One year ago, wildfires decimated Nopiming Provincial Park in eastern Manitoba, torching cottaging communities, backcountry campgrounds and popular canoe routes.

But as the park and its boreal ecosystem recovers — a process that will take several decades — Manitoba Wilderness Committee campaigner Eric Reder believes the province should embrace the opportunity to curtail industrial activities within park borders and establish more robust protection for its natural and recreational assets.

“The Nopiming Provincial Park that existed prior to 2025 is gone,” a Wilderness Committee report released Thursday said. “Only an all-of-society recovery solution can bring back what we’ve lost.”

To the Wilderness Committee, that whole-of-society solution involves a moratorium on new industrial activities, a commitment to conserve habitat for local caribou herds, increased engagement with First Nations whose lands overlap the park and investment in recreational infrastructure, including backcountry trails and canoe routes. 

“Doing so will allow the park to serve both nature and people,” the report said. “Manitoba’s outdoor way of life is at stake.”

Meanwhile, the province says it is “currently focused on immediate wildfire recovery needs such as restoring access and services, and on prioritizing initiatives like FireSmart with park users.” Restoration activities in the park are ongoing, a provincial spokesperson said in an email statement, and the province is “actively listening to input from many sources, including park users, residents, cottagers and environmental groups.”

Wildfire engulfed most of Nopiming Provincial Park and burned an area almost 8 times the size of Winnipeg

Nopiming Park’s 1,400-odd square kilometres of Canadian Shield are part of the world’s largest intact boreal forest and home to the province’s southernmost boreal caribou herd. The park features winding rivers popular with canoeists, placid lakes full of wild rice, tamarack bogs and lichen-coated rock outcroppings. 

It boasts a handful of designated campgrounds and backcountry trails, as well as several cottage subdivisions with a mix of permanent and seasonal residents. 

Nopiming Park also hosts hundreds of mineral claims staked by companies seeking gold and lithium, and is home to the Canadian Forces School of Survival and Aeromedical Training.

Much of that infrastructure has been damaged.

A lightning strike near the Bird River sparked the first fire on May 12, 2025. Over more than 200 days it grew to more than 3,500 square kilometres — almost eight times the size of Winnipeg — and engulfed the vast majority of the park. 

Park residents were evacuated for several weeks, some unable to return until late July. According to the provincial spokesperson, 21 cottages within the park were lost, a campground office near Black Lake was destroyed, several canoe routes were affected, trailhead facilities were destroyed and many remote campsites lost infrastructure such as bear boxes, picnic tables and fire pits. 

The military training site was evacuated, too, and several of its “administrative and storage structures … were subsequently damaged or destroyed,” according to a brief prepared for the Minister of National Defence in May 2025. 

While some campgrounds and trails re-opened this month, several backcountry campsites, trails and water routes remain closed until restoration work is complete.

“Nopiming Provincial Park visitors can expect a mix of reopenings and closures through the summer season as recovery work continues,” the provincial spokesperson said.

‘A park needs time to recover’: conservation advocate

After visiting Nopiming Park late last summer, Reder said he was struck by the extent of the damage to his familiar canoe routes and picnic spots.

“The ground was still smoking,” he said in an interview. “The thing that really struck me was that the fire was more comprehensive than we’re used to seeing.” 

Few pockets of boreal forest were unscathed by the burn, especially in what Reder calls “the wild heart” of the forest, which has long served as critical habitat for a herd of vulnerable boreal caribou. The threatened species relies on dense, treed areas for shelter and protection from predators, and are known to avoid clearcuts and disturbances. 

With so much of the forest destroyed, Reder’s biggest concern is protecting the habitat that remains.

“A park needs time to recover,” he said. “Stop the mineral exploration, get the military out of there … a couple of these recommendations are pretty straightforward ways to give peace to the park.” 

To limit further disturbance to sensitive, recovering vegetation, the committee recommends a moratorium on new industrial activity permits, and a permanent end to military training exercises. It also recommends limiting motorized activity such as all-terrain vehicles and outboard motors until caribou habitat use is better understood. 

An opportunity to rebuild — and prioritize recreation and nature

Reder said the fires also present an opportunity to restore the park in a way that prioritizes its recreational potential.

As the park rebuilds, the committee recommends more integration with the local Indigenous communities, including signage and programming produced in collaboration with First Nations that discusses the land’s traditional uses and history. It also recommends the province invest in “people-powered” recreational infrastructure, including trails, canoe routes and wayside stops.

Reder points to the government’s recent decision to re-open fire-damaged portions of the backcountry Mantario Trail, just south of Nopiming, as an example. The province had previously planned to keep the trail closed this summer, but has since announced it could re-open by the end of June as more than 500 volunteers have made “remarkable progress” restoring trail infrastructure. 

“The idea that Nopiming … should have a backcountry route, probably should get into people’s heads right now,” Reder said, adding the increased visibility following the fire has made it easier to plan possible trails. 

For cottages, the report recommends investing in FireSmart programs and limiting the size of human infrastructure to reduce potential losses from fire. 

“All recommendations will be considered as the province works to restore this beautiful area, and considers opportunities for post-fire recovery along with future enhancements and management opportunities,” the provincial spokesperson said.

Julia-Simone Rutgers is a reporter covering environmental issues in Manitoba. Her position is part of a partnership between The Narwhal and the Winnipeg Free Press.

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

Canada’s vast landscape, which boasts 20 per cent of the world’s fresh water, a quarter of global wetlands and 28 per cent of its boreal forests, is critical to its economy. Natural resource industries — forests, farms, fisheries, mining and oil and gas — together make up approximately seven per cent of Canada’s gross domestic product. 

Tension exists between expanding these industrialized sectors and protecting the ecosystems on which they depend. In Manitoba, some worry protecting the Seal River Watershed, which spans more than 50,000 square kilometres in the province’s north, will hinder opportunities in mineral resources and hydro; to the east, critical mineral mining ambitions in Ontario’s Ring of Fire clash with the protection of the Hudson and James Bay Lowlands, the second-largest carbon sink on earth; and in B.C., Coastal First Nations have protested that lifting the large tanker ban through their waters will endanger the protected Great Bear Rainforest.

These tensions make it easy to frame nature as the antithesis of economic activity, if it’s always put in opposition to projects that are described as growing Canada’s wealth, sovereignty and security. But a growing chorus of economic and policy leaders, alongside conservation groups, are making the case for nature to be seen as a critical financial asset — not a barrier, but another opportunity for economic growth. 

The federal government’s vision for conservation, laid out in its 2026 nature strategy, is of a nation that “protects, restores, and values nature as a foundation of our economy, sovereignty, and well-being.” 

One of the pillars to achieving that vision is “valuing nature and mobilizing capital,” according to the strategy. It estimated the value of “ecosystem services” — the direct and indirect contributions of nature to well-being and quality of life — to be $3.6 trillion, or “more than double our 2018 GDP.” In other words, the government is looking to spur more private sector investment in conservation by showing businesses how valuable nature is to their bottom lines.

The numbers show conservation is comparable with many of Canada’s major industries. While it may not produce the same scale of economic value as major resource extraction sectors like oil and gas — which does not approach the value of sectors like health care or education — it is a significant contributor to Canada’s economy. And the return on investment is high: a recent analysis by the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society (CPAWS) found every dollar spent on protected areas generated more than $3.50 in visitor spending, helping fuel local economies and generate government revenues. 

Like the oil and gas sector, Canada can choose to invest in the potential of conservation and champion it as a cornerstone of our country’s economic future. And as Canadians grapple with the increasingly severe impacts of the climate crisis, the role of intact ecosystems becomes even more valuable. 

These nine charts capture some of the value of Canada’s natural environments, and the economic potential of conservation.

Economic contributions from protected areas — by province

Gross domestic product (GDP) contributions of selected Canadian industries

How are the industries defined?+

Statistics Canada tracks economic activity indicators for a wide range of sectors using the North American Industry Classification System (NAICS), which assigns a code to specific activities and sectors. Industries and government agencies tally these statistics in different ways to determine overall sector impacts. 

This analysis uses Statistics Canada’s data, and defines each industry as follows:

Agriculture: Crop and animal production (farming), related support activities and food manufacturing, including mills, bakeries, meat and dairy production.

Fisheries: Aquaculture, fishing, hunting and trapping and seafood product preparation.

Forestry: Forestry and logging, related support activities, wood and paper product manufacturing. 

Mining: Mineral mining (ore, non-metals, potash) and quarrying activities, including related support. Also includes mineral product manufacturing and metal manufacturing. 

Oil and gas: Oil and gas extraction and related support activities, petroleum and coal product manufacturing, natural gas distribution and pipelines.

Transportation: Air, rail, water, truck and transit and ground transportation (including public transit and taxis). 

