The Highlands Scenic Drive

The old Highlands Scenic Drive right-of-way forms part of Dawson and Kinnaird Ravine Parks’ trail.

  • Location: Dawson / Kinnaird Park between 67th and 82nd Streets

  • Constructed: 1932-37

  • Decommissioned: 1975-78

In 1927, A.J. Davidson, a local coal magnate, came to City Council with an idea. He painted a picture of a sweeping east-end highway, “a drive of some five miles along the Saskatchewan river.” His primary concern was “access to his mine from Jasper Avenue,” but the idea had merit. Edmonton’s only major east-west connection in those days was 112th and 118th Avenues, blocks north of his proposed road. If a street was built along the valley bluffs, travel times between the Highlands and downtown could be halved.

Yet, five years passed and Davidson’s project wilted in the face of indecision and tightening municipal budgets. It wasn’t until the Great Depression sunk its teeth into Edmonton’s already troubled economy that politicians clambered to make the idea a reality. It’d be an excellent make-work project, and Alderman Herbert Baker in particular — a Highlands resident himself — took a shine to it, promoting the road as a made-in-Edmonton solution to the city’s Depressions woes.

Baker initially envisioned an extended Jasper Avenue, continuing east along the bluffs to Virginia Park, but it soon morphed into a “gently-inclined drive” along “the bank of the river, and across the mouth of Rat Creek and thence in a north-easterly direction leading up to Ada Boulevard at or near the intersection of 71st. Street.” It would tap “the entrance of Rat Creek ravine, one of Edmonton’s infrequently explored beauty spots” and through it, Edmonton would be “able to display proudly one of the finest civic beauty projects in Canada.” 

The alderman didn’t cut a striking figure. He was old, white haired, and round faced. Thin wire-framed glasses pinched a big nose. He preferred bow-ties, and pictures in the local papers suggest he liked flaunting two-toned Oxfords. But beneath his bank manager-like appearance was a fiery spirit. He’d been a successful branch director for the Massey Manufacturing Co., donated time to the Rotary Club, and was a member of the Edmonton Exhibition Board. When Baker wanted things done — especially an easier drive home from work — he got them done. 

While serving a brief stint as Acting Mayor, he decided to ram his cause through. Construction was unanimously approved by him and him alone, and work on the west-end section of the Highlands Scenic Drive began on July 31st, 1933.  To say his fellow aldermen were unimpressed would be an understatement. In the Edmonton Journal’s words, it “caused a near flare-up at the regular meeting of that body […] As it was, some of the remarks carried danger signals of more trouble if a report to be made by the commissioners is not satisfactory.” 

Councilman, and future mayor in waiting, Harry Ainlay, was most vocal in his contempt. He demanded an inquiry into “what authority the Westend portion of the work was commenced,” and called for all construction to “be discontinued forthwith and all monies available for grading and gravelling be used on streets and lanes where people live.” 

Now, the City had been eyeing the prospects of the Highlands Drive seriously for some time, and it had been approved in principle the previous year. To Baker though, that wasn’t enough and given the chance he took it and ran. When Mayor Daniel Kennedy Knott returned to Edmonton shortly after, Baker’s act of sedition was headline news. Knott was nothing if not politically expedient, and denied any involvement in Baker’s scheme almost immediately. “The instruction was signed by the acting mayor,” he deflected.

Baker disagreed. When reporters from the Journal hounded him for comment, he was as cool as could be. He “had discussed the matter with Mayor Knott before the Mayor went on his holidays last July and also had discussed it with [City] Commissioner Mitchell.” The stout alderman dryly explained “that work was authorized by Council in 1932 as soon as satisfactory finances could be arranged. Finances were arranged and work started.”

Distrust brewed and the matter wafted over Edmonton’s municipal affairs like a foul stench for years afterwards. Any misstep by the civic government was sure to be followed with reference of Baker’s folly. Although his action wasn’t overturned, successive councils, of which he was never reelected, failed to deliver on his road. Excuses were made, and year after year the Highlands Scenic Drive was pushed further and further to the back-burner. 

By 1937, all Baker had to show for his political suicide was a graded trail. It was unpaved, unfenced, and unsafe. A new Council, helmed by Mayor “Fightin’ Joe” Clarke, urged construction to be cancelled once-and-for-all. Persistent problems with their main contractor, W.E. Gibb, necessitated it in the Mayor’s view. A motion to withhold payment, and halt construction until their grievances were resolved was put forward. Clarke refused to continue the project “until I am forced to, and if anyone wants a lawsuit, let him try it.”

Public opinion was split. One Edmontonian — pen-named “Taxpayer” — wrote into the Journal, summing up the thoughts of some. “His Worship Mayor Clarke is to be congratulated on the stand he has taken in regard to the City Council spending thousands of dollars on the Baker scenic highway to the Highlands. The matter is more serious and deplorable due to the fact that there are streets in the heart of the city that are axel-deep in mud at the present time… When in the name of common sense will we get men to administer the spending of taxpayers’ money in a sensible way.” 

To others, the idea of a ‘scenic drive’ was always a stupid proposition. Another Journal writer-in, Gladys Reeves, described the beauty of the river valley in depth. She curtly continued, saying “[one wonders] if the real beauty of the bank is best not viewed better from the top road, rather than cutting a gash right through the centre of those lines of beauty and thereby destroying fully a third of the growth as in the new scenic drive-way [on] Jasper east. To us it is like trying to view a beautiful picture by standing in the middle of the canvas.”

