Though I’m originally from Ontario, my family traces its roots back to British Columbia quite deeply. The fact that I was born in Toronto has as much to do with the Royal Canadian Air Force as it does with anything else: both Grandparents were enlisted, and moved frequently as a result.

Midway, BC is a town with a population of about 700 now. Like most small towns in British Columbia it’s dying—quite literally in this case, with an aging population and almost no jobs in town to attract new ones. It’s a charming place in the way that small towns can be, and a desolate place in the way they can also be. When I haven’t been in a while I miss it; when I’m there, I can’t wait to get back to Vancouver.

My family were early settlers in Midway, and farmed in the area for over 100 years. I have a branding iron from that farm in my one bedroom apartment: the kind of ironic accessory any hipster would love to have, but in my case it’s not ironic.

My family is a part of the history and culture in that part of the world, a history and culture that will slowly die as generations pass. We live in an increasingly urban society and young people from Midway and places like it gravitate towards Kelowna, Cranbrook, Golden and their ilk these days. Even these places seem small compared to Vancouver, but they’re the urban meccas of their regions. It’s a shame in some ways that this is happening, but it’s a natural evolution of a society that’s no longer tied to the idea of living off the land as it once was.

There was a time when people gravitated towards places like Midway, and this is the story of travelling from New Brunswick to Midway by horse, and how my family came to be out west. It’s worth reading.

The Bubars Coming West

Taken from the Boundary Historical Society Seventh Report 1976, pp. 46 - 51
By Beatrice (Bubar) Weed and Wesley Weed

The following story was found among the papers of Mr. J.M. Bubar. It was scribbled in pencil on the front and back covers of a B.C. Telephone Co. report (for the year ended 31 December, 1936). Although sketchy in places it does give us an idea of how difficult it was to reach the Boundary country in the early days.

The Bubars seem to have been always pioneers. They came from Massachusetts to the St. John River in Canada in 1765. Holding land first at St. Anne’s (now Fredericton), they sold that and moved up river to above Hanland. Increasing, they spread out, some back to the States, others West and ever West.

Came the date about 1878 when one, a married man, headed for the Red River country. Riel has been squashed and the west new and it was easy money for a worker. One year later back came the call “come”. Some trip for a young woman and three children. The train carried them down in to Maine, back in to Canada, over to Detroit, on to St. Paul, up North again in to Canada by stage and boat and at last in to Winnipeg. Sounds simple now but there were only poor cars, no connections, nothing but more or less, guess work with no conveniences.

Came 1888 away went the same man, older now, to scout out the land beyond the Prairie in the might Rockies. Back he came to the Red River in 1890. The mother and younger part of the family were sent east to revisit the scenery of their birthplace. The father and the two oldest children turned back to the mountains. Another year and again comes the call. But how much easier and straighter is this trip - Up the St. Lawrence, across Ontario, through the wilderness of the Lakes, on by rat portages, till soon they were in familiar scenes and with familiar faces too. They continued on out of Winnipeg, past the ditches in which the eldest of the family used to swim and as he swam, gazed across the endless prairie and wondered about the great mountains they had heard about. As they get farther west they pass numberless red elevators and farm houses said to be owned by Sir Lester Rey. On past Calgary they go, till waking one morning they find themselves shut in by rocks and trees and down below the river runs blue as the sky. Soon comes the Field hill, the terror of trainmen of those days, down the wicked Kicking Horse to Golden where it joins the mighty Columbia past Donald, then a wide open town where they leave the Columbia and head over the crookedest railroad ever built, Rogers Pass, and through miles of snow sheds till they cross the Columbia again at Revelstoke. Soon they leave the train at Sieamous. From here a line is being built into the famed Okanagan. Here the eldest boy gets in touch with his father by telephone - his first use of a phone. Now the adventure was getting different. The mother and smaller children and two nuns and much baggage were to go up on a speeder run by steam. The eldest had to go with two Chinese and help work a hand car (Chinese had been something far away, now they were nearly touching hands). The hand car caught up to the speeder, as it was so heavily loaded. I could carry no wood, so had to stop when it was needed. At Enderby, we met a work train and our father, and saw numberless Chinese. On the train we ran down past Armstrong (then known as Lansdowne) with its meadows and swamps. Soon the lights of Vernon were in sight.

