekday Evenings Today's must-read stories and a roundup of the day's headlines, delivered every evening. Someday, maybe the prevailing ethos in our world will not be 'me and mine's fun first before everything.' Maybe it will be 'we all share a responsibility.' Sadly, that time is not now. The sands may still have spirit. RUSSELL WANGERSKY / FREE PRESS Fragile flowers often meet careless hikers at Spirit Sands. Me? Not so much. Russell Wangersky is the Comment Editor at the Free Press. He can be reached at Russell WangerskyPerspectives editor Russell Wangersky is Perspectives Editor for the Winnipeg Free Press, and also writes editorials and columns. He worked at newspapers in Newfoundland and Labrador, Ontario and Saskatchewan before joining the Free Press in 2023. A seven-time National Newspaper Award finalist for opinion writing, he's also penned eight books. Read more about Russell. Russell oversees the team that publishes editorials, opinions and analysis — part of the Free Press's tradition, since 1872, of producing reliable independent journalism. Read more about Free Press's history and mandate, and learn how our newsroom operates. Our newsroom depends on a growing audience of readers to power our journalism. If you are not a paid reader, please consider becoming a subscriber. Our newsroom depends on its audience of readers to power our journalism. Thank you for your support.
Winnipeg Free Press
16-05-2025
- Winnipeg Free Press
Manitoba visitors now an endangered species in North Dakota
GRAND FORKS — A few kilometres north of this North Dakota city, a towering 15-metre-wide billboard along the I-29 highway stands out — especially if you're Canadian. It's rented by the C'mon Inn, a well-known hotel along the city's 32nd Avenue, nestled among the shops Manitobans have frequented for decades. On this balmy Monday morning 235 kilometres south of Winnipeg, the hotel's parking lot is quiet. The weekend crowd — if there had been one — has long since vanished. Whether there was a Canadian contingent at all depends on who you ask. SCOTT BILLECK / FREE PRESS Visit Greater Grand Forks gave stickers to businesses to hang in their store windows, reminding Canadians that they 'put the Grand in our Forks.' SCOTT BILLECK / FREE PRESS Visit Greater Grand Forks gave stickers to businesses to hang in their store windows, reminding Canadians that they 'put the Grand in our Forks.' No one in charge at the hotel is willing to speak on the record to the Free Press, but whispers of a decline in Canadian clientele are hard to ignore. So, too, are the statistics. Titled the Canadian Political Climate Report, a six-page document compiled by Visit Greater Grand Forks — a tourism agency akin to Travel Manitoba — outlines what local hotels are experiencing. Eighty-three per cent of those polled in a recent survey say they noticed a decrease in Canadian guests staying at their properties. Notably, not a single respondent indicated an increase. Forty-five per cent feel it's due to the current political climate, including annexation threats and tariffs imposed by U.S. President Donald Trump, who carried North Dakota with 67 per cent of the vote last November, including 57 per cent in Grand Forks County. While none of the surveyed hotels blamed the exchange rate directly — the Canadian dollar was trading at 71 cents that day — the remaining 55 per cent believed it was a mix of both politics and economics. One thing most agreed on: the political tensions are impacting business. A striking 92 per cent of those surveyed felt the Canada-U.S. relationship is affecting bookings and triggering cancellations. Only eight per cent disagreed. Feedback from hotels includes concerns ranging from exchange rates and tariffs to 'waiting to see what Trump will do next.' 'I've had some email responses from past Canadian guests saying they loved our hotel but will not be visiting/staying again until our current president is not in office,' said one anonymous response. Another put it bluntly: 'The average Canadian seems to feel betrayed by recent changes. The overall sentiment seems to be (to) travel to the U.S. only when absolutely necessary.' Pages 3-6 of the document contain email after email received by the agency from north of the border. Some are angry, some humorous and many are unmistakably disappointed. They blame Trump and accuse the U.S. of treating Canada as the enemy. They speak fondly of previous quarterly visits. They ask to be removed from newsletter mailing lists. Some urge stern calls to the Oval Office. Many are written in the past tense. 