Dazed but Not Confused by Kevin Callan

Author:Kevin Callan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn Press
Published: 2012-12-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

Searching for Solitude

Thankfully I wasn’t going top speed when the bolts of my front truck wheel came off, and thankfully I heard the clunking noise of the loose tire in enough time to pull off to the side of the busy highway. The only thing I’m not thankful for is that the teenagers, the ones who thought it was cool to loosen the tire bolts on a stranger’s vehicle under the cover of darkness, didn’t think about the consequences of their actions, even after they were caught and convicted.

They were ratted out by a friend after another victim was seriously injured (three other vehicles were violated on the street that night). They never did fulfill their entire punishment in juvenile detention, and were back pulling pranks again in less than two months. The police’s response to all the victims was that we just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were right. I got out of town and went somewhere safe — I went canoeing in Quetico.

The route I chose this time, for obvious reasons, was a remote part of the park, a six-day loop to the Wawiag River system. Disappointingly, however, I had to begin the trip on one of the busiest lakes in the park — Saganaga Lake. This body of water is situated in the southeast corner of Quetico, and is in no way isolated from the social woes of our modern world. It’s busy with motor boats, lodges, and frantic canoeists racing across to reach more out-of-the-way places.

Don’t get me wrong — it’s still a scenic spot. But paddling across Saganaga Lake can be depressing, especially if you’ve happened to read Sigurd Olson’s essay, “Farewell to Saganaga.” It tells the story of how he revisits his favourite wilderness lake, only to discover it has been plagued by development. His story reveals the struggle between the goodness one can still find in human companionship and the evils of modernization (which I guess eventually lead to problem teenagers pulling stupid pranks on vehicles).

As Olson did, I escaped the busyness of Saganaga by heading north toward Cache Bay. I must confess, however, I took the water taxi. Olson would definitely not have approved of my choice of transport. But, in my opinion, the damage of encroachment is already done here, and the shuttle made an all-day paddle across a large and somewhat urbanized lake into a twenty-minute boat ride. The quicker I got across Saganaga Lake the better.

After being dropped off by the boat shuttle at Hook Island (they can’t go any farther), I paddled over to the ranger station to pick up my permit. Then I camped my first night just north of there, on a small rock outcrop. It wasn’t even a designated site, just enough space back in the bush to pitch my tent on, and a nice slab of granite along the shoreline to sit on and watch the sunset.

From Cache Bay, the route heads to Saganagons Lake, with

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