Another Month In Quetico-Part 1
by MNIIHON
For most corn-fed Yankees the term poutine might conjure images of peculiar colored bits of what appears to be food meticulously arranged atop pure white plates. Thin artsy swirls of orange crisscross the square(!) plate making the whole meal even more befuddling. This surely is one of the very few plates of food in an Americans life that would cause them to stop and ask “How do I eat this?” Poutine deluxe is the opposite of all that, and I cannot comprehend how this meal is not an institution in the States as it is in Canada. Essentially poutine is gravy on fries, or as The Outdoorsman sees it, fries in gravy. What makes it deluxe is the addition of ground beef, onions, tomatoes and shredded cheese. This makes it a meal that one could not possibly find peculiar, or confusing to eat. The only question’s you’ll ask is how to acquire more, and where a napkin is.
The gorging distracts us briefly. We come to terms with our dire situation over bloated abdomens. At 2pm we find ourselves four hours removed from our beds in a bed-less town. A town that would typically be ecstatic to give away a hotel room to an itinerant wolf is apparently and vexingly booked solid. Either we need to force a retreat back to camp immediately or find a bed. The only other place in this god-forsaken town I can imagine offering us repose is Canoe Canada Outfitters. While the others come to terms with the onslaught of gravy I totter up town towards a faint possibility. From a block away I can see stacks of canoes, parked transport vans, and boarded doors and windows. Being this late in the season I wouldn’t be surprised if they were closed, but fortunately the plywood door opens. Obviously they are not up to full operational status, with stacked boxes of merchandise and cleaning materials blocking the entrance. After a brief explanation of my sordid crews’ desperate situation the owner and operator Jim (who seems as shocked as we at the lack of rooms in town) offers us a bunkhouse for the night; I almost jump and click my heels together. Successful, I strut back to my gravy laden comrades and break the news. Our glorious moods return and we spend the rest of the day resupplying in leisure, guzzling Canadian lagers, and returning to the Outdoorsman for massive pizzas, knowing warm dry beds await us at the end of the day. Through the foggy window of our eerily empty bunkhouse I stare at the orange glow of a single streetlight illuminating the blowing sleet and ruminate. I find myself fortunate to be in this warm wooden building full of wool blankets, hot showers and mattresses, but I can’t wait to leave. Atikokan in October helps one appreciate the untouched wilds of Quetico more than any city I’ve ever visited. Our adventure up to this point has been just that. It has been filled with daring and exciting moments; unusual and hazardous moments; character elucidating moments. Enthusiastically I anticipate more. It’s why we’re here.
More photos at www.epdimages.com