Fish Lake Métis Settlement is a land of cultural pride, the great wintery outdoors
CBC's virtual road trip series Land of Living Stories explores hidden gems across Saskatchewan
This story originally published on March 11, 2022.
CBC's virtual road trip series Land of Living Stories explores the hidden gems across Saskatchewan.
We're one kilometre into our snowshoe expedition, and we're sweating from the effort of bringing up 15 pounds of snow with each step.
It's an unusually warm day in north central Saskatchewan at a balmy -1 C. The region, 40 kilometres from Prince Albert, Sask., has had an unusually large amount of snow this year.
Angela Bishop breaks the trail ahead of me. This is more than she signed on for, but she's here for it.
This could be because Bishop is "a winter child." As a Métis girl raised in Green Lake, 48 kilometres northeast of Meadow Lake, she spent hours a day outside in the snow dog-sledding, snowshoeing and playing with other children in the Métis settlement.
"I was born in the wintertime, so of course I always associate winter with celebrations like my birthday and Christmas. There's some good things that happen in winter," Bishop said.
Bishop remembers snowshoeing by the creek that ran behind her house as a little girl.
"I'd get to a certain point where I get tired and I just flop back in the snow and just lay there and look at the sky. I remember that feeling of how wonderful it was just to lay back after doing that work. Just having that feeling like, wow, this feels so nice. The cool air is invigorating."
That connection to the chilly outdoors prepared Bishop for one of her biggest accomplishments. Bishop has walked five kilometres outdoors every single day for five years, whether it's -40 C or the opposite.
WATCH| Angela Bishop has walked 5 kilometers outside every day for 5 years no matter the weather:
It started out as a one-year commitment.
"The year ended, the 365 days, and then I went, 'well, I'll go again.' But I never made a promise, and then I just kept going," said Bishop.
"I'm not going to stop now. And if I can inspire somebody to do something kind of consistently every day for themselves, because I do this for me, I hope that it helps to enhance their lives."
Bishop is a lawyer, but she manages to live a rural, outdoors-focused lifestyle, which she says connects her to the land and her Métis roots.
"I just feel that connection. Without a doubt my choice to live in this area and to live in the north and to live closer to where I can enjoy life … it's because it's consistent with the way I want to live."
8 families displaced
As Bishop tells her story, we are snowshoeing four kilometres from her house to the Fish Lake Métis Settlement, located about 40 kilometres north of Prince Albert. Our destination is a camp kitchen called Carol's Kitchen. There Tina Settee, a Métis woman who grew up in Fish Lake, is making us fresh bannock, beans, hot dogs and hot tea.
Carol's Kitchen was built in 2015 by community members for community members, using old power poles. It's half open to the elements and shelters two old stoves.
"It's family oriented. It's a safe place where you want to be, and there's no alcohol or drugs allowed. That's the main important thing that we try to push for. And being stewards of the land, we try to foster the nature. That's a big thing for me.… Mother Earth and reconnecting to nature," Settee said.
It is one of the only structures that stands in Fish Lake. But that wasn't always the case.
Bryan Lee is president of the Fish Lake Métis Local 108 and a passionate advocate for his community.
Lee's ancestors traditionally lived in Wood Mountain in Southern Saskatchewan. Then in 1885, the resistance by the Métis people under Louis Riel began. Many Métis felt that Canada was not protecting their rights, their land and their survival as a distinct people.
Lee is the great-grandson of a Métis man named Louis Lavallee. Lavallee moved his family from Wood Mountain to escape the rebellion and settled at Pelican Lake, which is situated in what is now the Waskeseiu Lake area in Prince Albert National Park. But they wouldn't be allowed to stay there.
After the area was turned into a park in 1928, those who lived there were forced to leave, according to Lee.
"The federal government started moving First Nations people away from their residences in the park. In all of their cases, they had reservations to go to. But the Métis had nowhere to go. This is when Métis started to become known as road allowance people. So my great grandfather moved out of his residence," said Lee.
Lee said a total of eight families that were made to leave Pelican Lake in the park headed down to Fish Lake, located southeast of what is today Prince Albert National Park. Great-grandfather Lavallee died in 1935 at Fish Lake.
Another Métis man made to leave the park, James Settee, petitioned the government for a land base for the eight families. He later became a reverend.
Decades later, Lee became very involved in researching and documenting the history of these eight families in Fish Lake. He began advocating for the area to be designated a heritage site.
"Fish Lake had been renamed and they renamed it Ross Lake, and I didn't agree with that,"
Lee got the original name reinstated in 2010. Then Lee and others got the Fish Lake site reviewed by the province. In order for the area to be named a heritage site, the Métis Local 108 had to name a person of prominence. They named the Reverend James Settee.
Historically there were 12 homesites on the Fish Lake settlement, two of which remain today. One of the houses belonged to James Settee.
Lee and the other Métis people of the Fish Lake area were successful in getting Fish Lake a heritage designation. Now the site is protected.
Each year at the camp kitchen, the Fish Lake Métis community hosts feasts for the descendants of the original eight families that were displaced from Prince Albert National Park.
Today, ask anyone who is a member of the Métis community there and they will tell you that the land is extremely special to them and connects them to their ancestors.
"Everything. Everything. It means everything to me," said Lee.
"At my age now in my state of vulnerability, if you will, sometimes I find it difficult not to become emotional when I talk about the land."
In the future, the Métis Local 108 would like to see a cultural centre built on the site with historical information and photos. They would also like to perform cultural practices there.
Traditional lifestyle
Jason Surkan is one of the Fish Lake community's young leaders. He is vice president of Fish Lake Local 108 and an intern architect. Surkan is passionate about serving his community in any way he can.
When he's not helping plan Indigenous and Métis building projects, he's outside.
"It's a unique way to practice architecture where I'm based close to the land and I'm able to get out on the land during work breaks where I can go cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, hiking … we can hunt here from home."
Surkan said his family lives a traditional sustenance lifestyle.
"We have all the modern conveniences that everybody has. But as much as possible, we try to procure our own land-based foods, whether it be going out ice fishing and harvesting and processing and sharing our catch with elders in the community and then with friends and family, or hunting."
Dearest to Surkan's heart is ice fishing. During those feasts at Camp Carol, Surkan comes to the kitchen loaded down with fish to share. But Surkan's generosity is not a once-a-year thing.
"We're always trying to share with community members, elders and those in need. My grandma and mom, they grow a huge garden. We share it with a lot of people," he said.
"It's kind of that sharing of food and sharing of feasting.… This forms the basis of native culture."
Beauty in solitude
Tina Settee is the granddaughter of Reverend James Settee. She was raised by her grandparents and, in many ways, the nature surrounding her home.
"Since I was about, I don't know, five, I would wander off by myself out in the bush," Tina said as she poured us more hot tea at Carol's Kitchen, which was named after Bryan Lee's sister.
"I would just wander off the path and do a little detour in the forest, and I got time to just sit there by myself all day. And just to connect. A lot of my youth was spent sitting under a tree. Spending time by myself. I thrive being alone. I thrive from solitude."
The solitude that the Fish Lake forests allow Settee have helped her professionally.
Up until recently, Settee worked as licensed practical nurse in a palliative ward in Prince Albert.
"The first two years of that career was really hard because you're dealing with death and dying all the time."
Settee said work became a little easier after she dealt with the reality of her own eventual death. Reconnecting to the land and the forests brought Settee the peace and resolve to continue the work.
"Every day a person is dying. So you have to just live and just be happy and be grateful and just live each day of life to the fullest and don't take life for granted."
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