MARMOT MADNESS

Marmots. No wonder Mother Nature's phasing them out. They look like a cross between a squirrel and a gopher, only apparently they are fatter and more useless, spending most of their time lounging around on rocks and only bothering to get up and look for food when they get really really really hungry. Hmm.... must be some marmot genes somewhere in our family background, sounds a lot like my brother.

Anyway, what's the big obsession with saving these guys? What's the likelihood of the average person ever running into one? Don't get me wrong, I personally have nothing against them. In fact, I've never even seen a real live specimen but I'm pretty sure if I did, I'd like it. Preferably on a plate. Fried, stewed, breaded, broiled . . . perhaps roasted with some nice mashed potatoes and gravy. Mmmm . . . marmot. I bet they're even tastier than spotted owl. First Nations people used to hunt them for food so they must be at least palatable, if not downright delicious.

As you can see I'm definitely not anti-marmot, at least from a culinary standpoint. But I do object to subsidizing the bucktoothed little bastards. Not content with throwing money around like drunken sailors on shore leave to finance stupid crap like the Olympic Games and carbon persecution, last year our government forked over $233,000 in rodent welfare payments.

This isn't just housing subsidy, maternity benefits, free food and day care for the kiddies, this is also relocation funds, an expensive clothing allowance (radio transmitters don't come from WalMart) and their very own personal militia to ward off pesky predators. And here's where it gets ugly.

The marmot advocates, exhibiting typical eco-loon tunnel vision, don't have a problem interfering with other forms of wildlife in order to pursue their own goals. It's fine for them to put up nets and fences, play tape recordings of annoying noises and in general disturb every living thing in the area because they happen to think marmots are cool. It's okay to capture, traumatize, and tranquilize cougars and make them wear radio collars so their dedicated crews of marmot shepherds ( I'm not kidding, this is what they call themselves) can be alerted and put the run on those bad nasty kitties when they come looking for lunch. They don't even mind using a cougar hound to chase and harass the poor cats because marmot-saving is very ecologically correct.

But the eagles had it worse. In Green Mountain near Nanaimo in 2003, seven golden eagles felt the wrath of the marmot-lovers. In a misguided attempt to reduce marmot predation, employees of the provincial government killed these federally and internationally protected birds by baiting them with a deer carcass and then shooting them. How low can you go - you can bet the general public wasn't in on that one. Coincidentally, the guy in charge at the time just happened to be the chairman of the provincial marmot recovery team. Your tax dollars at work, killing eagles. Disgusting.

And is this kind of one-sided disregard for other species going to help the marmot? Not if Mother Nature decides that Vancouver Island marmots just aren't working out. New species are constantly being discovered and other ones are disappearing - it's just how nature works, get over it. If we saved every type of life form on earth there wouldn't be any room for the new ones. Complicated schemes involving human interference won't save a species that is slated for the cosmic dumpster any more than buying carbon credits will affect the temperature of the planet. In fact, well-meaning intervention by humans has historically only made things worse. If marmots aren't going to make it on their own, we won't change that by giving them life support until the funding runs out. If they are meant to survive they will.

I suspect we don't really know how many there are in the wild anyway. After all, they are reclusive creatures - they aren't going to show up and fill out census forms. They also tend to pop up in unexpected places: earlier this year, a female showed up in a gravel pit in Port Alberni. Two days later a male was found in a backyard in Nanoose. In a display of mind-numbing stupidity, these poor things were trapped and relocated on Mount Hooper in hopes that they would mate. Good grief, did it not occur to anyone that these two might not find each other attractive? That one of them may have been the marmot version of a double-bagger? Or that they already had friends and family in the neighborhood and had no desire to be transported elsewhere? God Almighty, even glorified gophers can't escape from government interference in their lives these days.

If they disappeared completely, would anyone even notice that this creature they had never seen wasn't there anymore? I don't see anyone whining and crying about the demise of the dodo. This year the government has cut funds for the marmot program, to the great chagrin of the would-be marmot saviors. I guess the powers that be have realized that people who can't even get decent health care aren't exactly thrilled to waste what little money they have on a marmot dating service. How fitting that Mukmuk the marmot should be a mascot for the Olympic games - both represent our government's amazing ability to blow money on feel-good projects while our real priorities go unaddressed.

