Up, Up and Away: Our day in a Float Plane

Having found a reasonable internet connection I can now recount to you the wonder that was our float plane tour with Simpson Airways complete with pictures.

As I have mentioned before the float plane dock was right outside where we were staying at the Mackenzie Rest Inn. So, after being fed an almighty breakfast of cereal, eggs, bacon and toast we wandered down to the dock about half nine.

Our transport for the day

The pilot and another employee were getting the plane ready for takeoff, refueling etc. He introduced himself as Dave and I'm not quite sure what happened but somehow we ended up booking ourselves on a longer eight hour tour that took us not just to Virginia Falls but then on to a place called Glacier Lake.

Anyway, we all piled in to the plane which looked quite small from outside. I was worried about how we would all fit in such a small aircraft but, like Mary Poppins' carpet bag, it was deceptively roomy.

As we taxied downstream I was surprised how solid a surface the water felt underneath us. Suddenly, Dave remembered a parcel of food that had to be dropped off at a cabin in the mountains. Deciding to take a slight detour and give us an extra treat he returned to pick it up. Now we had the added bonus of a trip to Rabbit Kettle Lake to look forward to.

At last we took off, the plane gracefully lifting off the smooth path of the river, and I was able to look back down the river a good fifteen miles or so and see what we had paddled just three days before. It was vast but a plane is much quicker than two heavily laden canoes and in a matter of seconds we had turned and left it behind. I felt a tinge of frustration: that had taken us the best part of a day to travel.

We carried on inland away from the river heading for the world famous Nahanni National Park where the Virginia Waterfall is situated. To get there we had to fly through a gap in the Nahanni Range. Dave pointed it out to us: a blueish jagged line far on the horizon. It was about a half hour journey to them so we sat back, relaxed and enjoyed the view.

From the plane we got the best view of the surrounding landscape. The land always takes on a different character when seen from the air. It seems at once vast and small. You can see it stretching out in every direction but the trees and the lakes are so small and dainty. The ground is mostly flat and covered in vegetation. Sometimes it was covered in small shrubs that stuck up, bristling, sometimes the ground was soft with marsh, it looked smooth like felt. It reminded me of the moose hair tufting traditional crafts we had seen at the open sky festival: the stark contrast between rough and smooth.

The rough and the smooth

The Pilot dipped the plane wings to the right and his voice crackled over our headsets:
"There's a nice rainbow over there for you"
And indeed there was. A beautiful rainbow with clear colours arched from beneath the white clouds beside us to touch the textured ground.
We carried on flying over land that was much the same as before. A repeating pattern as on printed fabrics. I followed the shadow of our aircraft as it skimmed playfully over silver lakes, murky lakes, little lakes. The long, straight scars of old seismic survey lines ran through everything disturbing the perfect disorder that nature had arranged itself into.
But then, at last, after so long without so much as a tiny hill to break the landscape....mountains. Huge, great, big grandfather mountains. They crouched solidly with their blankets of trees pulled up to their chins. Their deeply carved faces watched placidly as we flew past. Once we passed over the Nahanni Range we carried on further into mountain country. The mountains were ribboned with streams and dried up river beds. One river bed was so thick with pale, soft silt that it reminded me of the inside of a milky way.

Grandfather mountains and the milky-way river

We carried on flying past mountains up through a system of three canyons that led to the Virginia Falls. We passed over hotsprings where the water was a milky, mint green, sweeping bends in the Nahanni River where the water rushed up against the sheer sides, white and foamy, and flat muddy stretches where the ribbon of river was slashed and shredded into different channels. The mountains varied too. Sometimes they were completely covered in tall, spiked trees but thinly so that they looked not so blanket like but more like the quivering quills of a porcupine. Sometimes the mountains were bare of trees but alive with the vibrant colour of yellow moss and the reddish tinge of the rock (or perhaps that was my tinted sunglasses).

And then Dave's voice came over the headsets again, in crackling bursts, to prepare us for our first glimpse of Virginia Falls: once one of the seven wonders of the world. Cameras ready we waited eagerly as he tipped the plane to allow us a better look. I was on the wrong side to take a good photo so put down my camera and simply looked. From my seat, three thousand feet up, I could see the spray from the crashing water as if it were as solid as the mountains that surrounded it. The falls were a heart-stopping drop into a canyon of white oblivion. I doubt there could be a scarier funfair ride in all the world than if you went over the edge of that. Having said that, the fun of the fun fair is being able to say you did it. You wouldn't be alive to say you went over the edge of Virginia Falls: it is twice as high as Niagra Falls.

This picture best shows the scale of the Falls

The falls disappeared from sight as we turned and began our descent to the visitor centre where we would take a walk of about a kilometer to the falls to experience the thunderous beauty as close as possible. We landed calmly on the Nahanni River and taxied down the thick and lazy waters to the float plane dock.
There, we were met by Pam who was to be our guide on our walk to the falls. We paid the entrance fee to the park which was virtually nothing when you consider that it goes towards the upkeep of an area the size of Scotland that is filled to bursting with plants and animals and geological specimins that are deemed to be some of the most unique in the world. They have an extensive walk-way around the Virginia Falls observation centre that has purpose built camping areas spawning off it. There is a food platform in the trees to keep food away from bears, outhouses and a communal campfire area all built from wood. It was like a little community nestled in the heart of the forest. The campers who stay there are mostly paddlers who are doing the Nahanni River and have to portage round the falls but, because the park is co-managed between the Government and the Dene Indians, there are also weeks where traditional skills are passed on to the younger generations of first nations children, much like the rights of passage camp at Fort Providence.
As we walked Pam kept up a rich narrative of our surroundings, pointing out plants like Labrador Tea and the Mackenzie Orchid. Showing us what Bears like to eat, what Moose like to eat and so on.