Utilities: Electric power generation, transmission and distribution and water and sewage systems.

Jobs and compensation

More than 150,000 people work in protected and conserved areas — not far behind the oil and gas and forestry sectors. As the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society points out, many of these jobs are in Indigenous, rural and remote communities, where unemployment rates are high compared to urban areas. In parts of Canada where other economic opportunities are scarce, protected and conserved areas offer the opportunity to create long-term stable employment. 

Conservation provides value, but how are conservation workers valued? Compensation for the approximately 150,000 Canadians who work in protected areas is low, compared to other sectors; on average, an oil and gas worker makes nearly four times as much annually. 

Tax revenues and subsidies

Governments collected more than $1.4 billion in tax revenues from parks and protected areas in 2024, most of which stemmed from visitor spending, according to the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society’s analysis. That’s comparable to government tax revenues from the forestry industry, at $1.2 billion. Major resource industries like forestry and oil and gas also create government revenue through royalties and other fees. 

But for many of these industries, government revenues can be offset by tax breaks, grants and other subsidies.

Governments invested $2.3 billion in parks and protected spaces in 2024, generating $0.62 in revenue for every dollar invested. By comparison, the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) estimates the federal government spent $3.17 billion USD (or $4.34 billion CAD) on fossil fuel subsidies — almost $1 billion USD more than the United States spent on subsidies, despite their industry’s far greater output. That number is likely an underestimate, as a lack of clear data and complex incentive structures make it difficult to track how much governments give out to industry. 

Environmental Defence, which releases an annual report tracking Canadian fossil fuel subsidies, estimates the government doled out more than $30 billion in subsidies and financing to fossil fuel companies in 2024. Most of that funding came in the form of a $20-billion loan for the Trans Mountain Expansion project. 

Carbon storage

The Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society estimated the carbon stocks stored in Canada’s existing protected areas by comparing protected area boundaries to data showing the carbon concentration in soil, vegetated areas and seabed sediments. 

It found a total 51.4 gigatons of carbon stored in the country’s protected forests, peatlands, wetlands, soil and seabeds. 

If this carbon was all emitted as carbon dioxide, the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society estimates, it would equate to 188.4 gigatons of emissions. 

By protecting these regions from industrial disturbances like mining, logging or draining, that carbon stays in the ground. If released, that carbon comes at a cost. 

Canada’s industrial carbon price, which charges businesses for emissions that exceed a predetermined limit, is $110 per tonne as of 2026. A carbon credit — doled out for activities that remove or avoid carbon emissions — is worth the same.

At that price, the carbon stored in Canada’s protected areas is worth $20.7 trillion. 

That’s about 10 times the value of Canada’s global mining assets ($352.6 billion), global energy assets ($827 billion) and domestic farm sector assets ($992.4 billion) combined.

Annual carbon capture

Protected and conserved areas remove greenhouse gases from the atmosphere, a process known as “carbon capture.” Manitoba’s Riding Mountain National Park, for example, removed an average of 108,328 tonnes of carbon dioxide per year from the atmosphere between 1990 and 2020. This is significantly less than Shell’s Quest carbon capture and storage project, but it’s also just one of hundreds of parks and protected areas across Canada.

Most parks, like the ones included in this chart, are sequestering carbon each year. However, when parks or protected areas are hit by wildfires, they can become carbon emitters.

– With files from Michelle Cyca

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

Seven years after a coalition of four northern Manitoba First Nations banded together to conserve the province’s last major undammed river, the Seal River Watershed is now “on the cusp” of permanent protection.

On Friday, the Seal River Watershed Alliance, the province and the federal government released a joint proposal to designate the 50,000-square-kilometre ecosystem — one of the world’s largest intact watersheds — as an Indigenous Protected and Conserved Area.

“This announcement is an absolutely historic moment in time where we have all different levels of government [and] … the nations coming together to preserve some of the most beautiful areas in the world,” Manitoba Environment Minister Mike Moyes said Friday. 

“I am so proud to be part of a government that is moving forward on this historic agreement that is going to protect seven per cent of Manitoba.” 

The proposal recommends creating a “mosaic” of national and provincial parks across the region, including a national park on the eastern third of the watershed and a new Indigenous traditional-use provincial park on the western two-thirds.

To accommodate a new national park, the proposal recommends adjusting the boundaries of the three existing wilderness parks, Nueltin Lake, Caribou River and Sand Lakes, and transferring about 18,500 square kilometres of predominantly Crown lands to the federal government. 

The mosaic approach would allow for a variety of economic activities including tourism, recreation and traditional harvesting practices, the proposal says. A little under half of the national park would remain open for licensed hunting and outfitting for 10 years as a “transitional measure,” while hunting, outfitting “and the full range of outdoor activities that typically occur in Manitoba’s provincial parks would continue to be permitted in the new provincial park.”

Industrial activities like mining, hydroelectric developments and forestry would be barred throughout the protected region. Future land management decisions would be made by a joint management board elected by leadership from all parties, the proposal says.

Alongside the proposal — which is open for public comments through EngageMB — the province announced a $4-million endowment contribution to support long-term operational funding for the project. 

“We are celebrating major new investments in the Seal River Watershed, we are sharing a proposal for protecting these lands and waters for all people, and we are breaking trail for what protected areas in the province can look like,” Stephanie Thorassie, executive director of the Seal River Watershed Alliance, said Friday. 

“It’s inspiring to see you standing side by side and talking about our work together. You are showing the world what nation-to-nation-to-nation partnership looks like — not just in words, but in action.”

The Alliance, made up of members from the Sayisi Dene, Northlands Denesuline, Barren Lands and O-Pipon-Na-Piwin Cree Nations, formed in 2019. By 2022, it had secured a commitment from provincial and federal governments to explore a protected area in the region.

It took two years — and a change of government — for the parties to sign a memorandum of understanding agreeing to move forward with a feasibility study for the protected area, and to temporarily ban mining in the region. The study was completed in early 2025, concluding that an Indigenous-led protected area was feasible, and would come with ecological, cultural and economic benefits.

The watershed is wintering habitat for scores of caribou and home to more than 30 species at risk, including polar bears, wolverines, belugas and lake sturgeon. The landscape itself stores 1.7 billion tonnes of carbon, equivalent to about eight years’ worth of total greenhouse gas emissions in Canada.

Tourism in the region generates about $11 million in revenues per year, according to the feasibility study, and the Alliance has already created about two dozen jobs for community members and youth. 

“This is a practical, community-driven approach. It protects the land and supports opportunities for the future, from land-based education and sustainable tourism, to jobs that keep people rooted in their home,” Rebecca Chartrand, Minister of Northern and Arctic Affairs and member of Parliament for Churchill—Keewatinook Aski, said Friday. 

In late March, the federal government released its $3.8-billion nature protection strategy, which included a commitment of $74.7 million over 11 years and nearly $8 million in ongoing funding to support the Seal River protected area. 

“The investments announced today will create more opportunities for these youth, opportunities to find jobs and stewardship and tourism, to gain knowledge and training and to feel pride in who they are and the work that they do,” Sayisi Dene Chief Kelly-Ann Thom-Duck said Friday. 

The proposal is now open for public consultation. Manitobans have until June 2 to submit feedback on the plan through the province’s EngageMB portal, including the proposed boundary changes to existing provincial parks and the transfer of Crown land to the federal government for a new national park. 

Public feedback will be shared with the Alliance and Parks Canada to help inform next steps.

“We think this is a very important way to have a safe, clean and healthy environment, to support Indigenous cultures and also to open up new tourist opportunities for Manitobans and Canadians,” Manitoba Premier Wab Kinew said Friday.

Julia-Simone Rutgers is a reporter covering environmental issues in Manitoba. Her position is part of a partnership between The Narwhal and the Winnipeg Free Press.

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

Summary

• The All-season Resorts Act was passed in late 2024 and the related policies released in late 2025.
• The act gives the tourism minister, who has been mandated to grow tourism revenue to $25 billion by 2035, the authority to designate land for resort development.
• Critics say the new system removes guardrails and increases risks to the environment.

In Alberta, there are growing concerns about new legislation that seeks to fast-track and expand tourism in the Rocky Mountains — which critics say comes with a huge environmental cost.

In late 2025, the Alberta government released new details about how its controversial All-season Resorts Act will play out. At the same time, it announced the first all-season resort areas, all of which are in the Rocky Mountains.

These areas are chunks of land with a new status allowing developers to apply to build year-round recreation destinations through a fast-tracked process.

The Alberta government says all-season resorts are a “key component” for the Tourism Ministry to reach its goal of growing tourism revenues to $25 billion by 2035. It says the new processes increase investor confidence and offer “tailored support to the resort development industry.”  

Critics say the rules mean developers can circumvent and undermine environmental laws.Here’s what you need to know.

