It’s not hard to tell why people are upset about snowmobile use around Big Lake and within Lois Hole Provincial Park.
The extensive green space and wetland area on the outskirts of St. Albert provides a phenomenal opportunity to ignore city life and experience the wilderness right in our backyard.
Despite chilly weather conditions, conservation officers Rob Spelliscy and Chad Stevens spent several hours last Saturday afternoon patrolling the park following up on complaints about off-highway vehicles around the lake. Although they didn’t see anyone breaking the rules by riding in the park – an offence that comes with a $287 fine – they did see quite a few tracks.
Spelliscy said for the most part, people are good about respecting the rules and confining their snowmobile use to designated trail systems in the province like those in the Whitecourt and Redwater areas, and enforcement action is typically very rare.
“There are a lot of really good people out there who do operate these machines, but it’s just those few that are out there that sometimes send out the wrong signal,” he said.
The area has been a provincial park since 2005. Before that it was designated as a natural area, which comes with a different set of rules. In the first couple of years after the transition there was a concerted effort to educate park users about what is and isn’t allowed, and for the most part people got the message.
“We just started getting the complaints here recently, and there aren’t a lot of complaints, like two or three,” Spelliscy said. “That’s an increase from previous years.”
One of the main reasons snowmobiles are prohibited in the area is to protect the ecological integrity of the lake. It is a fairly significant wetland area, used by a host of migratory birds and other wildlife.
There is a dense structure of cattails surrounding most of the lake, and snowmobiles or other motorized equipment can flatten and destroy these areas.
“That’s pretty critical not only to the birds but to the other wildlife too, that use it for shelter, nesting, cover and those types of purposes,” Spelliscy said.
Even on the surface of the lake itself, when the snow gets compacted, it can affect the amount of sunlight getting through, which can in turn lower oxygen levels and hurt the fish population.
It only takes a few minutes to see the level of animal activity in the park. Tracks from several animals, which include rabbits and coyotes among others, can be seen everywhere. Piles of droppings here and there show many of these animals are right at home. Stevens pointed out several branches of willow trees that had been stripped of their bark, and it wasn’t long before the culprit itself made an appearance – a porcupine up in a tree.
Aside from the environmental implications of sledding in the park, it also ruins the park experience for non-motorized users of the system who want to enjoy the peace and quiet.
St. Albert resident William Tucker was out on the lake on his cross-country skis last Saturday afternoon, and said he had already felt the impact of snowmobiling soon after setting off for the day.
“I just slipped. There was a track underneath the snow covering, and I fell because of it,” he said. “There was an indentation and I just slipped into it.”
And even without the physical hazards, he sometimes sees or hears snowmobiles when he’s out enjoying the park, which shatters the experience of a quiet afternoon in nature.
“Once you get past the highway there, there’s just no sounds,” Tucker said. “That’s what I appreciate about it.”
Vaughn Myer echoed Tucker’s sentiments while out for a run with his dog Gracie May, saying the peaceful escape from the city is one of the main reasons he uses the area.
He measured his words carefully, but it was clear he was unenthusiastic about the snowmobilers he’s seen out in the area.
“There’s the whole world to snowmobile on,” he said. “I don’t know why they pick the river and the lake.”
Spelliscy and Stevens are just two of the approximately 80 conservation officers in Alberta, with four officers assigned to an area as far west as Edson, northwest to Fort Assiniboine and east to Redwater.
Those low numbers sometimes make it challenging, as it’s hard to be everywhere at once, but they can rely on temporary summer staff in the busy months, and on partnerships with other enforcement agencies such as the RCMP and community groups such as the Big Lake Environmental Support Society year-round.
While they carry the provincial peace officer designation and can enforce a wide range of parks, traffic and Criminal Code offences, their ticket books are rarely used.
“Generally, we’re out there for the safety and security of park users,” Stevens said. “We’re also there to protect the environment against any other type of incompatible uses.”
Both motorized and non-motorized users tend to be receptive to the conservation officers and are willing to be educated about proper trail use, so there isn’t often any conflict — but it does sometimes exist.
“In my experience, I haven’t really seen the physical, but I’ve certainly heard about the verbal confrontations and witnessed that in the past,” Spelliscy said. “Typically it’s more on the verbal side – verbal, hand signals and that type of thing.”
The two conservation officers have seen a fair bit of that first hand, since they do their patrols through the park on snowmobiles and people don’t always realize who they are or why they’re there. When they introduce themselves, though, the reception is almost always a warm one.
Sometimes people offer a less-than-friendly welcome when the conservation officers make an appearance, a challenge shared by virtually every enforcement officer, but that doesn’t affect their level of job satisfaction. Both Spelliscy and Stevens said they got into this line of work because they love the outdoors.
“I like this job because of the variety,” Stevens said. “I have a balance of office work versus field work. Would I rather be in the field than in the office? Yes, but it’s a change of pace.”
And on days when it’s 40 below, the office work isn’t such a bad thing.
“If I didn’t love the job I wouldn’t still be here after 30 or 40 years, I’d be thinking about retiring, but I’m not,” Spelliscy said.
