“It’s the only place in the world where I feel myself”

“I feel so at home here—like I know who I am and where I’m going”

What’s happening during a 3 ½ week program that is missing from their lives back home?

At home, young people can reinvent themselves several times in one day. The 13-year-old girl sitting at the breakfast table with her siblings is very different from the same 13-year-old girl seated with friends in the cafeteria. The 15-year-old boy visiting relatives at Thanksgiving is very different from the same 15-year-old boy in the locker room after football practice. Identity shifts occur often throughout a typical teenager’s day. From classrooms to the mall, the school bus to dance class, essay to Iphone, teenagers interact with a variety of people in a variety of settings, through an array of outlets every day. Parents, teachers, peers; home, school, subway; cell phone, laptop, skype—the variables are limitless. But more often than not, no one individual really has time to see or interact with the “whole” child and subsequently that child rarely ends up feeling known for who they truly are or want to be.

Providing the time and experiences during adolescence for your child to be known, understood and honored for their unique gifts is essential to their journey into adulthood.

At NWL, we have developed a series of programs to meet the specific needs of young people at different stages of maturity and development. In the context of a wilderness canoe trip, small groups of eight or ten teenagers along with their trip leaders travel through some of the most rugged and remote areas of northern Ontario and Quebec learning about the land, each other and most importantly about themselves.

Spending 20 days with a group of peers, facing the same challenges and moving towards the same ultimate goal is only a small piece of the journey. Once young people complete the initial work of learning the basic skills required for physically getting form point ‘A’ to point ‘B’ (paddling, portaging, setting up and taking down camp) they have TIME to begin the more important work of getting to know one another and being known.

Time. Now, there’s a concept. Rarely these days do young people have time to develop meaningful relationships with peers, mentors or elders in their busy, over-scheduled lives. The development and nurturing of relationships sometimes rely on brief text messages, one-hour classes or a family meal – a slow and at times unrewarding process. Having the time, support and environment to nurture, build and maintain relationships is a rarity indeed.

Similarly, teenagers seldom get the chance to work through conflict. Imagine a teenager without the ability to hang up on someone after a disagreement or slam a door when a relationship is challenged. On a canoe trip these avoidance techniques are simply not an option. Group members need to confront conflict and challenges head on in order to move forward with the journey. With the encouragement and support of both mentors and peers, individuals are given the tools they need to work through conflict, problem solve and most importantly, understand each other. They learn that part of being a member of a community is accepting the diversity within it. They learn that conflict and challenge can make both a group and an individual stronger and ultimately more successful.

The young people sharing a journey like this see each other in every light possible—exhausted after a long portage, relaxed and fulfilled watching the sunset, frustrated when things are not going their way, or full of adrenaline and giddy while jumping off a cliff into the crystal clear waters of a pristine lake. There is no option to retreat behind slammed doors or to ‘log off’ when the going gets tough.

At the end of a day on an NWL trip, groups will sit together around the fire sharing stories about the day or reflections from home. More information emerges for a ‘wholistic’ view of each member of the group. Puzzles are slowly put together—why one person has a difficult time dealing with conflict, why another uses humor to cover up their stress. These stories and insights allow each group member to be known. They are revealed for who they are and for who they want to be. And they are accepted. It is a freedom that many of them have longed to experience outside the home.

When trips return to basecamp, the results are very clear. Young people of all shapes and sizes hop out of their canoes gracefully and with confidence. Physically, they seem balanced in their bodies. Their faces beam with pride. Their smiles light up the beach. But the most rewarding part of their return is how they hold themselves within the larger community. Hearing their stories and watching them interact with peers, mentors, elders and family gives us an even greater sense of their journey and growth.

As experiential educators, we recognize that the need for each young person we work with to be known is key to the success of any program. With intentional programming that meets the developmental needs of the adolescent, Northwaters is an environment where elders, mentors and peers come together to understand the individual as a whole person. It is a place where young people are honored for their gifts, celebrated and understood.

