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The reason I am going on this trip (Entry by Scott)
(Apr 1st, 2005) After planning for over a year for this expedition, it’s beginning to feel ‘normal’. Good thing we are actually leaving soon! The point of this adventure, after all, is the adventure. I will admit that learning about the media, fundraising, budgeting, writing, building a website, working with sponsors, etc. has been educational and often even fun—but it’s all been in service of the grand adventure itself and finally the day when I will take the paddle in my hand approacheth.

All this planning and scheming for almost a year and a half has at times been tedious. At times I’ve lost track of why in the world I was doing the trip. This journal entry is my attempt to put the reason into writing.

A few weeks before Thanksgiving in 2003, Todd came across the book ‘Canoeing with the Cree’ in the bookstore. He read it, told me about it over the phone and said “you should read this book and we should do this trip”. Todd had been slowly educating me in the fine art of living your life the way you want to over a few years, but still, the suggestion that I go on a 110 day canoe trip scared the heck out of me. I mean, let’s be honest, your Mom and my Mom and really no one’s Mom goes around encouraging such reckless behavior; such wanton disregard for the American dream of ‘getting a real job’ and living a life of happy security and comfort. On a scale of dream things for her son to do, my Mom had ‘Doctor’ at the top and then some other nice, well-paying, white collar jobs and that’s basically where the scale ended. I had been offending my Mother’s sensibilities for years, but this suggestion, I knew, took the cake.

At least when I was making a wee pittance working at a scout camp, or a restaurant, or a gas station, or a food co-op, or as a Census taker, or in a homeless shelter, or at an AIDS service organization, or in a library, or at a wellness center run out of a church, or as a temp worker, or as a hall director (all jobs I’ve actually had), I was making a pittance. Going on a 110 day canoe trip, however, doesn’t pay a dime. Not a penny, not a pittance. Fortunately for me, my Mother had given up on me a while ago. Unfortunately for me, her voice still rang in my head. I could convince myself, kind of, that I was just biding my time until ‘the right job’ came along. But with my serious consideration of this proposal, the other voice that said ‘maybe you aren’t cut out for a regular, office-y type full time job’ spoke louder.

Like I said, Todd had been encouraging me to live my life the way I wanted to for a few years. We had become good friends in the summer of 2001 and took our first canoe trip together in the Spring of 2002. That first trip, a week-long paddle in the Boundary Waters, seemed a bit subversive even in itself. The whole idea of taking a week off from the world, away from commercials, phones, TV, newspapers, schedules, fast food, concrete, radios, jobs, obligations and the city, seemed a little selfish, and a little awesome. The whole trip was a big adventure from the get go. It was cold. There were big waves. We watched some old guys flip their canoe in a rapid and get really cold. We paddled right next to a loon snacking on a fish—too happily engorging itself to notice us. Our muscles hurt the 2nd day. It snowed at one point. The scenery was beautiful, the silence luxurious. I fashioned myself a great explorer, deftly reading the map and guiding us around every new corner to witness some unseen new place. We paddled on a tiny creek, a big river, and countless lakes. We laughed really hard on numerous occasions.

We took a few more canoe trips over the intervening years and I started to get a rhythm in my life despite not having a regular, full-time job. I started to occasionally think that maybe, just maybe, a person could be sane and happy without a full-time job (though more often I worried that this was a very dangerous way of thinking). I continued to run the winter camp and the summer camp, jobs that I just loved but didn’t pay all that well and were very part-time. But over time I convinced myself that I really did have to settle down. And after a few months of trying really hard to do it, Todd sprang this idea on me.

I thought to myself, ‘well, I guess I believe, theoretically, that a person should be able to do whatever they want to in their life, and, if I free myself from any and all judgemental thoughts and just ask, as if in a vacuum with no repercussions, whether or not I am interested in going on a 2,000 mile canoe adventure, then I would say yes. I mean, what red-blooded American boy would say no!? I grew up on J.R. Tolkien, on Star Wars, on Huck Finn. Here was my opportunity for a grand adventure. A truly spectacular voyage of epic proportions. I would paddle from, essentially, my own back yard, the very symbol of home life, of normalcy, of comfort. I would paddle from Minnesota, cradle of my Mother’s dreams for a better life, backdrop of my childhood. From there I would launch on a big adventure to a place that was absolutely wild. A place with polar bears, caribou and whales. The land of the Voyageurs and the Cree Indians. An exploration of three entire rivers, the 7th largest lake in North America. A journey across my home state and it’s mysterious northern provincial neighbor. We would go in the footsteps of one of our most famous Minnesotans (though he was born in North Dakota), Eric Sevareid. And though our voyage might be easier because of modern equipment, maps and food, for me the fundamental adventure of breaking away from a conventional life remained—a break that could lead to big things (it certainly did for Sevareid). A break that could foster deep friendships—the kind that are increasingly rare in our society. A break that would allow me to live feeling absolutely free for every minute of every day for 110 days. I said yes Todd, I will go. Making that decision was the hardest part of the expedition planning thus far. Everything else since then has been easy. They say that when you put your dream out in the universe, the universe will respond. I do truly think that if you want to do something, sometimes the most important thing you can do is just simply decide you are going to do it. Even if you don’t know where you will get the money. Even if you don’t know quite how to yet. Even if you are scared. Even if you think you might be ridiculed. Because when you make a big decision like that, it re-orients your whole psyche, your brain. And when you truly commit yourself, somehow suddenly things just start to slide into place. And you find yourself with a deep well of energy for the task at hand. And ideas start to foment.

I’m still not opposed to getting a full time job. In fact, the idea of making more money than I need to just barely scrape by is becoming down right appealing. Yes, I expect I will get a job like that and probably even before I’m 80. I’m just not going to do it before I’m good and ready, and now I’ve got a little adventure to attend to first.