Portaging - Life lessons on the trail

I’ve always hated portaging and have sought out canoe routes that had shorter ones or, better yet, none at all. When faced with one, I’d throw myself at it, burdened by bags and motivated by the twin emotions of anger and anxiety.

Last year, I lost my mind on a 1.1 km portage trail in Killarney. It started with falling down in a mud hole and being unable to get up because the old school canoe pack, the kind made out of serious canvas with leather buckles (the type that's heavy before you put stuff in it), was too much for me to lift with my legs splayed out, turtle style. Eventually, I crawled out from under it. ?Heat and insects didn't help. Neither did our 80 lbs. Royalex canoe that we attempted to lift and wheel onward and upwards.

Yes, wheel. To deal with its heaviness, we had bought attachable wheels for longer portage trails, but sometimes the act of rolling a canoe over rocks and roots is more work than just carrying it, especially if involves going uphill. A boat on wheels also behaves erratically and I wound up with many bruises from being bashed into at unexpected moments. That one portage took us more than two hours to make it through – with about three trips back and forth. Did I mention the mosquitoes? There may have been tears, some whimpering, and many curses on my part, before getting all our gear to the shore of Leech Lake.

This year, we did the same portage in less than half-an-hour – one pass, not three. I paused to look at ferns along the way. I actually smiled, as this was a lovely break in a long day of paddling.

So what changed?

Our gear. Our planning. But most of all, my attitude.

Yes, getting a lighter (42 lbs.!) used Kevlar canoe and more modern packs, as well as being ruthless in reducing the amount of stuff shoved into the bags, helped. So too did planning what each of us will carry ahead of time, rather than randomly picking up packs and loose stuff on arrival.

But the attitude part … felt like the biggest shift for me.

I actually like portaging now and see it as part of the trip to be savored and remembered. Curiosity drives me forward -- with almost a giddy anticipation of what might lie around the next bend or over the next hill on the trail. Like finding the waterfall midway through a 900 m portage in Algonquin. Or taking in the massive yellow birches along the almost 3 km portage between Killarney and Three Narrows Lakes.

On our last trip, my husband and I had a frustrating day paddling in the hot sun through a swampy section, getting lost in the wrong channel, and spending way too long finding our way out of the swamp onto the trail. We were spent and hadn't even started our hardest portage of the day. In the past, I would have plunged ahead – grimly, just wanting to just get it over with.

?But this year, we cracked out our camp chairs and, under the shade of the pine trees, had a snack. Then I picked up my 35 lbs barrel pack and hiked up the 900 m trail. When the pack felt too heavy, I distracted myself by looking at leaves and weirdly shaped rocks.

It’s taken two decades, well really a lifetime, but I’m finally realizing that anger and anxiety aren’t the way to “energize” yourself over obstacles.

Will it prevent me from getting lost, tired, or relentlessly bit by horseflies and mosquitoes? Probably not. But I'd rather deal with those challenges with calm, curiosity ... and chocolate. Chocolate makes everything better.

?Post script: We still have our Royalex canoe but are saving it for river trips. It's heavy but made to deal with bashing into rocks.