York Factory with Nelson River Adventures

I have mentioned before how blessed I am to have the job I do, I get paid to tell people how beautiful my home province is every day. This summer I had an especially amazing time learning about a new company in Manitoba that is hoping to share one of most treasured sites with more of the world.

As you may have heard, Travel Manitoba contracted a blogger this summer to travel around Manitoba and share her experiences. Her name is Robyn (also known as @BCRobyn and she has been tweeting and blogging about her adventures, and we hung out quite a few times. One of the highlights she spoke of while in Manitoba was a trip she took out of Gillam to York Factory via jet boat, that I was somehow fortunate enough to get to join in on. Can't wait to be able to link to her post too!

Approximate location of the start of our adventure.

Clint Sawchuck is based out of Gillam and last year started up Nelson River Adventures, a jet boat tour company. He takes guests down the Nelson River via jetboat to a variety of locations, the highlight trip being of course, the trip to York Factory. .

Clint and his jet boat

Robyn and I flew Calm Air from Winnipeg to Thompson, then on to Gillam, arriving around 1030am. Clint met us at the airport with his truck and boat, and we headed out of town immediately. From Gillam you head north west over the dams on the Nelson River (which are a sight to see themselves) and out to the Keeyask site, about 45 minutes drive. Clint then takes about 30 minutes to set up the boat and Robyn and I had some time to explore the riverbank around the launch.

@BCRobyn

The magnificent Nelson River

Once we got in the boat, Clint did his safety talk, and off we went. The jetboat is quite loud, but has a rooftop cover and seats about 6. We traveled down the Nelson River towards Hudson Bay and immediately saw many eagles and other birds. The ride was mostly smooth and it was a beautiful sunny day.

We travelled about an hour before stopping at Gillam Island for a break. Clint tops up his fuel tanks with the gas he brings along in the boat and guests can hop out of the boat to explore a bit of the island. The island has a monument erected to Sir Thomas Button who over-wintered there in 1612. 

Across from Gillam Island is Seal Island who we found quickly was rightly named and 4-5 seals watched and teased us from the waters of the river.

Once refueled, we continued along the Nelson towards Hudson Bay, enjoying the magnificent views, seals, eagles and even a little black bear scrambling along the shoreline. 

About 5 minutes after the black bear, we saw two large polar bears swimming in the river. It was Robyn’s first time seeing a polar bear in the wild and quite the moment for her. Clint stops the boat many times along the route for photos, to point out interesting sights or to answer questions.

Around 30 minutes later the amazing Port Nelson came into view. I had no idea any of the history of Port Nelson and found this 100+ yr old abandoned Port quite fascinating. The rail line still leads out over the water, which seems to be slowly being absorbed back into the Nelson River and Hudson Bay. 

There are two ships in the vicinity that were abandoned along with the Port, one of which had been pushed up onto the pier by a storm over 40 years ago. Abandoned projects can be found all over the north and I find sites like these such a great reminder of not only how remote we were, but the impact we have on our environment.

Clint told us we had about another 45 minutes from Port Nelson to carry us out onto the Hudson Bay and south to the mouth of the Hayes River, and York Factory. I was ready to have my feet on solid ground at that point, and couldn`t wait to get there.

We arrived at York Factory around 2:30pm, and although we were excited to explore, we were also famished. Clint set up a gas BBQ and whipped up some delicious cheeseburgers and rhubarb pie in no time. Robyn and I were cautious of the possibility of polar bears and stayed close to the boat until after we had eaten and Clint strapped on the rifle to lead us around.

All that remains of York Factory is the main depot building and some other building ruins, so it is amazing to think that over 3,000 people lived there for over 250 years. Also very unfortunate is that due to cutbacks, Parks Canada no longer has any staff on site. Clint provided some brief interpretation while we walked around the buildings and once inside, but Robyn and I were quite happy to explore the depot on our own. 

Me and Robyn

The amount of artifacts on exhibit at York Factory is staggering. Parks Canada says there are more artifacts at York Factory than all the other national historic sites combined! Of course, many of these artifacts are things like nails (boxes full), cupboard brackets (an entire table was covered with them) and chain (an entire room was full of chains!). You could spend weeks in the depot, easily, thousands of things to see, touch, smell, read. I see now that York Factory really is the most important National Historic Site in Western Canada, everyone should go!

The tide on that part of the Hayes River is over 14 feet, and Clint was running out every 10 minutes to check on his boat. We knew that mother nature was our only time limitation, but she was starting to become impatient. I insisted on a quick hop over to the old cemetery for a quick look before we had to be on our way. We had been at the York Factory site for almost 3 hours, but it seemed like a brief tease.

I found the cemetery especially fascinating.

