THE QUINZHEE QUARTERLY

Quinzhee Quarterly is the

official zine of ORSS, the
Outdoor Recreation Student
Society at Lakehead University.

orsslu@gmail.com
orss.ca

“Adventure without risk is

Disneyland.”
I’m stealing this little corner for myself. I need
somewhere to express my gratitude for the opportunity of Douglas Coupland
being editor this year.
Generation X
Initially, I was intimidated by the prospect of producing
something less than what I think Rec can be. I’ve been here
long enough to recognize what a diverse and considerate
program this is, what grounded, kind, and insightful people
are part of it. I’d hate for the Quinzhee Quarterly to
represent something else than those ideals. In my mind,
ORPT carries on a tradition of folk who are able to shed
stereotypes and expectations to explore the world honestly,
who are unwilling to sacrifice action for thought, nor
thought for action. We do both, well, and to me at least,
the QQ is the perfect expression of this tradition.
Plus, you know, it’s kind of fun to see your name in print
once in a while.

Jill Legault is next year’s editor and she’s going to be

amazing. Send her all the articles you can. I can’t wait to
see how the Quinzhee Quarterly grows with Jill in charge.

Brad Farrish
Editor
1.
LOCK OFF
NATALIE TUPPER
(2001)
Chalk up. My hands are sweating
so much; I need to chalk every
other move. I knew I wouldn't be
able to do this. Why did I even try?
Come on, lock off. Do it! Gaston,
cross-over. Squeeze, squeeze! Hand
foot match, one more hold, push,
push...success. It's a jug. ''Take!" I
did it!
Climbing for me is like being free,
getting the greatest rush in the
world, and doing something that
isn't all that common for a girl to
do.
So chillin' with the guys and
laughing at jokes that end in,
'there's a mono in there
somewhere!' are the highlight of
my days. Being able to lead climb,
and having the guts to fall over 35
feet, few could ever experience.
You climb out of sheer will, you
scale overhanging walls, you risk
your life and limbs at times in order
to reach the summit. When I
climb, I don't think, I don't even
breathe at times, because I'm too
concentrated on on-sighting the
climb. It comes to a point where I
can't feel my fingers, where my
forearms are so pumped that I can't
even close my hand. As long as I
finish that climb I'm happy.
When I fall, it's the worst. Don't get
me wrong, I love that feeling when
I'm soaring through the air, having Tupper: Out of the gym and into reality!
no control, but I hate
knowing that I could have
completed it. Why? Why did I fall?
Was it because I didn't have the cranked harder. That's what Gyms these days are filled with
balance that I didn't flag out? Or happens when you climb, more and more goombas, these kids
was it because I was too scared? sometimes you do something running around thinking that they
Too scared to reach that impossible you never thought you could have, know anything and everything
crimp that I know I could have and other times it's the easiest move about climbing, but don't know
done, if I just pushed myself, and and you don't make it. It's not fair. enough about it to get hurt. All the
hardcore climbers are gone, out on
the real rock, not stuck on plastic,
like me. I'm suck here, with all the
woodies, and the homemade 'rock',
wanting to go out, but to scared to.
Being outside is the real deal.
Trusting where you place your
hand hoping that it doesn't flake,
placing your feet making sure you
don't barn door is the real challenge
of the rock face. Not only is the
scenery breathtaking, and having to
clip your own rope on a quick draw
using only one hand, and learning
that you can't always trust what's
not inside that hold, but when you
reach the top you feel something,
something you'll never get to feel
unless you do it yourself. Or so
I've heard.
Someday I'll have the guts to go out
there, and climb that wall. For me
the real fear is not knowing where I
place my hands and feet,
unlike the gyms where you see the
holds right in front of you. Outside
there is nothing, except for the faint
chalk marks where past climbers
had placed their hands. No more
good-old safe plastic that I've
always known and trusted. Falling
is another issue. In the middle of a
climb, your worst fear could be a
screamer, falling over 50 feet
sometimes.
When your in the gym, you don't
have that fear of being cheese
grated, where your face, hands, and
knees get scraped along the walls
because they design the walls so
this will not happen. No one
designs the rock face, only nature.
When you're up there, you want to
be able to trust who's down there.
Trusting your belayer is huge. They
have your life in their hands. You
also need to know how to use your
equipment. I personally hate ATC.
Knowing that the only way that it is
locked is by having the rope facing
downwards scares me the most. I
stick with the grigri, knowing that
it works on friction and a locking
system makes me more
comfortable.
For some reason, I like bouldering
better, knowing that I'm the one
that's in control of my life, but
bouldering isn't my real passion.
Our world so often provides
vicarious and ersatz experiences
that people use to substitute for the
real experience because there are so
many people like me, people who 2.
love to rock climb, yet are scared to
go out and do the real thing. The
WINTER
fake walls present us with CAMPING
something we feel safe doing,
knowing that we aren't going to risk DEVIN RYAN
our lives, but to get an adrenalin
rush, and to gain the courage that
one day we will go out, and face
our fears and climb that wall we've
been wanting to for so long. On February 18th 2010 I had the away from school and residence, to
opportunity to take place on a others it was something more. For
So there's the EXIT sign. Do I dare winter camping trip with 14 other myself, the trip was an opportunity
cross it, and go out to the real friends. to express my admiration for being
world, away from the plastic and outside, an opportunity to step into
face my fears? Or do I stay back We left Thunder Bay that morning the outdoors and to teach and be
one more day, only to hear of the from by city bus and were dropped taught while being in some of
climbers that have done my wall? I off only blocks away from the northern Ontario’s finest
guess I'll wait and see, as for not Trans Canada Highway. Our backcountry.
my passion for climbing will never journey began by foot as we
change, and one day I"ll go past the crossed the busy highway and Waking up to beautiful, white,
crux of this problem. walked into the middle of nowhere. snowy sunrises and returning to
camp after cliff top sunsets was an
Natalie Our destination was a small section everyday activity that was a
of crown land only a few moment of reflection and time
kilometres outside of Thunder Bay itself slowed down temporarily as
where we intended to stay and we felt ourselves being absorbed
camp for the next forty eight hours. into the outdoors. Late nights were
This trip meant something different spent huddled around campfires
to everyone who participated. To telling one another stories of past
most it was an opportunity to get experiences to keep warm and
distract ourselves from our freezing
toes and fingers.