Simply put, one of the reasons young people write comments like “this place is magic, it’s the only place on earth where I feel totally myself” is because they have been given the opportunity to be just that—totally themselves. They do not need to reinvent themselves because who they are is totally enough.

Returning home with this empowering sense of self has a strong impact on their lives and relationships. Challenges that may have seemed impossible before, become ‘just another portage’. A conflict with a sibling or parent becomes an opportunity to understand each other and make the relationship stronger. When young people face the world with confidence and a clear understanding of who they are, anything seems possible. When the world understands that young person and they feel known within it, the possibilities are limitless.

Parenting is the most difficult, most rewarding job we’ll ever have. The hours are grueling, the pay is lousy, the job description is infinite but the benefits are exquisite. Of course the conundrum of good parenting is that if we succeed at our jobs, we will ultimately have to let our prodigy go. Raising our happy, healthy family off the beaten path a full day’s drive from where I grew up, often leaves my dad wondering if he’s done his job too well.

Our job as parents is to provide for our children.

When your kids are wee, those needs are as instinctive as they are intuitive. Babes are so helpless, so dependent on us to meet their every need. In retrospect, the sleepless nights and hazy bubble of infancy seem pretty easy (milk, snuggles and a dry bottom solved almost anything back then). Even through early childhood it is clear to see what they need- more milk, more snuggles and a little bit of room to stretch their I CAN DO IT ALL BY MYSELF wings! Middle childhood is shaping up to be a repeat of those toddler years, I hope we can remember what we did right the first time around.

As our children enter adolescence, however, their needs become quite a bit more complicated and nuanced.

Not even they may know what they are asking for, so how can we interpret without misunderstanding? How can we provide and empower? Many of us can see that our children yearn for adventure. Even the most introspective child hungers for something to call her own. But how can you create room for her to fly, without being petrified that she can’t or won’t? Or perhaps even more frightening, that she will!?

Our job as parents is to challenge our children, so they might grow to be resilient; both strong and flexible. Often this is where we need help. There are so many important gifts we can’t actually GIVE our children; we can only guide them in what we believe is the right direction (sometimes by not being the guide at all).

Despite our current population density, modern families tend to be smaller and live in greater isolation. We no longer have an immediate inner network to draw from. The pool of trustworthy adults is often shallower, with fewer appropriate role models at our disposal.

Historically children have filled a purposeful niche in the home — to help around the farm, to help raise younger siblings… the family’s well-being had something directly to do with them. Our modern society has allowed for a lack of purpose. Today’s world feels like a “scarier” place, and we hesitate to let our kids struggle or have consequences. How many times have your parents or grandparents started a story with “when I grew up… (enter hardship here)”.

We naturally don’t want our children to face adversity but by doing too much for them, we are overshadowing and underestimating their capacity to grow. As a result we often try to fill that purposeful void with seemingly more inauthentic activities like screen-time and over scheduled lives.

Our job as parents is to foster independence.

One thing we can be certain about in life is change.  Change often brings with it fear of the unknown, but it is also an opportunity for growth, a celebration, and a rite of passage. Adolescence is a threshold we have all walked through, ripe with choice and mired by hormones. It is defined by risk taking and the need for acceptance. I remember looking so forward to adulthood but (with 40 years of perspective) can see that I lacked the tools, resiliency, and experience to navigate the murky waters in which all adolescents travel.

As a parent, part of our job is to know when our children are ready for these growth experiences. If we surround them with a village of caring, worthy adults, give them freedom and boundaries, love and acceptance, we will succeed in raising resilient young adults. We will be better able to translate their language, hear what they are asking for, and provide for them the opportunities to start to experience life on their own terms.

As a camp professional, part of my job is to help other parents find the appropriate growth experience to fit their child’s given stage of development. When our children tell us they are ready, when they ask for these chances, it will be clear that it is time to do what may perhaps seem counter intuitive… let them go.

