Perhaps moved by stories of my grandpa and of the thought of brave men entering war, the fear holding back seemed petty. I wasn't traversing battlefields risking death. I was carrying a stupid canoe across some wet ground, no one's giving me a medal. It was the best I could do at the moment. It seems simple and easy to dismiss as a silly girl inflating her problems, and that's probably true. It was the bravest thing I had done to that point from my point of view. I had tried it days prior, and knew it wasn't easy or simple. For fifteen years I had been ruled by my fears more than I ruled them. I was going to pick this canoe up and get to that other side in spite of that fear. I feared the failure, the physical pain, and that deep down inside I was just a coward to my core.
The jokes and anger are just tools of deflection. The worst thing for us is for others to discover our deepest flaws. We have a narrative of who we are to others. Some embrace that they are worthless because they spiraled into depression, and some it is of supreme confidence. We are not superman, we must all know our kryptonite. Instead of waiting for our enemies to expose it, we need to embrace it and own it. It defuses the bomb. I was owning my cowardice at the moment. It wasn't for all time, but as long as I could find the strength. Even the people we hold as heroes aren't brave all the time. Sometimes it's a moment of righteous madness that fills us with courage. It may be as a soldier or as small as someone asking for a date. For me the first step was a canoe.
"Grandpa, I'll take the canoe this time."
He was about to pick it up, but turned his head in surprise, and then acceptance. "It's all yours." He lifted the back end so I could get under it.
"That's Ok Grandpa, I want to try and do it all by myself, not even help from the start."
He put it back down. "Well, I'll take the help loading the backpacks."
It was still just lightly raining and you could hear every little ping of the raindrops as it hit the plastic material we were now wearing. The ground was getting slicker by the second. I helped get the backpack straps over his shoulders and made sure everything was protected from the rain.
I went to the back of the flipped-over canoe and balanced the front tip against the ground. I lifted the back above my head and slid to the middle. I could already feel the weight testing my arms. I reached the middle to where the portage yoke was and lowered it slowly to rest the yoke padding on my shoulders and neck. The front of the canoe was still balanced on the ground and the back was high in the air.
I raised the front slowly, which dropped the back in an attempt to balance the weight. I spread my legs to keep my center of gravity as the canoe was trying to rock back and forth. The full weight was pressing down and I could feel it impact all over my body. My arms were like L's as my elbows were bent and almost as high as my chin. My hands were locked in a grip holding the sides of the canoe. The paddles and fishing gear were tied inside the bow. They were dangling down a little but not covering my view. I tilted the front bow slightly to see the path and took a slow step forward. Grandpa was still there observing.
The trail started with an incline, and so I had to keep the canoe at an angle so it didn't hit against the hill. The hill was rocky from years of water erosion. Every step I took had to be carefully planned as one misstep could send me falling backward with a canoe landing on me.
The pressure on my knees as I moved slowly up the incline had me grimacing but I couldn't focus on that. I remembered all of the subtleties of pain from my failed first attempt. So I knew this was just the beginning. Roots and rock were enough to avoid, but undergrowth of long grass and shrubs made it so the trail was narrow. Tree branches hung over the trail with dense foliage grabbing at the bottom of the canoe. The flipped-over canoe above my head was my shield against all manor of menace. Even though the foliage was tugging at the hull it was better than tugging at thick forest provided cover from the rain but the water still made its way to the ground making it slick and muddy. Grandpa was still silently walking behind me in case I needed help or decided to give up once more. I could hear him but it was very difficult to see anything behind me. My first attempt I was defeated before I even tried to pick up the canoe. I wasn't in a good mood and I had no belief that I could or even wanted to be successful. The difference a couple of days can make and a new perspective. I wasn't feeling sorry for myself today, not even at how the weather was beginning to worsen. The rain was picking up from a light gentle rain into a full summer shower. We were spared from the full force of the downpour in the woods but we had to get back into the water at some point.
When you walk up a hill it becomes progressively more difficult as the angle of the incline becomes even more steep. So each step was in many ways worse than the last. There was hope as I tilted the bow to see the top.
The trail leveled off and it was still difficult but the beginning was by far the worst part on my legs. The next challenge was for my arms.
