Sigurd Olson’s Arctic canoe trip

We found the north a harsh country, a land of little grace and less mercy. For the fourteen days we spent at the east end of Great Bear Lake, in near-barren terrain just southwest of the tree line, we were always cold, often wet, and occasionally as miserable as men can be without any serious trouble. We found out why the Mackenzie Valley, with its real soil and its real trees and its fairly warm summer days, is known in the north as the Banana Belt.

But never, even at our coldest and wettest, did any of us for a moment regret having come. What drew us were the things that draw so many men, and a few women, to the north—the challenge, the sense of contact with the historic past and with eternal reality, that you find in all of Canada’s wilderness….

The leader of our group is Sigurd F. Olson of Ely, Minnesota, president of the National Parks Association, a man who has the skill of a professional in the woods. Sig is known to us as The Bourgeois, because the voyageurs of furtrading days used that term for the company officials who accompanied and directed canoe parties. The word as we use it is historically inaccurate. The Bourgeois of old did no work at all. Our Bourgeois does more work than anyone else, including all the cooking. He also makes all decisions for the group— when we start and stop, where we camp, whether or not we risk a crossing of open water in a high wind or swell, 1 whether we portage or run a rapid….

We were certainly cold at night, and most of the time we were cold all day as well. When we got to Port Radium on the fifteenth day we learned that during our fortnight of travel, the highest recorded temperature had been 52 degrees Fahrenheit and the lowest 34. On the inland lakes where we were paddling it was probably warmer than that on the few fine days; it was certainly colder at night, for twice we woke to find ice on the rocks outside our tents.

We dressed as if for a ski trip—flannel shirts, sweaters, wind-proof jackets. Some brought long underwear, the rest of us bought it at Port Radium. Those who failed to bring warm gloves regretted the omission.

We are not a particularly fastidious lot. but we had trouble keeping clean enough to be comfortable. Bathing in ice water is no great feat when the air is warm and still, but when the air and the water are both below 40 degrees and a sharp breeze is blowing, nobody bathes for pleasure. These conditions were normal throughout the trip. The cold water is more than a mere discomfort, it’s a hazard, for no man can live in it for long. This thought made us more than usually cautious about shooting rapids.