Clint`s jetboat breezed over less than 6 inches of water as we buzzed back over the bay and to the Nelson River. We stopped at another abandoned ship wreck pushed up on the beach, enjoyed a beautiful mom and 7 month old polar bear cub cooling off in the water and played with seals all the way back to Keeyask. All in all we were out on the water around 9 hours, and it was one of the most memorable experiences I’ve had at Travel Manitoba.

Clint lists the trip at a cost of $2,000 for up to 6 people to visit York Factory (8-10 hrs) in July and August only. He also lists various other trips including Port Nelson (6-8 hrs) and Kettle River (1-2 hrs). More details can be found on his website at http://nelsonriveradventures.com/

No matter how old you are, riding bikes with your friends is awesome

This past weekend a group of us (mostly from my paddling team) gathered ourselves together and headed west about 2 hours for a weekend of camping in Spruce Woods Provincial Park. Spruce Woods is home to the Spirit Sands, Manitoba’s only sand dune desert and home to the western hognose snake and prairie skink, Manitoba’s only lizard.

I headed out on Friday after work and we pulled in around 9pm. The crew had the smokies on the campfire, the beer on ice and the bugspray sprayed. All we had to do was set up our tent and move right in.  Oh and of course I was responsible for one thing: make bannock for everyone to wrap their roasted smokies in.

Secrets emerge in the security of a campfire

The sun went down and the glow of the campfire teased out our deepest secrets and best storytellers. A light drizzle sent us all to bed rather early, but you wouldn’t have known that by the sleepy faces that finally emerged at 8:30am the following day.

Bacon, eggs, coffee and more bannock, and then we were ready for our adventure. We came to this part of the province specifically for the awesome biking on the Epinette Creek Trail.

Always take a photo of the trail map

Apparently the trail has changed a bit in the past few years and I’d agree is tough and sandy in some places. Our group consisted of both experienced cyclists and new riders and we all (mostly) loved the 15 km loop to cabin 3, opting out of the longer 40km Newfoundland Trail in the +32C heat. 

Andrea and Kirsten pause for a photo

But of course this just wouldn't be a good story without a problem and a hero. Today's little misadventure included our friend Lori`s poor dog Barney who had his age catch up to him in the heat and terrain and laid down about 3km before the end. Conservation staff laughed and told us to ignore the “no car entry” signs to perform our own rescue mission. Thank goodness for a friend with a beautiful new truck, we got to experience a little backcountry off-roading and Rich got to save the day! 

Just a little distance from the campground is a small beach carved in to an eddy in the Assiniboine River. The current keeps the water cool and tons of kids can be found splashing away the afternoon in the water.

 Towels slung around our necks, we peddled back to camp after a must-needed ice cream pit stop. I couldn’t help but feel like I was a part of the coolest pre-teen bike gang ever founded.

Back to camp. Steak dinner. Wood ticks. Fire. Bug spray. We headed out to the lookout to watch the sunset and grabbed an awesome family photo. The night slid into laughs and was topped with a dramatic thunderstorm.

Before we left on Sunday we had to spend some time paying homage to the Spirit Sands. Only five of us were brave enough to head into the desert, armed with plenty of sunscreen and bottles of water. We saved the Devil’s Punchbowl for our next trip but enjoyed the breeze (and the view) from the top of the lookout tower.

A perfect sunny Sunday afternoon drove us home, back to the city, back to work. These weekends are making me long for the endless summer days of our childhood. So where to next?

Feeling Right: My weekend in a canoe

As much as I enjoy luxurious hotels or big, sexy cities, there is nothing that makes me happier than reconnecting with nature. Although sometimes nature feels otherwise about my affection for her, coming home to sleep outside is what feels right.

I am a Canoe Goddess

This weekend my way to feel right included three girls, one dog, endless lakes and a sense of adventure.

Saturday morning, after some brief introductions (and surprising Heather, who mistakenly thought we were camping in a campground) we hopped in my jeep and headed east. Our first destination was Caddy Lake, where we had rented a canoe and kayak, which would take us safely towards an as-of-yet-unknown camping spot.

After an orientation (for the dog as well as us), we discovered that two inexperienced people in a weighted boat travel very very slow. Quickly corrected by a little seating rearrangement, the girl party was finally on our merry way.

Seating arrangement #1, this didn't last long

We paddled deeper into Whiteshell Provincial Park, sunshine warming our shoulders and a slight headwind keeping us the perfect temperature. North across Caddy Lake about two miles to the first tunnel crossing and out on to South Cross Lake. I was quite unsure as to how Winnie the dog would handle the tunnel, although secretly very thankful the water had dropped signifcantly over the past week, giving us lots of room to clear the rock ceiling. I held my breath as half a dozen swallows darted around our heads and fat drops of condensation plopped into our boat.