Baker and his followers were quick to counter. “That roadway will be a valuable addition to the City’s facilities for motoring and must be completed now.” “Council already authorized the work and the mayor cannot order it stopped,” Baker explained. “Nothing should prevent the completion of the project as soon as possible.” The Alberta Motor Association soon pledged their support behind him, saying it would be “an addition to the attractions and beauty spots of Edmonton.”

Mrs. A.C. Jackson, of 6420 Ada Boulevard, wrote into the Journal after touring the partially-completed road:

“I have heard criticism of [Baker’s] judgement, concentrating on this type of drive, when so many useful things are needed in the city, and must confess, I have myself doubted the wisdom of it. Having returned from a walk over this new road, I feel instead of criticizing Mr. Baker’s idea, I for one would hope to thank him for pushing ahead with the work, in spite of strong opposition. The road opens up to every person in Edmonton a new bit of loveliness, which in the past, only very few had been able to see. Lovely bends in the river — and just now the foliage is a delight to the eye. I feel sure this road is going to be a source of delight to the walking and riding public.”

— Edmonton Journal, October 13th, 1937.

The question ultimately went to vote on September 13th, 1937. “Despite renewed, vigorous protests by Mayor Clarke who still thinks the ‘the whole proposition is preposterous,’” Council voted to continue on with the road. For Alderman Clevely it was best to put the matter behind them and look forward to new projects. “After spending about $30,000 on the road up to now, I want to see at least the grading finished.”

That happened in October and a grand opening followed later that year. The Journal candidly summed up the whole affair best: “With the completion of the grading of the new roadway… the people of Edmonton will be able to judge the new beauty spot for themselves.” 

To Baker it was a massive win. Every week, he had went to City Council to speak his mind, and when work faltered, demand it continued. Every week he had watched the ongoing construction and toured the site like some kind of self-appointed supervisor. Every week, he had picked weeds, and tended to flowers planted by his few supporters. For the better part of five years he had been the Drive’s sole advocate, and now he had something to show for it.

It’s sad then that he didn’t get to enjoy his road for long. Two-and-a-half years after its opening, Baker suffered a case of acute blood poising and had his right leg amputated as a result. His health never recovered, and he passed away in his family’s home on December 21st, 1941. Baker’s one-time strongest critic, Harry Ainly — along with Mayor John Fry, and Aldermen Douglas, Paterson, and Ogilvie — gave a brief tribute to “the late alderman and civic leader, praising him for distinguished public service, courtesy and fairness” at the following day’s City Council meeting. The Journal rightfully eulogized him as “one of the city’s strongest advocates for municipal planning and civic beautification.”

The Highlands Scenic Drive lived up to all of Baker’s hype, and for five decades it was a preferred shortcut among downtown travellers and nature watchers alike. As the years passed, however, worsening road conditions, an unstable bank, and shifting policy surrounding the North Saskatchewan River valley — with an increased focus on recreation and conservation — spelt its demise, and between 1975 and 1978, the City undertook a naturalization programme. Bolstered by a $40,000,000 Provincial contribution, the area around the Drive’s right-of-way, including an ex-dump, were transformed into the emboldened Dawson and Kinnaird Ravine Parks. All that remains of Baker's pet-project is a dirt walking trail along the road’s old path.

With that, it’d be easy to think Baker left no tangible legacy. Between being unceremoniously booted from office in the 1933 election and his road gone, it’d certainly seem that way. But Baker’s pleas for a scenic highway influenced another project. In late 1936, with the lessons from the Highlands Drive learned, City Commissioners suggested the creation of the “Victoria Park Driveway,” a project that eventually became today’s River Valley Road. The City used his playbook verbatim. Beautification and the creation of pedestrian and vehicle pathways along the banks of the mighty Saskatchewan were emphasized. “Such a road, treed and landscaped would prove an addition to the City’s parks system,” they said — judging by the number of bikers and runners you’ll see along it all year round, I think they, and Baker, were right.

Image Gallery:

Sources:

  • “To Finish Grading Scenic Drive,” Edmonton Journal, September 14, 1937.

  • A.C. Jackson, “Scenic Drive,” Edmonton Journal, October 13, 1937.

  • “Finish Grading Highlands Drive,” Edmonton Journal, October 14, 1937.

  • “Wants Drive Completed,” Edmonton Journal, October 22, 1937.

  • “New Scenic Drive Nearer Completion,” Edmonton Journal, October 15, 1937.

  • “Herbert Bakers Wed 50 Years; Are Celebrants,” Edmonton Journal, June 2, 1939.

  • “H. Baker Recovering,” Edmonton Journal, March 8, 1940.

  • “Ex-Ald. H. Baker Dies at 75 Years,” Edmonton Journal, December 22, 1941.

  • “Council Tribute Given Ex. Ald. Baker,” Edmonton Journal, December 23, 1941.

  • Dan Powers, “Home for Parkland Decision Questioned,” Edmonton Journal, July 26, 1975.

  • “Dawson Park Braille Trail a New Dimension for Blind,” Edmonton Journal, May 2, 1980. 

  • City of Edmonton, Dawson Park and Kinnaird Ravine Master Plan (City of Edmonton: Edmonton, AB, October 2019), 8,

    https://www.edmonton.ca/sites/default/files/public-files/assets/Dawson_Master_Plan20191128.pdf?cb=1625599446

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