Two days later with an early

morning start our camp was ready
to return to the city. After
disassembling our quinzhees and
scanning the area for signs of our
visit, we returned home. The trip
was short but worthwhile.
Friendships grew stronger and a
sense of community was created,
leaving us memories for years to
come. If the opportunity to spend a
few nights in the middle of
nowhere has ever crossed your
mind, then do it, because it
wouldn’t be fun spending the rest
of your life asking yourself “what
if?”

Devin
3.
PATROLLING
THE HILLS
ANDY FOUNTAIN
Many of you avid rec’ers probably
have seen the side of a ski hill in
Ontario (or other respective
provinces).
Now on those ski hills you are
more than likely going to find a
bunch of different people. Some of
these people have heard their
calling and joined up with CSPS.
That is the Canadian Ski Patrol
System. These would be the people
on the slopes who tend to wear lots
of blue and yellow with a big
maple leaf with a “+” in it. And
these would be the same people
that tend to pull hurt people off the
hill and hopefully know what they
are doing with them!
Recently I had the opportunity to
attend a conference, competition
and training session for the Ontario
Aspen in the ‘70s. U.S. National Archives.
division of the CSPS. This was
definitely an experience to see how
volunteer organizations like ski
patrol, for lack of a better word,
works. The first day of the
conference was supposed to be an
on snow instructor-training
seminar. Interestingly enough, this
training involved spending a whole
30 minutes on the snow. The
seminar was mostly talking about
teaching methods, rather than the
content that was actually supposed
to be taught. We spent several
hours talking about semantics and
how we should be instructing and
how the instructors need to do X
amount of hours of teaching and go
to X number of hours worth of
instructor development courses per
year. Finally after four hours
talking about this stuff we were
able to go to the hill to see one, just
Ski Patrol Attends an Injured Skier. Crossed Skis
Indicate an Injury 1974. U.S. National Archives.
one of the many on snow skills that
they expect us to know as
instructors.
The next part of the trip was the
competition. Teams of three from
each of the eight zones in the
province showed up for this
competition. In theory the
competition was broken down into
three separate sections: on snow
skills, first aid skills and group
dynamics/team building. Thing is
they broke it into eight stations and
didn’t tell us which ones were
which, or really what the point of
each station in fact was. The
education director for Ontario set
up the competition. This
gentlemen, as well as many of the
other higher ups in the organization
tend to be acclaimed to their
positions, not always elected in.
That said, their credentials for the
position may or may not be
questionable, and the methods that
were implored for the competition
arguable. The group dynamics
portions of the competition, having
the outdoor rec background on the
subject, had very little to do with
group dynamics and yet were being
evaluated as such. When
challenged about the
appropriateness of this practice
they simple said get over it. Other
parts of the competition as well,
when challenged during the
debriefing got a very similar
response. A personal favourite line
from the debriefing was “I hear
what you are saying”. This was
repeated quite often, even in
response to issues that have
apparently been raised in previous
years.
Ski fashion. U.S. National Archives.
The third major component of the
weekend was the awards banquet,
at which all of the
accomplishments of the Ontario
division ski patrol were recognized
