We would come to know exactly what Bill meant. There are many other modern travellers of Low's routes whose exploits cause us to shake our heads in wonder and respect — Pat Lewtas, Dick Irwin, George Luste, Bob Davis, Hugh Stewart, Garrett and Alexandra Conover….28 What they all hold in common is their awe and admiration of A.P. Low's trips.
Neil MacDonald of Petawawa, Ontario, was passing through the lobby of the Labrador Inn in Goose Bay when a framed photograph caught his eye — a black and white shot showing a group of men dressed in anoraks, wool pants and mukluks, with a canoe and a sled and a partially frozen river in the background. Clearly this was not your average canoe trip. The photo struck Neil as “a scene of pure exploration as compelling as any modern shot of an astronaut on the moon.”29 The photograph was taken by A.P. Low in March 1894, when he and his party were trying to get an early start travelling up the Hamilton River. Inspired by this unique photograph, Neil set out in 1999 to retrace much of this route travelling by canoe and, in the winter, by snowshoe and sled. Neil writes:
while…we both carried our canoes on sleds…made multiple trips over the same ground, and relied on similar equipment, our experience serves mainly to highlight the difficulties of Low's. Our loads were …not nearly as heavy [Low's party hauled 300–400 pounds], our mileages were nowhere near as far…the sheer size of the territory covered by Low on this expedition would defy credulity if it were not described with such detail and authority. The standard of what was normal in his world of exploration eclipses any current standard of wilderness tripping…His example as a wilderness traveller, as a leader, and as a scientist all inspire respect; his accomplishments simply inspire humility and awe.”30
We think Neil says best what we, and others who have travelled in the footsteps of Low, feel.
All these people have followed the challenge of Low for adventure. Low, of course, travelled as part of his job. There are a few others who have gone to great lengths — thousands of miles — travelling in his footsteps as part of their jobs. Of these, two men stand out in particular: Murray Watts and Jacques Rousseau.
Murray Watts,31 a geologist and mining engineer, is best known for his adventurous prospecting trips in the far north of Quebec, across the largely treeless area of Ungava. He made seven trips there between 1931 and 1951, where, he said, “the only previous visitors were A.P. Low…and Robert Flaherty, who filmed ‘Nanook of the North.’”32 At the age of 22, he made a 1,200 mile (1,931 km) canoe journey from Moose Factory, at the southern end of James Bay. He travelled north up the coast of James Bay and Hudson Bay where Low had sailed and paddled a half-century before him. Even at that time, Watts said that Ungava was “…Canada's last frontier, the only real wilds we have left to us…”33
Jacques Rousseau (1905–70), a Quebec botanist and naturalist in the classical sense of the term, was an ardent admirer of Low, and followed several of his routes as part of his studies, including the one from Richmond Gulf to Fort Chimo. But he did what Jim and I can only dream of — in the early 1940s he hired Raphael Siméon, one of Low's guides, and learned first-hand of the stories of Low's trips. Rousseau recorded several statements of admiration as told to him by his aged companion — “There was no better guy than Low.”34
These people who have followed Low's routes are largely urban folk who have written about their trips. It is their writings that have led us to them. But the first travellers of these rivers, the Cree, Naskapi, Montagnais,35 and Inuit, knew them intimately long before Low set foot and paddle on them. In recent times, these Aboriginal people are “rediscovering” some of the ancient routes, the routes followed by their ancestors and by A.P. Low. Their stories are still not written down and are found only by speaking to their friends and descendents. The region is so well-known to the Aboriginals, that we have avoided using the term “explorer” for Low and others as most of them depended on Aboriginal guides and their route descriptions.
One of the most significant of the people pioneering the rediscovery of their own heritage was Charlie Brien. He was born “on the trapline” on May 12, 1936, in northern Quebec near the now-abandoned trading post of Nichicun. His father, Billy Brien, raised him “in the bush,” wise in the ways of life in the boreal forest. One hot summer day in July 1954, Charlie married Janie Neeposh. Together, they raised 13 children. Every winter Charlie hunted and trapped near Lake Nichicun and, in the summer, he always returned to the village of Mistissini. Charlie walked with a limp and, in the early 1960s, his “gimpy” leg forced him to remain there over the winter. He worked for the Hudson's Bay Company and while there learned about running a business. By the late 1960s, construction was booming in the village and, in 1968, Charlie opened his first business, hauling a sled loaded with coffee, doughnuts and sandwiches to construction sites. Shortly after that he opened the first Cree-run business in Mistissini, a restaurant which he simply called “Coffee Shop.” Charlie wanted his operation to do more than serve up good food. He envisioned a community meeting place where friends and family could gather for good food, good times and good conversation. He bought the first television set in Mistissini, and on Saturday nights the restaurant would be packed for the hockey game. His spot was also busy on nights when the CBC series “Adventures in Rainbow Country” was shown. This series, made in the early 1970s, featured a character named Pete Gawa, an Ojibwe teenager, played by Buckley Petawabano, a Cree from Mistissini. No wonder the restaurant was packed, as friends and relatives crowded in to watch “Pete” thwart jewel thieves, kidnappers, hijackers and even the devil himself! The restaurant, now called Denise Restaurant after his youngest daughter and operated by his two oldest daughters, still does a thriving business.
But Charlie never forgot his close ties to the land. Late in his life, he took an interest in canoeing and, in 1988, he took four teenage boys on a summer-long trip from Mistissini back to his traditional home near Nichicun. He wanted to help the Cree teenagers understand their heritage and their past. He believed that only by knowing where they came from, could they see their way clearly to the future. Each day, he would teach his young charges a new bush skill and tell stories about the past. He hoped the program would continue, and it has. Charlie passed away March 8, 2002. On our trip from the James Bay Highway to Waskaganish in 2003, we met a group of Cree teens travelling with an elder, paddling upstream on the Rupert River to the small town of Nemiscau. They are the legacy of Charlie's vision. He would be pleased.36
What is the siren call that keeps us coming back to this boreal land? Perhaps, both for us escapees from our urban lifestyles and for the Aboriginal Peoples who live here, it is the unchanged nature of the land and its beauty. The Europeans who travelled in this land in these early days, remarked on how the hard life led by the Aboriginal inhabitants seems to result in a people who were happy, strong, kind and wise in the ways of living. “Nothing could be more strenuous than freighting on the Rupert River, but it is…natural work, the very strenuousness of it is decidedly beneficial to his [the Cree canoemen] moral and physical well-being.”37 In his book, True North, Elliot Merrick recounts the words of an Eskimo trapper named Bert Blake, “…there's nothing for me like travellin' a new river, seein' the beeg heels close in behind and the bends open up ahead, breathin' cold sunshine and seein' new country every day…I wouldn't want to go and live away…”38
Perhaps a people who live with uncertainty staring them in the face each day — uncertainty about whether they could find enough food to survive the harsh winters — the uncertainties inherent in a life that involves long, arduous journeys through wild country, brings with it a kind of freedom that we have lost in our highly technological world. A freedom that we glimpse on our trip through this land. Despite the rain, despite the wind, the cold, the portages — every day brings a wonderful sense of accomplishment. Every day is spent in beauty. Every day we feel so close to the land, the weather; every task seems worth doing. Every day and every action has a consequence that we can feel or see right away.
Leading a life of uncertainty has led to great gifts for these people including a freedom to move, a deep understanding of the forces
