Boom or Bust: Exploring the remains of a massive work camp.
Room with a view.
If you have followed my adventures over the years, you might have noticed a trend in the history of industrial sites scattered across Canada. Many of these locations shaped who we are as a country but sadly ended up in the “Boom or Bust” category.
Usually, there is a demand for a resource. In return, many “instant towns” and work camps were built to accommodate these needs. The unfortunate part about this mentality is there isn’t any guaranteed security in longevity. I worked in mining for period of time and know this all too well.
The fate of such sites will sometimes end up as the one shown here in the photos. Picked raw, down to the bones - with nothing more than an empty shell of what it used to be.
The nearby community has had its fair share of struggles due to mine closures but have adapted the best they can to diversify their resources; to secure a prosperous future: Which is why this camp is a bit of an enigma.
The camp covered a massive area in the woods.
When I Initially came across its existence, I couldn’t believe a camp of its size was still standing – Canadian winters are incredibly harsh and tend to flatten everything in their wake, especially when heat and power have been taken out of the equation. After a quick google search, the camp came up almost instantly – the odd bit; it was showing as still an active site taking reservations! I could assume, this place of rest in the wilderness was forgotten about and neglected by the property management team, physically and digitally.
It was going to be a long day, six hours up – three to four hours of exploration and six hours back home. So as most adventures fulminate in this hobby; the next 48hrs were a mad rush of planning. And within that same weekend I was on the road to British Columbia.
Through the looking glass.
The drive up was incredibly scenic – and I found a very interesting, abandoned church (more on that later) on the way up. The logging roads were well maintained and the Tacoma chewed up the miles and spit out dust. With the early 3am start creeping into my conciseness – I round a corner and saw a gap in the woods; just like that I was there.
It’s always a rush to find a site online and then to stand in front of what you so dearly hoped was still intact. The camp was massive but clearly stripped out and picked clean by scrappers. It was serenely quiet, with the odd logging truck roaring by – the wind howling through the broken windows and ricocheting into swaying sheet metal siding; created the perfect orchestration of abandoned ambiance.
From the documents I saw scattered around what was once the main office, the camp came to fruition sometime in 2005. Millions of dollars must have been spent to develop the land; with the camp sparing no expense either.
At one point it boasted 193 rooms, Recreational area, exercise room, helipad, and a fueling station. From the photos I found online of its previous life; it must have been a pleasure to head back to this beautiful location after a long day of work.
The reasoning for closure remains a mystery on this end; but sometime in 2015 it closed its doors for good. The afternoon was blazing hot, and the bugs were out in full force when I heard a vehicle approaching. A kind looking man in a large GMC pickup approached and looked to shocked to see someone with a camera wandering around. “My daughter worked here for a year and said it was a great camp, so much was left behind I think they were hoping to re-open when things turned around. It was fully stocked with all the amenities, but just within a year – it was picked clean by vandals.” He wished me luck in my drive back home and waved as the truck pulled off site.
Little did I know – within the last hour of my time here I was about to encounter the most dangerous aspect of this hobby: The human element.
Close encounter of the Scrapper kind:
Looking at the clock, I had roughly an hour to wrap up my drone shots before hitting the long road home. Everything was looking good for a perfect flight, the intensity of the sun had waned, the wind calmed – all systems go for lift off! As the drone was going through its checks a black dodge pickup approached where I was standing on the east side of the camp. Two older gentlemen drove up and started asking the usual questions: where are you from? Why are you here? Whats with the camera gear? Clearly locals that weren’t expecting to have a visitor on site.
“Just documenting the place and having a look around, not here to bother anybody.”
The answer seemed to satisfy the duo – and they took off to the west side of the property.
I found a large stump on the north side of the property to set up shop and within minutes the drone took the sky. I circled the old equipment and came around the building from the south main entrance – and that’s when I saw it; the two men had backed their truck up to one of the trailers and were tossing in old TVs and plywood into the back at a furious pace. As the drone flew it spooked the two – and within a moment they were back in their truck roaring up to me.
They slammed on the brakes ten yards out and came out stomping, huffing and puffing still exhausted from their previous endeavors. “What the fuck are you doing recording us? I didn’t consent to any of that – I want to see your god damn drone right now!” They were pissed – and didn’t understand, I couldn’t give two shits about them and their efforts – I just wanted some great aerial photography of the camp.
I stood up and pointed to the sky, my thumb lowered the drone, so it was now on all of three us – I then proceeded to tell the biggest lie I have ever mustered to get out of a potentially serious encounter. “Listen, I’m not here to record you – I don’t give two shits about you guys and what your motives are. But hear me out clearly, everything that I am recording right now is being live streamed online – so think carefully about how you handle what comes next.”
It took a moment for them to register the information – but it was incredible to see their demeanor do a complete 180. The two backed off and started probing with a less threatening tone: “so how does it fly, for how long? Can you show us the photos you took?”
Fake smiles among the clear panic heard in their voices. I obliged one request and showed them the drone photos I took before the video was captured. They seemed to understand finally I wasn’t a threat and retreated to the truck. “Please don’t post what we did online publicly.” Were there last words. I gave them a short nod and let out a sigh of relief as the truck pulled away, leaving a small cloud of dust that finally settled along with my nerves.
I laughed and started making my way back to the truck; I got lucky. The encounter could have been completely different and to be frank - violent; quick thinking and calm demeanor seemed to triumph the moment.
I was exhausted and I had another six-hour drive to get back home; but the adventure wasn’t ready to end just yet, there was still one last little cherry on the cake I needed to see before heading homeward bound.
The Church with the Broken Back:
On the way home I passed the small indigenous community of Kelly Lake. It was a sleepy community; the kind you could drive by and never take notice of – that were true if it didn’t have a unique building on its way to the grave. Sitting on the last corner out of town was a tiny church. From what I could find, if it was the original structure – the catholic place of worship was built around 1939 and named “the church of St. Anne.”
Snapped right in half.
As you can see by the photos, its back broke and the building completely collapsed into itself. With the walls blown out – its hard to pinpoint exactly what happened. The exterior was still in great shape, with all the contents still inside. In all its absurdity, the altar remained intact and sat sadly amongst the decrepit pews.
From what I can make out on google maps the church has since been demolished. Scrolling further west, most of the work camp has befallen the same fate. The road ahead seemed to stretched on for eternity – but this incredible solo adventure would last on my list as a personal favorite for years to come.