1. The All-season Resorts Act gives the tourism minister decision-making power on some large-scale recreation projects

In Alberta, the All-season Resorts Act, passed in late 2024, makes it easier to build large-scale, year-round tourism projects on Crown land by moving approvals for these projects into the Ministry of Tourism and Sport. 

Previously, developments that raised environmental concerns would be regulated through multiple laws. They would also be reviewed by an arm of the Alberta government called the Natural Resources Conservation Board. 

The board typically reviews whether projects that require environmental impact assessments under the Environmental Protection and Enhancement Act are in the public interest, like the Three Sisters development in Canmore; or some mining, quarry or dam projects. 

Under the all-season resorts umbrella, the Ministry of Tourism and Sport gets the final say on projects, which critics say lacks the same standards of environmental review.  

It’s a system University of Calgary law professor Shaun Fluker describes as a “fiefdom of the minister.”

“There are no guardrails,” he said.

2. The Tourism Ministry has a 150-day window for approving new resort proposals

The first step toward a new resort proposal being fast-tracked through the All-season Resorts Act is a land-use change. 

Land is selected by the government to be designated as a new kind of public lands zone called an “all-season resorts area.” Before that designation, the ministry is meant to do Indigenous consultation and public engagement on the land-use changes.  

After land is designated, a developer can submit something called an “expression of interest” to signal they want to apply to develop a resort within that area. 

With the go-ahead from the Tourism Ministry, a developer submits an application, including a master development plan; environmental assessment; business and capital investment plans;  proposed approaches to landscape compatibility and integrating the resort into nearby municipalities. They have to identify constraints and “any other information as required.” 

At this stage, the developer also has to carry out public engagement and consultation

with Indigenous communities on the development plan. Once the ministry decides an application is complete, a decision is made within 150 days. 

With the green light from the Tourism Ministry, construction can start.

3. Land can be removed from provincial parks to build resorts

Three all-season resort areas were designated in December 2025 under the act and, perhaps confusingly, named after the resorts there: Fortress, Nakiska and Castle All-season Resort Areas. The first two are in Kananaskis Country and the third is near Waterton Lakes National Park. 

All three areas already offer winter activities, to varying degrees. After land is designated under the act, developers are able to apply to build or expand into as an all-season resort.

Fortress is the only area with a development application underway — an expansion of the existing ski resort that could bring in nearly 10,000 additional daily visitors.

A fourth area, Silvertip Gondola, largely in Bow Valley Wildland Provincial Park overlooking the town of Canmore, is in review to become a designated all-seasons resort area. The designation would require a change in park boundaries and an amendment to the South Saskatchewan Regional Plan, the land use framework for the region.  

To make way for these resort areas, some provincial parkland has already been shifted out of protected status. That includes 131 hectares of parkland that has lost its protected status to make way for Fortress, according to an analysis from the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society. 

A Ministry of Tourism and Sport spokesperson told CBC the government conducted public and Indigenous consultation in 2023 about year-round resorts more broadly and “found strong support for the designations.” Critics say the decision to remove land from parks happened without public consultation. 

“It’s a little bit of the fox watching the hen house,” Katie Morrison, executive director of the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society Southern Alberta chapter, said.

4. Experts say the whole approval process is fast-tracked

The All-season Resorts Act passed in December 2024. The first three areas were designated in December 2025, at the same time the official policy was released. 

In January, Fortress was the first to apply with a project proposal, a year-round resort in Kananaskis. The development would bring roughly 10,000 daily visitors to a water-sensitive region home to sensitive wildlife and already under strain from tourism.  

Morrison, of the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society, said the entire legislative process, from tabling the act to implementation, including 150-day statutory timelines for decisions on applications, has been rushed. And rushing, she said, doesn’t make sense here. 

“Some of the reasons we have had delays in approval on these things is because this is a really complex landscape,” she said.

5. The environmental assessment for the first development application under the act is not ‘credible,’ according to experts

The Fortress proposal includes an environmental assessment Morrison calls “woefully inadequate” for assessing impacts. 

Fluker, the law professor, said the inadequacy of the assessment “undermines the whole approval process.” 

“No credible impact assessment process would take that as a final submission because there’s really nothing usable in it,” Fluker said.  

Though the proposal raises questions around water use in drought-stricken southern Alberta, the environmental assessment does not address where more water would come from, just that it may be required. 

“That is exactly the kind of issue or topic that a credible impact assessment process grapples [with],” Fluker said.

For its part, Fortress says the project team is dedicated to sustainability. “We aim to be the most water-efficient resort in Alberta,” project director Danielle Vlemmiks said in response to The Narwhal’s questions over email.

An assessment should put forth enough data for experts to evaluate the potential impacts of a project and come up with solutions, Fluker said. With this assessment, he said, “I don’t know how anybody could do that.” 

The Alberta government did not respond to detailed questions from The Narwhal.

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

Summary

• A shuttered resort in Kananaskis Country could size up and reopen, with plans to build 1,400 parking spots, mountain coasters, minigolf and space for nearly 10,000 visitors a day.
• The location has been designated under Alberta’s All-season Resorts Act, which aims to speed up approvals for tourism projects.
• Experts are concerned the project, the size of a small city, will consume huge amounts of water in a region already dealing with drought.

Hidden amongst the sprawling, rugged network of public land, protected areas and provincial parks 125 kilometres west of Calgary, scattered, partially boarded up buildings sit below mountain peaks. They are the relics of the once-vibrant Fortress Mountain Resort. 

Now the company behind the on-again, off-again ski resort is applying under the All-season Resorts Act to build out its aged resort as a much-expanded four-season destination.

But when Fortress Mountain Resort unveiled its redevelopment plan in January, many were left with more questions than answers, particularly when it comes to the water supply for thousands of visitors to a drought-stricken region. 

“I don’t understand where that water’s going to come from,” Bob Sandford, senior government relations liaison with the United Nations University Institute for Water, Environment and Health, said in an interview with The Narwhal. 

The resort would welcome nearly 10,000 additional daily visitors to Kananaskis Country at its peak, which Sandford compared to the development of a small city. 

“A town the size that they’re developing, that water footprint’s really heavy,” he said. “What are the downstream effects going to be?”

The proposed expansion is a far cry from the old days of Fortress. When the resort first opened in 1967 under the name Snowridge, the lodge could accommodate 140 overnight guests. Six condos were built in 1976.

The ski hill operated for decades, changing hands multiple times before closing to the public one last time in 2006. 

Now, Alberta’s 2024 All-season Resorts Act is giving it new life. The Alberta government says the act helps to grow the tourism industry, “strengthen investor confidence” and offer “tailored support to the resort development industry.” The Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society says the act means resorts can circumvent and undermine environmental laws. Under the act, areas are designated for streamlined approval for tourism projects.

Fortress is hoping to develop in one of three areas that were designated under the act in December. A fourth is under review. 

The five-phase vision for Fortress includes up to 9,650 day-visitors by completion and 1,500 employees, plus overnight visitors and staff in 2,500 on-site units that would be a mix of tourist accommodation, real estate and employee housing, along with at least 1,400 parking stalls. It would take 15 years to complete. 

Designating the Fortress site for an all-season resort required the removal of 131 hectares from provincial parkland, according to an analysis from the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society.

The resort will include activities like electric all-terrain vehicles, mountain biking, minigolf, two “mountain coasters” (bobsled-like roller coasters), zip lining and more, along with infrastructure for more than 12 ski lifts, including five gondolas and five chairlifts. 

It’s what Katie Morrison, the executive director of the southern Alberta chapter of the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society, describes as an “amusement park” in an area of ecological importance for sensitive wildlife like grizzly bears, wolverines and bull trout — all in an area already under strain from tourism.

For its part, Fortress says the project team is dedicated to sustainability.

“We aim to be the most water-efficient resort in Alberta,” project director Danielle Vlemmiks said in response to The Narwhal’s questions over email.

Vlemmiks said, should the resort decide to make snow in later phases, Fortress plans to use grey water for snowmaking, something done at other resorts, and is planning activities that do not require large water use.

But that doesn’t quell concerns from environmental advocates who have long been ringing alarm bells over tourism development in the Rockies — an area where wildlife habitat and headwaters are already under threat from clear-cutting, coal mining and more.

So, when Fortress released its plan in January, it was a “worst-case scenario,” Morrison said.

Resort act a ‘regulatory failure’: lawyer

The Fortress proposal and water use is a good example of the All-season Resorts Act’s shortcomings, University of Calgary law professor Shaun Fluker said in an interview with The Narwhal.

Under the act, decision-making power for some large-scale recreation projects has been given to the Tourism Ministry, which has set a goal to grow tourism revenues to $25 billion by 2035. It’s a system Fluker describes as a “fiefdom of the minister.”  