'Staying, eating and shopping there was so much fun.' Visit Greater Grand Forks has responded with a three-pronged approach. It continues to manage an extensive digital advertising campaign in Manitoba, though social media ads have been suspended. The agency distributed window decals that read, 'Canadians put the Grand in our Forks.' Some businesses have posted them. Many others haven't bothered. And agency leadership has decided to decline media interview requests in Manitoba. (They also declined an in-person request.) That silence may explain why many of the hotels were also tight-lipped. The Free Press obtained the political climate report from an employee at a major chain retail store, who was eager to sound the alarm. Normally, the employee said, they'd be getting their store ready for the influx of Canadians flooding into town over the May long weekend. This year, they're not even bothering. Emma Catka hasn't had to stray far from her post behind the register at Ragstock, a Minneapolis-based retailer specializing in new and vintage clothing and accessories inside Columbia Mall. The mall, once a bustling destination for shoppers from Manitoba, is now a shadow of its former self. Vacant storefronts outnumber those open for business and, by midday Monday, even some of the occupied shops had yet to open their doors. Catka was willing to talk and empathized with Canadians. 'I'm one of the few that didn't vote (for Trump),' she said. 'I know some people are boycotting out of principle, out of morals. And I completely respect that. It's a bummer, because we're running a business. We're not at risk of closing, by any means, but the Grand Forks community can tell there are not as many Canadians. You don't know it until they're not here.' She added that the few Canadians still crossing the border don't seem overly concerned about politics. A scan of parking lots at major shopping hubs Monday — including Target, TJ Maxx, Hobby Lobby and Texas Roadhouse — turned up just a handful of Manitoba licence plates. SCOTT BILLECK / FREE PRESS Parking lots lining Grand Forks' 32nd Avenue were largely devoid of Manitoban license plates earlier this week. SCOTT BILLECK / FREE PRESS Parking lots lining Grand Forks' 32nd Avenue were largely devoid of Manitoban license plates earlier this week. A worker at Hobby Lobby insisted Canadians are still coming down on weekends. 'Maybe it's because we have something down here they don't have up there,' she said. Up the road at Happy Harry's, that comment rings true. Store managers at both locations declined formal interviews, but a Happy Harry's cashier said Fridays and Saturdays tend to bring a steady flow of Manitobans eager to snag American liquor brands no longer sold at Manitoba Liquor Marts. The Wab Kinew government removed all American booze from Liquor Marts shelves in early March in response to Trump's tariffs. Back inside Columbia Mall, another store manager, speaking candidly on the condition of anonymity, was blunt about the impact. 'As soon as Trump took the presidency, we lost about 90 per cent of our Canadian traffic,' she said. 'For this mall, that's 30 per cent of our overall traffic. That's a huge hit that we can't make up. How do we create a new population to come in?' At Grand Forks city hall, a framed University of North Dakota hockey jersey with the name 'Bochenski' and the number 20 hangs on the wall in the mayor's office. Brandon Bochenski became the 27th mayor of Grand Forks in June 2020. The 43-year-old former pro hockey player unseated incumbent Mike Brown, who occupied the office for two decades. Bochenski was born in Blaine, Minn., about 500 kilometres southeast of Grand Forks. He played high school hockey with former Winnipeg Jets forward Matt Hendricks before becoming a star player at UND in the early 2000s, alongside future National Hockey Leaguers Zach Parise and former Jets forward Drew Stafford. His collegiate success led to a seventh-round selection by the Ottawa Senators in the 2001 NHL Draft. Over his career, he played 156 NHL games for six teams, logged another 256 games in the American Hockey League and, eventually, spent eight seasons in Kazakhstan, captaining Barys Astana in the Kontinental Hockey League. There, he played with Winnipeggers Nigel Dawes and Dustin Boyd. That time overseas — especially in Russia and Kazakhstan — along with his close ties to Canadian teammates and friends, has shaped his perspective as mayor at a time of political strife. 'I played in Russia for eight years and people always ask me, 'What were the Russians like? Our countries hate each other,'' Bochenski said. 'But it was perfectly normal. They were friendly. They were caring. We got together great. They weren't mean to me. 