The bulk of the problem was I had to keep my arms in such a fixed position. It was like holding a ten year-old above your head while walking a third of a mile. Except the ten year-old would also have to be sixteen feet long.
The first stretch of the path had been steep, but the next was relatively flat. We were going through a valley of sorts and I was able to find a rhythm. It wasn't that the pain was going away in my arms and shoulders, If anything it was getting worse. It was that I found a place in my mind to take refuge from it. I was focused on taking deliberate breaths and steps. Thinking of anything but the pain became my mantra. I had to lift the canoe in a way that took it off my shoulders to relieve the pain, even for a second. I could keep the canoe balanced with one hand temporarily as I shook the other to provide a moment's comfort. I'd switch which arm I'd relieve every once in a while, then back to two hands. Anything to keep moving.
I don't know at which point I had gone further than I did in my first try but I was feeling confident I had. I wanted to quit more than a couple of times but I pushed myself through it. I thought, we have to head back down at some point. Just get there Jordi then you can quit. I had no intention to quit but it gave me goals to achieve along the way.
We reached the last leg in the portage and began the downward slope to the lake. You're almost there, you can make it to the lake, I told myself. Going down hill is easier than uphill obviously, but that doesn't make it easy. You have to brace each step so you don't slide or slip. I try to turn my foot, so each step is staggered. It helps with taking the pressure off my knees and as well as the footing.
The rain beating down on the canopy was loud and Made it difficult to hear anything. It wasn't as if there was much to listen to as the animals seemed to be indisposed and Grandpa hadn't said anything. I think he knew enough to let me work through this challenge on my own. To try and talk would only be distracting for me, probably didn't want to be the reason I failed.
I could see blue through a clearing of trees and I knew that I was going to do it. Keep your feet moving Jordi, don't stop now. I was committed to go the whole distance. I saw the edge of the water and I wanted to run but was afraid I'd trip and ruin the moment. I carefully stepped around mud and rock that guarded the landing. I walked straight into the water and tilted the canoe to the side. With tremendous care and effort I lowered into the water. I released my hands and looked at it as it floated in the water freely. I did it.
It was still raining heavily but I didn't care. I wanted to tell nature that it lost today. You tried to get to me with rain and mud, but I overcame it. If I remember one thing from the trip, it was going to be this. It was one of the greatest moments in my life. I wanted to yell victory at the top of my lungs. I wanted to throw rocks in triumph into the water but my arms and shoulders burned, and I could barely stand. I was exhausted. It took everything I had to do. Even though it may seem trivial to some, when you put every fiber of your being to accomplish something, it's worth celebrating.
Grandpa was coming down the hill and I threw my arms straight up into the air, "I did it." I splashed water in elation.
"Of course you did, I never had a doubt." He took off the backpacks and put them in a place somewhat protected from the rain. He came straight to me with his arms raised suggesting a hug, and we embraced standing in the water letting the rain hit us.
He tied off the canoe and both took cover under. I found a place to lie on the ground otherwise I might collapse. He sat on a rock just staring at me with a big grin.
"I'm really proud of you Jordi." He praised me. "Feels pretty good doesn't it?"
Laying on my back I just turned my head and, "yeah." Was all I could gather.
"You had it lucky." Grandpa put it out there.
"What do you mean?"
"It wasn't that long ago when light Kevlar canoes didn't exist. The common ones were aluminum and fiberglass. The kevlar ones are forty to fifty pounds plus some extra gear. We used both aluminum and fiberglass canoes over the years, and they weigh sixty to seventy pounds. Grandpa had a camouflaged fiberglass canoe that he preferred. I think it weighed seventy-seven pounds without anything else. I had to carry that more than a couple of times over long portages."
"Seventy-seven pounds? There's no way. I barely could do this one and you said it's like half the weight." I was thinking don't steal my thunder here. I was just feeling great.
"It doesn't matter the amount of weight. The key is you didn't give up. What you did was more than difficult enough. "
"My body would agree with you. That zapped the energy out of me."
We were so busy talking that we hadn't noticed the rain was slowing down. We were looking onto Gun Lake, which I thought looked kind of like a sea-horse.
"Well being as you're just resting down there, do you remember how to get to the next portage?"