“There are no guardrails,” he said.

The All-season Resorts Act establishes a new kind of zone, an “all-season resort area,” which can be created by the tourism minister. After an area has been designated under the act, a developer can then submit an application for a proposed development, including an environmental assessment it has contracted. The proposal must also undergo a minimum 30-day public consultation and an Indigenous consultation period. The Tourism Ministry makes a decision within 150 days of the application being complete. 

Morrison said the entire legislative process, from tabling the act to implementing it, has been rushed. And she noted the decision-making power lies with the same ministry mandated to increase tourism development, which she says is problematic, particularly under a fast timeline. 

“It’s a little bit of the fox watching the hen house,” Morrison said. “Some of the reasons we have had delays in approval on these things is because this is a really complex landscape.”

As it stands, Morrison said, the environmental assessment Fortress supplied as part of its application lacks critical information, and is “woefully inadequate” in addressing the potential impacts of the development. Bull trout, a threatened species in Alberta, have specifically been “completely ignored” by the report, she said, as has information needed to understand the impacts of the development on wildlife, aquatic ecosystems and water use in the region.

Fluker said the inadequacy of the assessment, which every expert in this story agreed lacked information for decision-making, “undermines the whole approval process.” 

“No credible impact assessment process would take that as a final submission because there’s really nothing usable in it,” he said. 

As a requirement, an assessment should put forth enough data for experts to evaluate the potential impacts of a project and come up with solutions. 

With this assessment, he said, “I don’t know how anybody could do that.” 

Details like how much water the resort would need to operate are currently being studied, Vlemmiks said. But, because Fortress is planning to be as economical with its water use as possible, the needs of the development will have to align with the project design, which will not be finalized for some time.

According to the assessment, and confirmed by Vlemmiks, Fortress has enough water for phase one of its five-phase plan, which anticipates 3,000 day-use visitors. Beyond that, more water may be required. 

According to a briefing note from the Tourism Ministry dated June 19, 2025, and obtained through a freedom of information request, the government is well aware of concerns with how the act will deal with water issues in particular. 

“[The Ministry of Environment and Protected Areas] has previously raised concerns about how [all-season resorts] will align with water management priorities, especially in light of recent droughts in southern Alberta,” the note reads. 

But, it adds, “these concerns are addressed” through a system where Tourism and Sport will share water management responsibilities at resorts alongside the Environment Ministry. 

The system is a red flag to Fluker.

Concerns should be brought to and evaluated by an independent board of scientific experts, he said. (The Alberta government did not respond to detailed questions from The Narwhal.)

“That is exactly the kind of issue or topic that a credible impact assessment process grapples [with],” he said. 

Morrison agrees, adding she was surprised water didn’t play a bigger role in the proposal — especially given Fortress’s history with water use.

Water from resort is currently sold as bottled ‘glacier water’

Alberta is in a multi-year drought, with conditions across the province ranging from “abnormally dry” to “severe drought.” Forty water shortage advisories were posted in April 2026. But southern Alberta has a long, complex history with drought and water management, including in Kananskis Country.

Alberta has seen two or three seasons of significant water shortage in the last 20 years, Cathy Ryan, a University of Calgary professor in earth, energy and environment, said. 

In times of drought, the main concerns are increased wildfires and sufficient water supply — for residents, visitors and ecosystems, Ryan said.

Water supply is managed by the province through a licence system that grants users the right to divert water whether from below ground or from rivers, lakes or streams.

Fortress is part of the vast Bow River Basin — which is itself within the South Saskatchewan River Basin drainage area. The Bow River flows through Banff National Park and eventually merges with the Oldman River to form the South Saskatchewan River. From there, it moves across the Prairies toward Medicine Hat in southern Alberta and beyond. 

The sale of new water licences in the South Saskatchewan River Basin, where Fortress is located, has been prohibited since 2006. But Fortress Mountain Holdings has two licences, one of which is for potable water. 

In 2019, Fortress was given the green light to sell half of the 98,700 cubic metres, or just under 40 Olympic swimming pools, of its potable water licence commercially. The change was opposed by environmental groups and lawyers and was challenged — unsuccessfully — by Stoney Nakoda First Nation in court in 2020. Canned water from Fortress is now sold as rök Glacier Water.

Should the resort proposal be approved, Vlemmiks said Fortress will cease commercial water sales.

She said the company plans to create a closed-loop system on site. That could include geothermal heat, greywater-supplied snowmaking and reusing water, though she did not provide any further details.

Vlemmiks also said Fortress is exploring a partnership with Stoney Nakoda First Nation to supply and manage water for subsequent phases, and is currently undergoing an Indigenous consultation process. Stoney Nakoda First Nation did not respond to a request for comment.  

“We are actively pursuing answers,” Vlemmiks said. 

But critics warn even the best-laid plans are subject to a changing climate — and declining water resources.

 Concerns about water shortages in Kananaskis Country

When it comes to divvying up water, Cathy Ryan from the University of Calgary said it’s been managed so far by “playing nicely in the sandbox.” But in the event of a shortage, the government can step in to manage water supply.

It’s happened more than once in the last 20 years. Most recently, in April 2024, Alberta instituted water-sharing agreements, where 38 of the largest water-licence holders — making up 90 per cent of the Bow and Oldman basins and 70 per cent in the Red Deer basin — agreed to voluntarily reduce water use if severe drought conditions developed due to several dry seasons and an El Niño winter.  

But water-sharing agreements are voluntary. 

In 2006, more drastic measures were taken: the province stopped the sale of new water licences in the over-allocated South Saskatchewan River Basin to protect the aquatic ecosystem and ensure Alberta could meet its water-sharing obligation with neighbouring provinces.

According to the province’s online tool, the Bow River Basin, where Fortress is located, was considered in moderate drought in February. 

In January, United Nations and Global Affairs Canada released a report about water bankruptcy, defined as when sustained water withdrawal exceeds replenishment, akin to spending outpacing income. Sandford, with the United Nations water think-tank, warned southern Alberta is already headed toward water bankruptcy. 

As climate change increases temperatures and exacerbates the effects of drought, Sandford’s concerns are far-reaching.

Fortress’s proposed development will land amidst a sea of warning signs outlined in the report, Sandford said. Southern Alberta ticks every box, he added, including infrastructure, long-term over-allocation of water and what’s known as ecological liquidation, when wetlands and forests are degraded for short-term gain.

Sandford said the province needs to plan for the persistent high temperatures, extreme drought and low snowpacks it is already seeing, and the impacts. Multiple wildfires have already been reported in southern Alberta since the beginning of the year. 

And as soil moisture dries up, rain won’t have the same penetrating effects, resulting in a “vicious circle of drying out,” Sandford said.

“You’re taking away the environment’s share of water,” he said. “Even at this moment, without the projected changes that we’re seeing, I don’t think they can do this.”

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Summary

• Manitoba released its latest budget last week.
• Conservation groups released a joint statement following the budget’s release saying it does not adequately address environmental issues.
• The Manitoba government points to a new fare-free transit program for youth and an 11 per cent funding increase for the Environment Department, though advocates point out the funds are mostly for existing initiatives.

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The Manitoba government has made big promises to protect and prioritize the environment as it works to boost economic development and become a “have province.” But climate groups say the latest provincial budget, released Wednesday, has failed to deliver.

A coalition of environmental organizations including the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society (CPAWS), Manitoba Eco-Network and Climate Action Team Manitoba gave the province “a near failing grade for its lack of meaningful investment in climate action and environmental protection,” according to a Friday release.

“Manitoba’s 2026 budget and the past two budgets before it have been extremely disappointing for climate and nature,” Ron Thiessen, executive director of the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society’s Manitoba chapter, said in an interview.

“The accelerating rate of extreme wildfires that have been choking our airways show we can’t wait to reduce emissions and protect the lands that remove carbon from the air. We feel quite strongly that without very strong provincial investment in climate and environment, our well-being suffers and health-care costs will continue to rise.”

In late January, the organizations were among more than two dozen local climate, business and labour groups that presented a letter to the government calling for increased investment in energy efficiency initiatives, public and active transportation and land and water protection in this year’s budget.

While Manitoba’s Environment and Climate Change Department saw an 11 per cent funding increase, the funds are predominantly earmarked for existing initiatives, including $10 million in ongoing funding for Efficiency Manitoba’s home energy retrofit program and extending the electric vehicle rebate, which has helped more than 5,000 Manitobans switch to electric or plug-in hybrid vehicles since July 2024.

It also includes a pledge to work with the City of Winnipeg and other municipalities to make transit free for children and youth, acknowledging “public transit is a key component in our path to net zero.”

