Reminiscing

It has been a crazy month in the world. The G8 met to discuss saving the world’s environment and saving Africa (with little on the agenda about the war on terrorism, much to George W’s dismay) and then London, and later Egypt, were bombed and terrorism once again came to the forefront of the political agenda. I listen to the news a lot these days, it keeps me sane as I work in the lab, but still it amazes me that terrorism has been in the forefront for years now. When I heard of the London bombings (which of course got more coverage than those in Eygpt) I thought about the political implications, namely how the environment and Africa would now be over shadowed at the G8 summit. It was much like my initial reaction to September 11th when my first thought was how this was an incredibly symbolic gesture - hitting the World Trade Center - a symbol against globalization and the Americanization of all other countries and cultures. I thought about how whoever did this surely made an impact and I thought about how George W. was lucky because now he could play the hero. I did not think about the tragedy of it all until I heard the TV announcer speaking to the people inside the buildings. She said “To those of you inside the trade towers, stay calm, feel your door before leaving your office. If it is hot do not leave. Stay close to the ground as smoke rises. To the people of New York City, please turn off your water as the firefighters will need it to fight the blaze.” After hearing that it dawned on me that there were people in those buildings - thousands of them. After September 11th I wore black and I mourned the strangers who died. Now nearly 4 years later, when I hear about more and more bombings, more and more security and more and more freedom lost I am just disgusted. The London Underground was bombed and now people in New York City are being searched as they enter the subway. That’s globalization for you, we are all in this together … The question is what on earth are we doing?! I have no answers for this, but the whole topic has made me reminiscent of the simpler things in life.
Yesterday I friend emailed me and we caught up on the happenings in our lives. She told me that in a week she and others would be going on their annual canoe trip. I used to attend those trips and I miss them sorely now that I am living far away. Her email made me look into my “musing archives” and my description of our first trip, and I have included those musings below. For me at least it’s time to return to simpler things, to look at the beauty in the world, and to remember that whilst we are fighting the “war on terror” we should not forget to protect our environment or our freedom.

26 June 2001 – Canoeing Algonquin

We woke up at 6 AM this morning to get on the road early for the four hour drive to the Park. Not surprisingly, the first hour and a half were spent in the living room where we made a valiant attempt to fit all of our food, gear and clothing in to two back packs. It was futile, and in the end we took three bags. Still, we made it out of the house by 7:30 and we were on our way to the great Canadian North (or at least north of Toronto).
We covered an amazing amount of ground that first day and ended up paddling way past where we had planned to stay. The further from civilization we paddled the more relaxed we all became. It was almost as if tension was released with every paddle stroke away from the cars, the motor boats and the cottages. By the time we docked at our campsite there were no signs of civilization. We were surrounded by trees, birds and the clear blue waters of a granite lake, completely placid in the evening air.
That night for dinner we built a fire and roasted wieners over the embers. The other girls turned in early but I stayed up to watch the sun set and to see the stars appear as the last light faded from the western sky. It was the day after the summer solstice and the last light did not fade until 11 pm. All around me I heard the sounds of the northern night. Frogs chirped and gurgled, and in the trees I could here the sporadic call of a barred owl. From the surrounding lakes loons called, their cries echoing eerily off of the water and sending chills down my spine. It was wonderful to be back in the interior of Algonquin Park.
Our second day was a physically challenging with almost 4 km of portages. We slept in until 9 am and feasted on a breakfast of French toast before beginning the grueling trek. After a feast of French toast before beginning the grueling trek, we paddled towards the untouched waters of the lakes further south. There were six portages in all and each time two people would carry the 70 pound aluminum canoes while the other two acted as spotters. Some of the portages were short and flat while others (the longest being 1.25 km) were longs hikes through the hills and valleys of the forest. For the spotters the cathedral like forests with towering maples and dense stands of hemlock were quite beautiful…but at least for me when I was carrying the canoe, I just wanted the portage to be over (I know…wimp). In total that day I carried the canoe 2.13 km and although it hurt I was happy to have done it. Perhaps it was the endorphin high or maybe just the sense of satisfaction in knowing that I could do something rugged in the great outdoors. In the end the portages were well worth it as they took us to a lake that was completely devoid of humans. I would imagine that people rarely volunteer to do such long portages and thus many don’t make it to that tiny jewel of a lake. The water was so still and quite that the calls of red eyed vireos, black throated green warblers, wood thrushes and ovenbirds could be heard clearly from the canoe in the middle of the lake. In the sky above us herring gulls drifted on thermals and a broad wing hawk hunted for prey.
The third day we began to head north again. It was a slow and short paddle and I had lots of time to practice steering the canoe from the stern of the boat. There was only one portage, a scant 590m which we handled barely breaking a sweat. We set up camp early and had time for a leisurely paddle around the lake and a cool swim. That night I escaped cooking to wander in the woods behind the campsite. Way off the beaten track, and surrounded by bird calls, I was able to absorb the beauty of the temperate forest - a world alive with life just like the tropical forest, but a more frantic life because here the growing and breeding season is a scant two to three months long. Surrounded by the sites and sounds of a forest teeming with life and animals charged with hormones and busy breeding, it was hard to believe that six months of the year the trees are bare and everything is covered in a blanket of snow. The experience was well worth the many many mosquito bites that I acquired.
After dinner I headed out onto the lake for an evening paddle. It was my first time out on the water at that time of night and it was beautiful. The water looked like glass, as if I could step out of the boat and walk over the smooth surface. In the sky the setting sun painted the clouds into pink and purple ribbons. That night we stayed up later than normal discussing life and love etc. We marveled at how we have known each other for 10 years now and at how much our lives have changed. Back in high school we all had the same problems. We all stressed about school tests and swim meets and looking fat in our bathing suits. Now our lives are so different; a crazy mix of jobs, car payments, mortgages, wedding planning and in my case immigration battles and moving to a different country. It is amazing how things change, but how in the still air of Algonquin Park, we four women sitting around that fire were still the same girls at heart.
That night I stayed up alone well into the night. It was my last night in the Park and I was determined not to miss a thing. I fed the fire which crackled and popped, giving off huge amounts of heat which I actually needed. The temperature dipped down close to zero and my breath puffed from my mouth as if it were winter. Above me in the darkening sky the stars put on a show. After I had doused the fire I could see millions of stars. So many that they looked like a carpet and I had a hard time seeing the constellations amid other tiny stars which I rarely get the opportunity to see. Up there I could see satellites in their lazy orbits around the earth and planes blending almost perfectly with the stars. In the eastern horizon Mars shone like a beacon and every once in a while a shooting star streaked across the sky, short-lived and dazzling.
Our last day in the Park started early and we quickly packed and headed north. It was hot, sunny and windless which made for wonderful paddling. We made excellent time and did the paddle and the two portages in less than 3 hours. At the Park office we turned in our canoes and gear and once again piled into the car back to civilization. During the drive we did not talk much. I suppose we were all lost in thought. I was completely satisfied and very happy that I had done this rugged yet relaxing trip into the “wilderness”, a trip that surrounded me in the words and feelings associated with sharing such an experience with three other girly women whom I have known for a long time.