When I attended the ICA Mountain Cartography Workshop in Banff last spring, I was encouraged by a number of people there to consider printing and selling maps of my local area. Most of this last winter has been taken up by the production of this map, which was printed in April and is now available at Interior Stationary in Smithers, BC.There are a number of goals coming together here. From a cartography perspective, the idea was a map that would feature rich shaded relief generated in Blender. From a community perspective, the idea was to produce a map that represents the amazing topography of this area, that draws you in and makes you want to go exploring.
Every map is a story, and maps, being deliberately authored, contain bias. In this case, I wanted the story to be about the terrain — the mountains, rives and lakes — and my bias was to emphasize the romance of landscape at the expense of the technical ways we divide it up. So missing from this map are all those lines that chop up a landscape: town boundaries, ski area boundaries, recreation site boundaries, private land designations, First Nations reserves and Regional District subdivisions. Even provincial park boundaries got the axe, because while on the one hand a park indicates a piece of the landscape to be preserved from development, on the other hand is the implication that outside the boundary anything goes. Park boundaries on maps suggest that only within the line is the higher quality landscape. I wanted to avoid that suggestion.
As a concession to practicality, most roads are named and you can use it as a road map. But it’s not one of those maps where every road in the provincial database is present. I left out the vast majority of forestry roads, including only those mainline roads which are commonly driven. And here too bias plays a part, because although I’ve lived in the valley for 20 years, my notion about what roads are “commonly driven” will differ from someone else’s.
As another concession I put in some point markers for those small provincial parks, or recreation sites, where a person can camp or picnic. I did this because, like roads, these are important landmarks for people.
Trails are not shown on the map, partly because at this scale, 1:150,000, you can not use it as a trail map, but also because I didn’t want to suggest that trails are an important interpreter of the landscape. When you put trails on a map they stand out as a travel network, perceived in the mind not unlike a road network. We think that where trails go must be better than where trails don’t go. I didn’t want to bias the viewer in this way.
The colouring of the map is derived from land cover data, which is essentially a satellite or aerial photo that someone has looked at and classified into zones of different stuff. Coniferous and deciduous and mixed forest are all identified, as are ice and snow, bare rock, built-up areas and shrubland. I’m a big proponent of the idea that a map should faithfully give you the colours of a landscape before you ever arrive in the area, so the colours I chose were keyed to the summer landscape here — and consequently there’s a whole second possible project of a winter map of the valley. I think the colours work pretty well, although it’s something of an idealized summer landscape. For example, there are no lingering snowpatches such as one would actually see. It is quite clear how coniferous forests dominate upper slopes while the valley bottoms are full of cottonwood and aspen. You see how south facing slopes are different from north-facing. Given that it can’t account for how light changes throughout the day, it’s a pretty good representation of what we see.
Naming is an interesting area in map-making. If you publish an article about how such and such peak should be named after your uncle Fred, people will agree with you or not, but you’ll be known as having proposed that name. However if a map-maker puts a name on a mountain or creek, no one really questions it. Maps are seen as authoritative.
But names can be seen as impositions on the landscape like other lines. Does it improve this river that we call it the Bulkley River? Would it be a better river if it was labelled the Wedzenkwe? Or is it best not labelled at all? I made a decision to go with the naming of features that reflects the British Columbia geographic names database — in other words, the names that appear on most maps and with which most map-readers are familiar — but I’m not entirely comfortable with this. For example, I’d like to see a version of this map with Wet’suwet’en and Gitxsan names on as many features as possible.
We have a lot of unnamed features in this area — or, I should say, features without official names. I hope that this map will act as a lightning rod for name information, that people will give me local names and I can add them on to future editions, and thus substantiate them.