Quetico delivers two special last days... And a race to the finish!

Howard writes...

At just on midday, in perfect sunny, blue sky conditions yesterday, our amazing expedition ended at the boat ramp at the north end of Nym lake.  Having crossed the boundary of the regional park some few kilometres earlier, we had experienced a bit of a change back into civilisation. There are lots of islands on Nym lake, and many of those outside the park have holiday houses on them, and are serviced by motor boats, so the whole environment suddenly changed from the pristine wilderness of the last 11 days. Paddling through this transition section gave us a chance to chat about the truly special adventure we had experienced together, and I sensed, with both of us, there was a sense of sadness that it was rapidly coming to an end.

To keep us in a positive frame of mind I reminded Imi that we were still in a ‘race’ and needed to stay focused, paddling right to the finish line!  “A race?” I hear you ask. "Where does a race fit in?”  Well, Howard must have been suffering from withdrawal symptoms and, as we approached the last portage of the trip, the one that took us into Nym lake,  we started encountering civilisation, in the form of other canoeing expeditions. Up until then we had been on our own, but this final day brought on the contact with others, my extroverted side could resurface from hibernation, and so the inevitable competition. (Gee I had been paddling against myself for 11 days, with no daily ‘performance benchmark’, surely one day’s competing ‘fun’ is allowed!) 

We arrived at the start of the 750m portage and there was a whole lot of gear all neatly standing together waiting for the return of its owners.  Aah, some other canoeists, already in the portage, time to explore. We went through our now well-drilled portage routine, Imi loaded up his backpack, and started heading off down the portage trail, while I readied the canoe and other stuff for my two journeys. With my backpack and canoe on my shoulders, I soon passed Imi, and then about half away along the portage there were the four ‘same age’ guys, returning to collect their stuff. They politely stood aside as I was given right of way with my canoe load, and we exchanged cordial greetings, as I confirmed they were worthy participants in ‘my’ race. (They clearly were unaware of the race they were competing in, but that didn’t matter to me!)  With largely very good portage conditions underfoot I was soon at the other end, dropping off the canoe and my backpack, while giving myself ‘a few seconds’ to evaluate their ‘next leg’ racing equipment: “Wow, fancy, ultra-light Kevlar canoes, but untidy bags and probably more than what we had, so that’s good!” No time to waste, I’m heading back to collect load two, even though I know I’ll probably have to wait for Imi... There is no logic in all this, but that’s not important, it’s the release of this sudden-build up of testosterone on meeting civilisation that’s important! 

After about half way, I come across Imi. He is in his paradise, zig-zagging on his own challenge, but there is no race in his mind, just a feeling of freedom, as he feels the confidence the 11 days of bad portage trails have benefited him, and he feels how comparatively easy this portage is for him. He told me afterwards how much extra confidence he now has to ‘just walk off and explore’, no matter how difficult the terrain is and whether there is a path or not... Strangely for me, I didn’t even try suck Imi into ‘our’ race, I had too much respect for what he had conquered and what he was dealing with, and I knew with his introverted disposition there was no testosterone build-up inside him, so how could I ask him to share my ‘problem’?  This was a strange competition I was in, hey!

Anyway, I bumped into my competitors on their return, all loaded up with backpacks, and the one guy cynically quipped: “I saw your bag there, standing on its own, and almost brought it along to help.” And he was a competitor, “Why would he say that then....?” I somehow got even more energy, setting myself a goal to try and get back to the canoe before they did!  Just a  goal, no idea whether it was achievable, but it felt good. I passed Imi again, and his progress confirmed that I would be waiting for him, while our competitors packed their boats and gained time, but somehow that had no bearing on the game, it was just part of the rules, and I was really happy with that... The lake launch spot at the end of the end of the portage was quite small so it was quite cramped preparing three canoes together, but it made for good socialising with the competitors. Clearly they had chatted with Imi along the way, as they already knew we were both exotics, me from South Africa, and Imi with his diverse exoticness, so the conversation went around their fishing success, and their home towns in the US. As Imi approached, sometimes wandering off track, I sensed they didn’t really know how to deal with ‘us’ as a strange team, who weren’t fishing but were just canoeing and having fun with the hardship of endurance paddling/portaging. Maybe they weren’t racers then, the quality and lightness of the boats just for show, or to clear their consciences to enable them to carry even more unnecessary gear!

I was pleased as we were in the water paddling, just minutes after they were underway... We had made up serious time on the portage, and now all that was left was the final 3-kilometre paddle to the ‘finish line’! I let the testosterone flow freely as I put power into my strokes, but on these ‘traditional’ single-ended paddle canoes, if one person paddles too hard the boat either goes around in a circle, or needs serious course correction strokes that almost defeats the object of the additional power. So:  “Was I to get Imi roped into this race, or was I going to reluctantly withdraw?”  A natural thing happened. Imi must have sensed I was paddling harder and without word from me, upped his game a little, and we had soon caught up, and then were passing both our competitors.  This was the moment to share our achievement with Imi, hoping to spur on his commitment to his pace and subtly suck him into the race. Hmmm, the opposite happened as he seemed to slow down again. I accepted there was nothing I should, could, or would do, other than just keep my side of the power going as best I could.... 

