Feeling Alive on the Mountain River
By Emily Spangler
The difference between surviving and living may seem subtle to some, but the distinction becomes significant when you experience something that makes you feel truly alive. Such as a wild and wondrous canoe trip.
In his song Stay Alive, José González sings: “There’s a rhythm and rush these days, where the lights don’t move and the colors don’t fade. Leaves you empty with nothing but dreams, in a world gone shallow, in a world gone lean. But there is a truth and it’s on our side. Dawn is coming—open your eyes. Look into the sun as a new day’s rise. We’ll do whatever just to stay alive.”
Lindsay Wiebold serenades the Mackenzie Mountains. (Alice Petty)
Watching the new days rise, and feeling completely alive, was a gift that we received while on our Arctic trip in 2017. While every canoe trip is different and special, I don’t think any of us had previously experienced such a poignant sense of being alive as we did in the Arctic.
It wasn’t simply surviving—muscling through, trying to make it across the finish line, or pushing against the wilderness, trying to conquer it. It was learning to accept and surrender, to flow with nature, and to appreciate its harshness and beauty. This was the feeling that we wanted to bring back to Ogichi.
This summer, that dream became a reality when Lindsay and I returned to the Mackenzie Mountains with six campers, all of them 17 or 18 years old, and spent 20 days on the Mountain River.
The pace of the trip was unfamiliar to the campers, who were used to “push” trips. We had numerous layover and half days, which we used to explore and more fully enjoy the area through which we were paddling. The continuous whitewater demanded our attention on the water, so taking breaks off the water was essential.
The author cooks dinner on the Mountain River. (Alice Petty)
The girls quickly adjusted to this unfamiliar vibe: riverside naps in the sun, hikes through winding slot canyons, a three-hour dinner prep for lasagna, complete with a hot-rock pit oven.
Each day, there was something new to excite and dazzle us: caribou, beavers, bears, lightning, crystal-clear pools, waterfalls, rainbows, rapids, canyons—it felt like we were in Narnia. We lived fully and intentionally, taking in the sweeping views, appreciating the smallest rocks. It was an absolute joy to observe the mental shift in the campers, from “We need to make miles” to “What can we explore today?”
“Each day, there was something new to excite and dazzle us: caribou, beavers, bears, lightning, crystal-clear pools, waterfalls, rainbows, rapids, canyons—it felt like we were in Narnia.”
In my journal, each entry starts with “Wow, what an incredible day...” or “Wild day today...” or “What an absolutely amazing day...” I obviously need to get more creative with my journal entries, but it was difficult to adequately describe the beauty we were experiencing. A passage from Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet does a better job:
Members of the Mountain River trip pose for a group photo. (Alice Petty)
“Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech? And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy...a heart inflamed and a soul enchanted.”
Beauty was our guide, and her wildness our teacher. The Mountain River inflamed our hearts and enchanted our souls. On the last morning of our trip, we listened to Stay Alive as the sun crept slowly over a hill—with the promise of a new day’s rise.
Emily Spanger, a former Ogichi staff woman, was a member of the 2017 6 North of 60 Arctic expedition. She returned to Ogichi in 2019 to lead the Mountain River trip with fellow Arctic veteran Lindsay Wiebold. This article was originally published in the Fall 2019 issue of the Alumni Newsletter.