Images from the Quetico Adventure!

I apologise not sending photos by sat phone, but as you can see even the text was a challenge!  So here below are nine quite different photos taken from our trip that hopefully give you some further feel of what the experience was all about!

This photo was taken at the point where we started the adventure. Sorry about the quality, but it was taken by a weary canoeist who had just returned from his trip, so his thoughts were probably elsewhere!

Butterflies:  I forgot to mention the huge amount of very diversely coloured butterflies we saw every day along the trip. Other than mosquitoes, who were considered military/airforce, these butterflies were the most populous ‘bird’ we saw! 

Terrapins or Turtles:  This was our most friendly one, I even had him in my hand a while, but we saw a huge amount of them along the way too. Clearly unaware that humans could harm them! 

Solitude in the Wilderness:  End of day, view of the empty canoe looking from our campsite just after sunset on one of the good evenings, around 9pm.

Imi, ‘The Man’, focused on the steps ahead, complete with the big, heavy, ’green bag’, on an easy portage section, before he stepped off the cliff and injured his knee. (This was a rare case when the portage was relatively clear, with fairly uniform light for a photo.)

Huckleberry Finn / Robinson Crusoe day: This was the day Imi stepped, fully clothed, off the unexpected rock edge, into the water. I rigged up a washing line to help dry off all his ‘only dry’ gear. The scenery is typical of the many islands we camped on.

We had some truly special sunsets next to the lakes. No mosquitoes, no rain, warm and just the sound of loons around.

This was the morning (5am) of the longest day of the year. It was very impressive in its vivid colours.

Victorious Imi, outside Canadian Canoe Outfitters, after we had showered and dropped off all the gear!

Read Imi's wrap-up blog post - in which the professor speaks from the heart.
Read Howard's wrap-up - including the missing day of drama
 

Why we ought not to make a big deal of handicaps like mine.

Imi's final wrap-up...

I have Howard to thank for giving me this wonderful and memorable experience in Quetico Wilderness Area.   Given my severe visual impairment, all of Howard’s toughness and abilities had to be made use of to make this trip a success.  Now here is a question I wish to address: would it be right of me, and fair to Howard, if I were to declare to him that all my incapacities ought to be simply overlooked (despite the problems they present), and that in the end they just do not matter much at all?  Suppose if I were to tell him this: let us both regard my handicap no more than one other challenge, of the many that we (jointly) encountered in Quetico, and I neither have to feel too grateful for your extra efforts, nor be especially depressed about having it.  Would this be the right attitude?  It sounds rather callous, but I believe it is indeed the right attitude.  And Howard is in complete agreement with this; and it was precisely in this spirit that the trip was undertaken.

The danger of making too big a fuss about handicaps is, we tend to overlook the positive contributions persons with handicaps make.  First of all, I was not a passive passenger in this journey. I carried my stuff, I pitched my own tent, worked my way alone through the arduous and primitive portages, and washed the dishes whenever I could.  And I am a strong paddler, given my years of canoeing experience.  Secondly, handicaps are but mere externalities; what counts is who we are as persons. And I, like all persons, are an asset simply by showing good will, and being themselves.

 

While Howard put in far more into this trip than I did, I hope in my own way I was not a liability, a burden to be taken care of, but an asset. I am just too proud to be an object of charity. Only if I am convinced that, for all that Howard can give, I have something positive to give back, I would not undertake a trip as a net receiver. And Howard values his life and time too much, to do a trip that adds nothing of positive value, in terms of knowledge and new experiences. I declare outright, there is nothing of charity work, in Howard undertaking this adventure with me. We went as equal friends that have really bonded as a result of this trip.

I have come a long way, not only since I lost much of my sight some 5 years ago, but also since my last canoe trip with Howard to Yukon, exactly one year ago.  At the end of that trip, I had stated (see the blog “Yukon Blind Dreams”), that blindness is demoralizing and isolating. I regard this nonsense today, though blindness is certainly limiting, and not something to flaunt about.  But a human life that is affirmative will build upon anything that is thrown to it. Since I cannot see, well let me hear more closely.  Since I cannot relish the visual panorama, let me monitor my emotions, probe more deeply, and be more attuned with what is around me.  Building and growth is the essence of life that is affirmative --- and I am firmly committed to be affirmative.  And once one has built one’s life upon  and around our incapacities, these are no more handicaps. They are an essential part of our being, of who we are.  I am now in a position to tell anyone: if you find pleasure in my presence and company, then you have no justification to be really bothered by my visual impairment.  That is an integral part of me.

A couple of years ago I encounter a stranger some four miles south of River Falls, in one of my regular jaunts.  There was a brief deliberation on whether we take on an adventure together. On a hunch I decided to just go for it, and spend about three weeks canoeing several hundred miles down Yukon.  And Howard came all the way from South Africa for this venture.  The major challenge of the first trip was, first we were then almost complete strangers, who had no idea how things would work between us. And secondly, we were dealing with moving water and perhaps rapids. 

