Canoeing Ontario
"The river is the melody, the sky is the refrain"
Gordon Lightfoot
Whispers of the North
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Perhaps it started long ago in the mind of a child, with some mental image that slowly developed over time. Images of a deep and dark mysterious river meandering through some boreal forest or equally desolate landscape, tree boughs draped over the river bank sheltering it from intruders. A foreboding steel blue sky threatening from above, keeping secrets from all but the most adventurous. A mysterious place, A private place...this became my mental image of the mighty Moose River.
Fascinating tales of the Cour de Bois, hardy fur traders carrying their own weight in supplies to remote outposts, provided further material for day dreams during Canadian History Class in elementary school. As if by magic, the past suddenly became linked to my present with Ontario Northland Railway's Polar Bear Express. Here were photographs of a train packed with school children, not unlike myself, on an excursion back in time, faces pressed to the windows with wide eyed stares reflected in the waters of the mighty Moose River. I vowed that someday I would relive these childhood dreams and board the Polar Bear Express northward for a trip to Moosonee.
The 'North' to me has always been both a physical and mental place were one goes to rejuvenate one's soul--to brush away the hectic madness of the city and to feel closer not only to nature and the earth we all came from, but also to stand within this primeval cathedral of pine and granite and to be touched by one's own creator.
With the increased popularity of recreational sports and associated high-tech gear now affordable to most, the 'Near North' has become increasingly congested and the solitude is that much more elusive. Provincial parks have become infiltrated with 'weekend warriors' requiring equally intrusive hourly patrols by park staff. Yuppies have aged and now laundromats, showers and ceramic rest room fixtures have encroached on what was once the 'wilderness experience'.
It was during my years at the University of Western Ontario that I met my canoeing partner. After a few short trips found that we made compatible partners...in as much as we wouldn't kill each other over the last granola bar floating in the bilge water of the canoe! A casual, yet firm, partnership was formed and we pressed on to explore some of the rivers more removed from the beaten path.
It was during one of the early trips that we canoed the Missinaibi River. With the jump off point as the town of Mattice on the Trans-Canada highway, we would explore Kettle Falls, Thunder House Falls, Conjuring House Rapids and Long Canyon prior to descending from the Canadian Shield into the Hudson Bay Lowlands. Pressing onward, we would eventually be greeted by Portage Island and the spot where the merging waters of the Abitibi and the Missinaibi form a greater river. This was to be my first glance of the Moose River of my childhood imagining.
To my surprise, the Moose River was not deep and meandering, but quite shallow, carving a relatively straight path to the brackish water of James Bay. Trees on the banks had their boughs trimmed yearly by the flow of ice during the spring breakup and did not embrace the river as I had imagined. The width of the river allowed the warmth of the sun to penetrate giving a perfect view of the majestic northern sky which welcomed all visitors. The 'Moose' turned out to be nothing like the images conjured up in my childhood fantasies, except in the fact that it was no less grand and majestic.
We continued to paddle northward where the first sight of civilization in about ten days was the Ontario Northland's railway bridge spanning the river at Moose River Crossing. As we negotiated the rapid water around the base of the bridge, the sound of an approaching train thundered into our consciousness. There, to my amazement, appeared the Polar Bear Express--crossing the bridge at precisely the right time for us to see school children with their faces pressed against the windows greeting us with enthusiastic waves and discharging flash bulbs. We raised our paddles into the air in a salute!
That evening before the campfire at our destination of Moosonee, I felt the circle was complete. I had made it to Moosonee via the Moose River--under my own power! So much better than by the train trip I had once envisioned. I did take the ONR's 'Northlander' back to the civilization of Cochrane wondering what stories and images those school children may now have and how it may influence them in future years.
Life does not stand still and, sooner than I had anticipated, my partner and I were separately absorbed in the task of family life and earning a living. Not having canoed in several years now, I always hope to someday get back to some remote river and drift into sleep by the glow of a campfire and the sound of rushing water.
