by Dr. Bob Henderson
Geography. . . is finally knowledge that calls up something in the land we recognize and respond to. It gives us a sense of place and a sense of community. —Barry Lopez
All self-propelled travellers have places that stick in their minds. They come to places slowly. A fact - all self-propelled travellers "come to places slowly". These are places that linger poetically in one's mind years later and come to the forefront of long distance gazes and imaginative daydreams. One might inadvertently ponder at the oddest times, "I wonder what it is like at "X" now. This might help explain those "blank looks" not uncommon to otherwise urban dwellers who are also travellers in Canada's wild lands.
The Canadian bush, also referred to by Robert Service as the land "back of beyond," or described to Labrador traveller Elliott Merrick as the "country way back in," is perhaps too immense to be grasped as a whole. But it is a good exercise of the mind to try. Rather, we connect with places; places that allow us to extend our thoughts to the whole of the "beyond" and "way back in." Each such particular place can be informing to one's spirit or soul. The necessary "time out" must be taken to consider spiritual meanings and mysteries linked to the place. I have always loved the idea of the German visionary Goethe that, truth and mystery were dancing partners. A favourite campsite, a once-visited lake, a hilltop winter view from snowshoes, a particular waterfall, that one portage: these areas are all possible "Xs" that inform. Likely they are places where we have settled, quietly and serenely, allowing the setting to wrap around us. We all have such places that we have internalized at the gut level where the relationship between the beholder and the beheld epitomizes adventure, beauty, truth and mystery. The first three of these constitute "civilized virtues" for philosopher Alfred North Whitehead.
Nueltin Lake straddling the Manitoba/Nunavut border is such a place for me. I associate the lake with the best of a 40-plus day canoe trip in 1983. I also associate the lake (140 miles long) with people, although it is relatively without people now.
Labrador casts a spell on the mind. It is beautiful and haunting at the same time. Its stories are harsh and rough. Its travellers go to the extremes though I have found my trips there mostly calm and gentle. One can connect its particular heritage stories to the whole of its landscapes.
The Yukon is a vast sweeping-view country. The place is dominated by the mighty Yukon River, which in turn is forever connected with the Gold Rush of 1897-99. My chance discovery of a seasonal Native Peoples walking migration route from the coast to the interior serves as a constant reminder though, that what the Klondikers perceived as "wilderness" and/or "the frontier" of the North is also a place called Home to particular First Nation's groups.
The excursion model of life is well and good and I, like many Canadians, have developed seasonal life patterns based on travel outings near and far; the so-called weekend warrior (I'd rather think of it as wanderer) and the extended tripper. But while one may aspire towards a feeling of home in, say, the boreal forest, we might settle elsewhere. And that elsewhere should not be neglected for the exploration and stories it can offer. I worry the traveller tends to neglect, or at worst, negate the settled home as a site of inquiry and meaning. We should especially make "places" out of where we live, hopefully with a similar level of passion brought to the next exotic destination.
There are sacred and special places out there. You will know it when you are there. It might be so because you have been so told or you might discover one place peculiarly special to just you and a particular time and space. Sacred can mean public-a cultural place-or private, meaning a personal place. Most often the public or cultural ones have layer upon layer of culture significance or sacredness. The private ones just hit you-wow-and stay with you. Both, themes of place, the cultural and the personal, can be set apart in our mind and hallowed for the qualities they inspire in us. I have been particularly fascinated with prominent rock sites and ceremonial initiation sites along the transcontinental voyageur canoe routes.
In the general study of Literature, Geography and Outdoor/Environmental Education there is a unifying label now called "place-based" studies. This label points to one of among many signs of an emerging rethinking focusing us back towards the earth. Eminent Canadian scientist Stan Rowe captures this hope of a return to what we have neverleft:
Now we are struggling to understand what it might mean to become complaint co-operators with Earth's Ecosystems, hitherto insensitively appropriated as our resources and our heritage. What monumental conceit!
Now we are rediscovering "our place" and the notion of a place both as home and as worthy of our time, and rediscovering the need to dedicate time for "place-based" studies linked to our well-being. Again Stan Rowe, in writing about Grey Owl said; "For him. the spiritual dimension of wilderness experience [and our local home environments] was foremost-the antidote to humanity's preoccupation with itself." I do believe we are slowly moving away from a monumental conceit towards a humbler engagement with place.
Extracted from Every Trail has a Story by Bob Henderson| Published by Natural Heritage Books, Toronto, 2005 | ISBN 1896219-97-7
About the Author: Bob Henderson teaches Outdoor Education at McMaster University, Hamilton, Ontario. Starting as a camper and a canoe-tripping staff member at Camp Ahmek in Algonquin Park, he has developed a lifelong interest in Canadian travel heritage and travel guiding. Beginning in 1994, he continues to write a regular heritage travel feature for Kanawa Magazine. In 1995, Bob completed his PhD concerning approaches to travel guiding from the University of Alberta. He takes pride in baking a golden brown bannock and leading a spirited campfire singsong.