Then on down the head of the lake to Okanagan Landing where the camps were. In the morning we looked on a new world - lots of sand and pines and bunchgrass - new to the prairie people and never seen further east. Part of the family came south on a boat, a small tug affair run by Capt. Shultz. Many are the tales told of him and his handling of boats.

A few days later mounted on a big horse the lad from the East was on his way with his eldest brother headed south for the lower end of the lake and more wonderful changes. All day they trotted, walked and galloped over rolling hills and by beautiful lakes till at last winding down a lane they came to the Mission, now Kelowna. Back a few miles from the Lake the Lequims had a big ranch, also a store and hotel. The latter was run by Mrs. Lequim, a pioneer of many gold rushes, Rock Creek in 1860 included. If we had only known we might have heard the history of our future home from a first hand source. We arrived in a heavy rain. The barn was crowded with horses and it looked as if ours would have to stay outside. A word from Mrs. Lequim and the barn was nearly emptied. They were just cowboys waiting for the rain to quit. Her word was law at the Mission. Next day the rain still poured but we prepared to start. Heading south over a large flat we struck the hills near what is called the New Mission now, therefore 1938. We climbed up and up leaving the pine for the fir and then fir for the Jack pine, which grew tall and slender, and on that day were covered with wet snow. There was no turning back, so cutting a Hudson’s Bay blanket in two, we wrapped it around us Indian fashion and it shed some of the wet. Many times we had to get off to get the horses over or under a jack pine. Finally the woods grew thinner, big pine more plentiful and soon we were riding in a park like country. Bunchgrass, sage bush and sand again appeared. We were nearing Penticton. We stopped at the Ellis ranch and ate with the crew and slept in the loft of a barn in our partly web clothes.

Now came the most serious part of our journey transferring seven people with one team and a saddle horse about 100 miles over hills and high mountains. Loading grub and bedding and six persons into the heavy wagon and with one person riding the saddle horse, we set forth. Till we reached Dog Lake the road was level and some places it ran in the water. Soon it started to climb and the travelling was slow. The first night we camped at a place called Hynis and it was the last house any of us were in till we ended our journey. From there on we crawled past Myers Flat, up the long pass to Fairview, which was booming. Then down past Hayne’s meadows to Kruga’s at Osoyoos and on down to the Border line. There we had to cross to American soil and stayed on it from Smith’s to what is now Chesaw (named after an old Chinaman who was there at the time). From the line it was a hard pull to Dry gulch the next inhabited place, but when we arrived there was no one at home. Trying to get part way up the mountains that day we kept on till dark following a hogback which was called a road. At dark we made camp and one rode back for enough water for cooking purposes. Next morning on we went up the same hogback till we thought we would never get to the top. But every mountain has a peak and soon we were in bunchgrass country and fairly level. It was beautiful country - wood in the south and grass and water everywhere. Soon we passed the “He He” stone - stone ledge sticking out of the ground. Indians and some white people used to leave gifts there. The legend was about a girl but I never heard much about it. “He He” in Indian means “good horse or a good dog” and so forth.

Soon we dropped down to Mary Ann Creek and after crawling up a long hill we slipped down to Myer’s Creek, almost too fast. McMynn’s ranch came in sight and then crawling up a long slope we could see the Kettle River down below. At Rock Creek we turned east and soon were fording the river to our future home.

I could go on telling you about the death of one of the children and nearly fatal sickness of another - for there were no doctors nearer than Vernon - The father’s ride of 150 miles in late December back to Vernon on a horse with only blankets for a saddle.

