Dr. TA Loeffler, Experienced Educator and Author

This is a guest blog by Dr. TA Loeffler who is one of our newest Women for Nature. She is an experienced educator, explorer, nature advocate, and author. TA research focuses on the value of being out in nature over the life span. She has received much international and national recognition for her innovative teaching and community engagement. Throughout her incredible journeys and outdoor adventures, TA has aimed to be a “public dreamer” to inspire and motivate others to have big dreams and big goals.

Sometimes the work of finding the words to describe a wilderness expedition is as arduous as the portages. I’ve just returned home from a two week expedition “on the Labrador” with five friends and I’m going to attempt to find a few words here to share of what we experienced as we travelled from Lake Shipiskan to the sea on the Kanairiktok River.

Canoe Trip Map – from Lake Shipiskan to Labrador Sea on Kanairiktok River

We flew to the trip start at Lake Shipiskan via float plane and then paddled and portaged our canoes 210 kilometres to the Labrador Sea. It was a privilege to traverse Nitassinan, the ancestral homeland of the Innu, via the Kanairiktok River. The Innu place name for Lake Shipiskan is Ashuapamatikuan, which translate as “waiting for caribou place.”

Float plane arriving at start of canoe adventure

The pilot circled the landing area a few times to check for hazards and then with the plane banking and throttle cut, the plane dropped suddenly from the sky and skimmed along the surface of the lake like the water bugs we all captured as kids. Gear was tossed off the plane and we all jumped to shore to watch the plane take off. Emotions swelled like the buzz of the straining engine and then the plane was off, gone.

We were alone with ourselves. And the bears. And the black flies. And the trees.

[separator headline=”h2″ title=”And the silence.”]

A profound silence. A deafening silence that was only sliced by us and the occasional jumping trout. We were in Labrador. With the lakes and river providing the multi-textured ribbon of experiences that would enter our bodies, minds, and souls with each paddle stroke and each step along the portages.

[separator headline=”h2″ title=”And the sky.”]

Oh the sky. A sky that greeted us in a steely grey reminiscent of a moody hormonal teen then transformed the next moment into a reflective blue dance of endless possibility. 

[separator headline=”h2″ title=”And the sand.”]

The sand that temporarily captured our footsteps until they would erased by the rabid rain, reminding us that we too are fleeting. Passing this way once. Noticing the preciousness of being here, both in this place, and in this life. Committing to look deeply along the way at both big and small.

[separator headline=”h2″ title=”And the fireweed.”]

The small alpine fireweed. Hardy and hard working to survive in this harshly beautiful landscape. It offers an invitation to pause. To stop. To breathe in. And then out as the miracle of small pink flowers adorn the shore.

[separator headline=”h2″ title=”And the rocks and the trees.”]

Seemingly at odds but strangely together. Inseparable from each other in this landscape and from the sky. Trees and rocks that both block and provide our passage. Home and away. There and here. Teaching the frivolity of separation and duality.

[separator headline=”h2″ title=”And the waterfalls.”]

The power of water channeled through narrow passages. Their sounds rumbled with a vibration that both terrified and soothed the spirit. The water calms and pools at the top of each, awaiting the moment to cascade suddenly to the bottom. To move from here to there with no choice about going. The water transforms from deepest sky blue to brightest cloud white and back to blue.

[separator headline=”h2″ title=”And the bears.”]

And the beavers, muskrats, woodchucks, geese, ducks, squirrels, fish…all of the wild beings that we see and don’t see. They too, leave their tracks in the sand. We catch glimpses of their passage. They walk, they fly, they swim. They remind us to take care. To travel well and do it right. To protect. To marvel. To squeal with delight at the magic of sharing the forest and water with them.

[separator headline=”h2″ title=”And the exertion.”]

The paddle strokes. The lifting. The dragging. The exhilaration of the rapids. The hard work of moving day after day. Crawling into a sleeping bag, sore, tired, proud. Mind empty save for the colour of the sky as the sun drained away for the day.

[separator headline=”h2″ title=”And the light.”]

The light of day leaving and the light of day coming. Sleeping until light. Sleeping when light. Sinking into a rhythm eons old that connects us to all who have walked and paddled this place. A place made so special by its remoteness. Its challenges. The discipline it demands. The skies it delivers.

[separator headline=”h2″ title=”And the team.”]

The sangha of the river. The ones who share the work and the fun. The skies. The sun. The rain, drizzle, and puns. Paddling our way to shared memories that will move, sustain, and enhance our lives whenever we come together to remember. This time. A time travelling through nature together.