Blog #6 Uapishka
We made it through Uapishka!
Uapishka… the journey we excitedly planned for since the beginning of the semester. After our short stay at Heartbeet we drove through Quebec City and continued north until we reached the home of Jacques, a long time friend of Kroka who has been living in the mountains since the 1980’s. We set up our camp near his beautiful log cabin, and we were off early the next morning for our 26-day journey into the mountains.
Our journey began as we climbed up a steep frozen creek bed. The amount of food needed for 15 people for such a long expedition required two sleds, pulled most stoically by Bobby and Grace Jessiman. These first few days physically taxed us more than any other time. When we finally made it to Lac Magique, where we had our first live-over, many of us were beat beyond belief. We had made an elevation gain of 1,700ft in just two days. On our live-over we had time to learn about this land reigned by spruce, whose spiky boughs would become our carpet and whose wood became fuel for our stove. Above the spruce we found windswept peaks bordering perfect powder skiing bowls.
After Lac Magique, we pointed our skis east and headed toward Mont Lucie, with blue skies above. In the dazzling winter sunshine, we took a break from our packs and followed Misha as he glided ahead of us to the top of a slope. Then he turned to us and said “like this” before gracefully telemark skiing back down. Soon a hoard of semester students careened down the slope. It was incredibly fun to soak up the warmth of the sun on our cheeks and be free, for a moment, from our packs.
When we broke camp the next morning we knew we would have a hard day ahead of us, traveling 11k across a treeless plateau. When we arrived to the top of the plateau we met whiteout conditions. It was hard to tell where we were, or what the contours of the land were actually like, because everything was grey-white: above, below, and all around. What seemed like a flat stretch could have a steep slope in the middle. We were happy to have our competent navigator, River, who led us down safely from the plateau to our Mont Lucie camp.
The next day we summited the 3,500ft mountain and were caught in whiteout conditions again, experiencing ripping winds and a lunar landscape. It was quite the experience straining our eyes to try peering through the swirling white, and in the end we could only see the outlines of nearby rocks and each other through the thick and beating snow.
Back down at camp, our canvas tent became a cozy classroom for studying The Endurance, listening to wilderness medical lectures, reviewing weather patterns, and learning about poetry. Here is one of the poems we wrote:
“Lost and cold we eat our snack
Skiing fine until the smack
My face comes up with a beard of snow
One that Wahanik could only hope to grow.”
After a couple of days at Mont Lucie we pointed our skis back west and toward the next section of our journey: Mont Jauffret. Through notches and plateaus, over windy lakes and protected ponds, we kicked and glided our skis, ever perfecting navigation and camp set up, until at last we reached Mont Jauffret, and awoke to another sapphire blue sky.
“You have 15 minutes to meet at our trail, bring water bottle, and journal,” instructors announced. We were caught by surprise as the girls were in the tent mid-wash and the boys were out collecting firewood. It was a mad dash to prepare ourselves for the spontaneous day out, but we did so excitedly. When we made it to the trail we moved as quickly as we could to beat the clouds rolling in from the horizon. As we climbed up the side of the 3,494ft peak we watched the world behind us expand. Once at the peak we could see all the places we had gone, along with the corner of the giant Manicougan crater. It was so captivating to have a bird’s eye view of the land we traveled through. From there we were sent in groups of three back down to camp. The slopes were the perfect condition for telemarking skiing and the windswept slopes made perfect berms for catching some air. This was our commencement for group solos.
The next afternoon we were sent out for our first group overnight where we constructed snow caves in the side of a hill and slept surprisingly warm. Later, we all reflected that one of the most simple and yet incredibly beautiful experiences we had was watching the warm glow of the candlelight bouncing of the sparkling snow. Directly after morning meeting we left on our second small group solo that would consist of two groups: the boys and the girls.
It was really fun seeing how we could rely on each other and work as a team to get camp set up, and even with that we still had our serious set backs. For the girls it was a tent that was so frozen from melted snow that we had to stuff it into a backpack and strap the excess to the outside of the bag. For the boys it was managing cooking and melting water on a much smaller stove. Something we learned was how much we need each other in order to efficiently and enjoyably live in this landscape. We met back with our instructors the next day to complete our academic work and prepare to return from the mountains.
Two days later we had a whole group solo back to our starting point at Jacques cabin. We were in high spirits and set out singing with exuberance. We slowly climbed into the last plateau as we did so the sky began to clear and rifts of blue popped through the seams of the overcast sky.
