Standing Alone
Some things never go as planned; sometimes, this can be a good thing.
Being stuck on the eastern coast of Hudson Bay for five days was not exactly how my paddling partner Peter and I had planned to start our canoe trip in northern Quebec. For days, the wind ripped for hundreds of miles across the seemingly endless expanse of Hudson Bay from the west. Each day, our hopes of getting on the water to start our multi-week trip diminished more and more.
Fortunately, park officials in the town we had flown into were generous enough to offer up a cozy canvas tent just outside of town that we could use to wait out the cool weather and relentless wind. It was two days into our “trip” and I was reading through my large book at an alarming rate — what would I do once I finished it? At this rate, I would have to write a book of my own just to have new material to read. We could only spend so much time sitting by the cozy wood stove, thumbing through our books and waiting out the weather. We needed to stretch our legs.
We had received a suggestion from a local in town that suggested we take a hike to the nearby “Twin Lakes” that were nestled between some coastal cuestas (Ridges that rise slowly on one side and drop steeply on the back side) further southeast of town. This was perfect, a great way to see more of the stunning landscape around us and stretch our legs while we waited for our weather window to start our trip.
Rain gear, water bottles, and some granola bars packed away, we set off down a hunting trail past the town airport into the mountains. The varied trail traveled through the flat bedrock, open plains of the tundra, and dipped low into the willow and alder-choked creeks. On the trail, in the dirt and mud, the tracks of Muskox followed the course of the trail — they were fresh. In one section, a large amount of shaggy Muskox hair was woven into the grass covering the ground. We wondered, is this the victim of a pack of wolves, or a large amount of hair it shed between seasons? The hair of these unique animals keeps them very warm throughout the brutal winters of the north and is a prized resource for some people of the north who use it in replacement of wool for things like hats and gloves to stay warm.
Muskox, a large and hairy buffalo-looking animal that thrives in the barren lands was introduced into these parts of Quebec many years ago but has done well for themselves along the open country of the Hudson Bay coast. It helps that since they are not native to the area, the locals do not hunt them. We hoped that following the hunting trail and tracks, they would lead us to one of the small herds that roamed the area while on our hike.
Slowly, the trail drifted from the sandy and mossy ground to the rising rocky cuestas as we aimed for the largest peak in the distance. Cresting over a ridge, the first sight of the Twin Lakes came into view. A stunning display of two emerald lakes stretching between the rising wind-swept hills hemming both sides of it. Our jaws dropped as we continued our hike to the peak. “Why don’t more people know of this place?” we thought to ourselves. If this were in the United States, it surely would be overcrowded with tourists and have a popular geotag with its location for the next Instagram-worthy selfie. We felt blessed to have this experience to ourselves.
Our thoughts of the Muskox tracks and their whereabouts drifted as we admired the scenery of the lake when on the skyline of the peak we were climbing towards, I spotted the outline of a large dark animal. “Muskox”, I pointed. There, standing alone on the edge of the cliff, a bull Muskox stood guard, head in the wind, looking over the combined expanse of Twin lakes and Hudson Bay. A few hundred yards away, we crept closer for a better look. As we reached a nearby ridge, one, then two, then four more appeared from the dips and boulders.
Muskox are usually found in groups and when they are unsure of something they usually huddle together where there is safety in numbers. The small herd now got closer together and stood between us and the peak of the cuesta we aimed to reach. We were downwind of them, so they could not smell us, but in these barren lands, there are not many places to hide, so as we got closer, the curious herd stood watching. Careful to give them the right amount of distance, we skirted around them, walking the final short distance to the peak.
The Twin Lakes to our left, a large estuary to our right, and the Muskox and Hudson Bay behind us, we had some of the best views anyone could ask for. During the hike, as we walked higher and higher up the cuestas, the wind from the coast rose higher and higher and picked up speed. Stumbling occasionally to hold our ground in the wind, The high ridges made more sense as the location of choice for these herds as it kept them cool and bug-free. Although, I am sure they appreciate the views as we do too.
While we planned extensively the details of our trips for quite some time before we left, hiking was never on our agenda. As I stood on the top of the coastal cuesta battling my footing in the wind that prevented us from starting our canoe trip, I had to give it a thanks for giving me the opportunity to see these things I would not have seen otherwise. Some things never go as planned; sometimes, this can be a good thing.
