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| Emily Turner, age 15, member of 2002 and
2003 Canadian expedition and a Vermont Semester student.
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| The gates to Portneuf. |
Axes, feet, and paddles whirl through the air before connecting
with the thick Canadian bush. A haphazard trail reminiscent
of a tornado’s path slowly emerges, following the violent activity.
I observe from under the shadow of a canoe, flipped onto my
head for the ensuing "portage." East of us, a kilometer-long
waterfall obstructs the river. Hundreds of kilometers of impenetrable
wilderness stretch to the west, a barrier of dense jack pine,
black spruce, and water. Our destination lies 200 kilometers
south, where the Portneuf River enters the Saint Lawrence.
After half a day of hauling the canoes and gear, our
portage was complete.We soaked our sweaty bodies in the
cold Canadian water, loaded our four boats with hundreds of
pounds of equipment and food, and paddled off into the next
set of rapids.
The Portneuf River flows through eastern Quebec, a
rugged country of rushing water, stunted trees, and few
human inhabitants. Chris, Livi, Misha, Lauren, Tim, Miron,
and myself were but momentary visitors, absorbing this wild
beauty as our canoes rode the swiftly flowing water to the
Saint Lawrence. Our wild companions included caribou,
blackflies, bears, many great blue herons, and one magnifi-
cent golden eagle. Each day was only another reminder that
humans are fragile life, a nominal force compared to wind,
water, and the animal community.We began to understand
our total interdependence, simple survival reliant on everyday
choices.
For two weeks, this was our life. Our group of seven
worked as an efficient team; rising early to make breakfast
and greet the sun, paddling until mid afternoon, stopping to
set up camp and make dinner, then singing, playing music,
and reading around the fire. At dark, as we sank thankfully
into warm and welcoming sleeping bags, the northern lights
played a star-studded lullaby across the sky. The rhythm of
our expedition was shaped by rapids and the repeated tasks
of scouting, river running (accompanied by the occasional
swim), portaging, and lining.
Stopping at a riverside cliff for lunch and a swim provided
a time to reflect and a moment of peace. Blueberries were
found and eaten in unlimited quantities, accompanied by a
feeling of pure bliss; it was a simple matter to bend down
and swipe through the bushes, harvesting a handful. Caught
up in the moment, we learned to appreciate the joys of simple
living. The reflection we experienced is also an essential
part of living, allowing us to learn from the past and prepare
for the future. The balance we developed we carry through
our normal lives, another memory among many.
By Emily Turner
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