MOUNTAIN LIFE - Blue Mountains | Fall 2017

58 ML BLUE FALL 2017 The aroma is intoxicating: varnish, cedar, damp canvas and a hint of leather. It concentrates in the cavity beneath the overturned canoe and, like a strange analgesic, eases the pain of the tumpline on my neck as I lumber across yet another portage on the Lady Evelyn River, deep in northeastern Ontario’s Temagami region. Finally, I tiptoe down a slope of fridge-sized rocks, hyperaware of the consequences a misstep here would have on my body and boat. It feels good to cradle my 60-year-old Chestnut Prospector canoe in my arms and slide it into the water. Perhaps it’s because of the outdoor industry’s persuasive message of “ultralight and indestructible” that I cling so stubbornly to paddling a heavy and relatively fragile wood- and-canvas canoe on wilderness trips. Like most outdoor gear, modern canoes are products of the space age. Some manufacturers have even replaced wooden trim—the final vestige of tradition—with carbon and Kevlar. A few years ago, trippers freaked out when Royalex, a thermoplastic laminate invented by Uniroyal, was discontinued, threatening the generation of paddlers who relied on these bombproof canoes to navigate wilderness rivers. The cedar ribs and canvas skin of my venerable Chestnut are the antithesis to this modern mindset. Even the staunchest fast-and-light advocate would agree that my old Prospector is gorgeous; in fact, its construction is the closest relative to the Indigenous birchbark canoe. More understated is its performance: it paddles swiftly and silently, its wooden frame offering unparalleled buoyancy in rough water. It may be THE OLD WAY CANVAS AND WOODSMOKE IN THE TEMAGAMI WILDS Words & photos :: Conor Mihell PADDLING