Living in a place with such a beautiful landscape, where people spend a lot of time enjoying activities outdoors, environmental concerns are always relevant. One of the first residents to voice concern for the environment was Bill Bailiff, back in the 1950s.
John William Bailiff moved to Alta Lake from England and lived in the area for 45 years. Reportedly, his fiancé had died and left him heartbroken, so he picked up and moved to British Columbia. Bailiff joined a construction crew for the Pacific Great Eastern Railway, but in 1913 he had an argument with the foreman over the safety conditions of his work and ended up quitting. He then moved to settle at Alta Lake permanently.

(L to R) Bill Holloway, Jimmy Fitzsimmons, Bill Bailiff, Bill MacDermott, Alex Philip Sr. and Tom Wilson prepare to head out to Fitzsimmons’ mine, about 1916. Philip Collection.
Bailiff kept a whitewashed log cabin near Mons Creek and Alta Lake, as well as additional shelters at each end of Cheakamus Lake. He became an excellent trapper and would spend five weeks at a time out in the wilderness. He also had trap lines in the Spearhead Range and Callaghan Creek areas that he tended to over the winters, snowshoeing between them. The traps would catch wolverine, mink, marten, lynx, and weasel. One continual nuisance was squirrels that continued to get caught in his traps. In 1928, Bailiff caught 28 squirrels, so he froze them and stored them in his woodshed, where they were stolen by a marten and then hidden in a rockslide.
The summers were spent by Bailiff putting in railway ties and clearing trails around the lakes for the government. He was also a prospector, looking for copper on the Fitzsimmons side of Whistler Mountain. He and Bill MacDermott were looking for a vein that ran north from Britannia but, despite years of looking, they were never successful.

Bill Bailiff (far left) waits for the train at the Alta Lake Station with a group in 1937. Clarke Collection.
Surviving on subsistence living, Bailiff used any food available. He was known to make the best bread using potato water and Pip Brock, whose family had property on Alta Lake, said he enjoyed his time with Bailiff “sharing his bottled beer and Blue Jay pie.”
Bailiff was often chosen to be Santa Clause at school Christmas parties and the descriptions people remembered him by explain why he was a clear choice for that position. Brock said Bailiff “had a large belly which shook when he laughed,” and he was also described as a gentle man with round rose cheeks.
An active member of the Alta Lake Community Club (ALCC) and even president in 1958, Bailiff wrote an ongoing series about the history of Alta Lake and preserving the environment in the ALCC newsletter. He dedicated his column, which included pieces on geography, forestry, topography and more, to the one room Alta Lake School.

This illustration accompanied Bill Bailiff’s article on black bears in the Community Weekly Sunset in July, 1958.
While describing the topography of the area, Bailiff wrote that “Before the advent of the Pacific Great Eastern Rly in 1914 the only access to [Alta Lake] was by pack horse trail which ran from Squamish to Pemberton through a virgin forest of magnificent timber as yet unspoiled by human hands.” In the next issue, when discussing progress in the area, he described how the construction of the railway led to the “first despoilation (sic) of the forest.” He also talked about the Hemlock Looper and other insects that attacked the local trees in the early 20th century, the dangers of human caused fires in the area (including a fire by Green Lake supposedly started by a cigarette butt “thrown carelessly into dry slash”), and the decrease in wildlife sightings as human activity began to destroy habitats.
Although he spent a lot of time on his own in the wilderness, Bailiff was a well known and well liked member of the Alta Lake community until his death later in 1958.
I’m not sure if I ever met Bill Bailiff (I was 8 years old in 1958 and only a summer visitor), but I clearly remember the log cabin that was always referred to as his being just above the PGE section chief’s house on Scotia Creek, very close to the first school, which later became the community hall. In the 1960s, Karen Gow, younger daughter of station agent Don Gow, kept her pet burro, Adeline, in a little stable next to his cabin. I have never heard of Mons Creek — was this perhaps an earlier name for Scotia Creek? Mons Wye, on the other hand, was a well-known spot in those days and even had a whistle stop where you could board the train. It was named for the wye (where trains turned around) at the end of the track that had been laid at the time of the Battle of Mons (1914). Eventually, the train tracks went much further, and the wye fell into disuse, although there was still a spar tree there in the 1960s for loading logs, if I recall correctly. You would cross the long arm of the wye when walking on the path between Rainbow Lodge and Tapley’s farm.