The Mackenzie Orchid

Labrador tea - used by the Dene for medicinal purposes and for drinking

 

She told us about the Dene attachment to the area. They used to spend the winter in the mountains, hunting and trapping in small family groups. When spring came they travelled down the Nahanni River into the Liard River and then onto the Mackenzie River - Deh Cho. Of course when the Europeans came to "discover" this huge landscape, being of much greater intelligence than the savage Dene they decided to travel UPstream against the current instead of downstream as the Dene did. Brave? Yes. An amazing feat of exploration? Yes. But clever? No not really.

Such was the harmony of the first nations people with the land that if, for whatever reason, they had to cross the river on their journey they stopped and constructed a boat out of the nearest tree and a moose hide. When they had crossed the river they simply abandoned the boat and it disintegrated (or as they say "went back to the land"). It is a testimony to them and their nature-friendly way of life that there are virtually no archeological artefacts to document their traditions because it all went back to the land. Every bone tool, birch bark pot and moose skin canoe.

We were getting close to the falls now and I was learning so much I had almost forgotten that that was why we were there. We were next to the rapids that precede the falls. The water tosses and boils, shifts and churns it's way forward. The white mist begins here. Pam told us that the Dene believe that the spirits of those who have gone over the falls live in the mist to protect those who stray too close to the rapids. I looked at the refracted light, the mini rainbows in the soft gauze of fine water droplets, heard the whispering rush of the river rapids over rocks and I could understand where this belief came from.

The rapids before the falls. See the spirits on the right hand side?

I'll leave you to digest this episode whilst I write up the rest of our float plane adventure in part 2 and then write up our short journey from Tulita to Norman Wells. Hope all is well with everyone. Been doing some maths - which isn't my strong point but I'm pretty sure I'm right - and it appears that we are exactly half way through our trip in terms of time. It's gone quite quickly don't you think? About six weeks since we left home and six weeks until we get home. We've done 513 statute miles so far and we have 340 to go. A managable distance all things considered.
Lots of love,
Hannah

Fort Simpson to Tulita: dirt, thunderstorms and birthday cake

I'm going to start this blog with a brief overview of our trip so far in figures. This might help put our journey into context. So here we go:

Set off: 19th June from Fort Providence
Arrived in Tulita: 21st July (100 miles from Arctic Circle)
Days on water (paddling): 23
Days off water: 8 (4 stormbound, 4 stopovers)
Total miles paddled: 370 nautical/473 statute

Total miles to go (until Arctic Red River): 311 nautical

Estimated arrival in Arctic Red River: August 22nd (assuming 3 days for stop overs, 6 days for bad weather)

Paddling days left: 21 days
Average Distance per day: 15 nautical
Worst record: 2.5 nautical

Best record: 36.5 nautical

 So there you have it. Our little adventure boiled down to facts and figures. Sitting here looking at the list I have just typed is strangely heartening. It seems much more managable now I know where we are in the grand scheme of things. Well, I can't really elaborate any more on that collection of numbers so I will, instead, tell you all about our journey from Fort Simpson to Tulita.

It took us 16 days as it is about 244.5 nautical miles. We set off late afternoon on the 5th of July having been food shopping and repacked the food barrels and personal kit. Very used to the home comforts provided by our generous hosts at the Mackenzie Rest Inn I was not looking forward to getting on the water again. They provide Elizabeth Arden bath robes in every room...I would be wearing the same clothes for the rest of the week.
 You can see my problem.
Dave (the Pilot from Simpson Airways) and his friend were kind enough to save us carrying all our gear down to the float plane dock where we were going to launch and instead we piled it all in their truck and were driven down. They helped us offload it all, which saved my poor arms carrying those weighty food barrels, and stayed to wave us off. Reg from the B and B came to say goodbye too. I don't know why but I was more grateful for the goodbyes than anything else these people had done for us. After a bit of reflection on this I decided it was because when you are heading out into the wilderness and you might not see another person for days on end it's nice to know you won't be easily forgotten. If people take the time to come and say goodbye or wave you off then that link with other people lasts just that little bit longer before you are absorbed into the little bubble that is you and your paddling companions and the endless river.

I have to say that once we were on the water I was glad of it. The current was relatively swift and we were in good spirits after our restful weekend. It was sunny and I sang as we paddled along. For some reason the song that always pops into my head as I paddle is that one from "Breakfast at Tiffany's". You know, "Moon River":
                                               Moon River,
                                               Wider than a mile.
                                         etc etc
                                               Two drifters off to see the world,
                                               There's such a lot of world to see

There are bits in between but those are the bits that are on repeat in my head. We had paddled about five or six miles and Fort Simpson was no longer visible when we heard thunder rumble in the distance. We stopped to put our waterproof tops on and fortify ourselves with trail mix (I swear I never want to eat another mouthful of that stuff ever again) and continued on. It got a bit bumpy and chilly after that but it was alright and we finished the day with a good 15 nautical miles between us and Fort Simpson.
It's hard to give you an accurate account of our progress in the days that followed because really the days all roll into one. One campsite is similar to another, one bend in the river the same, maybe, as the one before. But I can give you the highlights, the bits that really stick in my memory.
There was the day we paddled past the ferry to Wrigley. In winter the road continues over the frozen river, in summer there is a ferry. We stopped to put our rubbish in the bin there and ended up having coffee and a chat with Dave (no, a different one this time) who drove it and then with some Rangers who'd come from Tulita and what had intended to be a five minute trip to the bin ended up being a very pleasant couple of hours riding backwards and forwards on the ferry. We then paddled on and got no more than five miles away before we stopped for a snack and ended up sitting out a minor thunderstorm. We were joined by a party of three paddlers (one canoe, one kayak) from Minnesota, USA. Chuck, his son Richard and Richard's girlfriend Alana. Oh, and Cody the dog who was wearing his little yellow anorak. We chatted for another hour and a bit sharing horror stories of bugs and mud and then, deeming the weather to be better, we paddled our separate ways....only to end up camping on the same beach. A very enjoyable night was spent in the company of people who liked the outdoors, had travelled the world and had a lot of very interesting conversation between the three of them.

