Into the Woods

Life has been busy at Mashkodens, and we´re only a few days away from the start of the Ricing Moon.

After repairing and improving the main group shelters in Mashkodens, I took some time for several canoe trips to explore more of the numerous waterways in our area. We´re located right on a major watershed divide – some waters flow north and east into Lake Michian and Lake Superior and ultimately into the Atlantic, other lakes and rivers empty into the tributaries of the Mississipi which empties into the Gulf of Mexico. For the Native people of this area, travelling the waterways by canoe was usually the fastest and most efficient way to move over long distances during the Green Season, especially when it involved moving cargo.

Preparing jerky for a trip

On one of those trips which lasted for almost half a Moon, I took a limited supply of jerky and fat with me and supplied the rest with foraging and fishing (and loosing a few pounds in the process too 😉  ).

The diversity makes this area particularily interesting for paddling: On the major rivers and lakes, paddling is easy and straightforward, and on some of the more populated waters the biggest challenge may be manouvering around speedboats… The smaller sidestreams and creeks can be thickly overgrown with alder – so thick indeed that following them involved more climbing or portaging than paddling.

A shallow, spring-fed creek...clear and cold water

A "creek" past a large beaver dam. Easy paddling. The dead standing trees indicate the flooded area after the dam was built

There are usually open sections along meadows too, and beaver dams tend to make paddling easier, since they raise the water level. In some cases this makes it possible to get to areas that would otherwise inaccessible because the water level would be too low.

Some creeks are clear and cold – ideal habitat for brook trout – whereas others are more tea-colored and warmer, which is caused by tannic acid released by bogs and other vegetation.

An abundance of wildlife sign can be found around here – muskrat, beaver, otter, deer, black bear, to name a few, plus a variety of species of waterfowl, birds and fish.

Plenty to be seen and explored indeed…

On another note – as the name “Raspberry Moon” indicates – the berry season is progressing. Blackberries and cherries areripening fast, and I frequently come across bear feeding sign in one of the many berry patches that tells me that they´re busy with putting on fat for the winter.

Allison joined us for close to half a Moon, and her presence and (female) energy was a great contribution to our clan.

Chris, Allison and Alex busy with preparing dinner. Fish and fat is roasting by the flames...yum!

During her stay, we set up a winter firewood camp in the same area where we went for sucker fishing in the late spring. The supply of hardwoods like oak or maple is fairly limited around Mashkodens, and we only burn hardwood in our winter lodge hearth – for several reasons: It hardly sparks compared to conifers (which can be dangerous with an open fire inside a lodge – there is a lot of dry, burnable material around), it burns hot and long and the coals last for quite a while after the fire has died down which maintains more heat in the lodge throughout the night.

We also organized a thanksgiving feast for everyone at Nad´mad´ewining (the support center) for their continous support – without them, it wouldn´t be possible to have an immersion-style experience like this…

A few days ago some visitors came into our camp, admiring all the different shelters and crafts. We reminded them that while those are an important aspect of our life here, there is a lot of “invisible” work going on. I thought it may be good to mention these here too since it’s easy to write about crafts and skills – writing about the “qualitative” aspects is a different story. Much of that needs to be experienced firsthand in order to be truly understood.

In fact, the majority of our energy goes into these qualitative skills – building relationships with our human and nonhuman circle, listening to our dreams and inner guiding voices, healing the wounds and trauma we carry within us from a lifetime of separation… And really discovering who we are as people and how we can develop the unique gift we bring with us for the benefit of not just ourselves or our closest human relations, but for the benefit of all the relations and the generations to come.

Thomas

It was spring – the maple sap was just beginning to flow and the white blanket of snow had disappeared from the ground. I had done some research about the styles of skin boats used by various Native peoples in the northern hemisphere and consulted a few people who knew a thing or two about that subject. I decided to construct a small canoe that would be ideal for exploring the small creeks and streams of this area, similar to the solo canoes made of fiberglass that my campmates and I use. Consequently, the dimensions are fairly similar, with a length of about 10 feet and the widest part being about two and a half feet wide (I can´t provide exact measurements since we don´t have any measuring devices at camp).

