Cycling For Stories

by Aftab Erfan

How far is the next town?
Do I have enough peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches to make it through the day?
What is it like to run in fields of wheat?
How come cows are so interested in cyclists that they stop grazing and watch us go by?
What will happen to timber-wolves when the boreal forest is cut down to expand oil operations?
How much development is too much development?
Would I be happy with a high paying job if it meant I could only see my family on weekends?
Are rich men in expensive suits evil?
Is my journey making a difference?

These were some of the questions going through my mind as I pedalled 1552 kilometers on the highways of Alberta over three weeks this summer. I was in the company of greatness: twenty young and passionate people, mad enough, or at least curious enough, about the extensive oil development in Alberta to arrive from all over North America to learn about it — environmentalists, journalists, students, athletes, artists, warriors. Most, I had never met before we started sharing every minute of every day, every pot of food prepared on a campfire, and every overwhelming experience.

The Tar Sands (also know as oil sands) are large deposits of oil-rich material in northern Alberta, Canada. The deposits underlie thousands of kilometres of boreal forest and are rumoured to contain upwards of 150 billion barrels of crude oil, which make Canada’s oil reserves the second largest in the world, behind Saudi Arabia. Currently, about 1 million barrels of oil are extracted very day, almost all of which is exported to feed the energy thirst of the United States. The majority of the development is taking place in and around the city of Fort McMurray, which has transformed from a community of several hundreds in the 1950s to a boomtown of 80,000 today, struggling to provide for its rapidly growing population.

Like any other big development, the tar sands are controversial. From an environmental perspective, they seem to be a disaster. From an economic perspective, they are apparently a miracle. But how are they actually impacting the lives of individuals and communities? Do they serve the interests of Canadians? Do they improve the quality of life of Albertans? Do they make us healthier, happier, better people? There was only one way to find out: Ask!

“To The Tar Sands” bike trip was designed as a story-catching and story-telling journey. We started the trip on the US-Alberta border and biked our way up north, stopping in large and small communities along our way to talk to people, to invite their stories about how the oil development is touching their lives. We met ranchers and farmers upholding the agrarian history of Alberta against the oil drills. We spoke to workers about the smell of phosphorous on their clothes from working in the oil mines. We talked to energy developers who are beginning to shift to solar and wind power to diversify their energy offerings profile beyond oil. We heard from First Nation elders about the pain of giving up their communities’ traditional way of life in exchange for jobs in the oil industry. We met civil servants and social service providers trying to create a sense of community amongst a transient population. We chatted with young professional who were getting ten years worth of work experience condensed into one in a booming economy. We spoke to healthcare professionals worried about the increased cases of cancer in communities downstream from the oil sands. We met parents who were glad for jobs that let them put their children through university. We played with children who hardly got to play with their overworked parents.

Somewhere between the stories of Albertans, there was a realization for me that I was slowly losing my own position on “the right thing to do” in Alberta. On one hand, the stories of environmental and social degradation painted the dark side of tar sands development in fine detail. On the other hand, the stories of economic dependence on the oil industry made it clear that there cannot be a quick and clean break without devastating the people who depend on it. As I sat down for a face-to-face with both proponents and opponents of the oil industry, I was able to understand where they were coming from. I was able to see them as people with hopes and dreams, passions and flaws, strengths and vulnerabilities. After a while, it was impossible to tell if there were “good guys” and “bad guys” in the overall story of Alberta. The classic plot of “rich villains with their hands in the tar sands” versus “the little guys trying to fight back” seemed too simplistic to be true. There were so many different actors involved, so many shades of grey, and so many systemic issues that influenced the fate of the rich and the poor, the people and the environment, alike.

The other story that began to emerge for me was one of my own connection with the many different people I was meeting and greeting. I had a profound sense of connection with my fellow cyclists, watching the thoughts, ideas, feelings, challenges, laughter and pain circulate between us as if we were one soul in many bodies. But I was also connected with Alberta, with the landscape, and with the double-edge sword of the oil industry. More than ever, I noticed my own role in the industry as a consumer, as someone who rides in cars and buses and planes or even on the plastic saddle of a bike. I realized I was part of the same system that is operating throughout Alberta. Indirectly, I am benefiting from the convenience that oil and oil products bring to modern life. Indirectly, also, I have a hand in the destruction of the forests and the pollution of air and water that result from extraction of oil.

The “To The Tar Sands” bike trip was a chance for me to experience the power of stories to transform relationships, perspectives, and ideas about ourselves and how we see ourselves in the world. To have done it on a bike was a huge luxury: having to slow down; having to obey the needs of the body; having to bow to the powers of nature and elements of weather; having to make friends with my own strengths and weaknesses; having to learn to travel with others and to travel alone; best of all, having hours and hours and hours to let my mind wander from story to story to story.

See our website www.tothetarsands.ca for some of the words, sounds and images we were able to catch on the trip, and to participate in the story exchange on our society’s relationship with oil.

Aftab Erfan is an environmental planner with Jacques Whitford Consulting. She has been involved with the youth environmental movement for the past eight years and is a proud graduate of the Envision Halifax Leadership Program.