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Francois Lake is situated in the geographical center of beautiful British Columbia. At 110 kms (68 miles), it is the second longest natural lake in the province. This pristine lake is located 30 kms (19 miles) south of Burns Lake BC and 10 kms (6 miles) west of Fraser Lake at its east end. Its altitude is 715m (2346 ft). The lake is cold and deep - some reports reaching as much as 1000 feet. The lake provides excellent fishing for rainbow trout and char(lake trout). There are several campsites and bed & breakfasts spread out along its shores. Fantastic sunrise & sunsets, especially during the winter, are awe inspiring. Tourists will find a variety of service outlets and craft shops to browse both in Burns Lake and Francois Lake. Nadina River feeds the lake at its west end and the Stelako River drains from the east end. Fishing in both river systems is available. Access to the lake is via highway #35 running south from Burns Lake or from Fraser Lake following the road along the Stelako River . One may cross the lake using a new modern ferry operating between Northbank and Southbank. The free ferry is equipped to carry all sizes of vehicular traffic. It's normal for Francois Lake to freeze over during the winter; some years thick enough to drive on. The ferry, however, has a strong hull is capable of breaking up the ice and maintaining an open channel and allowing the ferry to operate year round. According to the Encyclopedia of British Columbia; "Francois Lake got its current name by mistake. Traditional territory of the Carrier First Nations, they called it Nitapoen, or 'Lip Lake' because of its shape." "Early settlers mistook Nita for neto or 'white man' and the lake was named Lac des Francais because most of the early visitors to the area at that time were French Canadian voyageurs. It was then corrupted to 'Francois Lake' over the years." The lake and its several small communities have a long and interesting history beginning before the turn of the 20th century. |
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THE WOLF HUNT by Alan A Sandercott
The lake lies frozen its snowy surface scarred by the tracks of wildlife fading from view with the setting sun. Off in the distance a lone wolf's mournful howl shatters the silence of the night a signal to the pack. From across the lake they appear six in all they bound, trot, run eager for the hunt. A farmer hears the sounds snarls of the hunting pack the terrified cry of a deer driven onto the ice running for its life in vain. Slathering jaws tearing flesh muzzles stained with blood as the dominant wolves feed growling warnings to subordinates who wait their turn. By dawn the feeding's done the wolves move off across the ice walking slower now bellies heavy, appetites quenched disappearing into the morning fog. From dawn to dusk scavengers take their turn coyotes close from the shadows eagles descend precious little remains for the raven. Fresh snows begin to fall blanketing the bloody scene to the west the evening sky turns crimson and from across the lake a lone wolf howls. |