Cody the dog in his coat. His anorak was cuter. It was yellow and it had a hood

The next morning we were late out of camp because, yet again we were chatting and having exchanged emails we said our reluctant goodbyes. I'm ashamed to say I did think for a second that we could hide Cody the dog in a barrel and take him with us because he really was too cute but my morality won over thank goodness.
The next few days were punctuated by thunderstorms that were a merciful relief from the heat of the sun. At a campsite a few miles past Camsell bend, where the river starts to go north, we were woken in the middle of the night by a disturbance outside. I didn't see it, being at the back of the tent and without my glasses, but according to Dad and Mum a Wolf chased a young and very frightened Moose out of the trees and onto the beach. It lunged at it's prey and missed it by an inch as the terrified animal launched itself into the river and floated swiftly off (the current at that point was about 6 or 7 knots). Dad said he didn't know what had happened at first because it was the half light that passes for night time here. He thought that there were two moose and one had been stranded on the shore. The dark, hunched shape sat panting with exertion and frustration before straightening up and turning towards the tent. He said that it's dog-like appearance became more apparent as it turned and he realised it was a wolf. Mum described it as a breath-takingly magic moment seeing such a majestic creature up close. It eyed them coolly and disappeared back into the trees, silent and pissed off.
After that, the weather improved and we had a series of blisteringly hot days with temperatures over thirty from ten in the morning to ten at night. This weather began at the same wolf campsite which was situated next to a beautiful stream where the water was sweet and fresh. We had a half day of rest where we washed, as best we could, ourselves, our clothes and our hair. The water was so cold on my head I got a brain freeze as if I had eaten ice cream but it was refreshing in the heat of the day. Again we donned bikinis because it was too hot for anything else and even so we roasted slowly. I'm still peeling sun burn and that was two weeks ago and I was wearing factor fifty. We paddled late into the night that night, enjoying the perfect stillness that made the river like a mirror and marveling at the heat. We paddled in our bikinis and burned to a crisp until the sun went down at half eleven.

The view from our Wolf Campsite on one of the hottest days we had

The proof of our midnight visitor...we think

A few days after that we arrived in Wrigley. We had camped about four miles before it and were entertained at breakfast by a beaver swimming determinedly upstream against a very strong current. It was so close to the shore that you could see it's little ears sticking up, shaped like little chocolate drops. It was sleek and mover smoothly through the water, bent to the cave of the wave it was creating. A couple of times it disppeared only to reappear downstream and beging it's journey back up again. It landed further up the shore from us too but ignored us not even glancing our way. We, of course, were enraptured. Standing as still as we could, moving as quietly as possible. I don't think it would have made a difference if we had jumped up and down and shouted, he really was indifferent to us. Finally after about twenty minutes he slapped his tail and dived down and we didn't see him again.

That was also the day the zip on the tent broke. The zip to the inner of our Tipi no longer closes which is ok if there are no bugs to bother us even if it is a bit chilly but we are going to try to find someone in Norman Wells who has a sewing machine to sew another one on. We could do it by hand but it would take hours as it is a very long zip. Having patched up the zip as best we could we paddled onto Wrigley. Unfortunately we were unable to stay and to see the settlement but we had an interesting conversation with some brothers on the beach. They had been raised in the bush until they were about twelve, until the fur trade dried up, and then they settled in a settlement as their parents wanted them to go to school.

