Algonquin Provinical Park: Beautiful Nature or Colonial Landscape?

The first month in Canada has been absolutely amazing; I’ve met exchange students from all over the world (as well as a couple of Canadians here and there), have enjoyed geography modules related specifically to the region (e.g. Geography of Canada; and Historical Geography of North America) and have travelled around Ontario and even ventured bravely into Quebec (unfortunately, 7 years of learning French still left me unable to decipher their accent *sigh*). 

When I initially came out to Canada this summer with my brother, we travelled around Ontario a bit before I went back to Toronto to settle in. One of the places my brother and I visited was Algonquin Provincial Park. This is a beautiful park, with huge lakes and lush woods of maple and pine. I revisited with the other exchange students a month later, where we camped, hiked and went canoeing. Magical moments from my trips to Algonquin include watching the chipmunks scampering about, seeing a black bear dash across the road, and lying in my tent at 3am listening to the howling of the wolves. Algonquin is an enchanting place where one can appreciate the beauty of nature and wilderness. And yet the question is, how natural is this landscape?  

Chipmunks are adorable! But do they live in a completely
natural environment...?

First of all, the forests of Algonquin are far from primeval. For the past 175 years they have been logged and burned to supply the large market for Canadian pine that arose in Britain in the early 1800s. As the market grew, more and more men went farther into the wilderness to cut more and more trees. Every spring, when the winter snow melted and river levels rose, the logs would be floated down to the big cities from where they would be shipped across the Atlantic. In fact, Algonquin was not declared a Provincial Park for environmental reasons, it was declared a Park to protect the capital interests of the white European settlers; Algonquin was simply a place to be exploited for timber and beaver fur for the fur trade.

Thus Algonquin is a landscape that has been transformed completely in the last 200 years. Physically, large old trees were cut down and logging infrastructure grew in its place: lumbermen huts, the railway, bridges and lookout towers. While many of these old railways and bridges are no longer in use, their remnants still litter the park, reminding us that this landscape was completely absorbed by the logics of capital introduced by the white settlers 200 years ago. Even today, most of the park is still logged; the landscape is thoroughly controlled by man.

Originally, lumber was floated down the rivers to the big cities 
during spring; the introduction of the railway meant faster, more 
reliable transportation that was not limited to one season. 

I would also like to suggest that the voices of the First Nation, the Algonquins, have been silenced in the Park. A number of trail guide books are available to pick up at each trail, yet the guide books focus on the ecology and geology of the Park, with the history of the Park starting with the early lumber industry. Who knows, maybe I just didn't do the trails that focus on the First Nations in the Park, but after my two trips, I can easily tell you all about the logging and the ecology, yet I know very little about the people who originally lived in and used the area.  Place names in the Park are mostly English, which, following lectures for my U of T course Culture, History, Landscape, feeds into one of the ways that the early European settlers dispossessed the First Nations from their land: laying land claims in territorial maps through the use of new place names and ignoring the previous names and claims. 

One example of this is a trail that goes past a section of a river known as Whiskey Rapids. These rapids got their name because near the turn of the 19th century, a group of log drivers celebrating the end of their log drive were trying to transport a keg of whiskey down the rapids from the railroad station. Two of the men decided to have a quick first drink while on their canoe but ended up drinking until darkness fell and they didn't see the approaching rapids. The canoe tipped and the keg was lost, thus explaining how the rapids got their name. While this is a fun story that gives insight into the lives of the loggers, it is an example of how the whole Park has been renamed by white European settlers to lay claim on the land by creating new, overriding histories in various different places.

Top section of Whiskey Rapids, Algonquin Provincial Park

In conclusion, there is no denying that Algonquin Provincial Park is a beautiful place. But let’s not pretend that this is a wholly natural landscape or that it represents a true Canadian wilderness. Rather, it is very much a colonial landscape utterly transformed by white European settlers.