“I just wanted to drop a quick note to say thanks to everyone for making Brendan’s Excalibur trip so wonderful.  He talked nonstop from the time I met him at the Airport till we pulled in the driveway at home 7 hours later (and then he started all over for his dad and brother)!  But what I have to say made everything really come to life for us were the wonderful pictures – both from the basecamp which were emailed to us at the beginning of the trip and the pictures on his camera.  Brendan is a pretty terrific kid but he came home from Langskib even better!  Thanks again to all at Langskib – Brendan can’t wait for next summer.”

Love, The C Clan (1^st year participant in our 2 week all boys’ program, age 12)

“Thank you soooo much for everything you have done for my little man and for me. Nate has had nothing but amazing things to say about his awesome adventure in the Temagami Wilderness, and it sure has been quite the experience for me too. He is so proud of himself for overcoming his fears and just letting Mother Nature take care of him, although I have to give you credit for doing such a great job as well.”

xo, Bree Ann. (1^st year participant in our 3.5 week all boys’ program, age 11)

“First a big THANK YOU to you all.  Meg had an amazing time and got everything we hoped for and more out of her time in Temagami.  Michael and I are very appreciative of the hard work, the integrity and the excellence of your program.  We are loving Meg’s stories, she has clearly found a new sense of herself and her potential.  She is very proud of herself!  She told me she spent a lot of time thinking on those portages. I know we have only heard the tip of the ice berg about where her thoughts led her, but what is showing up so far is that she knows she can do more than she thought she could, she can face difficult situations and find the lessons and she can have fun even when the going gets tough!  We now have a new phrase in our house for challenges “it’s just another portage”.”

Katy K (1^st year female participant in our 3.5 week co-ed program, age 16)

“Henry had the kind of experience with you that we hoped he would have … and much much more. Marshal and Laura seem to have been extraordinary leaders.  Henry was appreciative of many of the lessons they taught and/or modeled throughout the journey.  He loved the challenge, and understood the support that everyone needs from time to time. He was impressed by the level of teamwork necessary, and talked about the importance of being able to carry your load.

He came back confident, realizing the difference between spending one’s day doing things that “other people” think are important (i.e. school), and spending a meaningful day engaged in work that has a direct bearing on your survival in the short and long term.  He found a zen kind of focus there that he has a hard time finding in his city life.  We’ll be thinking this year about how to change his life in NYC to incorporate these spirit-sustaining discoveries.

Henry loved the intellectual life on the trail as well.  The conversations were often hilarious, but created perspective on basic things people don’t often talk about, like basic bodily functions, modesty, etc. Other conversations posed question about life, that we don’t often make time for. When we gave Henry back his cell phone, he found that it needed charging.  We noticed that he didn’t bother to charge it for a week.  Maybe he still hasn’t.   Instead, we continued the Northwaters conversations in the car.

Henry came back a new man.”

Ellie C- (Henry’s mom, first-year participant in co-ed Northwaters trip, age 14)

And now a few words from our returning participants…

“Wanted to share with you that he had the most wonderful, fabulous time. It’s life changing for him.  Thank you for all of your efforts. Max talks all about the guys leading it (Eric Miller and  Ryan Sablosky)and the entire experience. Blessings and deep gratitude.”

Susan M- (Max’s mom, a Langskib participant 2009-2011)

“Thank you again for all that you do – you guys have an amazing program and the boys and I are so grateful for it. It’s incredible to see what my boys have learned in the summers-I would say it is more like this thing that permeates their very being-I can see the strong and upright men that they are becoming. There are times when one or the other is struggling with something in life and I swear I can watch them gather themselves up again in a way that I never taught them to do- I can see them tap into this thing that soaked into their skin at camp.  I have even overheard them reminding each other of the challenges they overcame at Langskib. And so again, I thank you for all the work you are doing-this is so what our children and the children of the future need.”

Judith M (mom of Makima and Taeven, participants 2007-2011)

“Arik’s experiences with Langskib and Temagami have anchored his sense of self and given wings to his dreams and aspirations! I have such deep gratitude and respect for what this program nurtures and unfolds for these young people! It was a dream of mine, as well,that Arik be able to experience the sanctuary of the wild Temagami … it has served us both so well! Venturing North to see him come in from a trip … it has been the high-point of my summers!”