A couple of days after that we became windbound at Johnson River for an extra day. We were waiting until it blew through when a coastguard ship passed. We checked in with them for safety and thought no more of it. After the wind died down we paddled into the night (bearing in mind it doesn't get to be darker than a bright twilight) until Blackwater River about 17 miles north. True to it's name the water of the Blackwater River as it met the Mackenzie was black as ink. We then paddled a couple of miles down the coast searching for a good camping spot. When we found one we landed and, for the first time in a week, were much troubled by mosquitos as we set up camp. We realised soon after landing that we were about a quarter of a mile away from where the coastguard ship we had seen was moored. We could see it white and pristeen just around the corner from us. The next day was as windy as the day a Johnson River. We sat and tried to wait it out as the wind screamed past our Tipi. One of the crew members from the coastguard ship passed by onhis way back from fishing and stopped to chat. I was asleep at this point, knowing that naps are important if we are going to paddle during the night again, so I don't know how it occured but we ended up being invited down to the ship "say hi".
So at about half seven we made our way down the beach, following the wolf tracks, the bob-cat tracks and the pin-toed porcupine prints as we went, and were welcomed warmly onto the "Dumit". We were given a tour of the galley and fed cake and orange juice; the engine room (Dad loved that); and the bridge which has stunning views being three walls of windows. Then it was back to the galley where we were given yet more chocolate and banana cake (not ashamed to say I had three slices) which made a nice change from instant mash, and also coffee with PROPER milk out a carton, not dried. We talked to various members of the crew who were around and they all seemed pretty excited about having visitors. We also got to use the internet quickly which was nice. We left about half past ten in the evening, full up on cake and cookies and grateful for the conversation and the hospitality we had been shown. The wind, however, still had not died down sufficiently to paddle and so we made the decision that, after eating dinner and packing up as best we could, we would get up early at 4 am and continue on to try to make up for the miles we had lost.
And so that's what we did. We had a cup of tea, packed the personal kit and the tent and then loaded the boats. Being so early we were a little sluggish and didn't get on the water until half six but by half nine we had about twelve miles under our belts. Maya and I begged Mum and Dad to let us stop for breakfast which we did. I fully intended to help cook but as soon as I had laid out the mat that we sit on I just don't know what came over me and I curled up and went to sleep. By the time we had eaten and had a nap it was twelve befor we were on the water again. We paddled until three and then stopped for a sort of lunch/dinner. We ate and slept again, getting on the water at half five and carrying on until about nine when we stopped to set up camp. By the end of that day we had made up the miles we had lost on our windbound day at Blackwater and set our record of 36.5 nautical miles. I don't think that will happen again though.
The next day we did a respectable 23 miles and in the process passed the half way point from where we started at Fort Providence to where we will finish at Arctic Red River. This point is called Old Fort Point and I was very glad when we passed it because now what we have left to paddle seems more managable. We paddled on a further seven miles or so to Seagull Island where, seeing swollen, purple clouds loomingin the distance, we began to look for a camp. Dad had a hunch that the storm would set in for a few days instead of blowing over in an hour as they had been so he was very picky about where we camped. It took an hour and a half of searching before we found somewhere and even then it wasn't ideal. It was next to a stream but it wasn't good drinking water, the ground was relatively soft so the pegs for the tent went in ok but it was stony  so we had a bit of difficulty. We were also close to some tall trees incase the lightning which accompanied the great drum-rolls of thunder decided to strike but the ground was uneven making for sloping sleeping areas. All in all it wasn't bad and we were so tired, it being about half ten at night, that we didn't want to go on searching so we set up camp to the melody of the rain hitting the river and the crashes of percussion thunder. The occasional flash of lightning served as pyrotechnic effects. This was the 18th of July and it was Mum's birthday in a few hours. At midnight I took her a birthday meal of instant mash and a tin of tuna in the relative warmth of the tent. I promised myself we would make more of an effort once we had had a sleep.
When we woke up the next day the wind was shrieking all around us. The rain pelted our poor Tipi incessently. Dad and I got up around ten to make cups of tea and cook cinnamon and raison porrige. We were joined by Mum and Maya during a lull in the rain but the wind was so strong our meal went cold in a matter of minutes. We shooed Mum off to the tent to keep warm and relax with her book and set about trying to make her birthday a little bit more enjoyable.
We had a Betty Crocker Chocolate cake mix and a tub of Vanilla Cream Frosting that Maya and Dad had bought in Fort Simpson for this purpose. However, we had intended to cook it over a fire for better results that with the stove...you cannot light a fire in driving horizontal rain and a wind of force 5 gusting 6. We discussed at great length how to devise a make-shift oven to stop the cake burning with the concentration of heat you get from a stove. Eventually we settled on an idea that Dad had.
We put some water in a large cooking pot and brought it to a rolling boil. We mixed the cake mix (albeit with dried egg powder) and poured half into another cooking pot of about 6" diameter and 6" depth which we had greased and put the lid on. This we placed inside the big cooking pot with the boiling water and put the lid on that. We had effectively created an oven that would spread the heat to cook the cake all the way through. Huddled under the cooking shelter we waited. I left about an hour later to play cards with Mum (I won) and Dad and Maya waited further hour until the cake was cooked right through and risen beautifully. They took it out the water pot and put it inside a barrel to cool without getting wet. When it was cool we iced the top and decorated it with dried apricots for want of anything else. We had with coffee after a camp dinner of macaroni, tinned tomato sauce and cheese. I have to say we were proud of our little achievement and pleased that Mum enjoyed it. I think it turned out to be a nice birthday under the circumstances. We had a card too and a belgian chocolate bar we had saved that hadn't melted quite as badly as the rest of our chocolate so the thought was there!
We were storm-bound the next day too and, if possible, it was even worse than the day before. I stayed in bed until about half eight in the evening when I got up to ice the cake that Maya had made with the left over cake mix. I washed up the coffee cups from supper and collapsed the food shelter but apart from that I was thoroughly unhelpful. I will try better next time I promise.
The next day was thursday 21st of July and we were determined to get to Tulita. It had been a tantalising 17 nautical miles away for the past three days and we couldn't stand not having a shower any longer. The storm had died down but we woke with a shock when Mum realised that a storm surge had caused the river to rise to within 6" of our tent. It was a mad scramble to pack up the tent and the kit before it was engulfed but we succeeded and watched the water rise to cover the space from the shelter of the cooking area further up the hill. We rang ahead to the Tulita Hotel and managed to get a couple of rooms booked for that night and the next with the help of Cecil from the band office. We set off around 3pm and made good time, arriving at about half seven. We were given a lift up to the hotel and a tour of the town by a very kind Valerie. Tulita is a lovely little hamlet. The Hotel is opposite the Northern Stores and the band office and there is a community congregation area in the centre of this circle of buildings, rather like a village green.
That first shower was amazing. I scrubbed and scrubbed and I still couldn't get all the dirt off my hands but it didn't matter; I FELT clean and I certainly didn't smell anymore. I don't know whether you have even been so dirty that there are permanent gray streaks down you arms and face and your elbows take on a black tint. I don't know if you have ever been so dirty that if you rub your hand firmly along you skin the film of filth -of sweat and mud and old suncream and insect repellant - breaks up into tiny, greasy black balls that roll down your arm. And I don't know if you have ever been so dirty that your nails are black for days on end but that is how dirty we have been for the past two weeks. The shower was heaven.
We were also able to wash all our clothes which reeked. This is partly due to our canoeing gear. Gortex dry trousers, whilst being useful when faced with the Mackenzie mud do not breathe well. We ended up emitting a rather pungent and vinegary smell that clung to the trousers we wore under the dry trousers. It was repulsive. Thankfully that smell has been banished for a while but I am sure it will return once we spend more than about four days on the water.
We cooked a meal in the communal kitchenette (hotels up here are generally self-catering) and for the first time in days I ate a meal without the shiver-making crunch of lumps of grit in my rice.
Yesterday we went shopping (!!!) and I ate myself stupid. We had brunch after we came back from the store and I had a fried egg, two rashers of bacon, two toasted cinnamon and raison bagels with nutella, a slice of hot buttered toast, a bowl of cereal and two cups of tea with proper milk. A very happy Hannah indeed. I then sat down to write this blog entry and the one about the float plane tour and upload pictures and consumed god knows how many oat cookies. I didn't get the blogs finished as you may have guessed even though I was writing for hours. I just didn't realise how much we had done. For dinner we had Ceasar salad to start, then roast chicken legs in gravy with veg and fries and then treacle and pecan tarts with custard. And more cups of tea. Simply having the variety of food, the tastes, the textures, a meal that isn't cold as soon as it's cooked and that doesn't contain sand is a pleasure. I have truely come to appreciate the sheer amount of THINGS our way of life allows us to have. I am pleased to say that I will go home a happier, wiser more contented person. I find it interesting I have let go of a lot of the things that worried me at home. Most notably my life plan. I had planned to be successful and working myself happily to death by the time I was thirty. Whatever I was going to end up doing I was going to put my all into and be the best. Now I simply don't care. Where would that get me? Lonely and disillusioned I'm pretty sure. I have learnt to enjoy myself. To enjoy the sun on my back, the food I am given and to make the most of every situation because nothing ever goes according to plan. I know now that what means more to me than any career are the people I will meet who will become my friends and the people who are already my friends, my family and my boyfriend. Chuck who we met after the Wrigley ferry said an interesting thing to us. He said that if you do interesting things you will meet interesting people and I think this is true. University no longer seems to have the importance it did. It is still important but less in the way of being successful and getting on in life and more for the things I will learn and discover and the people I will meet. If this trip has given me anything it is a fresh perspective on who I am and what my life is about. I am lucky. Some people go their entire lives and never understand the things I have come to understand. I see my life spreading out before me, empty and huge like the bowl of sky we paddle under and I know I will live it until it is full to the brim. It might be hard at times but I think that, overall it will be a happy one and everything I do will be worth it.
Enough of philosophy and revelation for now. I musn't bore you with things you might already have know for yourselves. We leave this afternoon and I have yet to add pictures to the blogs. Next stop is Norman Wells about 82km or three days paddling so a nice relaxing stretch with swift current and food barrels stocked with all kinds of goodies like caesar salad kits and oat cookies. Sorry about the lack of pictures again. The internet is very slow here. It took over half an hour to upload the ones I did. This is also why I haven't posted the float plane blog. It is written but I can't do it justice without the pictures. Take care all of you back home.
Lots of love,

