Williams Lake sits at the heart of the Cariboo-Chilcotin, a city of just under 11,000 people (10,947 at the 2021 census, up 194 from 2016) built around forestry, mining, cattle ranching and the highway trade that runs up and down Highway 97. Tolko Industries and West Fraser run four sawmills between them employing roughly 870 people, Taseko Mines operates the Gibraltar copper mine south of the city, and the Williams Lake Stockyards on Cattle Drive still anchor the region's ranching economy. It's an economy that works — but it's also one that runs on thin margins, seasonal swings, and a small customer base that has to be actively won, not assumed.
We've watched what happens when the mills slow down. When Tolko's Lakeview Division and Soda Creek sawmill went through temporary curtailments over the 2024–2025 winter — a mix of high fibre costs, soft lumber and plywood markets and US tariffs — the pain didn't stay inside the mill gates. It showed up in slower weeks for the trades, suppliers and downtown retailers along Oliver Street and Mackenzie Avenue who depend on mill payroll circulating through town. Software can't fix a tariff or a fibre-cost problem. What it can do is help a Williams Lake business absorb the swings: tighter inventory and scheduling systems, automated quoting and invoicing, and websites that keep bringing in ranching, forestry-worker and highway-traveller business even when local foot traffic softens.
Then there's the staffing side. Housing costs and outmigration have made it genuinely hard to fill and keep positions in trades, food service and forestry-adjacent work here, and the city hasn't forgotten July 2017 — the wildfire evacuation that shut Williams Lake down for close to two weeks and, by business owners' own accounts, cost them 20 to 30 percent of their staff for good. Add in the uncertainty around Thompson Rivers University's Williams Lake campus, which is under review for possible closure by 2028, and the local pipeline of trained hires looks less reliable than it used to. That's exactly the environment where automation earns its keep: not replacing people, but making sure the people you do have — and the systems around them — aren't the reason growth stalls.
We're a remote-friendly, AI-first studio, which matters more in a city 285 km up Highway 97 from Kamloops than it does somewhere with a dozen web shops downtown. You don't need to drive out to find us, and you don't need to settle for a generic template because a specialized vendor is inconvenient to reach. Whether you're outfitting a business near the Gibraltar Mine site, running a shop out of Boitanio Mall, or serving the Cariboo-Chilcotin from downtown, we build the software, websites and automation that fit how Williams Lake actually works.