The arrival of the first mail about Christmastime when we sat up all night reading letters and papers about the life we had left behind - then waited a whole month for the next mail.

Today eight hours with a car covers the distance we took weeks to cover, but we got as much thrill our of that journey as a Lindburg or any transcontinental auto tourist and it was a greater feat of pluck and courage.

THE BUBARS IN KETTLE VALLEY

It was 1891 (a fact kept alive in C.P. Bubar’s cattle brand) when Mr. C.W. Bubar arrived with his family in the Boundary district and settled in their log home located on the north side of the Kettle River about a mile west of Ingram Ford, where a bridge was eventually built.

Mr. Bubar had first seen the property in the spring when the hills were green and the creek was running full down the hillside between two beaches. It was this sight that made him want the property. He bought the pre-emption from Mr. John McCallum who had moved across the river and taken up another pre-emption which he sold about twelve years later to the Kettle River Fruit Co.

Not much is known about those early days on the farm. There were no records kept and those who could tell us (in 1976) have passed on. We do know that at first they tried to raised sheep but gave that up because the wild animals killed too many of them. Cattle thrived and were the main-stay of the farm. As well many horses were raised. Mrs. R. Pawsey remembers seeing and being interested in the many colts that grew up at the S. Bubar place. There was always keen competition between farmers and when horse races were held at Midway on the 24th of May and 1st of July celebrations.

Probably at about the same time that the Kettle Valley Fruit Co. got started, orchards near the creek flumes were built to run water to the trees. The orchards flourished for years and always there was a sale for the fruit, mainly apples, in Greenwood.

The boys and their father worked together on the farm, but from time to time the gather went to log at Golden. In 1900 he was drowned while working on a big drive. After his death the boys carried on the farm work but eventually Bayard and Charlie left to start farms of their own in Beaverdell. Stanley and Frank became partners and often their mail came addressed as “Bubar Bros.”

In 1907 or 8 Frank married Morah Sorby, a school teacher who taught in Rock Creek. They located at the foot of the hill a mile west of the family home (which had been built of logs a short distance from their original home). At first, Frank and his bride lived in a small log house then a frame one was built. No doubt they settled where they did because there were springs in a grove of trees on the hillside a quarter of a mile north of the house. The water was piped down the hill and the same springs are in use today. For many years the S. Bubars had a windmill that pumped water into a tank. The water was used by the animals as well as for domestic purposes.

Stanley and his mother lived on in the big house. In 1919 he married Miss Winnifred Haynes. An English Lady. His sister, Beatrice had married Mr. Arthur Hamilton and lived in Golden.

[Stanley Livingstone Bubar was born in Hartland New Brunswick on April 9, 1873. He was a farmer in the Kettle Valley. Winnifred Haynes was born in England on May 16, 1894 and came by boat to Kaslo B.C. and got her first job as a maid.]

Bayard Bubar married Miss Elizabeth McIntyre.

Charlie Bubar married Miss Virgil Powers.

Around 1910 the C.P.R. purchased land from the Bubars in order to continue the railway to the coast. Since the railway ran parallel to the rive it did not spoil the property too much. (Indeed, in later years the C.P.R. fence became useful as part of a private telephone line between the S.L. and F.M. Bubar households. ) Crossings had to be made in the railway so that the Bubars could reach their fords.

The famous Dewdney Trail went through the Bubar property running parallel to the river and railway. Sixty years ago it was easy to see. Now [1976] it is ploughed up and covered with alfalfa.

As in other parts of the district Indian relics were found on the Bubar farms. As late as 1937 F.M. Bubar says in his diary, “Found an arrowhead today near where I found a hammer.” On the field west of S. Bubars there were many mounds. The Indians probably pitched their tents on them.

On the bench just north of his home Mr. F. Bubar found a hole. He liked to think that it had been used by the Indians to hide in while they waited to shoot the passing game or enemies. Whatever it was used for, it is still there and measures 52 inches across the bottom and 15 inches high.

