Even if this page of LaHontan was written forty years before the journey that Jean-Baptist St. Those retorted themselves here probably in six or eight rowboats forming a flotilla and traveling together. An engraving preserved to Archives of Quebec shows us a stage representing a flotilla of this kind in row toward the station of Michillimakinac. A page of anthology written the Canon Lionel Groulx provides us with a noteworthy idea of it. These men, written Groulx, belong of the more virile type, the most robust youth.
Nothing is difficult and harder to operate than a rowboat full of hides.
The median distance to clear per day is fifteen miles in calm water, but a good bit further with the currents. And there is the exhausting task of portages. A backpack, enclose by a strap, tinker frontal strip, that descends in the back and tied at the hips, the load of a portageur can be as much as 180 pounds in weight. If not careful, the man can give himself a most heavily strangled hernia that will leave him dying the long of the path. A physical energy spectacle, but also that of misery that the one of the portageur takes on like a mule, sweating, a cloud of blackflies and mosquitos, trailing, descendant, on the length of the cataract, the narrow trail of roebucks, going without grumbling, otherwise he cannot concentrate on stones, branches of trees that will hangup his load, the putting down to rest and the time to smoke a pipe.