The Highway that Time Passed By -- Part II, Boston Bar and Kanaka Bar

This post is part two of my look at the Fraser Canyon route, Highway #1, which for decades was the only route connecting most of the Interior of British Columbia with Vancouver and the coast.  That changed in 1986 with the opening of a much faster four-lane freeway aka the Coquihalla Highway, or "the Coke" as many refer to it.  After that, most residents of the southern Interior never saw the Fraser Canyon again, myself included.  Until, that is, I spent two days in July 2017 taking a look at what happened to it over the last 30 years.

The Fraser Canyon Highway between Yale and Boston Bar is very interesting for any number of reasons -- it follows much of the old Cariboo wagon road built for the gold rush; there is often a railroad in sight with the CPR on one side of the river and the CNR on the other; the river pushes into a narrow passage bounded by high stone walls in the area called Hells Gate, so named by early explorer Simon Fraser -- but perhaps the most interesting features of the highway itself are the tunnels.  There are a total of seven of them and they were built between 1957 and 1964. Driving from Yale to Boston Bar they are, in order:  Yale (opened in 1963), Saddle Rock (1958), Sailor Bar (1959), Alexandra (1964), Hells Gate (1960), Ferrabee (1964), and China Bar (1961).                     

This postcard shot of Saddle Rock tunnel was likely taken soon after the tunnel was opened in 1958.  Though this was the first of the modern day tunnels, there had been tunnels along the road for at least 30 years.  The earlier ones were crudely blasted holes with jagged, craggy openings which looked more like cave entrances than tunnels and must have provided a powerful reminder that you were driving into a mountainside.

When I was a kid, the trips my family made along the Canyon at least once or twice a year usually involved an informal game of "guess the name of the next tunnel."  My mum and dad were generally better at it than me, even if only marginally, so the overachiever only-child that I was then (just the over-achiever part changed) decided to memorize the names of the tunnels. Bear in mind that there was no internet then and such trivia had to be obtained first hand.  So, on our next trip, as we approached the first tunnel, I furtively pulled out the tiny notebook and pencil I had secreted in a pocket then recorded the names which are displayed by the entry of each tunnel.  I memorized the names over the course of our camping holiday and on the return trip home, put my newfound knowledge to use, cleverly flubbing my guess on a couple of tunnels so as to not appear too slick.

Most of the names are taken from nearby landmarks.  Saddle Rock is a stunning rock formation just south of the tunnel and Hells Gate is for the dramatically narrowed canyon of the Fraser down below.  The two "bar" names date from the Fraser Canyon gold rush when many of the gold-bearing sand or gravel river bars were given names.  I could not find any specific information on the origin of Sailor Bar or China Bar, though the latter would suggest that gold claims in the area might have been worked by Chinese. The two places featured in this post -- Boston Bar and Kanaka Bar -- bear names from the gold rush era as well.  The former was for a nearby bar which was worked mainly by Americans who, in Chinook Jargon, were all known as "Boston men" or just "Bostons".  Similarly, Kanaka Bar was named for an area worked by Hawaiians who were known in the Jargon as "Kanakas".  Chinook Jargon was a 19th century pidgin language used for trading in the Pacific Northwest and was a blend of words from English, French and several indigenous languages.

Boston Bar, B.C.
Looking toward North Bend bridge

In the numerous times I drove the Canyon as an adult, I don't recall ever going into the small town of Boston Bar (pop. 860) or even stopping at a gas station along the highway.  I do have one memory of the place from when I was a kid: there was an aerial ferry across the Fraser River.  I wanted to see the ferry and take a photo of it.  Just see it, not go on it.

So, with that in mind, I turned off the highway and headed toward the river.  When I came to a "T" intersection with a sign pointing to North Bend, the community across the river, I knew I was at the right place.  Instead of turning in the direction the sign pointed, I turned the other way.  I wanted to reconnoitre.  I wanted to scout out whether the road continued on past the ferry landing or, as if often the case, ended at the ferry with no way of turning around.  Obviously, a dead end would not be a good thing for someone who didn't want to go on the ferry.  I couldn't really see the road down at the river so I grabbed my camera and zoomed in.  Ahhh... I still couldn't see the road but what I could see told me I had nothing to worry about. There was a bridge.  So that was that.  I found out later that the ferry had been replaced by the bridge in 1985.  

The postcard below shows the ferry circa 1950.

I thought I might as well see what other sights Boston Bar had to offer so I drove on down the street until a boarded up building came into view.  Boarded up buildings always make good photo subjects.

The more I stared at this building, the more I thought it looked like an old railway station.  I walked all around it looking for clues.  All original signage had been removed and the usual "No Trespassing" signs had replaced them.  Also conspicuous in their absence:  railroad tracks.  There were no tracks by the building.  So if it really was a railway station, where were the tracks?  I chalked it up as one of those mysteries that would probably never be solved.  

A couple of weeks later while looking for something else entirely on Google -- always the way it goes -- I came across this photo:

CNR train station, Boston Bar, B.C. 1974

photo courtesy Rick Horne

It looked quite different in black & white and shot from this angle.  Then, of course, there was the matter of the missing tracks. It had to be the same building, I knew that, but even so I pored over the two images comparing each feature with an avid scrutiny worthy of Sherlock Holmes or with the painstaking devotion of an archaeologist about to unlock the secrets of an ancient culture.  Finally, I concluded it was definitely the same building.  There remained but one mystery:  why was the old station now so far from the tracks?

Once again, I found the answer while looking for something else.  It was contained in Michael Kluckner's research notes for his book "Vanishing British Columbia".  Kluckner, renowned for his water-colour paintings and his love of heritage, carried on a conversation with 450 British Columbians on his website about their "roadside memories" then headed out on the road to find these places and remember them in water-colours.  There is a link to his online notes in my links.

He noted in 2001 that the railroad had moved the train station away from the tracks to save it from demolition; presumably, so that it could be restored by the Boston Bar-North Bend Enhancement Society.  In 2011 a correspondent wrote to him that no progress had been made on restoration.  Though the Enhancement Society held a lease on the building no agreement had yet been reached about the land on which it sat (I'm assuming it is also held by CN Railway).  By the looks of it in my photo, nothing has ever been done in the way of restoration.

 Boarded up buildings

Kanaka Bar, B.C.

I had never seen the old Boston Bar train station when it was still in use.  A place I had seen though and was familiar with when it was operating was the restaurant and gas station at Kanaka Bar.  So it was something of a shock when I rounded the corner on the stretch of highway between Boston Bar and Lytton and saw the boarded up buildings.  

The area known as Kanaka Bar was never really a settlement, not even an unincorporated one.  It is simply the name that the general area is known by.  Even so, the restaurant and surrounding buildings had the feel of a quaint little village.  In addition to the restaurant, there was a gas station & garage and three large two-storey houses which had the look of rustic ski chalets.  All of the buildings had the same exterior finish:  dark wood triangles up at the roof line and at the bottom, with a strip of white plaster in between.  I will swear that there was even an old wooden water wheel on the property, adding to the quaint feel of the place.  I've not been able to find it in any photographs though, so perhaps my memories have misinformed me this once.

Kanaka Bar Cafe, 2017

The Cafe wasn't particularly noteworthy -- it served a mix of typical highway cafe foods like hamburgers along with Chinese dishes -- nor did it have any historical significance that I can find.  Still, it is always quite sad to see buildings boarded up and abandoned, particularly ones like these which for so many years had been such a presence and a landmark along the highway. My mind always turns to pondering on the fortunes of the family for which this had been both home and business for so many years.

Coming soon:  The Highway that Time Passed By -- Part III, Lytton