16 Spring/Summer 2026 CLIMATE RESILIENCE THE ICE ROAD HOME Geographic housing inequities and the impact of climate crises on northern infrastructure F or more than 50 remote communities across the country, winter roads are lifelines. Without all-season access roads, ice roads are the only way to move crucial supplies for survival and development, including heavy building materials, fuel and bulk supplies. In Kashechewan First Nation in northern Ontario, the winter road used to open in December and stay open through April, allowing a period of four months to move what a southern town can order on a Tuesday and receive by Friday. But that window is shrinking every year, sometimes down to as little as six weeks or less. Nobody sees the change more than the people in community. Rachel Wesley, economic development officer for Cat Lake First Nation, manages the construc- tion and maintenance of winter roads in the area – specifically, the 167-kilometre stretch between Cat Lake and Sioux Lookout – and takes regular account of the state of the roads. The winter access road, which was built by her father in 1995 according to the Feb. 5 episode of CBC’s Now or Never podcast, requires annual building and maintenance of five snow bridges. “We bring a lot of our housing materials through the winter road,” Wesley shared with CBC. “We have a small time frame to do this. It becomes increasingly shorter with the warmer temperatures.” When the ice doesn’t freeze solid enough for safe passage, the trucks don’t run, and when the trucks don’t run, homes do not get built. For Indigenous women across northern Ontario, the shrinking winter window is the reason that three genera- tions may share a two-bedroom house, or why a mother cannot isolate a sick child. It is why, for too many women, home turns into a place of sustained, grinding stress instead of a place of safety. “I actually bought a snow-maker,” Wesley continues, asserting the need for creative solutions. A 2024 report from the Canadian Climate Institute, prepared by Shared Value Solutions, quantifies the trap. Through surveys and interviews with Indigenous housing officials across the country, the report found that First Nations face a cascading series of obstacles: geographical constraints of reserve lands, flooding, wildfire, extreme heat and melting perma- frost. One interview participant described how the original placement of reserves under the Indian Act left communities vulnerable from the start. “You’ve got reserve land which is usually put in remote, and I’ll say subpar land – where only fir trees grow, not oaks and things like that,” the participant said. “Once a fire catches, it intensifies quickly, and it’s a huge risk.” The National Indigenous Collaborative Housing Inc. (NICHI) is a national, Indigenous-led organization working to close this gap. According to NICHI, shortened winter road seasons have dramatically reduced the timeframe for transporting bulk building materials. What were once predictable delivery periods have become condensed, high- risk shipping windows. Communities are forced into “panic purchasing” with little margin for delay. When key materials do not arrive, entire construction seasons are lost and the housing backlog grows. Simultaneously, warming temperatures are destabilizing muskeg and permafrost. This requires fundamental adaptations to building design and foundations – adaptations that increase costs and require specialized expertise that is often unavailable in the far north. One housing official told researchers for the Canadian Climate Institute: “We are in continuous permafrost, and the ice roads are closing earlier than normal and often have weight restrictions on them, which means that no real goods can be transported. The cost of the building supplies goes up because most of them would have to then go up along the barge, but the water level is so low, so the other way is to fly. You do it or you don’t build it.” The result is a chronic housing shortage that leads directly to overcrowding, and that backlog lands hardest on women. Danielle Cognigni, director of business operations at NICHI, puts it simply: “Overcrowding makes it harder for women to protect children, care for Elders, manage illness and ensure safety.” Overcrowded homes are not a distant figure on a spreadsheet. They are a daily reality that compounds physical, emotional and social burdens. Women are often primary caregivers, and limited space makes it nearly impossible to manage respiratory infections or skin conditions when isolation is out of the question. “Especially when families are dealing with violence, mental health challenges or substance use in the home,” Cognigni adds. The Canadian Climate Institute report shows how housing quality compounds the crisis. According to Statistics Canada data cited in the report, 44.2 per cent of First Nations homes on reserve require major repairs to fix issues like defective plumbing, faulty wiring or structural issues with walls, floors or ceilings. For non-Indigenous households, that figure is just six per cent. “The current state of infrastructure in some First Nation By Bryan Hansen
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