SELLING US DOWN THE RIVER

Well, thank God the horrendous heat wave seems to be over - I've managed to keep my garden alive by endless hand-watering, but my lawn is toast. Or at least toast-colored. But I'm getting used to it, I've had a brown summer lawn for a few years now because I actually believed the bullshit about us having a water shortage. And because having water meters forces you to comply whether you believe it or not.

Yes, having a green lawn nowadays identifies you as being an environmental criminal, even lower in the social order than a smoker, global warming skeptic, non-recycler, or (that lowest of the low) an employed white heterosexual non-handicapped male. But here's the interesting thing - the water shortage only seems to apply to local taxpaying residents, not to tourists or greedy developers. Apparently it's okay to drop the level of Comox Lake by AN ENTIRE FOOT to accommodate the all-important Kayak Festival, but if you're planning to top up the old Mr. Turtle, you'd better do it in the dead of night so your neighbors won't rat you to the Water Police.

This kayak event is estimated to attract about 200 tourists, bringing "economic benefits" to the valley. Big deal, so a few hotels, stores and restaurants making a couple of extra bucks justifies such a massive waste of this supposedly scarce resource? There certainly aren't any economic benefits for the average resident. Think about this: Comox Lake is 9 km long, with a surface area of 2116 ha and a depth of 120 meters. If we can afford to drop the whole thing by 30 cm just to provide for some out-of-towner's boating pleasure, how much of a water crisis do we actually have?

If the situation is so dire, why on earth is development being allowed in Union Bay that would add 12,000 more users (I'm guessing four to a home) onto the system? Union Bay currently gets its water from Langley Lake, bringing it all the way up to Spindrift where Royston can access it if necessary. At this time it could service about 2300 new connections according to their website, but in the future expects to be part of the Comox Valley water system. The original proposal was for about 1700 residential units, but somehow that has morphed into 3400, DOUBLE the original amount. How do they even get away with this crap? Let's see, maybe because the proposed new bylaws (made up when convenient to the current agenda) will include "density bonus" provisions, which means that if the developer will "donate" enough multi-family ratholes to cram the unwashed masses into, he will be "allowed" to build extra properties for private sale to people who want real houses. An interesting business transaction, to say the least. But we all know that developers are just bristling with altruism, all they want to do is provide affordable housing for the good of humanity, they really CARE about people. Of course, not quite enough to actually live in one of these slum crapshacks themselves. Oh no, they will be off saving the world somewhere else as soon as they have collected their enormous paycheck.

So which is it? You can't have it both ways. If we have enough water to accommodate another 12000 people, then quit with the restrictions and phony guilt trips. If we don't have enough even for ourselves, then obviously any new development should be completely out of the question. Why are we being sold two diametrically opposite scenarios? That can only mean we're being lied to one way or the other. And where do these new residents plan on working? Or going to school or getting medical treatment? Or parking, for that matter. Well, I guess that's all just part of the package, isn't it.

Most of us have settled here because we like the small-town feel. I'm always hearing the rah-rah about our lovely little valley, nestled in the wilderness, how lucky we are to live in such an unspoiled paradise, etc. Well, yes we are. But not for long. The profit-seeking of developers and the willingness of the Regional Board to sell us out is hurtling us headlong toward becoming another Vancouver. We're told it's a good thing because it will be "sustainable" and ever so eco-friendly. Unfortunately, sustainability is just a politically correct term for developers cramming the largest amount of people into the smallest area possible and then saddling them with insane amounts of green regulation. They get brownie points for this in the form of LEED certification, which sheeple think is great because they don't know what it is, but it's green, so it must be good. Baa.

