Carlton Trail Walk, Day Five

Tuesday night we visited the Tourand’s Coulee/Fish Creek battle site where, during the 1885 Resistance, 120 or so Métis fighters made a much larger force of British regulars and Canadian militia to retreat, delaying their assault on Batoche for more than two weeks. The Métis Elder, Pat Adams, who showed us the area, explained the ways that the oral history of the battle is often correct, and the history books are often wrong. He was informed and passionate, but we were a restless audience: tired and sore after a day of walking and pestered by mosquitoes. I’m sorry about that. Anyway, the place has two names because the Métis knew it as Tourand’s Coulee, while Parks Canada has, until recently, followed colonial practice and referred to the place as Fish Creek. Now both names are on the sign: a small example of progress.

I’m tired and sore again today–almost too tired and sore to lay out my bivvy or cook supper. I feel the chill that accompanies heat exhaustion, even though it wasn’t hot today. Warm, yes: we walked under a nearly cloudless sky. It was the first day I’ve walked without an undershirt. (It’s time to launder the sweat-stained shirt I’ve been wearing.) But I often finish the day with a touch of heat exhaustion. It’s not strange. At least I finished. My blisters didn’t bother me as much this afternoon, and I was able to walk all the way to the end, despite the temptation of the support vehicles. But I’m paying for it now.

It was a day of thoughtful conversations. Rick and I talked about my PhD project, and the contradiction between a solo walking practice and the need to engage with community. It’s the question that’s been bothering me since I walked to Wood Mountain alone last summer, and it’s something I need to figure out before I write my project proposal next winter. Rick made a suggestion that might work; I need to write it down before the post-walk brain fog takes over.

And this morning, Louise left us with two Cree words: pêyatihk–I think that’s how it’s spelled–and sôhkitêhêwin. The first suggests patience and forbearance; the second, courage. I wonder if I displayed those virtues today. sôhkitêhêwin, perhaps, since I managed to stagger to our destination, although that might just have been bloody-mindedness. But did I express pêyatihk? I don’t know. Maybe.

One of the day’s highlights was seeing a small herd of bison–a huge bull and some cows–behind a tall, strong fence. They were magnificent. They ran away before I could get my camera pointed in the right direction, so you’ll have to take my word for it.

Other moments worth mentioning: Pat and Rick buying ice cream sandwiches for the group; lunch at an old Ukrainian Catholic Church; and this photograph, which Hugh, our leader, set up for Matthew Anderson. I horned in to get a picture for the blog, but it’s all Hugh’s idea.

Now I must get out of this chair, change my shirt, and make camp. We have another visit with Pat tonight, or else we can go to an artist’s studio in Batoche. But I won’t be able to do either one if I don’t stir myself.