Hannah

Picture Entry

I am conscious that the last two blog entries have been lacking the extra dimension that photos can give you. The internet speed seems much better this evening and so I decided to do a picture entry to make up for it. I know I said there wouldn't be another entry for a while but we decided to stay until this morning (tuesday). The main reason for this is that near Fort Simpson is Virginia Falls. This was once one of the seven wonders of the world so it really is a must-see if you are in the area. We have heard this from so many people that Mum and Dad decided we couldn't leave without taking one of the float plane trips to see them. It was an eight hour tour of the falls and some surrounding beauty spots that we went on yesterday.It was an amazing trip to some truly awesome places. Unfortunately I don't have time to upload the pictures and do another blog before we leave so I'm sorry but you'll just have to wait! I've got about two weeks on the water to plan it and I'll hopefully find an internet source in Wrigley to post it all on here.

We said goodbye to the Groenewegen family on sunday morning and moved into a very very nice B and B for our last two nights. The owners are very kind and took us at quite short notice and the house is beautiful. It is the Mackenzie Rest Inn (http://www.mackenzierest.ca/). We have been eating dinner at the local chinese restaurant "The Sub Arctic Restaurant" which has very good food. So far our stay in Fort Simpson has been fantastic and we don't want to leave!

( I (Fiona) say a huge thankyou to Diane for help with bite remedies and the use of her own for the trip. Also a huge thankyou to Reg and Lois of the Rest Inn for a true home from home. We are sad to leave Fort Simpson feeling we need more time to see all the people we have not had much time with. Many thanks to David from Simpson air for the amazing trip and help getting shopping today. Maybe I will have a go at blog writing along the way. Although Hannah is doing a great job.)


And, back to Hannah now! Here are some photos to illustrate our trip so far from being dropped off in Fort Providence to now. I won't include any of the Dene Indian camp we attended as it was a private affair we were kindly included in and I feel that to put up pictures of the people or the camp would be a little intrusive but everything else is here. Enjoy!

One of the waterfalls that Doug Swallow took us to on the way to Fort Providence



The sunset of our first night on the river



There are always tracks where ever we camp. Of Moose, Bear, Wolf. Some are old and some quitefresh
but we've never seen any of these animals yet



This was one of the hottest days. It was about 35 degrees all day. We had a rest day to break the tiring cycle of night paddling. Maya and I resorted to bikinis to keep cool and played cards all afternoon. I won :)



Food Time! Our food has to be light-weight and give us the right balance of protein and carbohydrate to get us through the day so the stores include things like instant mash, powdered milk, powdered egg, ready made pancake mix. We do have a block of cheese to liven up the mash and tins of tuna and corned beef are integral to our diet now. So is instant soup...

After that bad day on the water we looked like a couple of drowned rats who'd been through a wind tunnel

Trying to dry the medical kit after discovering the hole in the dry-bag

The Groenewegen Family who were so good to us. Thankyou for a lovely weekend!



Us with our purchases. Mum and Maya and I bought traditional moccasins. Dad, for some reason, bought a blue kettle from the local supermarket.



The front deck and view of the Mackenzie River from our B and B

Inside the B and B is beautifully decorated (and they make nice cookies)



This photo was given to us by the owners of the Mackenzie Rest Inn. It is of the sunset at midnight on the summer solstice at the float plane dock in front of the B and B. The float plane second from right is the one that we went up in yesterday.