Lezlie D (Arik’s mom, participant 2006-2011)

Or… “Why Langskib is like Mongolia”, by alumni Dave Roberts.

It has been over thirty years since I lead my last trip from the dock at Langskib canoe camp for boys.  I was a camper on the first Temagami Trip the year Dave Knudsen bought Camp Windshift which became Langskib. I was one of the first leaders, I co-lead the first Dumoines River Trip. I lead CG on his very first canoe trip; he later became the best assistant I had the pleasure of working with.

A lot has happened since I left Langskib;  some good, some not as good. I moved to the West, I worked as a cowboy on several cattle ranches in Colorado, I lead elk and deer hunters on horse pack trips into the Rocky Mountains for 11 years, did many other jobs, lived in several places. I married, raised kids, divorced and ended up with a desk job shuffling paper. I soon plan on changing that desk job to something more exciting.

Last year, life was getting a little too slow and too domesticated, I was missing the adventures I had leading canoe trips, the traveling into the unknown, not knowing where camp will be until evening comes. I missed the nomadic life I lived as a cowboy. So I packed some belongings and traveled to Mongolia for three weeks. The people there still live the same as they did 800 years ago when Genghis Khaan ruled. They live in tents called Gers, they move their livestock with the season, packing all their worldly belongings onto ox drawn carts and live off the land. Mongolia is great, just what I was looking for, people with a nomadic spirit. The entire time I was in Mongolia I never felt alone, everywhere I went people treated me as a friend. I spent days galloping a horseback across the Mongolian Steepe with nomadic horseman, I stayed in their Gers, I learned their culture and shared experiences with them. I am learning their language and plan to return to Mongolia next year to visit with Mongol friends and other friends I have yet to meet.

Interesting enough, where I traveled in Mongolia is exactly the other side of the world from Langskib; same latitude as Langskib and exactly 180 degrees difference in longitude. I could not help to think back on the experiences at Langskib and the skill I learned. The canoe trips I lead were stepping stones for the adventures that followed. I was hired as a hunting guide and cowboy because of my skills I learned at Langskib, the ability to live in the wilderness. As Koonze, a cowboy friend, said “We are men that do not need to go home at night.” At the end of the day, home was where we camped, just as it was leading canoe trips. What was hardship to many was just another day on the trail for me.

Several years back I had the thrill of watching my daughter go out on her first Northern Lights Trip and several other trips in the following years. Stepping onto the dock at Langskib for the first time in thirty years brought back memories, seeing Northwaters for the first time show me how much the camp has grown since I worked there. And watching my own daughter return from canoe trips was an emotional experience beyond words for me, having my own daughter learn and experience the same things I did when I was her age.

Soon I will be up at Langskib and Northwaters for the Alumni Weekend. I hope to see old friends and share experiences with others who lead trips over the years.

Life itself is the journey, what an adventure!!

DR/

As the director of Northwaters and Langskib, I often receive queries from parents trying to figure out whether NWL is an American or a Canadian organization. Every other canoe camp I know is predominately one or the other.  One even claims to be “Canada’s Canoe Camp”. Given the recent Olympic events, this seems like a good time to set the record straight; NWL is both.

This is not the simple answer everyone is looking for. Alluding to my dual citizenship when crossing the border seems to virtually guarantee further questions from customs officials. People  prefer if you fit into a category, neatly please, without a whole lot of explanation. Check one box only, as it were. That’s not always possible.

Northwaters and Langskib enroll about 90% of their participants from the U.S. and Canada, the remaining 10% from foreign countries. Enrollment in individual programs and on individual trips can vary considerably.  I remember one trip whose 10 participants represented 6 different nationalities and spoke 7 languages.  Our staff, since they come from the ranks of participants, follow the same pattern, a bunch of Canadians, a bunch of Americans and the occasional international (Germany, France, Spain, Mexico, etc.)

