The Great Descent to Take Over Our Rivers

Sunday, September 22, was a little warmer than average for a fall equinox day. So it was under a radiant sun—and after checking the Montreal Marathon route three or four times—that I left my island to head to the Rivière du Nord, near Mirabel.

There, 220 pilgrims of all ages, from all over Quebec, were waiting for me. They were equipped with paddle boards, kayaks or canoes, all of different qualities, from recreational to elite sport. There was only one wooden canoe, Paul Piché’s. I will come back to Paul a little further on, when I board the rabaska, this large canoe that can hold several people and was originally designed in bark by the Algonquians. Ours seemed to me to be made of fiberglass, but I have no expertise in watercraft, so I could be wrong.

Around 2:30 p.m., as the launching of more than a hundred rowing boats was being completed, local dignitaries cut the ribbon stretched from one bank to the other. A horn sounded: the start was given. The objective: to go down the river for about ten kilometers, a journey of about two hours to reach our drop-off point. The multi-colored flotilla began to move forward, one stroke of the oar at a time.

But what the hell were we going to do in this mess? We were invited by the Fondation Rivières to participate in the first edition of the Grande Descente. I was there as the patron of the Rivière du Nord, a role that consists of giving a voice to a river that needs love. And there are many rivers in need of love in Quebec, far too many!

This initiative aims to remind people of the importance of rivers in our ecosystems, but also to demand better public access to the banks. “Water is a collective resource, but the banks are increasingly privatized. Access to water as a fundamental right is slowly slipping towards privilege, to which not everyone has equal access,” summarizes the Fondation Rivières, well known to the general public because of its famous figurehead, actor Roy Dupuis.

Since 2001, in concert with preservation organizations, citizens’ committees and regional county municipalities (RCMs), the Rivières Foundation has been trying, in various ways, to improve water quality and preserve the natural character of our splendid waterways. On Sunday, after the famous descent, we had to hear founder Alain Saladzius express concern about the impact of Bill 69 ensuring responsible governance of energy resources.

It must be said that this bill modifies the threshold from 50 to 100 MGW for the development of run-of-river dams by the private sector, which could give rise to multiple projects on small and medium-sized rivers without the participation of Hydro-Québec. In the middle of the speeches by the various speakers from the Foundation, I turned my gaze toward the audience. I observed this motley crowd, sometimes angry, sometimes full of hope. It was beautiful and determined, this citizens’ assembly that came to proclaim its attachment to our blue gold.

But let’s get back to Paul Piché for a moment, if you don’t mind. He arrived at the Grande Descente with a smile that was impossible to hide under his cap. The singer-songwriter ofHappy with a spring and of The staircase makes no secret of it, boating is a passion for him. He was therefore delighted to row alongside us, proud and noble, in his magnificent wooden canoe. At the end of the day, he made us sing The streams with the complicity of the fabulous tenor Marc Hervieux. It was moving to see these handsome lads sing in unison their love of streams. A real moment out of time, as is sometimes needed to give importance to things.

I learned a lot of things during this Great Descent. In fact, Robert, a historian, was also on board the rabaska and told us about the past life of the Rivière du Nord. As we glided along the water, we noticed that the banks were unoccupied. Robert asked us why we thought neither the Aboriginals nor the settlers had lived on the banks of this river. I dared to answer, or rather, I hammed it up to hide my ignorance: “There was too much poison ivy!”

Not surprisingly, the Toxicodendron radicansor sumac, had nothing to do with the fact that no one chose to settle on the edge of this territory. Rather, it is explained by the fact that the river bursts its banks dramatically in the spring and during some heavy summer rains, which has the effect of making the surrounding area uninhabitable. However, the river was later used to establish various mills because of its interesting flow. Robert is fascinating and he managed to make me forget the fact that I had already been rowing for an hour, something that the pain of my hip bone on the hard wood of the canoe bench finally reminded me of.

Taking ownership of our rivers, discovering their history, sailing or swimming in them should be natural actions. However, this is unfortunately not the case almost everywhere in Quebec. It will take a high level of political will to achieve this. In the meantime, citizen mobilization remains our best paddle to row in the right direction and thus advance the debate.

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