Aah, Mother Nature came to ‘our’ aid: As we cleared a headland, we were suddenly in a fairly strong crosswind, with the wind and waves pushing the bow of the boat continuously upwind.  The perfect present: I shouted to Imi to swap paddling sides, and bravo, the ‘Imi/Howard’ paddling power imbalance was now perfect for naturally correcting the effect of the wind and waves. Our canoe took off like a rocket and we ended up surfing the waves, leaving our competitors struggling in our wake...  I asked Imi, “Can you feel how fast the boat is going, and how it’s surfing the waves, man?”  He replied with a sense of pure joy in his voice:  “I just love it, buddy.”

Although the story of this final ‘race’ is seemingly so removed from the tranquillity and solitude of our 11 days, I have purposely told it in the detail I have, because it has so many of the dimensions of our rich adventure: The inner struggles, the different yet in-sync personalities, the solo journeys, yet a common shared journey, the unspoken team work, our ability to achieve our own very personal and challenging goals, yet not compromise the team, our ability to be ourselves without negatively affecting the other, and the sense of passion and joy we both experienced. At heart we are both solo adventurers, but circumstance have brought us into an almost unlikely ‘team’ situation, and we managed to work out a formula that gave us the best of both worlds.  I hope in my story, you get this specialness.

Now back to the last two days.....

After the heavy rains I described in the last blog,  we were hoping for an overnight stop, and an awakening to a nice clear day. Well, it wasn’t to be: Mother Nature seemed to want to punish us for our excessive public holidays, as we woke to rain pouring down. With the ‘pressure’ of our schedule now demanding a hard day ahead, we were forced for the first time to pack up tents in the rain....  Somehow a strong sense of purpose and ‘overcome the challenge’ kicked in, and spirits were pretty high for the circumstances. Breakfast was a make-do affair, and we were soon out on the lake, paddling in the rain towards the first of our six portages for the day. The portages were very wet and marshy underfoot, but somehow, around mid-morning, Nature seemed to have changed its mood towards us. The clouds receded, replaced by a clear blue sky, and wonderful warm sunlight. That was how the rest of the paddling and portage day was: just splendid weather that helped us deal with the long 7-hour day. The one portage was our longest yet, at a kilometre, and I must say that I was totally spent at the end of it. It took Imi one hour to do the portage, with conditions underfoot horrendous, but the team made it.

We found a lovely campsite, where we would spend our last night out, and on the longest day of the year. Would nature allow us to experience its extended sunlight hours?  Well, this Quetico is challenging:  Just as we were about to start building our tents, the rain from nowhere starts bucketing down.  A huge black cloud had blown in, yet mostly all around was blue sky. Imi insisted on building his tent in the rain, while I withdrew to protection under the trees.  I watched in true admiration and awe, as Imi went about determinedly building his tent, seemingly unaffected by the pelting rain. I felt this call inside to offer to help, but I knew the rules: He never wants help to build his tent, and his stubbornness had led him to deciding to build the tent in the rain against my suggestion. It was truly humbling to watch, and hard to explain how one feels as a sighted person. Anyway, 30 minutes later my wait had paid off and the cloud has passed over and we had blue skies again.  The rest of the afternoon was just perfect, and we were provided with the opportunity to see the longest day of the year’s full show of light, with a perfect, almost violet, sunset reflecting across the lake. Just on sunset, Imi and I took the canoe out onto the lake to experience the extreme stillness, and just the sounds of the loud frogs and birds. Fringing the lake edge, stopping occasionally to drift aimlessly this was a great way to spend our last night out in the wilderness.

The next day we woke at 5am to the very best morning of the trip, a crimson-coloured lake and a clear sky above, clouds on the horizon. With the only portage of the day being the one I describe above, we had 10 kilometres of wonderful paddling, and this clear weather kept up for the whole day. The perfect end to an otherwise challenging-weather trip.

I’m writing this blog from our hotel room in the quaint town of Virginia, Minnesota. It’s a typical old historic town for this part of the US. The main street reminds me quite a bit of the cowboy feel of Dawson City, at the end of last year’s Yukon River trip. Virginia is larger, and the main street is more commercial, but the architecture and plethora of authentic eating and drinking saloons is similar.

We both plan to post one more wrap up blog in the next few days, and I will include some photos from the adventure. You will be notified by email as usual.

Cheers for now

Howard

Read Imi's blog from the same day. 
Read Howard's previous blog post.