Our organizational structure follows the same pattern – offices, bank accounts and business entities in both countries. Thus, Canadians and Americans pay in the currency of their country of residence and enjoy the simplicity of not having to concern themselves with wild swings in foreign exchange rates or credit card charges for foreign transactions. Moreover, their kids come away from a summer in Temagami with friends from places that would otherwise be just distant places on the world map.

Since 1971, a central tenet of every one of our programs has been tolerance; acceptance and appreciation of differences among people, whether they be racial, cultural, physical, spiritual, economic, you name it.  For many participants, our program is their first exposure to cultures different from their own.  We work hard to build community in our programs, to facilitate participants getting to know each other early on, so when the time comes to meet a challenge together on the trail, everybody works together.

When the beauty of a place takes my breath away, when I am filled with admiration, respect or love for another human, nationality is never a factor. When I take inventory of the people and places I know, love and respect, they span the U.S., Canada and more.  There were moments during Sunday’s hockey game when I was deeply proud of my citizenship in both countries. I was tempted to stop watching when the game tied in the last minute. I didn’t want either country to lose.

My son McKenzie, age 7, who also enjoys dual citizenship, asked me which country was my favorite. I responded “whichever I happen to be in at the time”. I hope McKenzie and his generation can continue to enjoy the blessings of both nations.

Well, it’s finally happened.  Winter is here, and my thoughts now begin to shift from rivers and giant pine trees to cross country skiing and hot chocolate.  I live in Toronto where winter really never completely sets in.  While there are people running around in minus 40 celsius rated down jackets and there is talk of storms of the century, its really not much compared with the rest of the county.  Even though here in Toronto we don’t really “do” winter, the same sentiments arise once the weather turns colder.  People slow down a little bit, nest a little and eat a little more.

One of my winter traditions is to thumb through my pictures of the past summer.  I look at them fondly and think about the long days and warm nights in Temagami.  This picture in particular brings back memories of this past summer. In June 2009 I stepped into a new role as Program Director at our Northwaters Basecamp.  Along with this amazing new challenge I was also planning a wedding, my wedding for the end of August.  Now, in honesty when I told my plans to my friends, family and fiancé I was faced with a healthy amount of disbelief.  How would I mange to plan a wedding from an island in the middle of lake Temagami while my husband to be worked in Toronto? What better place to plan a wedding and be inspired than in the Canadian wilderness… think of all the decorating ideas I’ll get!   And for my fiancé I added that distance makes the heart grow fonder, so our separation would actually be an advantage.  My optimism however, proved to be a little naïve as I began to realize the demands of wedding and program planning.

Luckily for me, a supportive community who readily offered their ideas and help whenever I needed it surrounded me at basecamp.  From asking for colour scheme advice, to the use of the Hobart industrial mixer for my wedding favours, Northwaters was always there to help.  NWL creates a community where each individual is celebrated for their unique gifts, allowing everyone to feel safe and valued.  I felt that about the community on my very first trip on the Makobe River and it is a feeling that is cultivated and nurtured every summer.

The shift from a trip leader to a program director has been an exciting one.  I was thrilled to be able to meet and know many participants instead of just a small group.  I was also blessed to be able to see participants before their adventure, and have a chance to speak with them when they returned.  The change has also been a nice dovetail into my work outside the summer season; I am set to complete my Masters in Teaching from the University of Toronto this coming April.   I have included my passion for experiential and outdoor education into my studies, and I will carry it on as a teacher when I graduate.

Even though this past summer was probably the busiest time of my life, I wouldn’t have changed a thing about it.  I thought about my wedding when I was in Temagami, and I thought of Temagami when I was at my wedding.  The pull that you feel from canoe tripping with Northwaters doesn’t end when you leave the island, but sometimes it ebbs during the cold winter months; so I hope that my attached picture brings a little bit of the summer to you wherever you are.

I can’t wait to see what next summer has in store for me, but it’s going to be hard to top portaging while wearing a wedding dress.

