Itās hard to believe that only 3 weeks ago I was in Manitoba, fooling myself into thinking I was in the middle of a cross-continent solo bicycle trip. Now, Iām sitting on the sunny banks of the silty Yukon River, about to embark on a 500km canoe paddle into the arctic circle. Of course I am. Silly me.
On my way through Toronto I stayed with my dear, kind, compassionate friend Serin, who is also a badass wilderness woman. Her adventures had always been inspiring to me, yet always felt so out of reach. I had a million excuses for not embarking on adventures of my own - day jaunts, weekend trips, or epic excursions. I had no time, work was busy, I didnāt have a car, I didnāt have anyone to go with or I wanted to go alone, I felt afraid, I didnāt know how to do it. Yet here I was, bumbling my way on a bicycle across the country, wiping away those excuses with the sweat off my brow and proving to myself that I am capable of tackling new challenges with positivity and gumption.Ā
So when Serin told me she was going on a 17-day paddling trip on the Yukonās Wind River with her boyfriend Graham and their friend Julie, my mind surprised me with the immediate and genuine reaction of āWOW, I want to do THATā.Ā
It felt like watching stars aligning as Serin explained their 4th team member recently dropped out and they were scrambling to find a new paddle partner for the trip. They were also planning on driving from Whitehorse to Vancouver afterwards, to arrive on exactly the day I need to be there for my graduate program. There was a beautiful, spooky, sparkly, something in the air. As I boarded the train to Winnipeg to continue my bicycle ride, I joked that I would join if my knee couldnāt handle the highways in Manitoba.
I was only 25km west of Winnipeg when my knee refused to let me fulfill my romantic dream of gliding through the prairies under an ocean of sky, cutting across the jagged Rocky Mountains and coasting down the other side to the Pacific.Ā Even in my grief and disappointment, there was a sweet burst of excitement. I booked a flight to Whitehorse from my tent that night.
Since then Iāve made the radical, exciting, and nerve-wracking shift from the world of pedalling into the world of paddling. Like cycling, I felt I was diving into a world that was not my own; primarily male-dominated and likely requiring excellent gear and advanced skills toĀ āfit inā. Lucky for me, the amazing folks at Winnipegās Wilderness Supply Co* stepped in to help me break down this narrative, get oriented to canoeing, and connect me to other women paddlers in an Introductory Canoe Skills Course.
It was there I met theĀ ByWay Babes, 3 ambitious and driven ladies attempting to navigate across Canada in a canoe next summer. They believe that āthe best time to pick up new hobbies (such as cycling or canoeing) is when you are attempting to prepare for a personal quest of epic proportions.ā It was not only inspiring, but comforting to meet them in an introductory canoe course - a reminder that even big dreams start with small steps. Another young woman, whose family owns a large camping gear company, was learning to paddle for the first time in preparation for a long trip on the northern Nahinni River. We puttered around a lake all day, practicing strokes and learning techniques.
I may have begun that course feeling out of place and uncertain, but I left feeling supported, and propelled by the momentum of our collective learning.
Over the past few months I have met, learned of, or learned from a multitude of female role models in the outdoor adventure world. So, Iād like to raise a paddle and a pedal to women everywhere, who, in spite of the dominant narrative that often excludes women from these spaces, go outside, exploring and dancing with the mountains and the oceans and the rivers and the grasslands of this beautiful earth.Ā
* I am sooo grateful to the awesome folks at Wilderness Supply Co in Winnipeg. Check them out if you are in Winnipeg or Thunder Bay!
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