Yes, tiny lots, multifamily housing and a bunch of shared greenspace. I guess if you enjoy the communal lifestyle, that's okay, but most people would rather have bigger lots and their very own greenspace and privacy - that's why we live here instead of the big city. So why are we letting the big city come to us? I'm just going to come right out and say it: I don't want more people here. I don't want more crime and more traffic congestion and more nagging about how we don't have enough resources. If we don't have enough, the solution is simple: QUIT ENCOURAGING NEW DEVELOPMENT!!! Is that such a difficult concept to grasp?

It's like pulling teeth to get a decent hospital or even snow removal or road maintenance for the people who already live here, but let's just roll out the red carpet and invite a few more people over - that should improve the situation. It's becoming painfully obvious that our elected officials care more about constantly creating more income through new development than in maintaining and improving services to those of us who have been paying taxes here for years. They will be too busy rubbing their hands together at the thought of the expanded bureaucracy and all the money it entails to mourn the loss of a unique little town like Union Bay. They would do well to remember that the people who put them where they are can also remove them. I'll certainly be thinking about it every time I drive by the maintenance crews tending to all the annuals planted in the name of beautifying Courtenay for the tourists, while on my way home to NOT water my own.

FUN WITH FOSSILS

Today I thought I'd take a break from slaving in the garden and do something completely different, perhaps something relaxing and less physically demanding than shoveling and pushing a wheelbarrow around. With this in mind, I volunteered to go fossiling with my daughter the paleophile, envisioning a nice leisurely stroll on the beach with maybe a break for lunch at some seaside cafe. Ah, rest and relaxation, just what I need.

Unfortunately I overlooked the fact that, to a dedicated ammonite-hunter, fossiling is SERIOUS BUSINESS. Let me explain this: if you've ever worked on a chain gang, you've already enjoyed the equivalent of what passes for entertainment in the world of fossil collectors. Breaking rocks in the hot sun, to be exact. In fact, the poor slobs with the leg shackles actually have it a lot easier, because they get to crack rocks in the blazing heat WITHOUT also lugging along a giant bag of hammers, chisels, extra clothing, umpteen bottles of water and a variety of unhealthy snack items. Plus a ten-pound purse full of change (since the stupid slot machines stopped taking quarters, I'm just not motivated to clean it out anymore).

Yeah those prisoners had it pretty good, the old warden probably let them rest once in a while, but an enthusiastic fossiler will unmercifully flog you onward in search of the elusive Bostrychoceras or Eupachydiscus. "Oh, look - just over there" (looks to be about 2 kms away) "just past that enormous impenetrable wall of razor-sharp barnacle-encrusted boulders, my friend found the most AWESOME Nostoceras!" Oh, goody - I'm sure we too will find a dozen or so when we get there. Trudge trudge. Pant pant. Onward.

I learned a lot on this trip. Mainly that the reason fossils are still around after millions of years is that they're good at hiding. Oh yes, they're cagey little buggers all right. Hiding under seaweed, disguising themselves as oysters. Embedding themselves in rock formations and jumping out of the way when you try to remove them, causing you to hammer your thumb and invent a bunch of new swear words. No wonder no one's ever captured a live specimen.

Aside from discovering that it's entirely possible to whack yourself in the shin while aiming in the totally opposite direction, I learned that my tolerance for crawling around on hot rocks like a lizard is a lot higher than I thought. We spent five hours out there, which is about four and a half hours past my usual limit for sun exposure (I will know who to blame for those future wrinkles coming my way), but I actually had fun. I got to spend the day with my daughter, which doesn't happen nearly often enough, and I learned a whole pile of impressive new paleo words.

Our efforts did not go unrewarded, either - we didn't find a Nostoceras (not for lack of dragging Grandma through the tide pools), but we did come home with an assortment of fossils, most of which I got to keep. Luckily for me, a specimen has to be pretty unique to be worth adding to Paleogirl's collection, so I get them by default (although I'm pretty sure she would have beat me insensible with a rock hammer if I'd tried to make off with a Nostoceras).

So at the end of the day, here I am: dehydrated, sunburned, barnacle-scraped and exhausted, but by God, I've got a pretty fine Baculites sitting on my desk in front of me. Now how cool is that?