Environment and Climate Change Minister Mike Moyes said the fare-free program will cost approximately $10 million and discussions are currently underway with Manitoba municipalities including Flin Flon, Selkirk, Brandon and Winnipeg about its implementation.

“It’s something I’m hearing lots about in the community and that lots of parents are excited about, both in terms of saving money for bus passes and bus tickets, but it’s also building out the next generation of bus riders,” Moyes said in an interview.

On conservation, the budget reiterated Manitoba’s $250,000 contribution to study the feasibility of a marine conservation area in Hudson Bay as part of the Port of Churchill expansion. The budget also included a modest increase to the parks and trails budget, including $1 million to “fully staff our parks,” capital funds for upgrades at five provincial parks and disaster relief funding to rebuild wildfire-damaged campgrounds at Nopiming Provincial Park.

Environmental organizations say these investments “fall short across the board.”

“The choice to double down on balancing the budget while further cutting taxes is pushing greater climate costs and devastation onto the next generation, while missing myriad opportunities to grow low-carbon industries and jobs,” Laura Cameron, director of Climate Action Team Manitoba, said in Friday’s release.

“A climate plan without investment is simply a wish list.”

Thiessen said he applauds the province’s conservation efforts and its commitment to 30-by-30 targets — targets adopted at the 2022 United Nations Convention on Biodiversity to conserve 30 per cent of lands and waters by 2030. But a “revolutionary investment” is needed to meet that ambitious goal, Thiessen said, including a funded plan to support Indigenous communities identifying and planning new protected areas, and support for new parks and campgrounds within a 200-kilometre radius of Winnipeg.

“We’re seeing serious and accelerated new investments in development, which is much needed, however, we’re not seeing the investments in climate and conservation to balance those outcomes,” Thiessen said.

While the report card called the free youth transit program “a positive step, and a great affordability measure,” climate action groups and transit unions have been calling for the province to increase operational funding for Winnipeg Transit, and ultimately restore the 50-50 funding partnership with the municipality.

“Public transit is one of the most effective tools we have to reduce emissions and improve affordability, yet the government continues to underinvest in the services Manitobans rely on every day,” Cameron said in the release.

Asked to respond to the failing grade from environmental groups, Moyes said the province is “incredibly proud” of its climate record thus far.

“We recognize that we’ve achieved a lot, but that there’s more to do,” he said.

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Summary

• A new report says Canada is falling behind on its commitment to protect 30 per cent of lands and waters by 2030.
• That’s true in Manitoba, too, but a vast Indigenous-led conservation area proposed for the province’s north could help.
• Advocates are urging the federal government to renew conservation funding that is expiring this year, stressing the economic value of natural spaces.

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There are just four years left on the clock for Manitoba — and the rest of the country — in the race to conserve 30 per cent of lands and waters by 2030. But halfway through the timeline adopted at the United Nations Convention on Biodiversity in 2022, Canada has made little progress, adding less than one percentage point to its protected land tally and three points to its protected waters. 

The country needs to double its protected areas to meet its target, known as 30-by-30. But conservation groups, including the Wilderness Committee and the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society (CPAWS), warn progress could stall even further as federal funding for conservation initiatives is set to run out at the end of the month — and there’s no indication it will be renewed.

“We have a conservation economy that we can build on, that gives local jobs, that helps honour our Indigenous reconciliation commitments,” Sandra Schwartz, national executive director of the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society, said in an interview. 

“It’s an opportunity for the country to invest strategically in our future, while also delivering on a global commitment that our country made.”

The society is urging the federal government to re-invest in conservation, armed with new research showing protected spaces generate significant economic returns. And with the right funding, the Wilderness Committee says Manitoba’s approach to establishing these spaces could be a model for other provinces.

Canada has so far protected 13.8 per cent of land

The world is in the throes of a biodiversity crisis. Wildlife populations declined 70 per cent between 1970 and 2018, according to the Living Planet Index, which measures the relative abundance of more than 5,000 species over time, and the United Nations has found species are being driven to extinction far faster than the natural baseline. When the World Economic Forum released its global risk report in January, biodiversity loss and ecosystem collapse ranked as the No.2 long-term threat to the global economy. 

“Biodiversity is what makes the world habitable for us,” Eric Reder, director of the Wilderness Committee’s Manitoba office, said. “Habitat for species, the place for nature to be wild, is essential.”

Experts agree habitat loss is a key driver of biodiversity loss. According to a February report from the committee, Canada was already at a disadvantage when the 30-by-30 commitment was adopted in 2022 as part of an effort to halt and reverse this trend. The country had failed to reach any of the conservation targets it agreed to in the previous three decades, and had only managed to formally protect 13 per cent of lands and 12 per cent of waters, lagging behind other nations. 

As of 2026, Canada has improved to just 13.8 per cent of lands and 15.5 per cent of marine areas. It will need to protect another 1.7 million square kilometres, an area the size of Alaska, to meet the target.

Plan to protect Seal River watershed in Manitoba could add 50,000 square kms of conserved areas

Manitoba has formally protected just 11 per cent of its wild areas, despite having “more wilderness within its borders than most countries in the world,” the Wilderness Committee report says.

Still, the report is optimistic about the province’s future. Reder said that’s because the province has a history of empowering Indigenous-led conservation.

Pimachiowin Aki, a stretch of undisturbed boreal forest on the eastern side of the province that has been formally managed by four Anishinaabeg nations since 2002, was designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2018. 

More recently, the province has supported an alliance of four Cree and Dene nations in establishing a protected area in the Seal River watershed, a 50,000-square-kilometre expanse of northern Manitoba that encompasses the province’s last undammed major river, and serves as critical habitat for seals, caribou, shorebirds and more than 250 other species.

In January 2024, the province gave the watershed interim protection from mining and other industrial activities; last March the alliance, along with federal and provincial governments, determined a protected area is feasible. When complete, the Seal River watershed could protect seven per cent of the province, increasing Manitoba’s tally to 18 per cent.

Manitoba Environment and Climate Change Minister Mike Moyes said the province has prioritized its partnerships with local communities, including First Nations and rural municipalities, and is working toward a “mosaic” of protected areas through these partnerships. 

“These are folks that live in the areas that we’re talking about, right across the province, and so ensuring that they’re a part of these projects moving forward is critical,” Moyes said. “All of our work is for Manitobans, by Manitobans.”

Conservation advocates urge feds to add funding for protected areas

The Wilderness Committee report notes underfunding is the most significant barrier to protected- area growth, as governments “continue to prioritize short-term resource extraction over long-term protection.” 

The society cautions any progress Canada is making towards the 30-by-30 target could be stymied as federal funding runs out. 

The Enhanced Nature Legacy Fund, introduced in the 2021 budget, provided $2.3 billion over five years to support 30-by-30 initiatives, and aimed to reach an interim target of protecting 25 per cent of lands and waters by 2025. 

That funding expires at the end of the month and the federal government has not indicated whether it will be renewed. A representative for Environment and Climate Change Canada did not answer specific questions about whether Ottawa intends to renew the funding or introduce a new budget line for conservation initiatives.

Schwartz and leaders of other nature protection groups sent an open letter to Prime Minister Mark Carney this week, urging the government to renew and strengthen funding for nature. 

“Without renewed funding, the conservation work that is already under way and has been for several years could stall,” Schwartz said. “We’d have rural and more remote jobs at risk. We’ll have communities and Indigenous partners left without the support that they were promised.” 

When the money runs out, it will leave the responsibility for funding protected areas to the philanthropic and private sectors, which are not sufficiently resourced to fill the gaps, she added.

Schwartz explained protected areas are comparable to other large infrastructure initiatives, including the mining and oil and gas projects the federal government has championed through its Major Projects Office. 

“Environmental protection is not a trade-off,” Schwartz said. “When we have a healthy environment, we also typically have a very healthy economy. It’s a return on the investments the government has already made.”

Protected areas generate billions for the economy: report

A recent study from the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society found protected spaces are a significant contributor to the economy. 

The federal government spent $1.8 billion on protected areas in the 2023-24 fiscal year. In return, those same areas generated $10.9 billion in gross domestic product and 150,000 jobs — many in rural and remote communities, the report found. Every public and non-profit dollar spent in these areas generated $3.62 in visitor economic activity, jobs in the sector contributed $6.6 billion in labour income and tax revenues generated a return of $1.4 billion.  

“Investing in nature is an affordability act for the future,” Reder said. “The economists are telling us that we need more parks, we need more protected areas, we need more tourism investment. The money folks are telling us that we need to spend on nature.”

Moyes said the province has “a variety of irons in the fire” when it comes to future conservation initiatives, and is working with the federal government, local communities and other partners to meet its 30-by-30 commitments.

“We’re always going to ensure that there is adequate funding to get these projects across the line,” Moyes said.

“The environment is our backbone, and it’s important that we’re protecting the environment in order to have economic development.”