I had to switch my train of thought and catch my breath. It's a good thing he asked because I was probably about to take a nap if I lied here longer. I sat up. "The rain is stopping." He turned to look, "Hmm, looks like the sun might even come out."
I came back to his earlier question, "To get to the next portage, we make an S." I remembered I still had another challenge to couple for the day. I still had to navigate us to our campsite without the map. I wanted to sit around and celebrate but I knew I didn't have the time to. I knew that I wouldn't get the break for my body until we got to the camp. So I dug deep for some energy, and stood up."Well why are you just sitting there resting Grandpa?" I teased.
We loaded up the canoe and pushed off into the freshly replenished lake. Immediately as we got in the water was a massive hill at the end of a peninsula. It looked like a green pyramid. The rain had fully stopped and the sun was brightly shining luminously on the water. The lake was a mix of cliffs and ridges. It was like a dessert after a satisfying meal. After testing us, mother nature lent this beauty to us in amends. We paddled slowly around the majestic mound into a narrow pass. We were journeying in at the bottom of an S-pattern, and this was the first bend round.
Across from the mound was a campsite. It looked occupied but whoever was there must have been gone for the day. It's probably a good thing that it was taken because it looked to be such a nice site we would have cut our journey short for the day to take it.
I just had a permanent grin on my face as we paddled. We were in the straight away, paddling in the middle of the lake heading north. My body was tired but my mind was alive with wonder. I soaked in the smells of evergreens and the radiant sunbeams of warmth. The northern end of the lake was end to end ridges and lobes. I almost forgot to paddle as I was lost to its splendor. Like all good things they come to an end, as we reach the next portage.
As we pulled the canoe up out of the water on the landing we looked up to the cliffs running the entire Northern edge above us. They form a rocky rampart all the way to Tesaker Lake. Navigating the trail in my mind I knew this was another long portage, but I also knew the next lake was small. So we were not far from our destination.
"Grandpa, I will take the canoe again, if you don't mind." I was tired, but I was also determined. I wanted to see how far I could go before I had to surrender.
"Ok, if you really want to. Don't feel you have to go all the way this time."
"We'll see how far I get."
He was ready to go, and I was getting back into position under the canoe. I had a sense of the balance now. It was far easier getting started this time. The trail was muddy from the earlier rains but it was relatively flat. It was only slightly shorter than the one I just completed at 86-rods.
The sting on my shoulders and arms were old friends now and I was trying to get into my rhythm. I started with focused breathing and blocking out things in my mind. I was thinking of songs to hum to myself to keep distracted. Even though the terrain was flatter and easier it was still enough to be uncomfortable. I stepped over rock and roots reminding myself I could still trip and to be mindful. I kept thinking that I could see the end of the trail only to be wrong. I was on the edge of quitting time and again but managed to push through.
I had almost given up on the thought this trail would end, when without warning we reached the other side. I put the canoe on the ground this time and dropped it to sit on a rock. Grandpa set his gear down and joined me. I didn't have the energy to celebrate my accomplishment this time. We kept our break short knowing we were close to our destination. Tesaker Lake looked like an interesting lake to come back to sometime but we were only passing through. We followed the northern ridge on the lake and as this was a small lake we were across.
A short 31-rod portage stood between us and the lake we were going to camp on, and we wasted no time on the portage. Grandpa took the canoe this time, as I thought I proved enough today.
We were on the water and looking for a campsite. Takucmich Lake was shaped like a T and all the campsites were along the northern shores. We hugged the north shoreline to eastern side of the lake in a narrow bay. At the back of the bay was a campsite on an island and the destination I was tasked to navigate us to by Grandpa. I had accomplished all my goals for the day. We pulled up to the landing and I slowly got out. In fact I did everything slowly. "We made it, you navigated us all the way here without a map. What do you want as a prize?" Grandpa enthusiastically asked.
"I'll settle for you making dinner and washing the dishes. I'll take victory lap in my sleeping bag just as soon as we get the tent up." I wasn't joking. As soon as we did some basic setup for the evening, I headed for the tent. "I couldn't be prouder of you today Jordi." He shouted as I unzipped the tent.
I gave him a thumbs up, "Good to know."