The frame was to consist of seven long saplings forming the sides and bottom of the canoe, with the keel/bottom pole connecting all the other poles at either end of the canoe. Hardwoods twist less when they´re drying than softwoods, and since I was looking for straight, flexible and preferrably light materials my choice of wood was limited to a few species…so let´s continue to

Part I: Assembly

On a fine cold spring morning, I ventured out by canoe to harvest the frame materials: I selected a dozen straight maple saplings for the main frame and about six dozen hazelnut shoots for the rib pieces. The first task was now to peel the bark off all the gathered materials for more rot resistance. Over the next days I slowly assembled the main frame, inserting wooden spreaders and support poles where necessary in order to give the canoe its intended shape. I ended up carving down and flattening most of the frame saplings and all of the rib pieces to achieve more evenly bend, and since the materials were green, no steaming or other treatment was necessary.

The first saplings are tied together

The main frame is in place, with some supports tied in to shape the canoe

Lashing the rib pieces to the frame required a fair amount of rawhide, since each of the 60+ ribs was tied to seven frame saplings, with the rawhide being streched as much as possible prior to tying it off to prevent loose lashings. In order to more securely lock the individual ribs in place, I wrapped rawhide along three of the frame saplings, connecting each rib to the neighboring ones. Still, the lashings allow for a little bit of movement and flexibility, which makes the canoe more shock-resistant. Say you´re bumping against a rock: The impact gets dispersed throughout the frame rather than being focused on the point of impact (which might cause a break) as is the case with e.g. nailed frames.

The first rib pieces are lashed in place

The raw frame was now finished, and I applied several coats of oil & a little bit of pitch in order to preserve the wood and make the rawhide lashings more water-resistant. Besides its preserving qualities, the pitch also helps to keep rodents and other animals from chewing on the frame to get at the fat…

The finished frame

Now came the skin cover. Ideally one large hide would suffice to cover the frame – no sewing required, and besides that, every seam is a potential weak spot too. With no such hides being available to me at that point, I pieced several smaller hides together – one small buffalo hide and four deer hides proved to be sufficient.

Skins draped over loosely before sewing them together

In my research about skin boats I came across a waterproof stich that several Inuit tribes used for their kayaks and umiaks. It´s a rather time-consuming affair since the stiches do not go through the entire hide, but instead enter and exit from the same side.

Detail view of waterproof stich consisting of two parallel seams

Once the cover was finished, I folded it over the sides of the canoe and started cutting one side to match the shape of the canoe. The cut side was now ready to be lashed to the frame, and after a few ties were in place (starting in the center of the canoe) I repeated the same process on the other side. I was working my way towards the front and back of the canoe on either side, making sure the skin cover had no wrinkles and was tight (but not too tight as the rawhide shrinks and tightens on its own as it dries).

Skin cover being attached to one side of the frame, with a lashing between each rib

With the skins on but still wet I decided to go for a test ride, and after stiching up a minor hole, there was almost no leaking. Since it was a hot and sunny day it didn´t take long for the skin cover to fully dry – time for the last step, the oiling & pitching of the canoe.

With the hides just put on and still wet, the canoe is ready for the first test...

...and is shown here after being dried and oiled.

Et voila – canoe finished! Or so I thought…which brings me to

Part II: Lessons

The cover was dry alright, but the shrinking action had opened up the seams too which meant the seams weren´t really waterproof anymore. What I realized then was that Inuit people usually pre-soak their boats prior to using them – this way the hide swells up around the seam and allows for no more water to come through. I decided to try another approach – pitching the seams similar to how it is done on birchbark canoes. Adding some powdered charcoal to melted pitch to help it set & harden, I covered the seams on both the inside and outside of the canoe with the mix.

Pitched seam on the inside of the canoe

As for the cover itself, it turned out that my first application of oil and pitch was leaning a little heavy on the pitch side – it kept being sticky even ater drying and therefore quickly adhere to anything it was touching -leaves, grasses, sticks…Scraping off the excess pitch and re-oiling the frame (with less pitch) seemed to remedy that.

