By BETH WATERHOUSE

Executive Director,

Oberholtzer Foundation

Week No.4

July 6-12, 1912

“The whole Sturgeon River…” writes Ernest “Ober” Oberholtzer, 100 years ago this week, “is beautiful. Fertile banks with luxuriant vegetation.” Such observation and recording quickly took a back seat to survival when, the next day, Ober and Billy Magee are traversing Amisk Lake (then Beaver Lake.)

“We venture round the first point and, finally after a long cold wait in a bay where the wind allowed no landing, paddle in the worst waves I have ever known… It gave me new confidence in my canoe. I prayed for our deliverance.”

Reading Ober’s journals from this week, I realize that the Thlewiaza River (later in the journey) wasn’t the only unmapped or confusing territory they paddled. Here, just two weeks into their trip, and still south of Pelican Narrows, Ober and Magee circle round. “I feel discouraged when I find we are on the wrong track,” writes Ober. “Nevertheless, we paddle back briskly and have our breakfast where we had camped the night before.”

As we read along, we know that Oberholtzer was fresh from Europe that summer, and his references reflect it: “Some beautiful scenery… reminds one of the valley of the Thames Sylvan vistas.”

Readers learn about the trade patterns of the day in the far north. Not only did the local Indians provide furs for the Hudson Bay Company, but white-fish as well, which “the company buys from the Indians… at ten cents a fish.”

Arriving at Pelican Narrows on July 12, 1912, the two men learned more about York Boats and again asked about guides. This time, the names were Joseph McCullon and then John Neenin. Neenin proposed too hard of an offer and was undecided. “That night in the tent,” writes Ober, “I decided to go alone in spite of everybody’s warnings.” Although we know the end of the story, we can’t help but feel the angst of each of Ober’s attempts to hire a local guide.

There are times when we humans pull in all the information that we can, to make a nearly perfect decision based on every known fact. There are times, even more often, when we “have our breakfast where we camped the night before.” The wilderness forces such partially informed decisions — guide or no guide — in this canoe journey of 100 years ago. What would readers have decided?

To follow Ober’s journey, purchase “Bound for the Barrens” available at www.lulu.com.