“Our last climb up a mountain,” River wistfully said as we peered up the steep slope. “Should we go a more gradual route for the sleds?” we asked Rosa and Fynn, the sled pullers for the day. “Not a chance” they said, and up we started, puffing in the cold mountain air.
When we all joined together our breath was caught on the wind as we saw the vast frozen swaths of the Manicougan Reservoir ahead of us. We were so in awe of it that we could do nothing but sing, and when our voices where carried away by the wind we howled at the top of our lungs. We had made it, we were not only alive but fully living.
We finished our group solo and met Misha, Tom, and Katharine down at the bottom of the mountain at Camp Nomade where we spent the next two days cutting a total of 7 cords of wood for Jacques, the nomad and Guy Boudreau, a Labrador native, a caretaker of the mountains. Then, after an alpine start and a bit of a drive back into civilization we stopped at Saint Lawrence Bay and went for a cold dip. Our drive took us to Quebec City where we went on a historical tour of the city with an amazing teacher Eve Lacombe, and then had small group duos where we got to run around town and explore for a couple hours. It was a fascinating contrast to be in such a populated area after not seeing anyone but the people in our cohort for a month. We will cherish every second.
Uapishka, you rest in our hearts.
-Onward and upward, Grace Zaboski.
“I am here for adventure, the risk factor, the unknown. I grow the most in the hardest parts of my life & I enjoy the challenge. Without a risk, the unknown, a challenge, I feel like there’s no point to life. During the hardest part of this expedition I have found myself thrilled. They beat into the fact that I am really out here, accomplishing amazing things and living life to the fullest way more then I would back in Wisconsin, still in high school. On the coldest days and longest stretches a grin will often spread across my face and I find myself even laughing out loud at the absurdity of us out here choosing, even paying, to go through this. However I am also grinning at the environment that surrounds me and the people who are right along side me going through the same things, we are experiencing what so few people get to… pure wilderness. While sometimes I am worn down and hurting, I never question why I chose to do this, for I know this is what satisfies me and ignites my soul.” –Rosa Koehnlein
Uapishka… the journey we excitedly planned for since the beginning of the semester. After our short stay at Heartbeet we drove through Quebec City and continued north until we reached the home of Jacques, a long time friend of Kroka who has been living in the mountains since the 1980’s. We set up our camp near his beautiful log cabin, and we were off early the next morning for our 26-day journey into the mountains.
 |
| Revenge of the Frozen Anorak |
Our journey began as we climbed up a steep frozen creek bed. The amount of food needed for 15 people for such a long expedition required two sleds, pulled most stoically by Bobby and Grace Jessiman. These first few days physically taxed us more than any other time. When we finally made it to Lac Magique, where we had our first live-over, many of us were beat beyond belief. We had made an elevation gain of 1,700ft in just two days. On our live-over we had time to learn about this land reigned by spruce, whose spiky boughs would become our carpet and whose wood became fuel for our stove. Above the spruce we found windswept peaks bordering perfect powder skiing bowls.
After Lac Magique, we pointed our skis east and headed toward Mont Lucie, with blue skies above. In the dazzling winter sunshine, we took a break from our packs and followed Misha as he glided ahead of us to the top of a slope. Then he turned to us and said “like this” before gracefully telemark skiing back down. Soon a hoard of semester students careened down the slope. It was incredibly fun to soak up the warmth of the sun on our cheeks and be free, for a moment, from our packs.
When we broke camp the next morning we knew we would have a hard day ahead of us, traveling 11k across a treeless plateau. When we arrived to the top of the plateau we met whiteout conditions. It was hard to tell where we were, or what the contours of the land were actually like, because everything was grey-white: above, below, and all around. What seemed like a flat stretch could have a steep slope in the middle. We were happy to have our competent navigator, River, who led us down safely from the plateau to our Mont Lucie camp.
The next day we summited the 3,500ft mountain and were caught in whiteout conditions again, experiencing ripping winds and a lunar landscape. It was quite the experience straining our eyes to try peering through the swirling white, and in the end we could only see the outlines of nearby rocks and each other through the thick and beating snow.
 |
| Building an igloo |
 |
| Cutting blocks for the snow wall surrounding our tent |
Back down at camp, our canvas tent became a cozy classroom for studying The Endurance, listening to wilderness medical lectures, reviewing weather patterns, and learning about poetry. Here is one of the poems we wrote:
“Lost and cold we eat our snack
Skiing fine until the smack
My face comes up with a beard of snow
One that Wahanik could only hope to grow.”
 |
| Fynn collecting boughs for our tent floor |
After a couple of days at Mont Lucie we pointed our skis back west and toward the next section of our journey: Mont Jauffret. Through notches and plateaus, over windy lakes and protected ponds, we kicked and glided our skis, ever perfecting navigation and camp set up, until at last we reached Mont Jauffret, and awoke to another sapphire blue sky.