through an extensive series of
awards. The dinner involved with
the awards was quite nice, it was a
good opportunity to mingle with
other patrollers and really get a feel
for how things go on in the rest of
the province. The most interesting
thing to note about this banquet
was that the average age of people
there was probably in the high 40’s,
most of the people there were
males and every single person was
white.
This is a good opportunity to
discuss how we do things
differently here in Thunder Bay.
Because of the population here and
the attitude towards things like ski
patrol, everything is able to happen
differently. The group of patrollers
here are in it for fun, the
demographic for the most part is
students and it is not run like a
business. Ski patrol in Thunder Bay
is small, we don’t have thousands
of patrollers to coordinate and
educate. The politics of ski patrol
are lost here in Thunder Bay and
personally I feel that we are better
off for that reason! Ski patrolling
here is a good opportunity to gain
some experience doing first
response level first aid. It’s a solid
community to be a part of. And
most importantly it’s a cheap
season pass to both hills in town!
Andy
 4.
THUNDER BAY
THROUGH THE LENS
SYDNEY BADGER
5.
THE NAHANNI
NATIONAL PARK:
CANADA’S GRAND
CANYON
RICK DUHA
As summer rolls around and school
draws to a close, no doubt most of
us in the Outdoor Recreation
community are planning our next
big adventure. Many of us dream
big, with plans that will take us to
the far reaches of the world in an
attempt to push our comfort zones
to the limit. I urge you, however,
to take a serious look right in our
own back yard, at one of Canada’s
best kept secrets: the Nahanni
River up in the Northwest
Territories and Yukon. I had the
pleasure of experiencing a trip on
the Nahanni last summer, and I feel
very strongly that it is a must-do
for any aspiring adventure
enthusiast.
I have been lucky enough to have
paddled some of the most famous
and beautiful waterways in Canada.
I’ve dragged my canoe or kayak
over portages all over Manitoba
and northern Minnesota. I’ve been
lucky enough to paddle in
Algonquin Park, Quetico, and the
Churchill River in Northern
Saskatewan, along with many other
amazing trips in North America.
None of these trips hold a candle to
the awesome beauty and challenge
offered in the Nahanni National
Park. The towering canyons that
rise up on either side of you as you
paddle down the river take your
breath away. As soon as you start
to paddle down the river, you will
understand why this part of the
country is likened to the Grand
Canyon. I have never seen to many
incredible geological formations in
my entire life. The picture shown
here is one I took while on the trip,
displaying a formation known as
Hell’s Gate. We got the
opportunity to hike up to the top of
the left cliff face and the view was
absolutely incredible.
The Nahanni National Park
Reserve was proclaimed a
Canadian Heritage River in 1987.
It was expanded this past summer
to become Canada’s largest
national park, with a total area of
4766 km². One of the most
incredible parts about the park is
that there are no roads in or out.
The only way to access the river is
by float plane from the nearby
Liard River. The view from the
plane as you fly in is incomparable.
The trip my family and I
participated in started from Virginia
Falls (depicted on right, the view
from the plane), which is actually
nearly twice the height of Niagara
Falls. It is not as famous because
the measurement includes a rapid
right before the falls, so the vertical
drop doesn’t happen all at once.
We landed on top of the falls and
had to portage all our equipment
the 2 km around
the falls in order to start our trip.