Winnie wasn't so sure about this plan



The tunnels are caves built by the railroad construction as the trains opened up western Canada over 100 years ago. Train tracks for cargo and humans still criscross the country, connecting the east with the west. As we entered the cool tunnels, enjoying a momentary reprieve from the hot sun, a rumbling began deep inside the rock. The water was trembling (or was that Winnie?), the walls were shaking (maybe that was me). What was happening?? Of all the times for a train to pass overhead, it chose the exact moment a couple of very nice girls with a very nervous puppy (who just happens to hate trains) decided to pass through the earth's chest. Needless to say, Winnie didn`t speak to us for at least a half hour.

 

Another three miles and we found the entrance to North Cross Lake and our planned camping location. The second tunnel is much smaller and we could still see the rope left behind by previous boats who had to pull themselves back against the current. This crossing was much less eventful, and thank goodness, we were hungry and anxious to find our new home.

Second tunnel crossing

We quickly gave up on the provided map, discovering that not only were all the designated camping spots taken, there were random people camped in non-designated spots all over the lake. Heather spotted new home first, a sloping rock face on the east side of the lake. We found out quickly our home away from home is the ideal location for sunset dinners, protection from early sunrises and magnificent for swimming.

Does it get any better?

Regular fishing boats passed close to our home each day, making us wish we had fishing rods (and the ability to clean a fish). Either we had selected the best fishing spot on the lake, or word was going around the lake that three girls in bikinis were having daily dance parties. The fisherman reported lots of bites and one crew even showed us a beautiful black crappie they had caught that morning.



Wish you were here



Everyone on the lake except us and a bachelor-party-crew Simone and I met while exploring had come in via motorboat, giving us a bit of a sense of tough-girl fortitude, but also left me feeling conflicted between the need to get away from the sound of engines and feeling comforted by their connection to urban life.



Most beautiful weenie roast photo ever taken



We ate, we swam, we were attacked by bugs, it was perfection. We celebrated Canada Day paddling canoes, laughing with new friends and smelling like that magnificent blend of fire, sunblock and bugspray.





This is all right

 

Big thanks to Simone, Heather and Winnie the dog for a beautiful weekend of memories. Special shout-out to whatever bug got me that is currently causing a severe allergic reaction in my foot. Mother nature, I hope our love is mutual one day.

(ETA The photo that more accurately expresses aforementioned allergic reaction. Sorry)



Go canoeing, come home with club foot



 

Got Bannock? In Honour of The Village We Once Had

Living in an urban centre, a sense of community can be different for each person. Your neighbourhood, your peers, your friends, all play a part in making you feel like you belong. We create a sense of responsibility for each other that gives comfort, knowing that someone’s got your back. So how do you retain your sense of community? Especially in a marginalized city, split apart by divisions in class, separations of race. A city of “the haves” and “the have nots”.

Everyone knows that in a city at some point, you will be asked to help someone out. A guy on the street trying to bum a smoke, the lady swearing she just needs one more dollar to make her bus fare, teenagers asking for your spare change. So what do you do? Will your dollar make a difference? What if you needed that dollar because it was your last? It is so easy to not bother, but I would like to introduce you to someone who wanted to help, but couldn’t.

Althea Guiboche moved to the city of Winnipeg in 2012 after growing up in various locations around the province. Métis born and bred, she still has strong family ties to communities around Dauphin and Lake Manitoba. Her first months in Winnipeg were isolated and lonely, and she was finally forced out to reach out for assistance after a house flood left her in terrible living conditions and the media spotlight. However, she felt more and more like she was the one turned to for help. It seemed that everywhere she turned, there were people who needed money, food, assistance, hope, anything. 

 Being Indigenous in a marginalized city had been difficult for Althea. She felt disconnected from community and was frustrated that she was not able to find a way out of the cycle of poverty and isolation. Depression was an ongoing battle and this was a lonely time for her. Raising seven children on her own, and struggling to make ends meet, she felt helpless to make a difference to her new community.

It was January in Winnipeg, 2013. A long, cold, dark month of life in Manitoba. A time of year us prairie-folk are known for finding creative outlets for our energies: music, arts, cooking, theatre. Althea continued to work on her poetry, and is well accomplished in Canadian Indigenous artists’ circles. Her work has been published in various anthologies including Manitowapow: Aboriginal Writings from the Land of Water and Northern Writers Vol. 4. Her poetry flows gently over the land and its people, softly tugging at their stories while delivering a powerful message of living together in unity, in love, and in hate.

Aside from poetry, Althea was on a mission for a source of pride amongst Indigenous women everywhere. She was determined to make some damn good baked bannock. Fry bread was one thing, but the special touch it took to make perfect baked bannock is something that can bring any man, Indigenous or otherwise, to his knees.

