Rail policy requires overhaul

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Large silos rise above the trees between the tracks near Mathers Avenue and Lindsay Street. (MIKE DEAL / WINNIPEG FREE PRESS) Photo Store

IT seems incredible that eight massive metal silos could rise up along a railway right-of-way in a dense residential neighbourhood without the slightest whisper to a municipal or provincial official, or to the neighbours, but that’s the nature of the frequently dysfunctional relationship between transportation companies and urban centres in Canada.

The north-south line is owned by BNSF Railway, which leased land near Lindsay Street and Mathers Avenue to another company, Fort Distributors of Winnipeg, owner of the silos. The containers will be used to store a variety of products, including concentrated salt water that’s used to keep dust down on gravel roads.

As a federally regulated institution, the railway was not obliged to disclose how its land would be used, but it’s unclear if Fort Distributors was equally immune from municipal or provincial oversight. The city’s legal department is looking into the matter.

BNSF apparently has plans to build transfer stations at other locations along the line in River Heights, apparently to move goods from trains to trucks.

Combined with the silos, this new development will alter the character of the neighbourhood, not just in appearance, but also in the new truck traffic, noise and pollution that will be generated.

Again, it seems remarkable that this substantial reorientation of the district can unfold without a process.

It’s also unclear at this time why BNSF or Fort Distributors didn’t locate their silos and transfer stations south of the city, where truck traffic would be easier. It would also be closer to the gravel roads that are apparently the target for the salt water.

On the flip side, railways have complained in the past that municipalities frequently plan new developments without consulting them about the impact. Railways, moreover, were here long before most of the inhabitants, which gives them special rights and privileges. If people choose to build houses next to rail lines or airports, is it fair to demand that these companies alter their business models or move away?

The abrupt installation of 15-metre-tall silos in River Heights, however, is a good example of the need for protocols that would require both sides to keep the other informed of their plans.

Residents were worried Fort Distributors might store hazardous goods in the silos — it won’t — but if not now, could they do so in the future without notification?

Federal and provincial regulations on the storage and transport of hazardous materials would apply, but there’s no guarantees the silos would never hold dangerous products and it’s not clear what kind of notifications would be issued to residents.

Cities historically chased railways, frequently offering subsidies or bridges at no cost, in order to lure them to their borders.

That’s how Winnipeg, and not Selkirk, which was less prone to flooding and, therefore, a safer place to build rail bridges, secured the main CP Rail line in the late 19th century when the city aspired to greatness.

The relationship has been less cosy, however, for at least 40 years in Winnipeg, which has frequently clashed with rail companies, either because they were in the way of development or a blight on the inner city.

Rail lines have also forced cities to build grade separations as vehicular traffic increased over the years. The conflict between transport firms and cities is a problem in most provinces — some B.C. residents are even demanding the relocation of grain terminals on the coast, which they believe could be better used by people — but it will only get worse until all the parties develop long-term plans.

It’s long past time that railways, provinces and municipalities figured out a process for living together. The current legal framework is an anachronism that no longer reflects the urban fabric of the country.