BUTT END
HERE TODAY.
GONE TOMORROW. PHOTO: PAUL VILLECOURT
Ready, Set, Trip!
IN OUR RUSH TO GET OUT AND BACK, WE ARE MISSING THE POINT BY KEVIN CALLAN
ANY TRIPPING PARTNER OF MINE has to un- derstand that, no matter what schedule we are on, sometimes I like to take the time to have a quiet morning paddle before breaking camp. It was on one of these paddles one morn-
ing that my deep breathing was interrupted by the sound of a studio-recorded wilderness soundtrack. I rounded a point and saw the source, a middle-aged couple sitting on fold- ing lawn chairs and listening to a cacophony of loon calls and orchestral melodies bellowing out of a waterproof boom box. My curiosity got the better of me. Rather than
pass their camp as quickly as possible, I paddled toward shore and called out the standard open- er: “How long ya out for?” “Seven hours, maybe eight if we’re lucky,” was
the response. Apparently it was a weekend outing. They had fled the city Saturday morning, got caught
50 n C ANOE ROOT S early summer 2007
up in traffic and arrived at the launch just before dusk. They made camp at the first available site and had gotten up early, planning to get back on the highway before the traffic got bad. I guess the boom box was just some insur-
ance, in case they didn’t have time to hear a full complement of loons, wolves and white-throat- ed sparrows during such a short trip. I paddled away knowing canoe tripping had
entered a new era. In North America, we work too hard and
too long, and it’s at the expense of time spent paddling. For proof, look at the history of pad- dling guidebooks. Editions in my collection from the 1930s have routes that averaged a month in length. In the 1970s they featured seven- to 10-day trips. In the 1980s they were reduced to five. Now, the average trip promot- ed is two to three days. The problem, as any tripper knows, is that
you’re not even into a good rhythm until the fourth day. Your urges for television and fast food fixes don’t begin to dissipate until day five. It’s not until the ninth day you’re actually at ease with your surroundings. I say, cases of constipation aside, if the trip
isn’t long enough to require the use of a toilet trowel, it’s not a real trip. Later that afternoon I heard flute-like wail-
ings coming from down the lake. I couldn’t tell if it was a wood thrush, or the latest release in the Sounds of Nature oeuvre. I like to think it was the latter and that the couple had decided to wait until after the late-afternoon rush to get back to the city.
Kevin Callan hopes that his A Paddler’s
Guide to Weekend Wilderness Adventures isn’t the only guidebook you own.
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64 |
Page 65 |
Page 66 |
Page 67 |
Page 68