The Flathead Valley’s Leading Independent Journal of Observation, Analysis, & Opinion

31 March 2010

Loren Kreck

Loren Kreck and Geoff Harvey Loren Kreck, friend, fellow hiker and wilderness advocate, naturalist, cartoonist, and above all, humanitarian, died on 26 March 2010. He was 89. That’s Loren on the left, next to Geoff Harvey, admiring the Canadian Rockies in the distance while taking a break before finishing our climb of Mt. Thompson-Seton in the Whitefish Range. Update: printing file for Loren in his Bennington cap.

That’s the image that flashed in my mind when I learned of Loren’s passing. It was a memorable autumn outing, bushwhacking through grizzly country before breaking out into the open highlands and finally the summit ridge. Few peaks offer as spectacular a view of the Livingston Range and rugged spine of the Canadian Rockies. Loren, of course, was hoping to see a grizzly. So were Geoff and I, but we differed with Loren on how close an encounter we preferred. The difference was academic. Our sole whiff of a griz occurred a hundred yards from Geoff’s car when we almost stepped in a huge pile of purple grizzly scat, still steaming.

Loren converted hundreds into advocates for wilderness with hikes like that. And he loved the Flathead’s North Fork, much of which remained as wild as it was in 1846, when the U.S. and the United Kingdom settled their differences over the Oregon territory by agreeing to place the international boundary at the 49th parallel of latitude. That agreement prevented war, but at the cost of bequeathing to future generations the problems that derive from straight line boundaries.

Atop Mt. Thompson-Seton that afternoon, we discussed how the Buchanan-Pakenham Treaty affected the Flathead River Basin. Most of the 8,000-square-mile basin is in Montana. But thanks to Buchanan-Pakenham, 600 square miles of the basin, the unsettled headwaters valley of the North Fork Flathead River, is in British Columbia. And under the Canadian Flathead’s forests and meadows there are hundreds of millions of tons of metallurgical quality bituminous coal, potentially worth billions of dollars.

Loren knew — we all knew — that as long as the coal stayed in the ground, the rivers and streams would run clear, and grizzlies, elk, and believed some, mountain caribou, would occupy their native habitat. He also knew that no mining operation could be clean enough to protect the North Fork. And by the early nineteen-seventies, plans were afoot to dig 100 million tons of coal out of Dilly and Dally Hills, less than ten miles northwest of Glacier National Park, and right next to the North Fork river.

Loren and the rest of us concluded that only a bilateral agreement between Canada and the United States would provide durable protection for the Canadian North Fork. He worked tirelessly for decades achieve that goal, writing letters, delivering testimony, recruiting activists, encouraging young scientists.

Last fall, the hard work of Loren and many, many others, paid off. British Columbia and Montana signed a memorandum of understanding that will, provided the necessary legislation is enacted at the national level, put the British Columbian Flathead off limits to hydrocarbon extraction.

A fortnight before Loren died, defenders of the Flathead’s North Fork received a short handwritten message from Governor Brian Schweitzer:

I appreciate all you’ve done to help protect the Flathead River Basin. Thank you for your hard work!

Loren surely received one of Schweitzer’s cards, for he did as much as anyone, and more than most, during a decades long campaign to protect the area’s priceless and internationally recognized resources natural resources from coal mining in British Columbia. And how fitting that he lived long enough to witness the successful conclusion of that campaign.

Loren Kreck, September, 2009 Last September I encountered Loren for the last time, at a rally for health care reform at which I spoke. His age was apparent, but the old twinkle still brightened his eyes, and his mind was as sharp as ever. Was I surprised to see him there? No. His efforts to protect wilderness and wildlife were just one facet of his efforts to better humankind. As a dentist, and as a human being, he knew our health care system needed improving. And so, at an age when most men warm themselves before the fireplace, he was in Depot Park, among friends, lending his support to the cause, activist and humanitarian to the end.

Download printing file for Bennington cap image.