And hopefully that's you all visually up to date with our adventure. I'll try to spread the pictures out between the blogs next time instead of giving you a picture overload. Sorry, that was bad planning on my part. This time we really are leaving and won't be in contact for a couple of weeks unless it's via sat phone. Please remember that messages from the Iridium website we CAN'T REPLY TO. So if you want to send a message send it via email. The Sat Phone email address is on the right handside of the blog in the information section. Miss you all, hope the summer is going well back home,

lots of love

Hannah

Home comforts and the Open Sky Festival

We have made it to the pretty town of Fort Simpson in good time with two days paddling and one days rest. We left Jean Marie River on the wednesday in absolutely awful weather: the rain was driving in our faces and we had a strong head wind that almost cancelled out the five knots of current flowing beneath us. Ordinarily I doubt we would have set off in such conditions but we had heard that there was a festival on in Fort Simpson this weekend and wanted to make it there for that. We had also fixed up to meet up with the Gronewegen family for the event and spend the weekend with them. So, given these reasons, we duly set off with the weather against us.

Mum and I took a last minute trip to the band office to use the flushing toilets (still a novelty) and were kindly given cups of coffee and the weather report for the week whilst Dad and Maya packed up the tent in the cold and the rain (another thing this trip is teaching me is how to be selfish). We said goodbye to the people at the band office who had been so hospitible and kind - Donna Sake, Tammy Neal and Erma Norwegain - and trudged out into the grey mist again.

That day was possibly one of the hardest of my life. For some reason Dad and Maya didn't feel as affected but Mum and myself felt the full force of the weather. I was cold, so cold, all the hours we were on the water even though I had plenty of layers on. The rain was so consistent that our waterproofs began to leak and I discovered that actually there is no such thing as a completely waterproof waterproof. Where my clothes were sodden on my fore arms and my knees the wind felt like ice. Visibility was poor, mile upon mile of steep green blank melting darkly into the mist, and it felt like we weren't getting anywhere at all. After about five miles we rafted up for a rest. The wind and the current played with us, tossing us this way and that, pulling us round and then pushing us back. There are virtually no stopping places or good camping places on this stretch of water and we were heading for a place called Rabbit Skin River where there are some cabins and flat ground. Looking at the map I realised it was 15 miles from Jean Marie. We had ten miles to go. I looked at the isolating mist, felt the sharp sting of rain on my face, tried to stir my leaden limbs and couldn't imagine how we could possibly get there. I'm not ashamed to say I burst into tears and didn't stop for a while . I paddled on hunched over and battling with the wind/current combination until I just couldn't feel anything anymore. I had to use my whole body, bracing my legs, tensing every muscle in my arms and stomach to lever the paddle, just to have the slightest effect on where the boat went and slowly my arms and my stomach muscles turned to jelly. Eventually we reached an almost trance-like state where you could feel the paddle dipping in and out and you knew it was cold, hard work but you forgot how it felt and why you where doing it. I have no idea how long we were on the water because I didn't check our leaving or arrival times but it must have been hours, my guess is around five or six hours of virtually non-stop paddling. I remember Dad forced a Mars Bar down my throat and things got easier after that. I day-dreamed, as I paddled, about getting home and seeing my friends and my boyfriend and eating all the foods I'm missing (I have this crazy craving for Cathedral City Mature Chedder - a whole block to myself). About two and a half miles before Rabbit Skin River we stopped for a toilet break having spotted the only get-out point for around 8 miles. The mosquitos were the last straw for Mum, unfortunately, as they dive-bombed her relentlessly. We bundled her, shivering uncontrollably from the cold, back into the boat and paddled those last few miles. I really felt for her becasuse she'd obviously reached some kind of wall she couldn't break through but it made even more work for me in the back of the boat because she just didn't have any strength to help give the boat any momentum.

Eventually we landed at Rabbit Skin River and the relief we all shared was palpable. It was also short lived. We had set our hearts (stupidly) on there being someone in the cabins to be a friendly face and a warm welcome but they were empty and the drizzle continued as the mosquitos swarmed around us. We had to carry all our kit up a hill to the flat campground slipping and sliding in the mud. Having paddled so hard for so long  I just don't know how we found the strength but we did. Maya and I set up the emergency tent and put Mum in it. I brewed her up a quick cup of sweet tea while Dad and Maya put the Tipi up. Then Maya and I hauled the personal kit up the hill and started setting up the inside of the tent. We changed into dry clothes and piled on the layers and slowly began to get warm. When Dad brought up the food barrels we set about making dinner - a feast of instant mash and corned beef. I looked at my watch and realised it was midnight. We hadn't eaten anything but trailmix and a mars bar in twelve hours. How we had done all we'd done that day I don't know because it's not as if we ( excepting Dad) are used to the hard, physical work but we did. As a treat Dad gave us a whole chocolate bar each to munch on in bed and, cosy and tired, we drifted off to sleep. I think that warm, safe moment in our Tipi as the rain pounded outside is one of the really good memories I will take home. The feeling of having gritted my teeth and got on with it and it all being over. As Dad put it: "The good thing about storms is that they always end".

The next day we stayed where we were. The weather had cleared slightly but it was still cold with showers and we hung a line out in the sunny spells to dry all our stuff. Dad discovered that there was a hole in the dry bag for the medical kit so all the bandages and things were soaking and had to be dried. I had a wonderful day. I slept in til half eleven and read (and finished) a book only getting up at half four. Then we spent hours making as much Bannock as we could eat and slathering it in cherry jam, chocolate spread and margerine. We washed up and I went to bed at half nine while Mum and Maya played cards. It was a lovely day.

Yesterday, Friday, we slept in. For some reason no-one heard their alarms and instead of getting up at seven we got up at quarter to nine. We didn't get on the water until about 2pm, I can't even remember why. It was a much easier day's paddling because the current was about four and a half knots and even though there was a head wind we didn't have to paddle hard to go at a good speed. At around four we stopped for a quick dinner of tuna, couscous and instant soup because breakfast ahd been a long time before that. A quick nap in the sun and we paddled on to Fort Simpson. It was slower going than before as the river widedened but we got to our destination at about 8pm. Very good time considering we had paddled for twenty miles or so and had an almost two hour stop. Crossing the mouth of the Laird River, just before Fort Simpson, as it hit the Mackenzie was...interesting. Entire trees floated past; roots, branches and everything else. The water was cloudy and according to the map we were floating over a sand bar but we couldn't see any evidence of it.

