Canoeing

“At the put-in, my fantasies were assaulted by a cloud of blackflies. The bugs made the first portage part backwoods blood donor clinic, part primal therapy. Going solo means there’s nobody to share the pain. [...] The wilderness was like a church all right. EXACTLY like a church, like a huge creepy vastness haunted by an otherworldly stillness. I might as well have locked myself up in an empty Notre Dame Cathedral with a “do not disturb” sign on the door. The thought of five more hours of ear-ringing nothingness, to be followed by more of the same in total darkness, felt to me like being slowly asphyxiated by silence.”

“The solution that was decided upon was that all four of us would paddle in one canoe, thus allowing my dad and uncle to safely guide us across the lake while we towed the second canoe behind us with the gear. This plan worked relatively well. The wind and waves made the traveling tough and slow though. At one point we stopped close to shore to take a break. I was curious to see the second canoe behind us and leaned a little too far over the edge of the canoe and with all of the weight in the canoe already it didn’t take much before water was pouring in over the side. Everyone got more wet than they would have liked and we decided it was worth it to stop for a while and dry off a bit and eat some lunch before finishing our trip.”