Situated near the foot of the hill just west of Stanley Bubar’s home is a family graveyard. Buried there are: Charles W. Bubar - 1849-1900; Sophronia, his wife - 1853-1928; Their son, Miles T. Bubar - 1885-1891; (Another child died back east) Infant son of S.L. and Winnifred Bubar - April 1930; Stanley L. Bubar - 1876-1937; Frank M. Bubar - 1877-1938 and his wife Norah - 1880-1952. Mrs. S.L. Bubar died on December 24, 1965. She was cremated and not buried in the family plot. Mrs. A.C. Hamilton died on February 28, 1963 and is buried in Golden.

There was a grave just west of F. Bubar’s barn (clearly seen 50 years ago). Stones, all about the same size, were carefully laid out on it. There was another like it at the west end of the bluff over which the Bubar road runs. Just off the Bubar property on what used to be the Richter property, there is another grave surrounded by a picket fence. No ones knows who was in these graves nor whether they were Indians of while fold.

There was rattlesnakes on the Bubar property. They had a den under a big rock not far from the graveyard. Each spring when they first came out F. Bubar would go and shoot some of them. He had medicine ready to be used if someone got bitten. No one did but a horse died from a rattlesnake bite. It still pays to be watchful as C. Bubar killed one not three feet from his home last year. His dog barked and told him it was there.

As on all farms fall was a busy time for the Bubars. After the hay had been bound into bundles and stacked it had to be threshed. Farmers helped each other - the threshing machine going from farm to farm. The old steam engine and separator had to be checked, water and wood hauled for the engine, enough men hired to do the work and teams and wagons made ready to haul the grain.

In the early days the threshing machine had an elevator that carried the straw away. This machine belonged to Mr. Lander and Mrs. C.H. Weed. Later models had a blower that made the pile of straw.

The women were busy too, making pies and cakes and preparing a lot [of] food to feed the hungry men.

For the children it was a time of sheer delight. In the early morning they thrilled to the whistle of the old steam engine. At breakfast what fun to have two porridges to choose from! On the way to school how fascinating to watch the chaff blowing from the blower into a big straw stack.

In the old days during the summer there was nearly always a haze of smoke on the hills. It was made by forest fires. Since they did not have water bombers to stop the fire before it spread, they sometimes lasted for weeks. 1929 was a very dry year. In his diary Mr. F. Bubar says “No rain till June when it rained quite a lot. Quit end of June and has not rained anything more than sprinkle. Crops all dried up July 25th. If it had rained last fall we would have had a good crop. Rained for an hour on August 2nd - first for a month - rained a few drops on the 19th - Whole country is burning up. A big fire on Boundary Creek heading for Main River. Will come out at Waddell’s. Another at Boundary Falls and another at Norwegian Creek and one near Camp McKinney. Another came over the mountain from the west and joined the last and came down in Peanut Point and Beaverdell came seven miles in one day. They stopped it at the railroad and road and river but are not sure if it is out yet. August 22nd Bayard and Charlie brought their families out to be sure, and to give themselves a chance to be of some use. They went home yesterday. No change in the weather but a little cooler. September 3rd - still no rain with fires all over the country. Down at Republic they have 1600 men working. Up here it is still raging. Also on boundary Creek over towards the Main River.”

The S.L. Bubars had a family of Six: Anne, now Mrs. L. Lobb, Trenton, Ontario; George, now living in Midway, B.C. He Married Alberta Watling; Betty, now Mrs. G.I. Peters, Edmonton, Alberta; Margaret (Bunty), now Mrs. D. Bridgeman, Vernon, BC; Stanley in Kettle Valley on the farm, he married Dorothy Chipping; Arthur, Oliver, B.C., he married Beryl Stanbury.

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This entry is tagged: Bubar, Family, History, Midway