REGINA — Every wetland drained and every acre of native prairie lost in Saskatchewan makes the province more vulnerable to flooding, poorer water quality and disappearing wildlife. But two experts who spent weeks cycling across the Prairies say the solutions already exist, if people are willing to act.
Conservation photographer Michael Forsberg and ornithologist and wildlife ecologist Dr. Andrew Caven recently cycled more than 4,000 kilometres along the migration route of endangered whooping cranes, documenting the condition of grasslands and wetlands stretching from Texas to Saskatchewan.
Photo captured by Mariah Lundgren
The journey, called Pedaling the Whooper Highway, began May 11 and ended June 28 after 49 days on the road. The pair followed an ancient migration corridor through the heart of the Great Plains, inviting people to join them along the route while sharing stories about the communities, habitats and wildlife connected to the landscape.
What they found in Saskatchewan was both inspiring and troubling.
"The rate of habitat loss in Saskatchewan surprised and disturbed me," Caven said. "We actively saw small aspen groves being taken out to put in more cropland. I was hoping to see some bigger expanses of grass in northern and central Saskatchewan than I did."
He said the loss of native prairie isn't just affecting birds.
"We have things in North America that, in 20 or 30 years if this keeps going, could be gone," Caven said. "If you really love wild places and you appreciate passing on that legacy to your children, that's a really inspiring reason to get involved."
Photo captured by Michael Forsberg
Forsberg says the health of Saskatchewan's ecosystems affects every resident, whether they realize it or not.
"People think their water comes from the tap," he said. "But the answer really starts at the headwaters of your watershed or the aquifer beneath your feet."
"In order to have safe drinking water, we have to have intact grasslands that surround intact wetlands and healthy river systems. Their story is also our story."
During the trip, Caven said some wetlands near Meacham contained some of the highest nutrient levels recorded during their entire journey.
"We expected some of the most pristine wetlands in Saskatchewan," he said. "But some of those potholes were highly eutrophic. There were lots of nutrient inputs and algae. We didn't expect that."
The consequences reach well beyond wildlife.
According to Ducks Unlimited Canada, wetlands naturally filter pollutants, recharge groundwater, reduce flooding and slow spring runoff. When they disappear, communities often face more expensive water treatment, damaged roads, overwhelmed stormwater systems and higher crop insurance costs.
More than half of Saskatchewan's residents depend on water from the South Saskatchewan River Basin, making healthy watersheds critical to the province's future.
Forsberg says much of the damage has happened gradually, making it easy to overlook.
Photo captured by Mariah Lundgren
"Watching these grasslands and wetlands disappear isn't like watching a mountaintop being mined or a rainforest being clear-cut," he said. "It's this slow, incremental disappearance that's almost imperceptible until it's almost gone. And once it's's gone, it's gone."
He believes one of the greatest challenges facing conservation today is public indifference.
"If it doesn't matter to me in my own life, then I don't care what happens," Forsberg said. "But we should, because we all have a stake in it."
The two say the whooping crane has become an ambassador for the broader landscape.
Photo captured by Michael Forsberg
Despite the challenges, both men say Saskatchewan is also home to some of the most encouraging conservation efforts they witnessed.
Organizations including Ducks Unlimited Canada, ranchers, Indigenous communities and conservation groups are restoring wetlands, protecting native prairie and improving grazing practices that benefit both wildlife and agriculture.
However, Caven and Forsberg argue more needs to be done at the policy level. They point to Saskatchewan's Agricultural Water Management Policy, which allows farmers to drain between 70 and 100 per cent of wetlands on their land, while irrigation projects may drain all wetlands within a project area. They say the policy does not require water quality standards for drained water, contributing to nutrient runoff that can fuel algae blooms in lakes and rivers.
"We need a complete transformation of how we're looking at rural landscapes in the Great Plains," he said. "It's not anti-economic growth. It's about sustainability. It's about long-sighted versus short-sighted thinking."
He argues governments should continue encouraging precision agriculture by focusing crop production on the most productive land while restoring marginal farmland back to wetlands and grasslands.
"That actually benefits everybody," Caven said. "It benefits water quality, water availability, birds and the economy."
Photo captured by Mariah Lundgren
Forsberg agrees conservation and economic success can work together.
"It's not about pointing fingers at what's been lost," he said. "It's about asking, 'What can we do from here?'"
He says Saskatchewan still has extraordinary places worth protecting, including Last Mountain Lake National Wildlife Area north of Regina, North America's oldest federal bird sanctuary, along with Nicolle Flats Nature Area near Moose Jaw and Saskatoon's restored Chappell Marsh Conservation Area.
Residents who experience those places firsthand often understand why they're worth saving.
Photo captured by Mariah Lundgren
"I don't want my children to only know about these birds or these grasslands or these wetlands from a history book or a museum," Forsberg said. "I want them to experience them like I have."
For Caven, the future depends on scaling up the work already happening across the Prairies.
"We encountered all kinds of people doing the right things," he said. "It's just a question of getting them to scale."
Forsberg believes that starts with conversation.
"That's always the first step in conservation," he said. "Having conversation built out of a basic appreciation for something."
And after thousands of kilometres following one of North America's rarest birds, he remains convinced Saskatchewan can still change course.
"We're all sharing this planet together," Forsberg said. "If the story of this bird connects us, moves us to protect these habitats and the places we call home, then that's a big win. I really do think we can."
Photo captured by Michael Forsberg
