35 years ago a sophisticated suburban mother of four identified in her 2^nd born a need to escape the traditional.   It was clear that her stoic and resourceful boy was ready for a unique and identifying experience.  And so, at the age of 13, she sent him to Langskib.  To this day, she remembers with vivid clarity C.G. returning home from his summer in Temagami.  He was different she said.  Something had changed in him, this was very clear. Indeed, it was clear.  In addition to crossing a bridge he had chosen his life’s path.

C.G. has returned to Langskib every summer since then.  Beginning as a participant and soon becoming staff.  It wasn’t long before Dave Knudsen recognized his dependable nature, strong work ethic and impeccable craftsmanship.   He was hired on full time and began the long process of helping shape the organization and moving it forward.

When I first met C.G. he was devoted to his own personal growth and learning the skills required to manage people effectively.  Not much has changed.  He is dedicated to learning and his capacity for knowledge is overwhelming at times.  I’ve yet to meet another soul who can be simultaneously reading a book about small business organizational development, another on sustainable living, a Patrick O’Brien novel, Cycle World magazine and National Geographic. His quest for knowledge and curiosity combine with his diverse interests to make him an authentic ‘student of life, for life’.

Over the years his leadership has impacted more than an organization.  He has served as a mentor, surrogate father, friend and trusted colleague to generations of participants and staff.  During the off-season, it’s pretty rare for a week to go by without someone calling to ask C.G.’s advice.  Whether it’s someone looking for ideas on how to spend a year off, how to change a break caliper, frame a roof or how to face a particular conflict in their lives—he will make the time to help.

To me, C.G. embodies what Langskib and Northwaters represent: integrity, courage, community and the quest for excellence.

We put a great deal of value on symbols in this organization to recognize a passage from one place to another.  When I asked Bence (an infamous Excalibur Participant) what I should do to commemorate your 35 years here he suggested I commission a true to life statue of you for the cliff at Langskib.

While I agree, a statue would be great, I think it’s more important for you to hear these words and know they are true:  The community of staff sitting in this room are here because of important work that you have done.  The important work they do with young people on trail can happen because of your dedication to the philosophy of NWL and steadfast belief in the process.

As Caretaker of NWL , I know you will do what is right for this land and all those who walk upon it.  But I also know that as long as you breathe, you will uphold the core values of this place; the belief that simple living, hard work and risk changes lives.  Indeed, It changed yours 35 years ago and we are ALL truly thankful for that.

Summer Camp in the Winter!

New to the mill (and NWL) this winter is Jen Zahorchak.  Jen comes to us with many years of experience working with children and their families in camp settings throughout the US.  She and her husband Gregg moved back East from Oregon to work for Adirondack Camp in Lake George.  Recently, they purchased a home just a mile down the road from the mill.  Jen and Gregg come to us with much experience in outdoor adventure.  Each of their girls, Wren and Luna, have been on canoe trips in-utero and out, but Otis (4 months) is waiting for the spring thaw for his first out of belly adventure.  In addition to helping out with general administrative work, Jen is focusing her expertise on managing our website and online presence.  She’s the person to contact if you would like to contribute news, photos or stories to the blog or website – jen@northwaters.com

Once summer camp programs are finished and base camp is closed, (October 2 last year) our focus turns to planning for the coming season. In November, directors and senior staff spent 3 days with Rod Napier and Chris Cavalieri of The Napier Group. Chris and Rod, in addition to being our trusted advisers and experts on organizational development, are also able to represent the views of parents and grandparents of participants. Together we identified key program areas we could improve and ways in which we could make the end of session experience for parents even better. One exciting development is Waypoint, a one week program August 1-7, 2010 for parents.

Enrollment in Northwaters and Langskib regular sessions is more than 20% ahead of all previous records for this date. Don’t worry, we probably still have space for you, but keep in mind that if you are one of the folks that likes to wait until the last possible chance to enroll, you may find yourself out of luck. Enroll online or call 866-458-9974.

Outside of our regular canoe camp season, we have a full slate of school programs. Halton Waldorf School of Burlington, Ontario is sending classes in both June and September. The Sterling Hall School of Toronto and the Rudolph Steiner School of Anne Arbor are each sending classes for wilderness canoe adventures in September. We have formed a partnership with Alive Outdoors to provide a wilderness adventure program for the 10^th grade of the Greenwood school of Toronto in September as well.

The ice was late in arriving to Temagami and a number of our neighbors have been through the ice. Keewaydin Canoe Camp lost a snow machine but fortunately, Jason was uninjured. Unsafe conditions made it impossible for Claire and Eric Miller to reach Northwaters in mid January but they were able to get to Langskib for a very frosty visit.

A January thaw in Westport brought the Boquet River thundering over its banks. Big chunks of ice made it too scary to do much more than just think about paddling, but still, it was a great reminder that paddling season is just around the corner. Temperatures have returned to seasonal levels so it’s back to ski’s and ice skates.

We hope you are all getting out wherever you are and look forward to another great summer.

C.G. & Jodi

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.