We landed at the float plane dock and were met by Jordan and Kathleen Groenewegen (remember? from Hay River?) and their children and Bear, the huskie dog. We went to the campsite to set up the tents and ordered a Chinese Take-away (another of my cravings). The luxury of having too much food and something that tasted so much more interesting than "Smash" was amazing. Even though the bugs were horrific we were very contented as we stuffed our faces. We lit a fire and sat around it talking and eating chocolate and crisps(!!!) and drinking cups of tea. Another lovely night.

This morning we decided it was too bug-ridden in the campsite so we splashed out and found an apartment to share between our two families. Oh the excitment when we realised we would have beds and chairs and a toilet that flushed! I must say I had a wonderful hot shower this morning at the campsite which was a good start to a day that has just got better and better. When we moved into the apartment we had hot dogs for lunch. Then we walked to the festival site and heard the music and walked around the traditional stalls. We met up with someone we'd met in Jean River, Lucy Simon, who does moose hair turfting and other traditional crafts. From her, Mum and Maya and I bought moccasins. Kathleen taught us a good trick. If you smell them and they are smokey then the hide has been traditionally prepared and is not comercially produced. The bead work on the front of them is beautiful and colourful and the hide itself is soft and SO comfortable. I'm wearing them right now and they feel silky when I wiggle my toes around. I love them.

We went to the supermarket to stock up and bought ice-cream and cookies and fresh vegetables and apple juice. We had barbequed steak for dinner with salad and asparagus and potato. I am now sitting on a very comfy sofa recounting our latest adventures to you as everyone else talks animatedly. I can smell coffee and mum has just put some chocolate in front of me. Now seems like a good time to finish this entry as I'm quite looking forward to that bed that is waiting for me with pillows and cool sheets and a soft duvet. Again the speed of the internet prevented me uploading photos to accompany our story so I'm sorry if this entry seems a little bit dry. Next entry might not be for a couple of weeks as the next stop is Wrigley, about ten days paddle away at our pace. Until then I send you all lots of love and thankyou all so much for the messages we get on the sat phone. It's nice to be in touch because we do think about you all out here. Just a note, if you have used the Iridium website to send a message we can't reply to you. The sat phone won't let us. We can reply to emails though. Just to clear that up.
see you soon,
Hannah

Civilisation! At last!

Well we've reached a small settlement called Jean Marie River. It is a very pretty place about a week's paddle from Fort Providence. We arrived about 9pm last night and had a days rest today. They let us use the showers at the Band office and I'm currently logged on to their WiFi. This is the first time I have been properly clean in over a week and it's amazing! I will never ever take showers or running water for granted ever again. In fact this trip is making us appreciate a lot of things more than we did. Flushing toilets, for example, have now become a luxury and I feel ever grateful to a certain Thomas Crapper, inventor of said flushing toilet. What a genius!

We started off our trip last Sunday being dropped off at Fort Providence. Just as we were loading the boat we got talking to someone who knew someone else and to cut a long story short we were invited to attend a traditional Dene Indian camp about half an hour's paddle down the river. It was a truly beautiful and peaceful place that the local school uses to put the pupils back in touch with their culture and their ties to the land. We were met by shouts of welcome and kindly they fed us and gave us cups of tea. The girls at the camp sang for us and gave us each a tiny bundle of medicines tied in red material with white string. The red is for protection and white is for purity. They had been blessed with their prayers for us on our journey to give us strength and keep us safe. It was touching that they had thought to do this given that we had known them less than an hour. I keep mine safe in my pocket at all times and it has become a source of comfort.
The next day we were allowed to join in a traditional, sacred cleansing ceremony which was an experience I will never forget. For some reason that I cannot get my head around it was a place that made you very emotional and after the ceremony I did actually feel better, more at peace. Whatever the reason, the hospitality and kindness we were shown was astounding and we are very grateful to everyone who was there for letting us be part of such a special event.



Sunset over Mills Lake. Summer solstice about 11pm

 We set off down the river late on Monday evening and unfortunately didn't make camp until the early hours of tuesday morning. We had only managed to do about 8 nautical miles (16km) and we were tired and grumpy the next morning. We woke up late too and so had to do another night paddle. Fortunately it doesn't really get dark here at the moment it just remains dusk for six hours or so but still it was a strain. That evening was the summer solstice and I can say with pride that when the sun set on tuesday 21st of june at 11:34 pm we were paddling Mills Lake. It is a ten mile wide lake with little current to help and it is so vast you can't see where you are paddling to. You just have to keep on going, your paddle strokes slicing the silence rhythmically, and wait for the blue haze to make itself into something solid.

The next few days continued like this. They were really really hard for a number of reasons. We weren't used to the physical effort everything took. Packing up camp is exhausting and takes around three hours. Then we paddle about ten or twelve miles (20-24km) on average though sometimes more. There was virtually no current to help for the first week. In fact it was only yesterday we actually noticed it helping us; we managed around twenty miles. On top of that, Mum and I have reacted to the insect bites. The first five days my hands were swollen up and red and itchy which made doing anything really sore. Mum's face is swollen and puffy - quite painful too. Maya has had a cold and an earache for most of the journey so far and I think Dad is tired trying to make things easier for us to adjust. It is getting easier. Daddy gave me something magic to take the reaction down and we are settling into a rhythm and a daily routine. We get up between 8 and 9 am (no more night paddling thak goodness!) and have breakfast, break camp, pack the boats and we're on the water around midday-1pm. We paddle through the afternoon and look for a place to stop for dinner about five or six pm. Then paddle for another two hours till we find a place to camp.