Because of the success of the first trip, I suggested to Howard that we undertake a second trip, with new challenges.  Canoeing through Quetico, especially in its deep interior, has the new challenge of primitive portages.  There will be thick bushes, knee deep muck, steep rock faces or even cliffs, vast moraine, and large pools of water, to trudge across.  Despite my blindness, I told him I absolutely insist, that should we undertake this trip, I do the portages all by myself.  I will just not let myself be led through these portages like a child.  With a paddle in my hand, and a pack on my back, I will somehow find my way through it all. Howard agreed to this, and came all the way from London for this. It is a testimony to his courage and generosity, to venture with a person with a handicap , considering not only the extra risks but even extra work and extra responsibilities.  It has been a real adventure. This trip has shown our friendship can endure trying moments.   Even when an unbelievably vast horde of mosquitoes were harassing us, and for all the frustration at the rain and muck and drudgery at the portages, we never had a single quarrel.  And we felt confident enough to expose to each other our vulnerabilities.  Yes, life is strange.  I say, just go along with life, and do not hold yourself back, when the time is ripe.

See some photographs from the trip. 

Read Howard's final wrap-up blog post. 

Read Imi's previous blog post.

Howard's wrap-up

Howard writes...

Firstly of this lastly: I want to take you back to probably our toughest day, and from what you read you maybe you wonder why it was the toughest…..? I’ll solve the mystery!

As we all know, often things happen for a reason, but this time it took me getting back to civilization to connect the reason! I sensed that there was something ’wrong’ with the ‘Big Day, Blog 7 posting you guys were reading: Dominique was alluding to a gap in my story, the missing seven huge portages, yet she had received Blog 7 and with the virtual communication/internet ‘blindness’ I had out there, and sat phone confirmation that the content had been sent, I couldn’t fathom things out. I need to point out that working with email and a sat phone require a level of patience that tests me to the limit almost more than each adventure! (A typical blog takes about 20 nail-biting minutes, to send via sat phone!) Anyway, a long story short, I realize now that half of Blog 7 was cut off in the sat phone transmission.

That was a big day’s story, and I felt Imi’s words on ‘Freedom’, were priceless in the context of his step off the cliff and our thoughts while immersed deep in a challenging canoeing/portage day. Fate has decided that the missing part of that Blog is best kept for the end, as almost a great summary of our adventure… They captured so well the essence of our adventure and who the conflict of the struggle and the wilderness solitude was internalized. So here is that missing piece from Blog 7:

“………Virtually as we left and started paddling , the rain started pelting down, and we were back in Mother Nature’s heaven for us today! We both agreed that even with the rain there was something very special about being out here remote, exposed, and yet alive. We both ‘ticked off’, without doubt, we wouldn't right now swap places with 'someone' in a cosy London, Sydney, big city, secure home, dwelling... In these seemingly atrocious conditions, were we lying to ourselves, we really didn't think so... In fact Imi, made the insightful comment: "When in the wilderness, naked in front of nature, you are never in a prison, you are freed by your self sufficiency, nakedness, and the sheer simplicity. This rang so true for me, as I thought back to my solo nakedness on the South Pole, sailing alone, cycling alone, and suddenly this freedom rush hit my system, as I thought about Siberia, alone, in a few weeks.

The portages were all challenging in their uniqueness, and I've covered this aspect in my previous blog, but today they felt real remote; I think we are in an area of the park where we were the first trail blazers for the season. For the first time I saw a lot of bear scat around, and in my one search for a portage route, I repeatedly shouted the precautionary "Hey bear" call to warn any unsuspecting bear of my approach. But no bears were seen... Maybe tomorrow... Please, Mother Nature?

We had two 'portages' where we got out the canoe and controlled its passage through a series of rapids walking alongside, sometimes waist deep, in the fast-flowing water. Imi did amazingly, especially considering his crooked knee, stumbling along the uneven, rocky river bed. We both agreed that it was better than lugging canoe and gear on a normal portage, though!

The end of the last portage, a long one, was this real, ocean-like, sand beach, with a wonderful 'holiday resort' type campsite setting. Any thought of 'booking in', was dashed by Mother Nature's biggest and most deadliest squadron of mosquitoes. We wasted no time in getting in the canoe and escaping their attack. It was relentless, and stopping a few hundred metres out in the lake, scratching every part of our ravaged bodies, we both agreed that that attack was the worst we had experienced to date. Another hard, but satisfying 6-hour day and we had reached our target overnight campsite, in now great, sunny weather. With the great weather I decided, swimming was more of a priority than tent building, but within 45 minutes I was almost regretting my prioritisation, as only with lightening fast tent building did I just manage to slip into my tent before the heaviest rainfall to date hit us. Gee, this is a wild weather place, and seemingly totally unpredictable. I'm now sitting outside with an ABSOLUTELY perfect sunset. Just the sound of loons, crickets, and the occasional, trademark, violent, beaver ‘tail smack’ on the water nearby.... Just bliss, but who knows what we will wake to....

That's it from me till two day's time...

H

Here is Imi's thought for the day, crooked knee and all!

