Free Extreme Frontiers: Racing Across Canada from Newfoundland to the Rockies by Charley Boorman Page A

canoe
     did come off it would probably take the tail section and us along with it.
    ‘Would it?’ Russ gave me a quick glance. ‘That’s heartening.’
    Finally the plane was ready and Russ and Nat climbed in. ‘Good luck, guys,’ I called. ‘See you up there.’ We watched as it
     took off, bumping across the flattened surface of the lake and then into the air until the sound died and it was nothing more
     than a speck on the horizon.
    An hour and a half later it was my turn. With two more canoes strapped on, Mungo and I climbed aboard and I took my seat alongside
     the pilot. The plane was pretty roomy actually, although very basic, with the seats in the back little more than benches along
     the sides. We were in the air for about thirty minutes before I could make out the Bloodvein River cuttingthrough the landscape below us, just like an artery. This was like nothing I’d ever seen before, not a hint of humanity as
     far as the eye could make out. I was really excited now. Cam had said we were going to a place nobody went to, and from the
     air you could tell that he meant it. All I could see was a vast expanse of forest bisected by the river and its tributaries.
     As we began the descent, I have to say my heart was in my mouth for a moment. I’ve flown small planes and landing is always
     the tricky bit, and this was a floatplane coming down on a narrow river with trees on both sides. It would be very easy to
     get this wrong. As we went lower, of course, that narrow strip of waterway became a lot wider, and our pilot knew what he
     was doing. He had a massive grin on his face and you could tell he just loved this bit. Checking the wind, he chose his spot
     and nose-dived into the canyon, pulling up to drop us on the water with barely a splash from the floats. Then we just cruised
     towards the bank and tied off. Really it was as simple as arriving on a boat.
    Once the gear was unloaded, we were straight into the canoes. The plane headed upriver for a few hundred yards before the
     pilot brought it about and came hurtling down towards us, lifting off right over our heads. In a moment he would be gone and
     we’d be on our own: eight guys in four boats in the Manitoban wilderness. The canoes we were using were open kayaks – Canadian
     style with a single short paddle – a modern version of those used by the fur traders, or Voyageurs, who transported their goods
     by canoe all those years ago.
    We rafted up (as Dave put it) for a moment or two; that was when all four boats come alongside each other so we could discuss
     what was going to happen next. As though he was somehow reluctant to leave us, the pilot made a pass overhead and performed
     a little wing wave before finally disappearingabove the trees. Cam was busy giving us a short briefing: the plan was to paddle as far as the Akeeko Rapids and set up camp.
     ‘OK,’ he said, ‘before we head off I’ll give you some whistle information. If I blow my whistle once, it means listen up.
     If I blow twice, it means raft up. That’s a position of safety: if we’re all together like this, nothing’s going to sink us,
     OK? If I blow my whistle three times, that means there’s an emergency and we have to get to shore immediately. Everybody got
     that?’
    It was a sombre and important moment, though I have to say I was busy showing Mungo the name tag I’d written on my paddle:
     ‘Charley Big Boy’. You know it’s true; you only have to ask my wife.
    Paddling downriver, we took the left fork and a little further on we headed for shore just ahead of the rapids. Once the boats
     were pulled up and upturned, we strung lines of thin rope between the trees to clip our rucksacks on to. Another safety feature;
     we’d know where they were at all times, which was important, because if we lost anything it was the end of our journey.
    A hint of white bone half hidden in the dirt caught the sun, and looking closer we saw it was a skull – quite a big skull