That winter, she began to bake. And bake. And bake. Practice makes perfect, after all. She baked enough bannock to feed her kids, her friend’s kids, her friends, the birds, anyone who wanted it. Althea would bring bannock to potlucks and meetings. Even the mailman wasn’t safe from her fluffy, warm creations as she strove towards the perfect, golden treat.

In January though, even the poets and bakers still have to fill up their cars with gas, and Althea was at a north end Winnipeg gas station one evening. She and a girlfriend were approached by two men, asking for some money. Two men clearly not dressed appropriately for an evening of -35 degree celcius, kind of bitter cold. And Althea was saddened to know that the last $10 in her wallet was going into the tank of her car. As the men walked away slowly, she remembered the bannock and soup she had in her trunk, en route to a get together with friends, and offered it to the men. She wished the soup could have been warmer, but it was probably the best meal the men had had that week. She smiled and hoped they could find a place to warm it up.

A few weeks later, the Idle No More movement rocked the Manitoba legislative building. Over 500 people joined Buffy Sainte Marie in song and dance throughout lawn of the provincial government of Manitoba in the middle of winter. Althea speaks about this moment as only a poet can, describing wisps of sage smoke curling around dancers like the long grey hairs of Mother Earth. She was overwhelmed with the feelings of community, connectedness, togetherness she had been searching for for so long. That night she made a plan, and the next week was on the streets with 19 servings of chili and bannock.

The people who eat Althea’s food don’t have to be homeless. They don’t have to be Indigenous. They don’t have to be anything. She feeds people because it makes them feel good and it makes her feel good. She says if she had the money and resources she would do it every day.

Media coverage has been extensive, although unplanned. If it helps get the message out, she says, she’ll talk to anyone who wants to talk. After the provincial health inspector shut down Althea, now known as (The Bannock Lady)’s ability to serve hot soup, another local organization “Chili From The Heart” reached out to partner together. There just aren’t enough Bannock Lady’s in the world, and frankly, too many government departments.

Every Thursday at 1pm, a table pops up on the corner of Dufferin and Main street. A pot of chili arrives from Chili From the Heart, and some of the best bannock I’ve ever had courtesy of The Bannock Lady. A crew of half a dozen or so volunteers serves 300-400 people each week. A truck rolls up and man drops off a donation of clothing and bananas.

The crowd is all ages, from young families, teenagers, adults and seniors. White, black, red and yellow, these are neighbours having lunch together. Everyone is friendly and laughing, saying thanks for the tasty food and catching up on neighbourhood gossip. This is community.

In June, Althea was honoured for her inspirational leadership with the Oscar Lathlin Memorial Award. The late Minister Lathlin was well known for his recognition of the traditional role of women as being integral to healthy families and communities.

Pain in my what?

I have a wonderful, beautiful, friend named Stephanie. Stephanie and I work together, but have become friends over a shared love of being outside and staying active.

Our friendship started when we discovered that we both were members of the same gym and started hitting up some of the classes together. Then she invited me to her cabin in paradise, then I invited her to join my paddling team, that winter we chased her dad down the ski trails (man that guy is fast). We both agree that exercise is better when you have a friend to celebrate with.



Stephanie, doing what we do at her lake (sorry boys, she's engaged)

A few years ago, one of us heard about a little event going on that piqued our interest. They branded themselves as a "scenic cycle" and "pleasureable paddle" following one of the lovely rivers that flows through our fair city. "How bad could it be?" we thought.
Oh yeah. They called it the Pain in the ASSiniboine. Starting from The Forks you would bike 32 kms of road, river trail and paths to Beaudry Park, then get in a boat and paddle back to The Forks. Sounds fun right?

Nevermind the fact that I hadn't riden a bike in over two decades, no time like the present to get back on it. I added a few spin classes to my workout regime and pretty much just hoped for the best. It was 2010 and we finished 23 out of 34 teams. There were just over 70 racers and I am quite proud to say that I only cried once.



At the start line, 2010



Over the years we have finished 34th of 55 teams, 41st of 76 teams and this year we had a great bike ride and finished in 4:34:22 (yes that is over four and a half hours) and placed 47th of 86 teams! It has been so much fun watching this event grow over the past four years to over 250 racers. Every kind of adventurer is out on the course, ranging from elite athletes to the "oh god, please just let me make it through this". Each year we have been slowly inching our way closer to the former from the latter.



Start line, 2013



Our latest strategy for this involved bringing a small stereo for music and chowing down on brownies the whole way. We both have learned the lessons as to how to keep the body fueled over a 4-5 hour race.



Transition from the bike to the canoe, 2013



Next year, due to her upcoming nuptials, I might have to do it solo, but until we finish in the top half of this group I hope my gal Stephanie will keep me as her Pain in the Assiniboine.



Our reward at the finish line, 2013