The thing that really will stick in my mind, and that to some extent I find hardest, is the sheer amount of SPACE. This is one of the only true wildernesses left on the planet and remains virtually unchanged since Alexander Mackenzie journeyed down it in 1789. It is just huge. Hundreds of miles of trees and insects in every direction. At times it feels like you aren't going anywhere at all and you'll never reach land. Sometimes I look up at the great dome of sky and feel like a tiny plastic toy in a snow globe: I half expect some giant to be staring down at me, laughing at us bobbing bravely along in our little boats.

This place is teaching me a lot about myself. So far I have learned of both my significance and my insignificance. I now know how significant I am in terms of my actions because everything I do out here has a concequence. For example,  if I leave the tent open and the mozzies get in everyone is uncomfortable. Also I think I am beginning to understand how much influence I have over my own life because if I can do this then I can do anything I put my mind to. My insignificance is something I have discovered and that has humbled me. In the grand scheme of things I don't matter much because life and nature and the world will carry on regardless. When I put my paddle in the water, the river doesn't part for me to let me on my way. I have to part it with all the strength I can muster.

A few nights ago hardly any of us slept very much. There was a pack of wolves howling somewhere in the dusk of the night. It wasn't scary but I felt like I was tresspassing on their home. It was obvious they belonged there. It is an eerie sound that grows and grows as more of them join in then tails away to one lone end note. They did this almost every hour and each time I woke up and found it hard to drop off again. I was grumpy the next day I can tell you!

Nap-time has become a crucial part of the daily routine

I am really sorry but this is all I can write for this entry and this far North the internet is slow so uploading lots of photos takes forever. The Band office where the WiFi is closes in ten minutes so we have to clear out. We should be arriving in the next settlement, Fort Simpson, in three days so there might be another blog soon if I can get internet. We miss everyone at home but we'll be back soon,
lots of love
Hannah

Thankyou to Doug Swallow

From the moment we got here in Hay River Doug Swallow has been incredibly helpful. He took us to our apartment and at first Dad gave him the wrong address and we ended up a few miles out of town so he had to take us all the way back in again and was very nice about being inconvienienced. He let us use his workshop for the whole of yesterday to unpack our Freight box and on top of that he is going to drive us two hours down to Fort Providence so we can avoid the fast water before Fort Providence as our boats will be very heavily laden and so, hard to control.
He also, very kindly, gave us a proof of his daughter's book which is a guide to the Mackenzie River. It is wonderfully written and will be very useful to us on the trip. For anyone who is interested the book is "The Mackenzie River Canoe Guide" by Michelle Swallow and will be out next month so look out for it.

Doug's Canoe Rental business is based in Hay River - http://www.canoenorth.ca/  (he is the one renting us the  Clipper Trippers) and we can certainly, highly recommend it as an outfitter to anyone contemplating doing this journey, so once again, many thanks to Doug.

Final Preparations

We've fixed our date for leaving Hay River. We leave tomorrow (Sunday 19th of June) and drive to a place called Dory Point. This is at the beginning of the Mackenzie River after the Great Slave Lake. We decided not to do the Great Slave Lake as it saves us about four days paddling and it would have been quite exposed.
So far we have done most of the food and pharmacy shopping but there is a bit more to do which Mum will do today. We need to take about two weeks worth of food with us to be on the safe side.
Our freight with all our equipment that we shipped over in April finally arrived yesterday so today Dad Maya and I will unpack it all then repack it to go in the boats.
We are going to be renting two Yellow 18'6" Sea Clippers which are just like one of our open canoes back home so we don't have to worry too much about getting used to different kit because different styles of boat perform differently and they often feel different in terms of how and where you sit in relation to the gunnel, how much effort you put into each paddle stroke and how smoothly they cut a path through the water. Sea Clippers are lovely boats to paddle. They are fibre glass so are light to carry and move well through the water. They are also quite stream lined and the seats are comfortable. Unfortunately, being fibre glass, they scratch easily and are also slightly higher up out of the water than the boat that Maya and I normally paddle.
 After we have completed the food shopping we have to take all the original packaging off and re-bag it in person/day portions. For example, for breakfast we will most likely eat Bannock which is a dough-like mixture cooked on a skillet. Then we'll have butter and honey on it. It is a good source of carbohydrate which will set us up for a hard morning's paddling. We will have to pre-make the bannock mixture by measuring out the right amount of flour per portion etc and bagging it to be packed. As you can imagine this will be a mammoth undertaking in terms of time and organisation but it is necessary. Dad has bought "Pilot biscuits". He says that it is like a "right of passage" that we have to eat one which, to me, sounds quite ominous. I will, however endeavour to be brave in the face of my first challenge and will report back on this "essential trip experience".

well...they look harmless enough.....

Two weeks worth of food waiting to be repacked

This is our Box

Unpacking our box: it felt like christmas

Checking kit lists incase anything was missing

Laying out the contents of each barrel (everything was then split into two piles one for each boat)

Finally we're finished packing the kit

So, that was Packing in Pictures and we're still packing even though it is now 11:45pm Canadian time. Just now the food is being bagged up. Mum did all the medical stuff while we were doing kit today and when we got back to the apartment we packed personal gear.
We were very kindly invited round to dinner by a couple we met, Jordan and Kathleen Groenewegen. The food was lovely and the company was excellent so thankyou very much to them and their friends and family. This just serves to back up our first impressions of the Canadian people as being extrordinarily friendly and generous.
We leave at about 9:00am tomorrow morning to drive to Fort Providence so it's an early start and a late night because we still have a lot to do!
Well I suppose I should stop shirking and help or something so I'll have to finish this entry pretty soon. I'd just like to point out before I do, though, that as we are setting off and don't know how well we'll be able to access the internet in the next few days this might be the last entry in a while. Then again it might not, we'll just have to see. If you need to, or indeed want to contact us, then the details are on the right hand side of this page and it would be nice to hear from people every now and then.
Until next time, lots of love,
Hannah