A Short Trip, Father and Son

It’s an overcast, gloomy kind of day, standing at the shore ready to launch on other trek into the wilderness. I try to read the clouds above to feel out if any rain may be on the way and decide to keep my rain gear in the top of my canoe pack, I also tell my canoe partner to do the same, just in case. With the canoe packed, I double check everything is there and the gear is well balanced before I give one last good shove and hop aboard Joe (the canoe). Besides the small threat of rain its perfect paddling conditions for the nearly two hour paddle down the lake to the first portage. The wind is very light, even a little at our backs and this large lake, that can whip up into a frenzy is like a sheet of glass, uncommon for early afternoon. I thank the canoe gods for the conditions as today I have a new paddling companion, one that has never seen the remote wilderness that we are settling off to explore, camp and bond. The newcomer on this tripping experience is my youngest son, Gavin.

Now don’t get me wrong I love my sons both very much and equally, but for this trip only he was able to go and it’s been a long time planning just to get schedules lined up so this could happen and I look forward to the day when my oldest son can come along and join in this experience as well. This took a while to come together, not just because of my illness and all the treatments and appointments I have, but also because of what he has been through over the years. From ten years of painful orthodontic work, having both feet operated on back to back at the age of eighteen, which left him basically bed ridden for a full year during the recovery. Then there was Covid, in which he lost his last two years at high school which in my opinion are two of the most important years of your life. When you really start to learn key social skills and who you are, not only yourself , but in a social setting amongst peers and with that being taken away, many in this age group still struggle to figure out where they fit into todays world, outside the confines of a computer screen.

As we paddle down the ten kilometre stretch I sit in the stern content to listen to him talk about what he loves best movies, games and what we calls “fun facts”, basically random trivia. We make progress at a good rate and reach our portage quicker than expected, we carry our stuff three hundred metres and I hear no complaints about sore feet, something that is very common for the extremely complex surgery Gavin went through to fix the extreme flat feet he had. A quick puddle jump across an unnamed body of water and we are at our second portage and last one of the day, this one however it much more steep, rocky and with a ravine, potentially dangerous. The trail is dry though and we both make it with no issues, now it’s just the paddle to our destination lake. The paddle is quite and the loons call from around us, I think he’s in awe of the beauty of this place. I, myself as I watch him paddle in front of me am overcome with such a sense of joy he is here with me experiencing this for the first time moves me to tears, I’m so happy in just this moment, so simple, pure and beautiful (cancer has made me a softy when it comes to that). We find a great site just big enough for the two for us, it’s elevated and overlooks the entire lake, I show him the ritual of getting camp ready from setting up shelter, gathering wood and filtering water and he’s very keen to learn. After a dinner of smoked chops and rice we have about an hours worth of sun left to go do a little fishing and check out a small waterfall, he takes audio of the falls. Maybe to fall asleep to or perhaps incorporate into one of the games he is designing . It get dark quickly and with the campfire dwindling and the long first day behind us we head of to bed for some much needed sleep, this will be one of those days that I will carry with me forever, perfect!

Much of the time we spend out there is hiking to viewpoints, fishing together in the canoe, checking out and swimming in larger waterfalls and showing him basic backcountry skills, being a father. Listening to my son talk to me about some of his hopes and dreams, without a phone, T.V. or computer running in the background is so refreshing, so pure, how we should always communicate with each other. Honest and true talk, Father to son and man to man, like a lost art and an important element to form that bond and relationship, so as the years slip by that bond with my sons remain not only strong, but trusting, honest and loyal. I still find myself looking back in time at the amount of time spent at work, working on the house and yard, doing those things I thought were necessary unaware of all that time slipping away, grasping at memories when they were just my babies am I ever glad there’s a lot of pictures. I do truly miss those days when they would reach for my hand or sit on my shoulders, but in a strange way they still do in different contexts. A hand to fill out important forms, needing rides (although annoying) and just plain old advice, their hands are extended and mine(ours) will always be there to grab hold. I’m by far not the perfect husband or Dad out there, but if Cancer has taught me anything it’s to always try and improve, I stumble (a lot), but I will never give up an always be there.

The last day of our trip is bittersweet, while it’s nice to get home the simplicity of those four days spent out there together showed us both what really is important, TIME, time spent together with no distractions, able to sit and stare over a beautiful lake after a hike to get there and just be present in that moment, take in that site and remember the journey that got us there. As we near the access point to leave my son says something that’s music to my ears, “I had a really good time Dad, when can we do this again?” I smile again now as I write this and it goes into my personal journal of those time you never want to forget. My answer is very simple, “Anytime”

If you like what you read please consider subscribing, like, vote and leave me a comment. I have video of some of the trip and will post it on my YouTube channel, which is slowly getting underway. Cheers, Steve