On Roads, Rivers, and Restraint

What travelling New Zealand’s roads made me rethink about transportation challenges back home

I spent part of the holiday break thinking about transportation in British Columbia. It has been on my mind because one of my last meetings before turning off my computer for a few weeks was with Ministry of Transportation and Transit contractors discussing the proposed highway project through Goldstream Provincial Park.

The Ministry wants to reduce accidents and improve safety. Their engineers have designed a solution that achieves what the Ministry prefers, a consistent driver experience along the route. So what they produced is as wide a highway as possible, with a centre barrier, regardless of geography.

In addition to being a critical transportation corridor connecting the south and mid-Island, Goldstream is a vital salmon river for the W̱SÁNEĆ people. So, for the last three years, my father, Carl, has been protesting the potential destruction of the Goldstream River as a result of the project.

The financial cost of the project is estimated at $160 million. The ecological cost includes the removal of upwards of 700 trees and the destruction of critical salmon spawning habitat loved by thousands of residents, First Nations, and tourists each year. The social cost is a more complex balancing act of safety, convenience, drivers’ desire to move quickly through the corridor, and pre-Confederation treaty rights.

My thinking on transportation has also been shaped by my time as the Member of the Legislative Assembly for Saanich North and the Islands. I heard a steady stream of complaints from constituents about the poor quality of local roads.

This was especially true on the Southern Gulf Islands, where road surfaces and centre and fog line paint deteriorate faster than the provincial treasury can afford to fix them. These roads are rarely a priority because transportation budgets are tight and traffic volumes are low, so upgrades are continually deferred.

Over the holidays, I have been travelling in New Zealand with my family. With a population similar to British Columbia (around five million people) New Zealand’s population is also concentrated in a few large centres, with many medium and small communities spread across beautiful mountainous, coastal, and agricultural landscapes.

As we drove through the countryside, I noticed several things about their roads that are worth reflecting on at home.

First, returning to the Goldstream dilemma. If the goal is to improve safety by reducing collisions, there may be a simpler, more cost effective option available. Wire median barriers take up far less space than concrete dividers. When paired with modest speed reductions and clear signage, they can improve safety while respecting difficult geography, constrained finances, and sensitive ecosystems.

Second, I was struck by the quality of rural highways. Growing up in Central Saanich, many of our roads are chip sealed. Like the Southern Gulf Islands, New Zealand faces enormous costs in laying new pavement, and chip sealing appears to be used extensively as a practical, lower-cost surface treatment.

Driving on the lower-volume rural highways reminded me a lot of my time driving on the Southern Gulf Islands with their narrow roads, limited shoulders, challenging terrain, and drivers moving faster than conditions often allow. The noticeable difference was the condition of the road surface itself.

This may sound overly simple, but perhaps it is worth asking whether we should be chip sealing more of our rural roads, more often. This could be a good option to improve quality, extend road life, and make better use of limited public dollars.

Goldstream is more than a transportation corridor. It is a river, a park, and a sensitive salmon ecosystem. It is a place that we have a responsibility to respect and stand up for. If we can learn to build roads that respond to that complexity, rather than flatten it, then safety and stewardship do not have to be in tension.

Travelling through New Zealand was more than a much needed break, it was a reminder that we are not unique in facing difficult terrain and tight budgets. We should be open to smaller, place-specific solutions, because safer roads do not always have to be bigger ones.