From Wikipedia: Portage:
Portage or portaging refers to the practice of carrying watercraft or cargo over land to avoid river obstacles, or between two bodies of water. A place where this carrying occurs is also called a portage.
It’s the portage that makes travelling by canoe unique. – Bill Mason
….portaging is like hitting yourself on the head with a hammer: it feels so good when you stop. – Bill Mason
Anyone who says they like portaging is either a liar or crazy. – Bill Mason
On the portages the leaves hang limp and listless, and the still air is acrid with the resinous odour of boiling spruce gum. Here men sweat under enormous burdens: earlier in the summer, clouds of mosquitoes and black-flies would envelope them in biting swarms. But it is August, and the fly season is over, and those that are left are too weak to do any damage, and sit balefully regarding us from nearby limbs of trees. Pattering of moccasined feet on the narrow trail, as men trot with the canoes, one to a man, or step easily along and under their loads; and in a miraculously short space of time everything is over to the far side. –Grey Owl, “The Lost Brigade”
I have no desire for long portages. That’s like saying I desire traffic jams on the 401 when really all I really desire is to get home.
I have a desire for seclusion, for remoteness, stillness and silence, for portability, speed (when …it’s needed), and lightness. The mantra is “Go quietly, Carry little.” As you know, between Wellesley and Sudbury, often it is the long portages that take you to those places. I can go to Algonquin during peak season and not see another human for days, and I can do this simply by using portages that discourage most–and this is right off of Hwy 60.
And, although portages can be analogous to root-canal, they somehow bring depth and character to the trip, while you’re there, but also in memory. Like a pilgrimage, the physical strain wears down the body and opens it up to and is receptive to the solitude and even transcendence that the portage has brought you to.
Portages also represent something that runs counter to our culture of drive-thru convenience and auto-gratification. There is reward thinking about and completing a portage. At the end of the portage I gulp down the water and it may occur to me that I did not click a button to get this far. My body is almost broken, but the air is sweet. Even outside of the canoe world, there is a link between physical work and gratification and contentment. The link, however, is laid bare on some canoe trips.
In one of Olson’s books, he describes his favourite lake, the perfect lake in his mind, a lake that in the past he had spent days portaging and paddling to get to. One summer he decides to fly in, but quickly concludes that his experience of the lake and the area is not the same, is not as deep and meaningful. He is disconnected. To experience or to feel connected to his surroundings, he felt he needed the portages, the travel, the miles of paddling. The meaning of the place is not merely in the physical location, but in the journey.
Olson reminiscences fondly for both lakes and portages:
“I can still see so many of the lakes (whose shores and hills are forever changed after the storm): Saganaga, Red Rock, Alpine, Knife, Kekekabic, Eddy, Ogishkemunicie, Agamok, Gabimichigami, Sea Gull. It seems like yesterday… the early-morning bear on Brant Lake, that long portage from Hanson Lake to the South Arm of the Knife, that perfect campsite onJasper Lake…”
I don’t like portages, but they get me to where I want to go. And out there, it seems that while I don’t like them, they are the tough-lovers of canoe trip: they know better than me in preparing me for the place I am trying to get to both physically and emotionally. – Paul Hoy
The thought of having to carry all your worldly possessions on your back has been cause to modify the quintessential Canadian adventure canoe trip in terms of how many portages will be encountered. Paddlers now have mutated their own aspirations of adventure by eliminating the “carry”-the fundamental and historical pith of the journey, and choose a route with the least amount of work involved. – from Grey Owl & Me by Hap Wilson
After the previous blog entry on pack baskets, and doing some research, I found myself thinking of portages. Of the art of portaging. This is just a quick post….revisiting some thoughts on portaging….especially the art of the portage….sharing some quotes….and a few sketches pertaining to portaging….including a few that show alternatives to carrying the canoe over a portage….like lining. I’ve shared all or most of these before, but I thought I’d revisit….like one does a favourite canoe trip route.
From Scouter Network: Clip-Art (Image #20545):
Portage
From Scouter Network: Clip-Art (Image #20569):
Wading (definitely an alternative to portaging or lining)
Portage and Wading are two sketches by Hap Wilson (also found in his book, Temagami Canoe Routes).
From Jerry Stelmok: Artwork:
Begin The Carry (it usually feels like you have wings on at the beginning….)
A Bear Of A Carry (….but after a while it feels like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders)
Lining (if you don’t want to run….and don’t want to portage or wade….then line)
Reflections (you reflect sometimes on whether you should paddle or portage)
Now I have commented on portaging in previous posts here, such as:
Not exactly your regular portage but Hap Wilson tells a story of a guy portaging a canoe part way up Maple Mountain….until he found out it had already been done by a staff member from an area camp….never took a canoe up Maple Mountain (I’m not totally crazy) but I was with a group from Kandalore on a trip back in the 70s and we took a wanigan up to the top (but not up the tower at least LOL LOL….and just taking the wanigan up was crazy enough LOL LOL)….
I also wrote:
The truth is that knowing how to portage a canoe is a great skill to have….especially if you want to get away from the maddening crowds that can be found on some of the better known (and easier) tripping routes. A portage can carry you into a secluded lake where you are the only person around….to the perfect campsite next to a wonderful sandy beach….far far away from the regular beaten path….to places where stands of old growth pine can still be found…..where the songs of loons can be heard calling one another from distant lakes….or the howl of a wolf piercing the still night air, sending shivers up and down your spine….where the magical Northern Lights dance across the otherwise darkness….or you can wake up to a glorious early morning sunrise over the rocks and the trees and the sparkling waters. So grab your canoe and take that first step out along the trail.
I wrote a poem about my experiences canoe tripping which included the following verses:
As you near the far shore’s portage, you feel fresh, ready to carry the canoe Over the short yet rocky trail into the next small but distant lake Perhaps even to a welcoming campsite under the pines Settling down for the night under sparkling stars Maybe even catching glimpse of a shooting star or the Northern Lights
The cedar and canvas canoe rolls up onto your shoulders Not too much weight, a bit more than you remember from last year Just enough to let you know you’re still alive You double the carry over so you don’t overdo it Or maybe it’s just to take more time to see where you’re at
As you rest by a waterfall beside the path, you reflect on the day….on what lies ahead Still a few hours left before the sun sets….should be a full moon tonight Maybe you’ll hear the howl of a wolf…. the echo of a loon from a nearby lake You feel good….at ease….at home….and far from being alone The canoe and you have journeyed far…and still have farther yet to go
For each trip takes you away from the daily grind With each paddle stroke, there is definitely a greater peace of mind So you pick up your pack, walking the last of the portage Upon arrival, you launch the canoe onto the shining waters You and the canoe dance on into the remaining daylight
Paddles up until later then….and portages soon to be taken.