We were guided on our trip by
Dave Hibbard, owner and head
guide of Nahanni Wilderness
Adventures
(www.nahanniwild.com) since
1989, a company which offers
canoeing, kayaking, and rafting
trips on the Nahanni and
surrounding waterways, along with
his son Luke. Dave was an
incredible guide, very
knowledgeable and extremely
helpful throughout the trip. Hiring
Dave was an excellent decision
because he took care of all the
organizational details, including
providing all equipment, supplies
and the plane ride.
Many of you might be thinking that
even though this trip sounds
incredible, it sounds like it will be
above your skill level. I can assure
you, however, that after watching
my mother and aunt with their gel
nails and fear of public toilets
navigate the river without a
problem, I guarantee you won’t
have any issues.
“Generally speaking, non guided
paddlers need to have advanced
wilderness and paddling skills,”
said Hibbard. “Rivers always
require more skill the first time
down.”
This is where having a guide comes
in handy; the guides were paddling
USA
YUKON
NORTHWEST
NA
TERRITORIES
HA
NN
I
BC
giant rafts full of equipment, and
were able to take passengers for the
more advanced white water
sections. The river really isn’t too
difficult a paddle, with white water
sets ranging from class 1 to class 3
technical. We were paddling two
person inflatable “ducky” kayaks.
These are much more difficult to
tip due to their flat bottom and easy
manoeuvrability, although I’ll
admit I succeeded at tipping twice
while trying to play boat in some
tricky sets (depicted on right). This
type of boat is excellent for those
who are still learning the ins and
outs of running white water, and
provide an excellent opportunity to
get used to the currents and get
comfortable in the big waves.
N
AB
SK
While we were on the river, we
only saw one other group of
canoeists. The feeling of being
completely alone with the
wilderness is really what sets the
Nahanni apart from a lot of other
rivers. There are only a certain
number of flights that can go in
every day, and weather often forces
the flights to be delayed. It is a
truly unique experience
“It is more remote,” says Hibbard,
when asked what sets the Nahanni
apart from other rivers. “However,
it is a park and plenty of assistance
is available when needed.”
The Nahanni is without a doubt one
of the most beautiful and remote
hidden gems in Canada. I urge you

to try and get up there at some
point in your life; it will be an
experience that you will remember
forever. If you do decide to test
your abilities on the Nahanni, make
sure to bring a camera because
there will be a plethora of
opportunities to capture incredible
moments on film, such as this black
bear that was curious about our
campsite. Also, give my friend
Dave a call because his expertise
and professionalism as a guide can
not be matched. Better head up
soon though, because more and
more people are checking out this
historical gem.
“Interest is up this year,” says
Hibbard about his upcoming
season. “We have twelve trips on
the books. Last year we only had
five.”
No matter what your chosen
adventure this summer is, I urge
you to strongly consider the
Nahanni River for your next life
changing experience. For
additional information on the
Nahanni national park, visit the
Parks Canada website at
www.pc.gc.ca.
Until next time, keep your paddle
in the water.
Rick
6.
SUNRISE
IN SIBERIA
KIM RAPATI
The sun, flickering through tall
birch and pine outside my window,
calls "dobrih utra" to me on my top
bunk of the no.110 train to Perm.
It's not what has actually woken me
up though.
It's 7am and our cabin-mate in the
lower bunks has a visitor over for
his breakfast of fried chicken and
cold hot dogs who smells
incredibly of the most pungent
puke I have yet to smell, even after
my days of Tbay St. Patty's parties!
There's no way I can sleep with this
stench filling up our already close
cabin so I relax in my bunk. I am
only just beginning to understand a
bit of their kurt 'da-ra' 'orrrring'
language which chatters up to me
as I watch wooden houses with
beautifully painted shutters rumble
by. The trees, still hugged by a
layer of snow at their base, remind
me of home but I am so very far
away.
And why am i way over here? I am
just beginning to understand - there
is a drive inside me which has bred
the need for me to feel the width of
the world. I have always had an
animalistic urge to walk boundaries
or climb to high points in order to
understand my territory and since
pouring over world maps my whole
life and wondering 'what the hell is
over there in Russia?' I have finally
given in to the pull and began the
journey across the other northern
continent.
It wasn't easy at all getting here. I
started off by gathering confidence
on a goat farm on a tiny island in