Thanks to everyone who helped

Teeth to the wind,

Christine McKenna

I remember being thirteen, standing on the dock at Langskib as darkness fell. There in the distance we saw the lights of torches appear. The paddle butts beating the dock echoed the beating of excited hearts. The Bay Trip! The boys who got out of those canoes were giants in my eyes. I knew that somehow what they had just done was big. And there was the way people talked about the Bay Trip with a certain deference and respect- it all took on a kind of legendary quality. If you had told me then that in two years time I would be paddling in in one of those torch-bearing canoes, I don’t know if I would have believed you.

The first Bay trip left the dock of Langskib in 1975 and was out about 46 days, traveling over the Kippawa watershed down the Harricana river and across the bay to Moosonee where they all arrived despite having lost one of their canoes and all its contents. This of course was in a time before such luxuries as nylon tents and poly-pro.

The trip is named for James Bay, the southernmost tip of the Arctic ocean, but there is a river to paddle before one gets there. The Harricana has its source in the Blouin, De Montigny, Lemoine and Mourier lakes, close to Val-d’Or, and flows down draining a basin of 29,300 km². Our trips put in now in the town of Amos, Quebec. From there it is about 370 km down to the bay. Poplars on clay banks give way to the evergreens of the boreal. The banks become rocky and the river narrows. Each day has something memorable, even legendary- from the abandoned gold mines at Joutel, to Nudebathing Falls, to Spring Gorge, to the Bridge Set, to the Sign-in cabin, to Stormy’s Gorge, to One Mile Island, to Pink Rock, and to Seven Mile Island where many trips encounter challenges, as the river rushes over raging waterfalls, through ferocious rapids, and breathtaking gorges. Below Seven, as it approaches the Bay, the river cuts deep eskers, the topography flattens and the vegetation thins.

Many of the perils are behind, but paddling the 60 kilometers of open water across to the mouth of the Moose river and up to the town of Moosonee is no small order. Besides the tides that need to be taken into account, there’s no telling what weather may blow across the open water within minutes. The tidal flats go out until the shoreline is barely visible and there are few options for camping along the way. Trips have seen Beluga whales, and swells up to 28 feet have been recorded at the mouth of the Moose.

Most of my memories from my first trip down this river to the Bay are blurry. I do remember aching arms and back from the long stretches of flat water paddling at the top of the river. I remember being humbled by the power of the waters. I remember coming to rapids that could not be paddled with no trail to walk around. I remember the endless horizon when we reached the bay, a place of only sky meeting water. And I remember having the space to look inside myself to see where I was and where I wanted to go.

Trying to push through the bush with a canoe on my shoulders, lines catching and branches scratching, the land felt wild and untraveled. However this route along the Harricana to the bay has been traversed for many years, first by the Algonquins. In 1670, the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC) was granted a charter by King Charles II, giving it a trading monopoly over the watershed of all rivers and streams flowing into Hudson Bay. But it was only 1801 Alexander MacKenzie mapped the entire route of the river for the first time and identified it by the name Harricanaw. In 1908, the first camps were established on its banks at the rapids. These were provisioning camps for the transcontinental railroad construction. A few years later, in 1910, the first colonists arrived and founded the town of Amos at the place where the railroad crosses the river.

When the route was traveled by those colonizers, they went up-stream bringing civilization into the wilderness. Now we are journeying in reverse, escaping civilization for the adventure of the wilderness. I believe as our lives get more and more “civilized”, there is something we are losing, something every young person hungers for. That something that cannot be learned in classroom or experienced through a video game. It can be found on the land, in the excitement of adventure, in the fear of uncertain outcome, and in the confrontation of one’s self, which can be so easy to avoid in a life with so many distractions.

I had the opportunity to go back to the Bay last summer, in a different capacity. Many of my memories from that first journey were blurred to the point that they had become much more story than experience, and that it was exciting to have their reality confirmed. Another memory that came last summer was the trust and faith I had had in my leaders; I knew that responsibility was something I now had to carry. It is a privilege and honor to be a part of such a journey, something I believe is so vital for a young person’s growth and development.