BUTT END


Life in plastic. It’s fantastic. PHOTO: DAVID LEE


One Lifesaver at a Time I


t seemed a moot point to the accused. I take the act of stealing red Lifesavers out


of my candy stash very seriously. I toss these sugary rings in my mouth at every 1,000-me- tre mark along a portage—a personal act of rich reward and the only thing that seemed to get me to the other side of the particularly grueling, blackfly-infested trails we trudged along on that trip. He claimed I was being overly dramatic when I threatened to never travel with him again. He gave me an evil smirk and took my last one. I haven’t tripped with him since. What gets each canoeist to the other side


of a portage varies. Some, like me, treat them- selves to high-grading their candy bags. Oth- ers go into a dreamscape of good first dates, movies worth seeing a second time and dirty tricks to play on their bosses. Some paddlers simply think of things happening back at home—like traffic jams and the Greek eco- nomic crisis—to give them reasons why the pain of the portage isn’t so bad. Many of us hum or, if we know the words,


sing monotonous show tunes or the last song we heard on the radio driving to the


46 SUMMER/FALL 2010


put-in. The Proclaimers’ I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) is a favourite. So are Dancing Queen by ABBA, Cat Stevens’, Cat’s in the Cradle and John Denver’s Poems, Prayers and Promises. I remember a 27-day solo trip when I


couldn’t get Aqua’s Barbie Girl out of my head. Imagine I’m a Barbie girl in a Barbie world / Life in plastic, it’s fantastic / You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere / Imag- ination, life is your creation every step of ev- ery portage. It was a long month.


SELF-MOTIVATION IS THE KEY TO SURVIVING THE TOUGHEST PORTAGES BY KEVIN CALLAN


waltz) my 60-pound canoe barrel across to the other side. Ultimately, what gets most of us to the


other side—no matter when and where—is the fact that the portage, nasty or not, is the only thing that protects the places we’re por- taging to. I almost guarantee that he or she who suf-


fers the most, will be rewarded the most. A two-Lifesaver portage with steep inclines and a squishy spruce bog will give you complete


it’s the thought of a cold beer and roadside junk food that makes me dance my 60-pound canoe barrel across to the other side.


Where the portage is located on the trip changes the carrot I dangle from my deck plate. In the beginning, I daydream of monster


walleye, picturesque campsites and the peaceful solitude I know I’ll find deeper into the interior. Near the end of the trip, it’s the thought of a cold beer and roadside junk food that makes me dance (albeit a slow


solace. There will be no crowds at the end. If you do stumble across another canoe-


ist—ideally not as you are belting out Come on, Barbie, let’s go party, ah ah ah, yeah from beneath your Rob Roy—be assured she’ll be just as in love with the pain and pleasure of portaging as you are. KEVIN CALLAN eats the red Lifesavers last.


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