Day XII -lama-like balsam firs and postcard perfect sunsets

Hum, let’s start with the end, today…



As we were enjoying our very first “early night” of the trip, all happy with our 6km of endless, shitty portages through swamps, black flies, and whatever fucking weird rock formations the glaciers decided to leave there, the Moisie decided to offer us the very first spectacular sunset since we left: the shadow of the narrow valley strained the light of the fading sun, splattering rays of red, pink, yellow and orange light all over the water and the clouds… We all went down by the water and sat on rocks to check out the breathtaking scene. Nobody dared to talk, and with our group that’s really a fucking exploit. It’s always a turning point in long trips when silence isn’t awkward anymore.



I’d probably still be sitting there right now if it hadn’t been of the bannock menacing to burn.

We left the maps to Jacqui today. It’s a little weird at first, kind of like seeing a child’s first steps… but I still can’t tell if it’s Jacqui or the maps themselves I felt insecure about letting go of alone…

I have blisters and a pretty impressive assortment of scratches all the way to the sole of my feet. And don’t even get me started on black flies. The comforting part is that everyone is the same. All men are equal in the taiga…

There is sand everywhere because of our beach campsite from yesterday.

Oh, I got stung by a bee this morning.

Cool elements of the landscape today:

- The valley getting deeper and deeper
- The various tree lines drawn by the shade of the mountains on the opposite shore
- “Pride rock” and it’s intimidating silhouette against the sky
- Pékans, even if really that was more yesterday
- The cottage-sized boulders and rock slide trails

Marcus showed me how to use the machete and got spat in the eye by a balsam fir. We had our first fit of the giggles in a while. That’s reassuring, I guess.



I put my head in a small waterfall this afternoon and everyone made fun of me since the water probably came from a bog on top of the mountain. Whatever, I can’t really be any dirtier than I already am.

Lining is fun.

I wish I could write some more but I’m way too tired.