Now…ready for the maiden voyage. There was some minor leakage and the sides of the canoe were a little lower than I had originally intended as the frame was warping somewhat during the drying process. Other than that, it seemed to work pretty well and it proved to be stable even on a windy lake. On another test ride, a stick protuding from a submerged tree trunk scraped along the bottom and got hung up at the seam, causing some leakage. Tamarack offered a practical suggestion for this particular issue – adding a keel pole to the bottom of the canoe, to protect the skin cover and seams from scraping on objects. And I can say, after going up and down creeks, through alder thickets and over beaver dams, that the keel pole truly works!

Keel pole on the upturned canoe

Something else I discovered on a longer canoe trip was that the skins do eventually absorb water (through prolonged rain or just being in the water, which, by the way, doesn´t mean that it´s leaking). And when this happens, the canoe gets a lot heavier – so heavy indeed that portaging become a lot more labor-intensive. I haven´t been able to find a way around that yet – maybe that´s just the way with skin boats (unless you use a modern varnish)…

A large gap along the seam...

Some lessons come the hard way, such as when I was re-pitching the seams after the aforementioned canoe trip. The next day I discovered that there were a number of holes along the seams. How cou that be, after just pitching it, and no prior holes? Closer examination left no doubt about it – the last application of pitch was so hot that it had melted through the hides! The lesson here seems obvious – make sure that the pitch has cooled down enough so it won´t damage the skin cover. I now test the pitch with my inger to make sure it´s not too hot. After weighing my options, I ended up cutting out the affected parts which gave me the oportunity to practice patching the boat.

...and the hole sewn up, prior to re-pitching.

Now, after having elaborated on all the “hang-ups”, I´d like to add that the skin boat is indeed a great pleasure to paddle…there´s a sense of connection and satisfaction that is unique to something crafted by one´s hands and the materials nature provides…

Resources

Feel free to contact me if you have any questions about the process, the canoe or anything related (just leave a comment and I´ll eventually get it, though it may take a while). I´d like to thank all the people who´ve been providing valuable information and suggestions, particularily Tamarack Song. Some books and websites were also particularily helpful, some of which I´m listing here for those who want to do more research about the subject:

– Skin Boats and Bark Canoes by E.T. Adney and H.I. Chappelle

– The Aleutian Kayak by Wolfgang Brinck

– http://www.bushcraft.ridgeonnet.com/building%20a%20canoe.htm

The joys of paddling...

Hot & long days, occasional thunderstorms and a booming moskito population: We´re in the middle of the Green Season. During this Moon phase, the major berries of our area – blueberries and raspberries are ripening, and the local Natives oftentimes called this the Blueberry Moon since those small delicious berries harvested and dried in quantity for the coming winter. So far most of the berries are still green though…

As of late our clan has been focusing on repairing the major group structures of our camp – the summer arbour and the lean-to. Some of the horizontal poles that were supporting the roof of the summer arbour started sagging, and some of the vertical support poles were on the thin side, so we started out with replacing those. Some engineering effort was necessary as we replaced individual poles while leaving the roof intact (we moved the peat away from the roof section we were working at so there was less weight on the poles). The roof was also leaking in some areas, so we added a new layer of birch bark and added more peat on top of it. The peat helps to cover and weight down the bark so it doesn´t curl up in the heat, and it also helps to soak water.

Close-up of the summer arbour. The forked upright post supports the horizontal beams which hold the roof (the wedges fill out the space in between)

Alex and Chris add peat on top of the new birch bark

Speaking of peat -in order to create a solid, thick cover on the roof, we needed to dig upmore peat in a nearby bog. Picture yourself being in the water up to your belly, pulling at roots and chunks of peat while moskitoes and blackflies are looking for opportunities to feast on blood…

All of this group work has brought us closer together as a circle, and I really appreciate getting to know my campmates on a deeper level. Joy and challenges, reactions and empathy and support – it´s all there. Something else that has been very helpful in this process is sharing our Dreams. Every morning – usually around breakfast time – we get together for Dreamsharing, and provide each other with mirroring and feedback whenever it is necessary in order for us to flesh out the messages that our Dreams provide.