REAL Freedom

Real Freedom does not consist merely of freedom of speech and expression. Real Freedom means you are free to live as you please, to build the community that furthers your peculiar value system/scheme. But if people lived as they pleased, that is tantamount to anarchy, hence that world is free where maximum disorder and anarchy can exist without jeopardizing human survival. That is only possible if a vast wilderness exists where people can build their own individual lives and communities, without hampering others.

So a pagan community that worships the moon, that has its own wild dances and rituals, that creates its own brutal, competitive game can go on the rampage without worrying about the world. That is true Freedom.

Our world is so consumed with servicing human needs, that it has to impose strict order and systems to be viable. In fact very soon, humans will have to manage the entire planet, because eco-systems and nature have to be disrupted in order to create affluence. New possibilities of living that go against the strict norms can just not be permitted.

This is a universal law: Servitude is the price of comfort and affluence,

Freedom is always only for those who fight and struggle for it.

Imi

With that mystery solved I’d just like to close my part of this fulfilling adventure, with the following:

Having been living closely with Imi in the past three weeks, when I read out his wrap up words, they almost brought tears to my eyes. Every day I could feel the struggle, his inspiration, his fight against servitude, yet his huge appreciation of my role, and his words capture this sometimes conflicting cauldron of emotions, but I know that we both have come out of this amazing human experience bigger people, both individually and as a team.

Early on in the last day of paddling we passed this island where a group of five ‘early fifties’ guys were sitting at the lake edge, enjoying their wilderness breakfast experience. After the one guy’s courteous “Hi”, coffee mug in hand, we pulled in to chat to them. They explored our seemingly strange, 13 day, endurance experience motive that clearly for them seemed to lack their obvious social and fishing element. In our exploring of their motives and experiences, they sheepishly looked at each other, admitted too few fish, and moments of boredom, moving them to evening drinking entertainment, with a few hints at stories shared, and then lots of loud laughter.

I couldn’t help think that their picture was a fairly clear stereotypical one: Five buddies managed to negotiate 5 days off from their wives and kids to have a good ‘boys talk’ fishing trip ‘escape’.

Imi and I were so obviously different! It was almost how I feel when I meet motorcyclists when I’m touring cycling, or motor boaters when I’m sailing… On paper being in the wilderness, and with canoes, we should share so much in common, but in reality as we shared our individual experiences, it became clear that we are quite different variants of the human species, with actually little soul overlap!

They were lovely, down-to-earth guys, we had a few laughs at their inter-friend banter, but as we paddled away, I knew that what I had experienced in the past 13 days was extremely valuable to me, and was not possible of being achieved in ‘a team’ of more than two, but also not one of less than two! In amongst the inevitable complex committee decisions, they would no doubt have had great boys’ jokes, shared their past and present fishing stories to the last passionate detail, one or two may have bravely explored solutions to their current work/relationship/or financial challenges. But I sense that largely the conversation would have stayed at the not-too-serious, holiday-escape, superficial fun level, stories being the basis for building their five-member team friendship… They would have probably concluded we were too serious and on an adventure where fun was a virtual impossibility. Gee, how different things can be seen by the beholders, hey…?

I may have got it all wrong, but I do know that often we feel that more is better, where more often than not for me, actually less provides more, and the focus and challenge of a well defined adventure can enable one to go way beyond the often-uninspiring superficiality of life. This Quetico trip had definitely done that for me!

On a lighter note, when we got back to Atikoken, the seriousness of the adverse weather we had been through became truly apparent, and some were even surprised we had managed to complete the route we had: We were told of record rainfalls, cyclone warnings in the park while we were there, huge unprecedented floods in the nearby city of Duluth that actually flooded out the zoo, allowing all the seals and the solitary Polar bear to escape. Nature fights back, rescuing it’s suffering prisoners!

And now FINALY, I just want to publicly acknowledge the amazing achievement of my sight-impaired, adventure buddy: “Imi, you were blood amazing, mate, a true inspiration for any time that I think I have things tough and can’t rise to the challenge! Thank you for giving me the wonderful human experience you did!” The team will no doubt be back next year, taking on some new challenge, still to be defined!

That’s all from ‘Vision Quest’ for this year, and thanks for your support in making this an even richer experience for both of US. We have thoroughly enjoyed having you along!

Howard

See some pictures from the trip.

Read Imi's wrap-up blog post.

Read Howard's previous blog post.

A couple of Words of Wisdom from this trip

Imi writes...

Much was invested in making this trip possible. I now realise investing in experiences is worth far more than investing in material goods. The core of human life is the underground journey. Human beings are a vast and intricate web of connections, ideas, of memories, of expectations, and so on... Rich experiences thicken and deepen this web of connections that constitute our psyche.

My first words of wisdom: Invest in experiences rather than in things.

Unless you expect the unexpected, nothing unexpected will happen. Seek and thou shalt find. Ask and thou shalt get. We went on a canoe expedition where mosquitoes, constant rain, trudging in knee high mud marsh and other challenges were a constant occurrence, but we expected that somehow we would be inspired and it turned out to be a glorious trip.

Second words of wisdom: Expect the unexpected and don’t close off your horizons.
 
Imi

Read Howard's blog post for this day. 
Read Imi's previous blog post.  

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.