Julia-Simone Rutgers is a reporter covering environmental issues in Manitoba. Her position is part of a partnership between The Narwhal and the Winnipeg Free Press.

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Federal and provincial governments will partner with Indigenous leaders and environmental groups to assess whether Manitoba’s biodiverse expanse of the Hudson Bay coast is a good candidate for conservation amid the province’s push to expand the Port of Churchill.

During a news conference in Churchill on Tuesday, Premier Wab Kinew announced Manitoba will contribute $250,000 to study the feasibility of a national marine conservation area in Western Hudson Bay. 

Oceans North, a national conservation organization, will invest a further $1 million over the next year to support research, training and education initiatives in and around Churchill, Chris Debicki, the organization’s vice-president of policy and counsel, announced.

The feasibility study, led by Parks Canada, marks the first step toward protecting what Manitoba Environment Minister Mike Moyes called “one of the most ecologically significant marine environments on the planet.” It will coincide with a previously announced $750,000 feasibility study to improve ice-breaking capacity in the northern waters.

Churchill is home to one of Canada’s most northern deepwater ports and is the only one with access to the Arctic Ocean.

“These ecosystems are changing rapidly and the need for action has never been more urgent,” Moyes said. “This initiative represents a major step forward for safeguarding the health of these waters and supporting responsible economic development.”

Marine conservation areas, which protect both coastal and freshwater ecosystems, form part of the federal government’s plan to protect 30 per cent of the nation’s lands and waters by 2030. Canada has designated five such protected areas to date and plans to establish another 10 by 2030. Alongside Western Hudson Bay, the federal government is studying the feasibility of protecting Ontario’s portion of the Hudson and James Bay coasts.

Three major rivers — the Seal, Nelson and Churchill — converge in Western Hudson Bay, Debicki said. The waterways are summering habitat for more than a quarter of the global beluga population, and are a meeting ground for a rich mix of species, from polar bears and seals to migratory birds. Oceans North has been advocating for a conservation area in the region since Parks Canada first identified it as a potential site in 2017.

“If Manitoba is serious about balanced development, we must ensure our economic ambitions don’t outpace our responsibility,” Debicki said. 

Tuesday’s announcement comes against a backdrop of renewed political attention on Manitoba’s northern port. Provincial leaders in the Prairies have pitched the Port of Churchill as a future international trade hub and economic driver. Manitoba has proposed an expansion that would include critical mineral storage, railway upgrades, ice-breaking capacity and the ability to export resources like natural gas. 

Prime Minister Mark Carney recently identified the proposed “Churchill Plus” expansion as one of seven “transformative strategies” being handled by the newly minted Major Projects Office. The federal government has announced more than $175 million in funding for the project and is working with the province and port owners, Arctic Gateway Group, to study the economics of the expansion. 

The province also plans to sign a non-disclosure agreement and enter in-depth discussions with a major energy company regarding a potential pipeline to the port, the premier said in late January. 

“When we’re talking about pursuing export and import along Hudson Bay, we can’t do that without thinking about the environment,” Kinew said. 

“Instead of just trying to build up some massive export terminal and then wait for environmentalists or land users, water users to highlight the downsides years in the future, we’re saying let’s have that conversation now.”

The province plans to consult with researchers, First Nations, Inuit and Dene communities, local residents, as well as the tourism and business industries as part of the study process. Kinew stressed the province’s approach to developing the port — which is being spearheaded by a first-of-its-kind Crown-Indigenous corporation uniting First Nations, Métis and provincial leaders — will ensure Indigenous nations take the lead in deciding what developments take place.

York Factory First Nation Chief Darryl Wastesicoot said his nation’s priority is to find a healthy balance of economic development and environmental protection. He is focused on establishing educational opportunities in the region so the community can play a role in determining what that balance should look like. 

“We’re not against industry, we’re not against progress,” Wastesicoot said. “We just want to be part of it. Our goal, for my nation, is that we get out of this poverty we’re in.” 

No timeline has been set for the feasibility study, though Moyes noted a similar study for the nearby Seal River watershed protected area took approximately one year. Parks Canada will take the lead establishing terms of reference and outlining the study area. 

Julia-Simone Rutgers is a reporter covering environmental issues in Manitoba. Her position is part of a partnership between The Narwhal and the Winnipeg Free Press.

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The Ontario government is moving ahead with plans to transfer management of 60 per cent of Wasaga Beach from the province to the town, despite receiving feedback from thousands of Ontarians decrying the proposal as potentially endangering sensitive piping plover habitat and affecting beach access. 

The Doug Ford government received 14,233 comments over a 30-day period last summer, about 98 per cent of which were in opposition to the proposal. Many expressed concerns that erasing provincial protection could mean the loss of sand dunes in favour of hotels, condos and other beachfront development.

“We did not consider any changes to the proposal based on the feedback received, given the Town of Wasaga Beach’s commitments to keeping the beach public, not building on the beach and protecting environmentally sensitive dunes,” the government said in its decision.

Under Ontario’s Environmental Bill of Rights, the government is required to post moves with environmental or energy implications to the publicly accessible Environmental Registry of Ontario to allow for widespread feedback from industry, experts and residents. (The Ford government has, though, exempted several projects and types of notices from the registry, such as the Ontario Place redevelopment and permits to harm at-risk species, under Bill 5.)

Last June, the Ford government posted its decision to amend the Provincial Parks and Conservation Reserves Act, the legislation which created more than 340 parks across Ontario. The amendment would permit the transfer of 60 hectares, or three per cent, of Wasaga Beach Provincial Park, which protects the world’s longest freshwater beach and surrounding natural areas, to the town’s management to help boost tourism and the local economy. 

The transfer includes more than half, or 60 per cent, of the beachfront, which contains all the sand dunes and vegetation that serve as nesting area for the piping plover.

Among the roughly two per cent of respondents that supported the move for the sake of economic development and revitalization, there was also a push for “continued environmental management and continued public access.”

Most of the comments on the registry posting highlighted the consequences of losing this beach environment, or even threatening it with increased development. 

“Once this precedent is set, we risk irreversible environmental degradation, reduced public access and the commercialization of what should remain a protected, public space for generations to come,” one local resident wrote. “Tourism and environmental stewardship are not mutually exclusive, and development must not come at the cost of conservation.” 

“Public land — especially waterfront property as ecologically and recreationally important as Wasaga Beach — should remain in public hands and under provincial protection,” another wrote.  

None of this swayed the province. The amendments to enable the transfer were passed in Ontario’s 2025 budget, released last fall. With the recent decision, the government will now advance the transfer to the town.

This is not the first time the Ford government has disregarded feedback through the Environmental Registry of Ontario. The Auditor General of Ontario has repeatedly called out this government for failing to adhere to its own laws — at times “deliberately” — that require it to meaningfully consult the public through the registry.

In late 2022, for example, the government received more than 30,000 comments about its plans to remove 7,400 acres of land from the protected Greenbelt. In spite of this, “no changes were made to the proposal as a result of public consultation,” the government’s posting on the registry read.

In choosing not to consider any changes based on public feedback, the government’s decision said the lands removed from provincial protection in Wasaga Beach “will continue to be subject to Ontario’s species protection and environmental laws.”

However, shortly before announcing this transfer, the Ford government weakened species protections through its controversial Bill 5, as well as exempting certain postings from the environmental registry. The provincial parks legislation was the last law standing to protect plover habitat in Wasaga Beach.

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A small group of us were returning from a guided tour through the grasslands on a sunny October afternoon when I picked up on the familiar scent of burning wood. Curious, I made my way toward the small peak overlooking the prairie, where a bonfire was lit and a young woman stood in a large metal bucket. It almost looked like she was dancing. A few people were smiling and laughing around her, as she continued her gentle footwork — the traditional Anishinaabe way of processing wild rice. Also known as threshing or jigging, it requires someone to gently trample the wild rice to separate the edible grain from the outer husk. 

The demonstration was part of Prairie Day at the Alderville Black Oak Savanna — a hub of conservation and restoration — where individuals from both within and outside of Alderville First Nation are invited to spend the day.

According to one estimate, only one per cent of the tallgrass prairie ecosystems remain intact around the world, and preserving them is critical to ensuring the survival of rare traditional medicines and rare species at risk. These types of grasslands also serve as a highly effective carbon sink, absorbing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere that would otherwise contribute to global warming. And grasslands store the majority of that carbon in the soil, rather than above ground, meaning it’s less at risk of being released by fire or drought.

Wild rice doesn’t grow in the savanna, but it does just down the road in Rice Lake, and it was once found in waterways across southern Ontario. In Ojibwe civil rights activist Eddie Benton-Banai’s retelling of the oral history surrounding the western migration of the Anishinaabe to the Great Lakes, he wrote that they followed a prophecy about “a land where the food grows on the water.”  However, many of the wild rice beds in southern Ontario, including Rice Lake, were destroyed or damaged by shoreline development, dredging, introduced species and damming. 