'Of course, the governments have their conflicts, but as far as the day-to-day people, they were just normal people trying to get by, making life better for their families. It's no different than the Canadians and Americans.' SCOTT BILLECK / FREE PRESS Grand Forks mayor Brandon Bochenski, a former NHLer with ties to Winnipeg, says his city misses Canadians, but admits there's not much he can do to influence the current political situation. SCOTT BILLECK / FREE PRESS Grand Forks mayor Brandon Bochenski, a former NHLer with ties to Winnipeg, says his city misses Canadians, but admits there's not much he can do to influence the current political situation. The mayor has read the same emails expressing frustration sent to the city's tourism office. He's heard the calls to contact Trump. 'But we're the 682nd largest city in the U.S.,' Bochenski said. 'He doesn't listen to his own advisers at times. I don't know he's going to listen to us.' He also acknowledges North Dakota's reputation as a conservative stronghold; it's one of the most Republican-leaning states in the country. 'People want to tie (everyone) to that,' he said. 'If you voted for that, it means that every decision they make, you endorse that. I don't agree with that idea.' Like its local businesses, the city has little choice but to weather the storm. Bochenski noted that the decision to scale back Manitoba-targeted advertising came after earlier efforts backfired. It's hard to promote tourism, he said, when political messaging suggests Canadians aren't welcome. Still, he insisted the city's friendly, welcoming attitude toward Canadians hasn't changed. 'But if you're following the messaging (from the Trump administration), it's very protectionist,' he admitted. 'It's not traditional American values.' Jody Thompson expected a record turnout of Canadian basketball teams in Grand Forks last month. For decades, the Jr. Grand Am Basketball Tournament — North Dakota's largest hoops event — has been a major draw for Manitoba-based club teams. Boys and girls from Grades 3-12 travel to compete against hundreds of teams from across the state, Minnesota and Canada. Thompson, who runs the tournament, had anticipated up to 75 Canadian teams this year. 'We had done some target marketing in and around Winnipeg,' he said. Instead, just 37 squads made the trip, a sharp decline from the 60 last year. For Thompson, it meant a $6,000 loss in registration fees. Downtown Grand Forks' restaurants and bars. Downtown Grand Forks' restaurants and bars. For the city, which realized $4.2 million in economic impact from the tournament in 2024, the financial sting was much deeper. 'Canadian teams bring lots of kids, lots of families,' he said. 'They don't drive back and forth, obviously. So they stay in our hotels and motels, spend money at our lodging places and gas stations. So the economic advantage of having a regular group of Canadian teams, we just didn't have that this year.' Teams that chose to stay home cited political tensions tied to Trump as a deciding factor. 'It was understandable and unfortunate,' Thompson said. 'We talked to some of the teams that did come, and they mentioned they did have conversations with their families about should they or shouldn't they come. They ultimately decided to come for the kids' experience of playing in the tournament.' Thompson said he hopes the cross-border tensions settle down in time for next year's tournament or, at the very least, that kids who missed out will urge their parents to return. About 130 kilometres further south down I-29, Charley Johnson, the president and CEO of the Fargo-Moorhead Convention & Visitors Bureau, has fears that the fallout from the fractured political relations could be long-lasting. The metro area straddling the North Dakota-Minnesota border, more than twice the size of greater Grand Forks at about 229,000 residents, has long been another favourite destination for Manitobans on its own, or as a halfway stop on the way to, or from, Minneapolis-St. Paul. 'It's going to take a while to earn trust back, and we haven't even started to try and earn it just yet,' Johnson said. While tariffs ebb and flow, Johnson said it's Trump's repeated talk of annexation — the so-called 51st state rhetoric — that's going to leave a scar. 'It seems to me that it's the biggest burr under the saddles of Canadians,' he said. 'In Canadians who have called me, they've been unfailingly polite, but they just seem hurt and angered by it. Hurt, more than anything. 'It's going to take a while for people to trust us again.' Johnson has closely followed data from the Emerson-Pembina port of entry. Crossings dropped about 4.5 per cent in January 2025 compared to the same month in 2024, but by March, the decline ballooned to 28.6 per cent. March, typically a busy month for visits during Manitoba schools' spring break, saw the sharpest drop yet. Vehicle passenger numbers fell from 49,651 in 2024 to 29,862 in 2025 — a near 40 per cent decrease. Vehicle crossings — not taking account the number of people inside — fell 33 per cent, from 19,565 in March 2024 to 13,037 this year. In Fargo, he said, there's been a 12 per cent decline in hotel revenue and occupancy rates, something he anecdotally attributed to the dip in Canadian travellers. Tana Sorenson, the regional director of operations for Hotel Equities, which has a corporate office in Fargo and runs more than 250 properties across North America, said there's been a modest decline in Canadian bookings. 