No one is going to accuse you of cultural appropriation if you lower yourself into the bowels of a canoe. Canoe culture is real and part of our historical threads in Canada, as trip enthusiast Kate Dotsikas writes for Voyageur Quest, the only place in this country that you really want to organize your next canoe trip.
The canoe is sleek and unfussy. You need only a paddle (and a cushy thing for your knees, if you’re my vintage).
My paddle’s keen and bright
flashing with sliver
Wildlife is rarely disturbed by a paddler if your dip is quiet.
Meditative for a solo paddler, canoes accommodate crowds too. Dumping is allowed…once.
If you want to know about someone, take them on a canoe trip. Lily dippers are the ones to look out for. They can get back into your good graces only if they join the trippers’ chorus on the lake. Knowing the harmony will win you an extra marshmallow come dusk.
In my side of the family, there isn’t anyone who missed a canoe lesson from our chief canoeist, Marion Langford, today celebrating her 85th birthday.
Over the decades, my mother has given paddling lessons (dockside and in the boat itself) to her five children and their spouses, and all her eleven grandchildren. Once a camp program director, always a camp program director.
The loons on the lake have surely come to recognize the hairstyle and sure stroke of my mother. Neither have changed much. She’s not a cliché either. Happy Birthday Mom. Dip, dip, and swing.
As for the rest of you, any virgin paddlers out there, find a lake. Glide awhile. No need for flag waving. It’s all here.