Tumbler Ridge has lost another of its pioneering spirits of the early days.
Bruce Butcher moved to Tumbler Ridge with his wife Marilyn after graduating in 1988 with a degree in Mining Engineering from Queen’s University. He then started work at the Quintette Mine before moving to the Bullmoose Mine in 1991. Bruce and Marilyn left Tumbler Ridge in 1995.
From his parents he had learned a love of nature, and he wanted to be outdoors in any season, exploring the backcountry on cross-country skis or on foot, on a mountain bike or with a backpack. Bruce was an avid cross-country skier, and was the guiding force behind the creation of the local cross country ski trails and the ‘Wolverine Nordic Ski Association’. Over time this morphed into the Wolverine Nordic and Mountain Society (WNMS). Bruce can therefore be remembered as the founder of WNMS.
Bruce was known to many as ‘MacGyver’, after the TV character who could fix or create anything with minimal tools. One creation was a backyard greenhouse, where some of the roof sections would automatically pop open for air ventilation when it warmed up to a pre-programmed temperature.
Bruce’s friend and fellow-TR-pioneer Al Tattersall shares memories of Bruce which capture his spirit and drive, and remind us of what he did for our community:
Tumbler didn’t have ski trails. Bruce said “no problem, let’s make some”. There wasn’t a ski club, no track setter nor sled to pull it with, nor a biathlon in the summer, nor cross-country ski racing in the winter. Bruce said “no problem, let’s organize those things”. No snow even by January for the Northern BC Winter Games in Tumbler Ridge that one year? No problem, Bruce rallied the troops and got a new trail built at higher elevation. In the nick of time the snow fell on the golf course trails, but Bruce made sure we were ready with the plan B, no problem. His enthusiasm was infectious; he wouldn’t take no or even just a wishy washy yes for answer. People got on board, and I believe Bruce won most of those upgrades to the ‘strong yes’ with a smile.
It was the same back at school, with the intramural sports at Queen’s. The Mining Engineering faculty was always at the top of the stack on participation points for all of the time Bruce was involved; he organized that too.
Oh, and was there a remnant viable road to this obscure lake, or with maybe a rumoured-to-exist potentially good fishing hole? Yeah, no problem for Bruce’s Willy’s jeep, until it broke down, indicating the need for a ridiculously long almost-bushwhack home on the almost-ex-logging road. The ever faithful “Prairie-dog” dog was dragging her tail by the time we found Bruce late, late at night still walking home. No problem for Bruce. He got the rest of a night’s sleep and went back on the almost-ex-logging road with tools and his other vehicle the next day. Marilyn called us again that next night, and the troops were elated to ride off to the bush after Bruce again. Everything looked about the same when we met up with him, once again dog tired and halfway home. This time Bruce looked tired too, not just the dog. So now there was a partially-fixed Willy’s jeep and a more-than-partially stuck family truck, all the way back on that almost-ex-logging road that allegedly led to a lake nobody knew about where there might have been fish. It’s hilariously more fun to help your good friends to get un-stuck than it is to get stuck yourself. Absolutely no problem.
Bruce always gave more to his community than he ever took in return, and in the best of ways. Those were the best of times. They were the best of times with our never-say-die friend Bruce.
Bruce loved to wear his engineer’s Iron Ring. His work took him exploring all over the world and led to treasured friendships. He is gone far too soon. Our sympathies go to Marilyn and their three children Amelia, Aubrey and Garnet. His family have asked simply for any of us who knew Bruce to go on an outdoor adventure and cherish his memory, or to make a donation to the Lymphoma Society of Canada.