the south of Ireland. There I
welcomed in the generosity and
kindness of these island folk at
their trad bar drinking stout and
chatting with men who had a life at
sea carved into their faces and
watching over a herd of goats with
a legendary blind goatherd who
taught me so much about sight and
confidence.
And then, with this little core of
love and good cheer I set out - a
few hitched rides and a bus to
Dublin (in time for St. Patty's!), a
SIBERIA
ferry to Whales and a train into
London where I met up with Mike.
England quite appropriately
trapped us for a week with the
business of gathering up visas and
planning trains to places I never
thought I'd visit and then we began
a mind boggling whirlwind of train
stations, languages and countries.
As we escaped England, the train
we were on dove under the English
Channel to deliver us to Lille,
France. I dredged up my rusty high
school french for our stop in
Brussels and we got by pretty
easily in Germany which still had a
smattering of English about. By the
time we got to Poland the English
had drained off all the signs and at
the Ukrainian border we officially
said goodbye to our comforting
blanket of understanding. A little
terror started creeping up inside me
as I realized I really didn't
understand Russian very well at all.
I had been poking and prodding at
the language with mild attention for
the last couple of weeks and now it
dawned on me that everything is in
Cyrillics and its hard to find people
who understand English. So,
learning how to read Cyrillics and
the basics of the language
consumed the rest of our 30 hour
trip - scribbling out cheat notes
while countries I wish I knew more
about jostled past.
And finally - Russia! We breathed a
sigh of relief as we left behind
stressful border crossings and a
muddled mix of languages learnt
with fleeting permanence. At 4:30
in the morning our train arrives in
Moscow and we are swept along in
the rush of wheelies clattering over
the bricks. We followed the other
travelers zig-zagging example as
we run the gauntlet of hawkers
fishing for tourists beside the train -
'taxi, taxi, taxi'. We found our
hostel and discovered the news that
there had been a terrorist bombing
in the metro just the day before
which had set the city in a bit of an
alert. That gave a strange mood for
our visit to Moscow as we counted
our blessings and our decision not
to go through Belarus which would
have got us there a day earlier. Of
course we checked out some of the
great sites but then decided to get
out of the big city filled with police
and stress and booked our train
across Siberia for the next day.
And this brings me back to my tiny
bunk rattling along the Russian
countryside, trying not to breath in
too much. Later in the day I
discover the reason for the smell
which woke me so early as Mike
and I settle down on the bottom
bunk to share a couple bottles of
wine with our cabin mate and
attempt to understand each other’s
broken english/russian. Our cabin
mate Alexis is a man from Moldova
and along with his Russian friend
Sergei he enjoys smoking the most
repulsive smelling cigarettes.
Eventually, with the help of wine
and the sharing of Alexis' picnic of
homemade bread, cheese, boiled
eggs and preserved pig fat, I got
used to the complicating aromas
and we enjoyed the first of many
nights of drinking and laughing
with fellow train travelers (our next
cabin mates were vodka loving
professional skydivers!).
In the end, the trans-siberian
railway is an adventure across a
massive land filled with incredible
stories and history but I wouldn't
do the trip for the soviet
architecture, massive intimidating
cities or polluted Albertan-ish
landscapes; the real adventure is in
getting to know the people on the
train, having a glimpse into their
lives as you share a bottle of vodka
and a fork full of pig fat and ride
the rails together across half the
world!
With love from Siberia,
Kim
CATCH OF THE QUARTER

Here he is: Adam Wood.

I’m not sure what I could possibly say about this.

Cover and inside cover photographs:

Sydney Badger

Thank you to our contributors:

Devin Ryan, Sydney Badger,
Natalie Tupper, Rick Duha,
Andy Fountain, Kim Rapati.

And to you: thanks for your

continued support of the Quinzhee
Quarterly. See you in the fall!