Blue Skies, Grey Skies
By Peter Ewart
Tuesday, September 05, 2006 03:43 AM
I worked on an asphalt paving crew in Prince George for a number of years when I was younger, much younger. It was not an easy job. We hacked away with our picks under the relentless sun, shoveled sizzling hot asphalt into wheelbarrows, and steered road rollers endlessly back and forth down long black ribbons of pavement.
One thing that pavers back then - and still today - always paid attention to was the weather. It could be bright blue and as hot as hell, but if those fat clouds with dark bellies began to gather ominously over Cranbrook Hill, we knew a storm was coming and we had to watch out.
Why? Because rain is the bane of pavers all over the world. A few minutes of rain and the compact gravel base, so carefully prepared, dissolves into a soupy mess. Another few minutes and the hot asphalt that, in good weather, slides off shovel blades like butter, turns into a cold sticky mass that is as ornery as crazy glue and as stubborn as a chunk of old concrete. If there is a hell, one of the jobs down there surely must be shoveling cold asphalt in a heavy rain.
So good pavers always watch the weather, and prepare accordingly. As much as possible, they schedule their work to avoid getting caught in the inevitable downpours.
Today, in the Prince George region things look positively sunny, at least relative to a few years ago. Houses are selling like hotcakes; highways are choked with logging trucks groaning with freshly cut logs; construction companies are advertising for tradespeople; and restaurants are screaming for cooks and waiters. In the coffee shops, rumours swirl of oil and gas in the Nechako basin and of pipelines crisscrossing the province. The population of the town will surely shoot up, the chatter goes, just like that crop of dandelions that dots our lawns every spring.
Some even claim that the lustre of the Vancouver – Whistler 2010 Olympics will rub off way up here in the North. And then some even say that the sun will never stop shining.
There truly is a fever in the air.
But times are coming when the sun will cloud over. And there is a lot of evidence that such times are gathering on the horizon.
The American housing market is starting to fall – no, a better word is plunge - into a freefall that threatens to pull the entire North American economy into recession. British Columbia supplies half of U.S. lumber imports, and the ripple effect from the U.S. downturn will not be small for our region.
If the price of lumber dips more, and there is good reason to believe it will, the export taxes in the Softwood Lumber Agreement will kick in, further aggravating the problems of Canadian lumber producers.
And then there is the pine beetle epidemic, which is being described as the largest natural disaster of its kind in North American history. 8.5 million hectares of prime BC timber is already destroyed, and the epicenter of the infestation is in our region. There is no disputing the results: the annual allowable cut will go down significantly, jobs will be lost, and mills may close.
These are pretty hefty clouds that we ignore at our peril.
Lately, I, along with others, have been involved in a regional “Stand Up for the North” committee that is planning and organizing a conference at CNC in Prince George for the weekend of November 4th and 5th about what communities can do in the wake of the pine beetle. The idea is to bring people together from across the region, both small and big towns, to discuss and develop made-in-the-north solutions as to how we can renew our communities and forests in the challenging period that is looming.
Some sectors of the community have been very supportive. Others don’t see much of a need for such a conference, given that the economy is going so well. Still others hang back because they fear they will offend the provincial government in some way.
The reality of the situation is that we are entering a period where the forest industry (and by extension the economy of the Prince George region) cannot and will not continue in the old way. Big, even potentially cataclysmic, changes are coming. Unless we begin to discuss the new realities that are rapidly descending on us, we will be caught unprepared and some communities may even be swept away by the storm.
Pavers often glance up at the horizon as they work. Despite their watchful eyes, they are an optimistic bunch. And so are Northerners. From the time of the first native people and the time of the first settlers, Northerners have never ignored the realities of life in this beautiful, productive, but sometimes harsh land. Indeed, healthy optimism, unlike euphoria, means facing reality square on and developing plans accordingly.
Blue skies, grey skies. Whatever the weather is today and whatever it may be tomorrow, we can still continue to build our communities and prosper in the future. But only if, like those pavers sweating away on the roads, we keep our eyes wide open and our gaze to the horizon.
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Posted by: Jethro on September 5 2006 8:36 AM
But tell that to the ones wearing those rose colored glasses?
No such thing as a "rainy day" on their horizon.
So many are just going into debt like there is no tomorrow, and it is a spree to spend, spend, spend, and those good old credit cards can be maxed right out. Going to be a lot of "haves," and who wants to be a "have not?"
When it comes time to "pay the piper" and the economy flip flops and goes sideways, those who operate on the side of caution can pick up some good deals from the "haves" who cannot keep.
Experience may be the best teacher, but there will be learning experiences which will devastate many.
When the crunch comes, and it will, there will be no building of the community, and prosperity, if any, will be for very few.
Recovery always takes time!
Anyone remember how quickly the fall came in the early '80's?
Many never fully recovered!