The summer arbour roof provides a nice vista of the pond...

Prior to the fire, I was just getting ready to head out on a canoe trip the skin boat was finished and ready to be tested, and I was working on some finetuning of other travel equipment. (I´ll cover the skin canoe and its construction in a separate post). During our sharings and reflections anbout the event and how to proceed from there, we came to the shared awareness that besides taking care of our immediate needs now, it was also necessary for us to continue following our passions. After our ceremony and material re-supplying, it was time for me to follow through on my trip…

Sometimes the creek was rather narrow...

I wanted to mainly explore parts of creek and river systems that I hadn´t checked out before, so I decided to take some renderedt and jerky along and supplement it with whatever I would fish and gather along the way. Fishing turned out to be poor, instead I got by with greens, insects and berries. The first three suns were quite rainy and so I got to really test and appreciate the raingear I had recently finished, which kept my upper body dry (though everything else was wet 😉 ).

Zagame (Moskito) and deerflies were pretty much constant companions, and when I wasn´t moving on foot or canoe the best way to keep them at bay was to build a fire.

Sometimes I observed rather comical events such as when I observed a beaver swimming around a curve in a creek and a duck approaching from the other side. As they made eye contact, they stared at each other for a couple seconds while drifting closer, and then simultaneously took off in their own ways – the duck flying away while quacking, the beaver splashing the water with his tail and diving away. Not sure who spooked whom first 🙂

Despite some minor leakage, the skin boat was holding up quite well and was going smoothly. One major disadnvantage (compared to fiberglass canoes of similar build) was the weight: After being in the water for a while or exposed to rain, the skins started swelling up and the weight increased tremendously. On portage trips it was necessary for me to carry the canoe and the equipment separately, whereas I´m usually able to carry everything in one trip.

A typical river scene as seen from the canoe

All in all, a very enjoyable trip, I enjoyed the continous exercise as well as the time for quiet contemplation and observation. After exploring all day for a Quarter Moon, it felt great to have the company of my campmates again and the amenities of a well-equipped basecamp. To be continued on other trips…

This past Moon cycle marked the beginning of the berry season, with the tiny yet delicious strawberry being the first to ripen – a sweet taste of the abundance to come…

Much has happened during that time. The fire at Mashkodens has been a big lesson for all of us, and since Alex described it so eloquently in his post I´ll just add a few more personal things here.

The fire itself happened so quickly that my memories seem somewhat unreal, like I just saw it in a movie. There are lessons to be learned about how to deal/not to deal with a fire like this, at the same time I know we all did our best in the sitaution, and I´m grateful that this lesson came without anyone being seriously injured or the fire spreading much farther.

I found our process of working with the situation to be very powerful: We all got together and shared our raw feelings, to fully express what was there, before moving into the question: How did I/we contribute to this situation? We had a deep sharing of observations – some of which we may have had but didn´t express before. What is it that keeps us from truly being present and fully engaged within our circle? In a way I see it was a much needed wake-up call for getting out of our comfortable ruts and routines that don´t really serve us. And ultimately this helps us really coming together as a group and exploring our full potential…

…and letting go is part of that. The ceremony of letting go was a very personal and powerful experience – each one of us connected with something else that they wanted to let go of, empowered by a symbolic gift to the flames. For myself, it was about letting go of my attachments and expectations about how things should be so I can truly see what is there and grow into the person that I already am inside rather than what my ego thinks I should be.

After the fire...

For the time being, we decided to let the burnsite rest and the plants and animals return before moving into any (re-)construction. Our clan of four conveniently fits into the earth lodge, so there is no immediate need for building more structure.

With this coming Moon cycle, we´ll be working on improving the existing group structures – waterproofing the summer arbour and getting the lean-to ready for winter so we have a smoothly functioning camp that provides a comfortable environment for long-term living.