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High Temp.
5 F
Low Temp.
-13 F
Wind
NW 10-20 MPH
Miles Traveled
14
Hours Traveling
7
New Snow 0
Inch
(since last update)
People
Seen 1
(since last update)
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Posted: Sunday, 2/9/03 10 PM 15 miles east of the Saskatchewan
/Manitoba border
The first week on the trail has flown by. Sometimes I feel like we never
even left the trail at all.
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The last few days on the trail have been quite adventurous. We
woke up Friday morning, and just as the last strap of the toboggans
was tightened, we heard the faint drone of a snowmobile. It was
our friend, Clifford, from Cumberland House, coming to check up
on us and help to clear the trail. We stopped and
visited with Clifford for a long time. He told us how his village
had the tradition
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of communally sharing moose
meat from a hunt. When someone comes back from a successful moose
hunt, the meat is divided between several families. And then Clifford told
us, "Of course, then your friends always drop by. This is the way it
is and always has been. And when your friends shoot a moose,
you stop by for a meal too. It all works out."
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We bid our farewells and we followed in
Clifford's freshly packed trail. Skiing was much easier than the day
before, and the miles flew by as we were swallowed by a cavern of
short, bushy willows and endless black
spruce bogs. Swampy bogs, wetlands, and marshes are easily navigated
during the winter.
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Yet by midday on Saturday, the boggy creek we had been traveling on emptied
into Birch Lake. It was our first glimpse at the windswept landscape we
will surely be accustomed to by the the end of the Bimaadagaako Adventure.
The hard-packed snow created an unearthly terrain, layered and pockmarked
by endless torrents of fiercely cold gusts of wind. We tightened our hoods
and set off across the lake
To Saylix
and Lichen,
the wind was hardly noticeable. Their thick fur coats kept them warm
the whole time. Dave and I fought hard to keep any skin from being
exposed. It's amazing how the chilly wind finds even the smallest
of openings between your gloves, up your coat, and through your hat.
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As we skied to the eastern shore of
Birch Lake we knew we would have to find a small creek that would
lead us to the trail. When we got to the shore, however, all we could
see was an endless abyss of reeds and cattails. If there was a trail
here, it would surely take some investigation to find it. We spent
a few moments scratching our heads and triple-checking the map. "It's
got to be
here. Here's where we are on the map, here's where the trail should
be, but I don't see it." We climbed a small |
snow drift to gain a higher vantage point. Again, nothing but endless reeds
and cattails. Being temporarily lost is nothing new to these learning adventure
guides. It actually happens on a very regular basis.
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We decided to split up, and eventually found the trail. By then,
though, evening was rapidly approaching. We knew we would have to
find a sheltered spot to camp soon, or risk being out in the cold
without fire wood. We remembered that Clifford had told us about
a trapper cabin his uncle used to stay at which was about four miles
away. Sure enough, a few hours we were at the cabin, which was right
where Clifford had told us it would be. Timidly, we knocked
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at the door. It looked like no one was home, and it certainly looked
like no one was going to mind if we spend the night. Soon enough a fire
was built, and we were having dinner, fondly reflecting on the day's events.
The adventures and crazy places Dave and I get ourselves into never cease
to amaze me.
The Wilderness Classroom Organization
4605 Grand Ave.
Western Springs, IL 60558
(630) 204-0420
info@wildernessclassroom.com
All content copyright (c) The Wilderness Classroom, 2002. All
rights reserved.
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