Some people, like Alderville community Elder Jeff Beaver, are trying to bring back the practice of harvesting wild rice, or manoomin, which translates to “good seed” and is recognized as a gift from the Creator. Beaver’s research and work to help restore wild rice beds in the Williams Treaties region began decades ago. On Prairie Day, he guided the visitors through wild rice processing.  

From her bucket beside the bonfire, Rageous May-Vokes lifted one moccasin after another, dancing on the rice, separating the husk from the grain that had sustained her ancestors for centuries. She is from Alderville First Nation, but never had the chance to try manoomin from Rice Lake before today. “This experience makes me feel connected back to my community, our teachings and where we originally come from,” May-Vokes says.

In the 1830s, some Michi Saagiig Anishinabeg migrated to the south shore of Rice Lake, about two hours east of Toronto, after being forced by British settlers to surrender their traditional lands around the Bay of Quinte. Upon arrival they noticed that sections of the land had been burned for the cultivation of corn, beans and squash by the Haudenosaunee community that previously lived on the land. The presence of fire on these lands shaped the biodiverse conditions of the ecosystem and gave the land its name: “Pamitaashkodeyong” which means “where it burns and where it travels” or “lake of the burning plains.” That practice was continued by the Michi Saagiig Anishinabeg of Alderville First Nation.

For centuries, under the care of the Haudenosaunee and then the Anishinaabe, the tallgrass prairie thrived due to the traditional practice of burning. But at some point, that practice stopped. Rick Beaver, one of the founders of the Black Oak Savanna, points to colonial expansion, infrastructure development and the Indian Act. “It came into being and we no longer had control over our territories, ” he says. “With that comes the suppression and extinction, in some cases, of traditional practices like burning, language and other customs that are appropriate to harmonize with living on the land, loving the land and acknowledging the connection between all things.” 

Like harvesting and processing wild rice, cultural burns that give way to prairie ecosystems were nearly extinguished.

In a speech at the Prairie Day event, former Alderville Chief Dave Mowat said the Indian Act wasn’t concerned with the environment. “It was just concerned with undermining traditional government systems.”

In 1999, Alderville First Nation was in need of more housing on its reserve land to accommodate a growing population. At the time, the land now known as the Black Oak Savanna was proposed for a new housing development. But Mowat and Rick Beaver, both of whom had grown up on Alderville First Nation, knew the environmental significance of these lands. As children, they ran through these fields. The land carried the Elders’ teachings and stories — and they were determined to protect it. 

Mowat, who held a position in the economic development department of Chief and Council at the time,  supported a preliminary biological survey of the area. Along with a few community members, Beaver, a biologist by training, spent a season surveying the area and sent the findings to the federal department then called Environment Canada. A biologist there agreed the area had ecological value. The land was then registered under the habitat stewardship program for species at risk, which halted construction plans. “It was strange, it was almost like Environment Canada was waiting for us,” Mowat says.

With support from the band council and Environment Canada, the Alderville Black Oak Savanna was founded later that year. When Beaver was hired to lead the restoration efforts as the savanna’s first natural heritage coordinator, he recalled, “the land was a patchwork of savanna prairie.” Parts of the land that were historically prairie had been plowed into agricultural fields. “The band was leasing them out to local farmers to produce hay, corn, oats, soybeans, various grains, wheat, oats, rye,” Beaver says.  

In the absence of fire, and the practice of managing grasslands for traditional food, medicine and wildlife, the prairie and savanna were slowly fading away. The woods were expanding their roots and non-native species were creeping across the farm fields of the dying savanna.

Over the last two decades, fire has been reintroduced to the lands as a way of managing the environment. If you visit the Alderville Black Oak Savanna today, you will witness a thriving tallgrass prairie: heath aster and New Jersey tea, big bluestem and a scattering of black oak trees at the northernmost stretch of their range. As a fire-dependent ecosystem in a place where fire is otherwise immediately suppressed, tallgrass prairie and black oak savanna would not be able to thrive without human stewardship.

The Alderville prairie is the “antithesis of that narrative that people are bad for the environment,” Radek Odolczyk, stewardship and restoration coordinator at the Alderville Black Oak Savanna, says. “It’s a cultural legacy on the land that’s telling you that we can actually improve biodiversity and resilience.”

Work on the Alderville Black Oak Savanna happens all year. When the snow melts and the land begins to thaw, the team starts preparing. First, they designate the areas that are in need of a burn by looking at the health of the plants and data on how much seed they’re producing. “You never get as good of a yield, in terms of seed in a tallgrass prairie, as you do the year after it was burned,” Odolczyk explains. “The thatch that’s accumulated is preventing water from penetrating the grain and getting down to the soil. When you burn, all those nutrients that are captured in dead plant material are released back into the soil.” 

Early in the spring, once the areas in need of burning are identified, Odolczyk goes over the logistics and conditions that will affect the burn. “You’re doing everything leading up to that burn to make sure that it goes the way that you intend for it to go,” he says. Burns take place in the different areas throughout the rest of the spring season, but they never burn more than a quarter of each type of habitat, leaving refuge for various species. After a burn, the team might reseed the grass to help nature along, and they’ll monitor as animals return to the land after a long winter.

As the days get warmer, the focus shifts to managing the presence of invasive, or non-native, species, which “are one of the biggest threats to biodiversity, especially in southern Ontario,” Odolczyk says. European buckthorn, dog-strangling vine, spotted knapweed and Canada thistle are some of the more common non-native species found in the Black Oak Savanna. Burning is the main control method used at the savanna, because many of the non-native species do not have the same historical relationship with fire as tallgrass prairie. However, dog-strangling vine, which has no natural checks and balances in southern Ontario, is adapted to fire, and much harder to control. The team physically removes it or turns to herbicides. 

Spring blooms into summer and plants begin to yield their seeds. The team collects some of the seeds to spread to areas that need propagating, they store some for the next growing season and in other areas let nature take its course. “They’ve been pretty dang successful so far, several million years along,” Odolczyk says.

The Mitigomin Native Plant Nursery was established at the Alderville Black Oak Savanna in 2019, and up and running by 2023. Its coordinator, Gillian di Petta, has focused on experimenting with plant growth to learn what conditions allow the plants to thrive, such as whether plants that have been recently burned produce more viable seeds.

Many of the plants grown in the nursery are contributed to local restoration efforts within the Rice Lake Plains Partnership — a stewardship project involving Alderville First Nation, private landowners, conservation groups and government agencies — or to other local programs. “We have a partnership with Kawartha Pine Ridge District School Board, which is the local school board in our area, and we work with them to put in native plant gardens at specific schools,” di Petta says. Community members are also given access to traditional medicines grown in the nursery.

As the days get shorter and colder, the team begins the process of suppression and succession: to keep the woods from encroaching on the prairie, the team either cuts down certain parts of the forest or girdles the trees — making shallow cuts to the bark, leading trees to die slowly while remaining upright. 

Most of this takes place in the winter because it has less of a negative impact on the ecosystem. “If we were to do this during the growing season, we’d potentially run [over] areas with ATVs. Or if we have to drop a tree, there might be birds nesting in that tree,” Odolczyk says. “The advantage of doing this through the winter is that everything’s dormant and the ground is frozen.” 

The work being done to manage the woods in the winter shapes how the area will thrive in the seasons ahead.

This past summer, the staff of Alderville Black Oak Savanna discovered a red-headed woodpecker at the edge of the grassland restoration area in one of those dead-standing trees. Red-headed woodpeckers are on the list of endangered species in Ontario. They have a high death rate from traffic collisions and development has clawed away at their habitat and food resources. Pesticides have diminished their ability to reproduce. 

Over the years, these birds have made pit stops in Alderville First Nation on their migration journey. But this was the first time Beaver remembers seeing one nesting on these lands. 

“Like any species, if you take the time to understand them carefully, you will understand that they are speaking about the conditions of the earth in very specific terminology and language,” Beaver says of the red-headed woodpeckers. “What does that mean with respect to the land? Well, it means it’s suitable for them.” 

The sighting was a testament to their two and a half decades of environmental stewardship.

When the Black Oak Savanna started out in 1999, Mowat recalls there being very little funding. Beaver was working out of the trunk of his car. “We had no equipment. It was a skeleton operation, but we knew it was important,” Mowat says. “When I reflect back 25 years, what it’s become is quite remarkable.” 

Alderville First Nation is to thank, Mowat says, for the savanna’s expansion from about 37 hectares of land to more than double that today, at 81 hectares.  Over the years, Alderville members would come to the Black Oak Savanna to sell their neighbouring CP land — which refers to Certificate of Possession, a specific type of land tenure that recognizes the lawful possession of the land, and the right to occupy and develop it, but the legal title is still held by the Government of Canada.

