For those that follow Back To The Land, my apologies for not keeping up with the 1-3 stories per month as promised when you first signed up for these updates; I realize now, I'm barely delivering the minimum. There is a lot in the archives that I'm excited to share, with more portraits and stories over the last three years including Manitoba, Alberta and North West Territories. Bear with me here, grab a seat, coffee if you have the time, and enjoy.

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Northern BC has spoiled my wife with over 5000 kilometers of spectacular landscapes using ferries, paved highways, logging roads, and anywhere we could safely take our vehicle. Wildlife sightings were constant, sometimes closer than a zoo spectator, and bear encounters exceeded past twenty. Cooking roadside is the norm and always one of our favourite activities which usually included a view or trekking down a ditch to a mountain lake. It's not glamorous, or the most comfortable way of traveling and the weather brings its own set of unexpected challenges. However, rainfall on your tent while you sleep during the spring months is soul rewarding, and one-pot cooking really saves on the dishes. With five people photographed in May of 2016 who willingly shared their stories between Jasper and Stewart, I managed to meet one more person. That man is Dan Lewis. 

Dan was born in 1944 in the suburbs outside Oakland, California. Like some, Dan was born into a middle-class home and had horses growing up, and as time went by, the family seemed to be moving closer and closer to rural living. In 1971, Dan moved to the Kispiox valley on a piece of property where he still resides today. At the time of his arrival, the land needed maintenance and Dan started using draft horses to help with the heavy lifting. During this period, no one in the area was working with horses, and his interest in the animal got the best of him. It was an easy decision, and he enrolled himself in a course to become a farrier. 

Down a maze of backroads from which I had to stop and ask a stranger, confirming I was going the right way, we made the trip further into the Kispiox valley. We drove through a gate and were welcomed by a couple of energetic dogs, what looked like a newly built home tucked amongst the trees with a garden ready to feed a small village. Dan shortly meeting us as we stepped out of the vehicle. Dan's physical appearance exudes history of someone working on the land and with animals. His hands were the size of baseball mitts along with their worn leather exterior. His hair was unkempt with a beard to bring all my expectations together; gentle and kind but a human of few words. We were given the grand tour with the three of us happily walking amongst the property, spring in full bloom, the grass growing long, and flowers proudly displaying their colours. Dan brought us to a small log cabin on the property covered in overgrowth, that clearly was losing a battle with the outside elements. This was the first home he built along with his wife Mavis and their two kids. They lived a very simple life, growing their own food, tending to people's horses which included a regular hour and a half drive to Smithers. "I was never interested in office work and couldn't sit still"..." Sometimes, this job can be interesting, especially when you have a recalcitrant horse. There's always the possibility of being trampled, kicked, or your tools slicing you. At the end of the day, I have no regrets, and the job served me very well".

Dan was very comfortable having his portrait taken, and I decided to have him sit on the tailgate of his little pickup truck. His set-up was simple, a box of tools, an anvil, and a propane forge for heating the shoes and any alterations needed before fitting the horse. Each having its own spot with no need for big fancy equipment. I thought this was quite fitting given this type of work has been around for hundreds of years.

Now, Dan spends his time tending his garden, a steward to his land, floating down the river and hiking in the summer and trading his boots for cross-country skis come winter. "These days, I'm 95% retired, but I'll still do the odd trim".

I hope you've enjoyed reading these stories and appreciate all the kind words and support. If you or know anyone who lives in a small town or remote area anywhere in Canada, and I mean anywhere, I would love to hear from you. Feel free to reach out via the contact section.