'Not enough where we're panicking,' she said. 'But we're aware, to where we're looking at what do we do in response.' Sorenson said the company is taking a proactive approach, including attending Canadian trade shows and launching targeted digital ad campaigns, particularly on Facebook. Digital ads may be working for some, but Johnson said he recently tried to buy time to run a radio ad on a Winnipeg radio station and was turned down. 'They wouldn't take our money,' he said. There's no hero's welcome waiting for Canadians at the Emerson-Pembina border crossing. Not yet, anyway. North Dakota hasn't reached that level of desperation. Instead, the ritual is subdued, even anticlimactic. A solitary stop at a vacant booth. A flash of the passport. A couple of perfunctory questions. Then you're waved through, as quickly as you arrived. Tales of phones being seized, interrogations about Trump or detainments for unflattering political opinions? None of them bore out. The entire process took less than a minute — a breeze, quite literally, on a morning swept by prairie wind. On the U.S. side, Pembina is a carbon copy of Emerson: quiet, empty, almost forgotten. The twin duty-free shops and their vacant parking lots, businesses stuck in a pandemic-like slumber. The store manager on the American side declined to talk, but across the road at Gastrak, an employee summed it up with a shrug. Like many who spoke, both on and off the record, there's not much they can do but wait. Scott BilleckReporter Scott Billeck is a general assignment reporter for the Free Press. A Creative Communications graduate from Red River College, Scott has more than a decade's worth of experience covering hockey, football and global pandemics. He joined the Free Press in 2024. Read more about Scott. Every piece of reporting Scott produces is reviewed by an editing team before it is posted online or published in print — part of the Free Press's tradition, since 1872, of producing reliable independent journalism. Read more about Free Press's history and mandate, and learn how our newsroom operates. Our newsroom depends on a growing audience of readers to power our journalism. If you are not a paid reader, please consider becoming a subscriber. Our newsroom depends on its audience of readers to power our journalism. Thank you for your support.
Winnipeg Free Press
10-05-2025
- Winnipeg Free Press
Jasper bouncing back after historic wildfire
JASPER, ALTA. — After last summer's devastating wildfire, Jasper is on the road to recovery. For locals, that recovery is ongoing but for businesses and the local economy at large, it means welcoming outsiders back, now. It's a delicate dance. 'We're in this together,' read posters around town put up by the Municipality of Jasper. The posters address both Jasper residents and visitors. They acknowledge Jasperites' grief, loss and complex emotions, and note visitors may be experiencing these same feelings. To visitors, the message is 'welcome back,' but the municipality urges people not to fixate on what was lost but rather to ask locals what they love about their home. Katrina Clarke / Free Press A view of Jasper National Park and its townsite in March 2025. Katrina Clarke / Free Press A view of Jasper National Park and its townsite in March 2025. For longtime Jasperite Colin Borrow, this is a period of adjustment. He is the director of skiing at Marmot Basin mountain ski resort, which was mercifully spared in the July 2024 fire. But many of his colleagues lost their homes, accommodation for seasonal staff is tight and tourists have fewer places to stay. 'Roulette' is how Borrow describes what the fire destroyed and spared. Some homes sit untouched but are surrounded by others that burned to the ground. Much of the downtown strip is still standing but there are random gaps where businesses once stood. About 33,000 hectares burned throughout Jasper National Park. Things are different, Borrow says, but the mountains are still here. The wildlife is still here. The community is here. And for those who do come to ski, they get the added benefit of an uncrowded and spectacular mountain. (I skied for two days and didn't wait in a single line or share a chairlift. It felt as if I had the entire mountain to myself. Did I mention there was 20 centimetres of fresh powder and bluebird days during my visit?). Borrow notes the mountain is Canadian-owned and operated. Amid the ongoing tariff standoff with the United States, his hope is Canadians will be more inclined to support domestic businesses