The acquisition of land over the years was a slow process, Mowat says, but it gained traction when summer students would come work at the savanna, and then go home and tell their parents about it. “What we really had to rely on was education,” he says. Gradually, the community was convinced of the savanna’s value, and more and more land was added. “We’re lucky that it happened that way because we could have had someone sell five acres and a big shop gets put in right next to the savanna, but that never happened,” Mowat says.

As the natural heritage site continued to expand, so did the need for staff to manage it. Over the years, stewardship efforts have evolved to include a reptile and amphibian stewardship program. Alderville First Nation’s location on the south shore of Rice Lake makes it a hotspot for nesting turtles each year. But as their prime nesting locations are in close proximity to roadsides or farms, many turtles are killed or injured each year.

Sisters Grace and Kassie McKeown have led turtle stewardship efforts across Alderville First Nation for years. Grace is now the herptile technician for the savanna, after first starting out as a summer student nearly a decade ago. Kassie is currently a band councillor.

Every spring, there’s a two- to three-week-long period where turtles come up on the shore to lay their eggs, which hatch in August. Grace and Kassie monitor where the turtles make their nests and deploy nest protector boxes —  square wood frames with chicken wire stapled to the top and semi-circle doors cut into the sides. “If you orient it so that the slots of wood that have the holes face the water, the turtles are encouraged to go in a safe direction.”

This year they were able to protect 50 turtle nests. “Not all turtles are going to be saved or able to reach the age of maturity. It just helps their numbers, helps the odds,” Grace explains. 

Like the early days of bringing summer students to work at the savanna, part of the turtle stewardship effort also involves community outreach and education. “Last season, we held a turtle nest protector workshop. Community members got to build their own turtle nest boxes and take them home. We stayed in contact, so they would let me know if they saw a turtle,” Grace says. The hope is that an increase in education will also increase community participation. 

“The more community involvement, the better this program will be.” 

Having a space that cultivates and fosters the connection that humans have with nature and the rest of creation is a part of Alderville First Nation’s pride: “It’s one of our gems,” Mowat says.

Beaver talks to Elders who miss hearing the sounds of eastern meadowlarks, a bird species threatened by the loss of its grassland habitat and in steep decline as a result. He tells them to come and visit the savanna, where the meadowlarks’ song can still be heard.

“It puts a smile on their faces,” he says.

For Beaver, the Black Oak Savanna is a place where people can find joy in nature. “The Earth is not a resource,” he says. “The Earth is a companion, a parent, a teacher, a consoler and I’m convinced that it loves us innately and deeply.”

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The woods surrounding the Highwood Pass, a mountain valley southwest of Calgary, are quiet. The traffic snarls of fall, which brought day trippers flocking to see larch trees pop yellow against the green hills, are gone. The road through the pass is closed until the spring. 

Gone too is a temporary camp and barrier across a logging road, set up to protest in advance of clear-cut operations in this popular corner of Kananaskis Country along the rocky spine of southwestern Alberta. At least for now. 

At first blush, it’s odd for protesters opposed to logging to leave the area before the logging starts, but that wasn’t really the point of the camp set up by a group called Defenders of the Eastern Slopes. 

“Yes, we want to protect these valleys from the logging and protect the fish from the logging, but one of our goals is also to start the process of creating a culture of civil disobedience,” one of the organizers, Michael Sawyer, says. 

It’s not something generally associated with Alberta and it’s not something Sawyer has always focused on. He’s spent decades fighting through more official/polite/formal channels: in courts, through letters, within environmental organizations and without. But in this time and place, he thinks a more direct approach is needed. 

“I would argue that, given the politics in this province, and I would even say nationally, we need more and more citizens who are prepared to stand up against undemocratic and illegal activities by the government.”

So while the camp is gone and the woods are still, the group behind regular gatherings on the outskirts of the cutblock are ready to put their bodies on the line at the first sign of activity.

“We’re keeping an eye on things,” Colin Smith, another member of Defenders of the Eastern Slopes, says. “We’ve got eyes and ears out there.”

The area in question and why it matters

The area in question is surrounded by protected land in the multi-use area known as Kananaskis Country — a mishmash of parkland, recreational spaces and industrial activity along the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains. 

It’s an area popular with residents of nearby Calgary, but has been set aside for logging since before Kananaskis was established. It’s also the headwaters for all of the creeks and rivers throughout southern Alberta and into the wider Prairies. 

In 2024, an earlier clear-cut plan covering 1,100 hectares, an area the size of over 2,000 football fields, was shelved after pushback and the sale of Spray Lake Sawmills to B.C.-based West Fraser Timber. Now, it’s been revived.

New permits have been issued by Fisheries and Oceans Canada for the construction of logging bridges across rivers and creeks in the valley. Those permits allow disruptions to habitat for endangered native trout species in the valley — a fact that frustrates the group.

In an emailed statement, West Fraser Timber said it understands “how important it is to protect bull trout and westslope cutthroat trout habitat in the Highwood” and that as part of its planning, the company will be “monitoring conditions before and after harvest to help inform responsible stewardship.”

The company said it paused Spray Lake’s earlier plans to “hear from people who live, work or recreate near our operations,” and added operations won’t start until its planning processes are complete. It did not say whether or not those operations would start this winter.

But it’s not just logging the group is concerned about. The eastern slopes face multiple threats, from clear-cutting to the potential for new coal mines south of Kananaskis, all of which could impact the water that flows from these headwaters across the Prairies. 

Denuded hills don’t hold on to water, which exacerbates the risk of flooding during rainfall and leaves the area more parched during droughts. Pollution from reopened mines would rush off the hills and into irrigation channels and drinking water. 

Sawyer, who lives in nearby Nanton, says his tap water comes from these hills.  

“We’re treating our foothills headwaters like they don’t matter from a water point of view, but they’re absolutely critical, and the government is just not paying attention to it,” Sawyer says.

West Fraser Timber said it will establish buffers of at least 30-metres around watercourses.The office of the Minister of Forestry and Parks did not respond to an interview request prior to publication.

We’re suing the RCMP to fight for press freedom

In November 2021, photojournalist Amber Bracken was arrested by the RCMP while on assignment for The Narwhal. So we launched a lawsuit to take a stand for press freedom. Now, we’re in the middle of our trial.

The eastern slopes: ‘vital’ to ecosystems, water and more

The Rocky Mountain headwaters have been the subject of increasing concern to Albertans. The United Conservative government is working to reopen coal mining to the south of the pass, at the same time that reservoirs and rivers across the province have seen consecutive years of depletion due to droughts. 

Mike Judd, another member of the Defenders of the Eastern Slopes, says the government and industry hold too much power, which allows them to enforce a narrative focused squarely on resource extraction.  

“They have the propaganda machinery to keep a constant conservative message out there, which is the eastern slopes are a warehouse of treasures that keep the Alberta economy rolling,” he says. In his mind, that’s a narrow definition of wealth. 

“There’s not a thing in their message that’s about the eastern slopes being the vital water source for Alberta, about it being the vital place for so many different species of birds, fish and animals, and for being the vital place for so many people to have a recreational outlet.”

It’s another reason Judd and Sawyer believe civil disobedience is a necessary tool — to draw attention to their fight and, as Judd puts it, “rattle the chains” a little. 

Starting in October, the defenders hosted weekend events nearby, to introduce people to the issues and the idea of civil disobedience. The community made art that could be hung on the barrier across the logging road. 

Without any current logging or bridge building to oppose, there was no standoff or risk of arrest — yet. 

“It’s just giving people who have been interested in doing something like this a place to show up and meet other people,” Smith says.

“This hopefully can be a catalyst to future actions.”

Group hopes to ‘bridge political polarization’ over shared concern for headwaters

The Defenders of the Eastern Slopes isn’t solely focused on the Highwood Pass. The group might plan blockades in other areas of the vast stretch of woods and mountains that skirt the border of B.C. and Alberta, according to Smith. 

He’s been contacted by the RCMP, who sent out a liaison officer and he’s heard the company doesn’t plan to start operations this winter, but there’s no confirmation as yet. 

The RCMP did not response to a request for comment by publication time.

Smith says the threats to the region are a unifying force. He said that, while at the camp this fall, he had conversations with hunters and a coal worker that involved both disagreement, and finding common ground.

“Water and land protection and stewardship can bridge political polarization — especially water,” he says. “Most people can agree that we need clean water.”

— With files from Amber Bracken

Updated on Dec. 19, 2025, at 10:39 a.m MT: This story has been corrected to identify larch trees properly. Lark trees, as previously written, is not a tree species.

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