“You have 15 minutes to meet at our trail, bring water bottle, and journal,” instructors announced. We were caught by surprise as the girls were in the tent mid-wash and the boys were out collecting firewood. It was a mad dash to prepare ourselves for the spontaneous day out, but we did so excitedly. When we made it to the trail we moved as quickly as we could to beat the clouds rolling in from the horizon. As we climbed up the side of the 3,494ft peak we watched the world behind us expand. Once at the peak we could see all the places we had gone, along with the corner of the giant Manicougan crater. It was so captivating to have a bird’s eye view of the land we traveled through. From there we were sent in groups of three back down to camp. The slopes were the perfect condition for telemarking skiing and the windswept slopes made perfect berms for catching some air. This was our commencement for group solos.
The next afternoon we were sent out for our first group overnight where we constructed snow caves in the side of a hill and slept surprisingly warm. Later, we all reflected that one of the most simple and yet incredibly beautiful experiences we had was watching the warm glow of the candlelight bouncing of the sparkling snow. Directly after morning meeting we left on our second small group solo that would consist of two groups: the boys and the girls.
 |
| In a snow cave! |
It was really fun seeing how we could rely on each other and work as a team to get camp set up, and even with that we still had our serious set backs. For the girls it was a tent that was so frozen from melted snow that we had to stuff it into a backpack and strap the excess to the outside of the bag. For the boys it was managing cooking and melting water on a much smaller stove. Something we learned was how much we need each other in order to efficiently and enjoyably live in this landscape. We met back with our instructors the next day to complete our academic work and prepare to return from the mountains.
 |
| Whiskey Jacks eating from our hands |
Two days later we had a whole group solo back to our starting point at Jacques cabin. We were in high spirits and set out singing with exuberance. We slowly climbed into the last plateau as we did so the sky began to clear and rifts of blue popped through the seams of the overcast sky.
“Our last climb up a mountain,” River wistfully said as we peered up the steep slope. “Should we go a more gradual route for the sleds?” we asked Rosa and Fynn, the sled pullers for the day. “Not a chance” they said, and up we started, puffing in the cold mountain air.
When we all joined together our breath was caught on the wind as we saw the vast frozen swaths of the Manicougan Reservoir ahead of us. We were so in awe of it that we could do nothing but sing, and when our voices where carried away by the wind we howled at the top of our lungs. We had made it, we were not only alive but fully living.
We finished our group solo and met Misha, Tom, and Katharine down at the bottom of the mountain at Camp Nomade where we spent the next two days cutting a total of 7 cords of wood for Jacques, the nomad and Guy Boudreau, a Labrador native, a caretaker of the mountains. Then, after an alpine start and a bit of a drive back into civilization we stopped at Saint Lawrence Bay and went for a cold dip. Our drive took us to Quebec City where we went on a historical tour of the city with an amazing teacher Eve Lacombe, and then had small group duos where we got to run around town and explore for a couple hours. It was a fascinating contrast to be in such a populated area after not seeing anyone but the people in our cohort for a month. We will cherish every second.
 |
| After a dip in the St. Lawrence on the way home |
Uapishka, you rest in our hearts.
-Onward and upward, Grace Zaboski.
“I am here for adventure, the risk factor, the unknown. I grow the most in the hardest parts of my life & I enjoy the challenge. Without a risk, the unknown, a challenge, I feel like there’s no point to life. During the hardest part of this expedition I have found myself thrilled. They beat into the fact that I am really out here, accomplishing amazing things and living life to the fullest way more then I would back in Wisconsin, still in high school. On the coldest days and longest stretches a grin will often spread across my face and I find myself even laughing out loud at the absurdity of us out here choosing, even paying, to go through this. However I am also grinning at the environment that surrounds me and the people who are right along side me going through the same things, we are experiencing what so few people get to… pure wilderness. While sometimes I am worn down and hurting, I never question why I chose to do this, for I know this is what satisfies me and ignites my soul.” –Rosa Koehnlein
Amazing!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for this update!
Frank Cable
Although I only know one of you, I'm so proud of all of you. You represent the best that we can be. Thank You!
ReplyDelete