like Marmot Basin. Amber Bracken / THE CANADIAN PRESS FILES A devastating wildfire last summer caused evacuations and widespread damage in Alberta's Jasper National Park and the Jasper townsite. Amber Bracken / THE CANADIAN PRESS FILES A devastating wildfire last summer caused evacuations and widespread damage in Alberta's Jasper National Park and the Jasper townsite. My first visit to Jasper was in the winter of 2024, a few months before the fire. Coming back a year later, knowing one-third of structures in the town had burned, I wasn't sure what to expect. It was incredible to see how much survived. I went on hikes where there was no evidence of fire and ate at restaurants I'd loved the year before. But it was also sad to see how bare some mountains looked, how entire neighbourhoods were destroyed and how much residential clean-up is left to do. Still, I felt welcomed by those in the community, and I tried to show appreciation and respect where I could. Others felt the same. Jacqueline Hillyer, visiting from the U.K., said she only knew a little about the fires before arriving in March. The scorched mountainsides only made the scenery more interesting to her. But she could feel the weight of grief and loss residents still grapple with. 'There's a sadness and a heaviness,' she said, referring to discussions she had with shop owners or overheard conversations. She hoped her visit was doing something positive for locals, supporting their economy when the future is still in flux. Gazing out at the stunning mountain view over breakfast at the historic Fairmont Jasper Park Lodge, Daniel Ross, public relations manager with the lodge, said it's important to strike the right balance when it comes to addressing the impact of the fire with guests. The view from the resort, for instance, has changed — mountainside trees burned into toothpicks and edges of the resort property along with a few structures were also affected. It came within metres of one of the resort's most luxurious signature cabins where Queen Elizabeth once stayed and sadly, another of the cabins was destroyed. In many ways though, much remains the same — elk eat grass just metres away, the outdoor pool and hot tub overlook the emerald-coloured Lac Beauvert and impressive mountains surround us. Ross is looking forward to summer, when wildflowers are expected to carpet the forest floor post-fire. The resort is also undergoing extensive renovations unrelated to the fire with the goal of elevating the lodge's rustic charm. Jasper tour guide Jeff Hanson reminds those on his Sundog Tours bus that forest fires are a natural part of the ecological cycle. Winnipeg Jets Game Days On Winnipeg Jets game days, hockey writers Mike McIntyre and Ken Wiebe send news, notes and quotes from the morning skate, as well as injury updates and lineup decisions. Arrives a few hours prior to puck drop. 'It's how Mother Nature rejuvenates the forest,' said Hanson. He is leading the Wildlife of Jasper and Ecology of Fire tour. More than a dozen visitors from the U.K. and across Canada and the U.S. are on board. The fire itself has generated tourism. We drive past charred forests as he points out animals thriving in the new landscape — elk abound. Plentiful berry bushes are expected to soon draw more bears too. Still, it takes years for forests devastated by fire to return to what they once were. We pass by an area of fire from 2015. Small evergreen trees a few feet high are starting to make their mark on the forest floor. We pass through an area the fire didn't reach, with evergreens heavily laden with snow. Someone on the bus shouts, 'Moose!' We drive slowly and spot a mama moose resting nearby with an excited calf darting between trees behind her. 'Obviously, everything is not quite back to normal yet,' Hanson said at the end of the tour. 'But as we saw today, the animals are still here — and thriving.' Katrina ClarkeInvestigative reporter Katrina Clarke is an investigative reporter at the Winnipeg Free Press. Katrina holds a bachelor's degree in politics from Queen's University and a master's degree in journalism from Western University. She has worked at newspapers across Canada, including the National Post and the Toronto Star. She joined the Free Press in 2022. Read more about Katrina. Every piece of reporting Katrina produces is reviewed by an editing team before it is posted online or published in print — part of the Free Press's tradition, since 1872, of producing reliable independent journalism. Read more about Free Press's history and mandate, and learn how our newsroom operates. Our newsroom depends on a growing audience of readers to power our journalism. If you are not a paid reader, please consider becoming a subscriber. Our newsroom depends on its audience of readers to power our journalism. Thank you for your support.
