A Little Perspective

Members of our group had joined the Canoe North Adventures journey for different reasons. Some were inspired by literature, some keen to encounter their country’s remote beauty and others were drawn by the promise of a good old fashioned adventure. All were Canadian and so took it upon themselves to introduce me to Canadiana. I heard the poetry of Robert Service, sang the songs of Stan Rogers and learnt that life in Canada’s south is always improved by tire d’evable, hot maple syrup that is poured onto snow, cooled and rolled up like taffy. As summer camp is such an iconic part of a Canadian childhood, it seemed that everyone came with a wealth of canoeing and camping experience. Fire pits were no problem, cooking and cleaning rosters never debated and paddling advice keenly handed out.

It’s almost odd how quickly a group can come together, personalities shining through as city formalities, and cares in general, are cast aside. It could seem daunting, canoeing 400 kilometres through the Northwest Territories, but these companions mean you’re never alone and never too worried – even when they’re attempting to convince you that porcupines explode and ground squirrels have a fondness for warmongering

Given such tales, I felt prepared for the inevitable animal encounters. Our first occurred when we exchanged canoes for hiking shoes and set off up a mountain, leaping over streams and scrambling over rocks when necessary. Suddenly our ascent was interrupted by a commotion in the woods to our right. Trees here may be thin and low but they grow close together and all we could make out was the sound of something large and skittish. After a few uncomfortable moments of bracing ourselves for a bear appearance, a moose emerged, clearly trying to figure out what on earth we were, and promptly made for the path below, disappearing once more into the trees.

Moose are magnificent but my favourite moment was shared with a porcupine who I watched waddle along a sandy beach at 1 a m. while my fellow travellers sipped Scotch and baked brownies over the fire, the sun low yet ever-present. These encounters mean different things to different people. For some birdsong is a chance to practice their harmonising and for others the sight of a crane may be a message from departed loved ones.

That’s what this setting does. It adds meaning. As Pace explained from the stern of the canoe one day, Ranger asleep at his feet in a position most yogis yearn for, this is the sort of trip that inspires life changes. Travelling here you gain a degree of clarity. You forget your stresses and worries – how could you entertain them in a place so immense? – and instead become lost in the moments you have on the river, the beauty, adventure and joy. You find the fun in looking for stones, in feeling the sun on your back and the flow of the water, and embracing the life of a nomad. Why wait to experience true wilderness? This is the real world, the natural world, the one that matters.