Jim and I were passionate readers of Canadian stories about trappers and hunters of the North. While we were only sixteen we had done a fair amount of snowshoeing , and we were anxious to plan a winter overnight hike. We felt we were old enough to venture out in to the wilderness on our own.
We were encouraged to take a short overnight trip first, to organize and test our equipment, so we reluctantly agreed. Our present moccasins were not satisfactory so we knew we needed proper moccasins. So, that meant Indian made originals.
Jim’s father knew a source and arranged to order us each a pair. I can remembered the night they arrived and I first saw them at Jim’s house. The bottoms were tough moose hide while the uppers were soft deer skin. The uppers also had fancy Indian beadwork Now we would not only look like trappers and hunters but our feet would be a lot warmer.
I owned a pair of snowshoes and Jim had arranged to borrow a pair. We learned that the trappers of the North used lamp wick to tie their snowshoes on. Many places up north still had oil lamps so we had little difficulty in buying what we needed. We wished to copy the old traditions of the Canadian wilderness.
Our overall plan was to snowshoe the Brokenhead River which lies Northeast of Winnipeg and flows North west to Lake Winnipeg. It would be about a fifteen mile snowshoe hike each day and we would stay overnight.
Before we selected a date for the trip we decided to try out our equipment on a short trip along the Red River south of Winnipeg. We had someone drive us to the south side of the city and drop us off. We quickly discovered the new moccasins were perfect and kept our feet warm. We had felt insoles and wore two pair of heavy socks.
We each had a pack-board with our sleeping bags and personal equipment strapped on. We had a small toboggan to haul the two man tent and camping gear. We took turns hauling the toboggan while the other person broke trail. The snow was about two feet deep so we worked hard snowshoeing.
After a number of hours we picked out a good site to set up the tent and when that was done we built a good fire and made our supper. The weather was not too cold so sleeping in the tent was fine. We decided that we would take turns keeping the fire going all night while the other person slept or tried to sleep. Our test outing was really roughing it but we were satisfied that we had all the gear we needed to make a successful trip.
We had lots to eat and plenty of coffee so there were no complaints. The night did pass rather slowly but we managed to sleep between our duties tending the fire.
The only real difficulty occurred in the morning with breakfast. During the night all our food and water had frozen solid. . We had snow to melt and soon had hot coffee to drink while the bacon fried. The problem was with the eggs that were frozen rock hard.
We tried to peel the shells off but they were impossible to remove. Our plan of action was to use our hatchet to chop up the eggs and toss the pieces in the frying pan and then fish out the shells as they thawed.
Jim set an egg on the ground and then gave it a bang or two with the back of the axe. It made not the slightest mark. I was sipping coffee and giving advise. “Whack it with the blade of the axe and whack it hard!”
Jim’s next blow was full power and he hit the egg solidly but the blade simply skidded off and we watched amazed as the egg sailed off sideways through the air and landed about twenty feet away. It disappeared into the snow with a little pouf.
As we endeavored to find it we began to realized the egg was exactly the same color as the acres of snow that lay all around We searched on our hands and knees through about ten square feet of snow before we gave up and headed back to the fire.
It was getting daylight by this time and I stepped forward to take my turn with the next egg. I cleared the snow away down to bare ground and prepared the egg for execution. I am a little bigger than Jim so I put all my strength into the swing with the hatchet.
My aim was on target and I hit the egg perfectly. The next thing we knew the egg was sailing off in the opposite direction. We watched with dismay as the egg sailed about thirty feet and buried itself in a large snowdrift. We felt and looked like a couple of idiots but no one was watching.
We were soon digging into the drift with our hands trying to locate the egg. We notched it up a little and used our snowshoes to search but the egg avoided detection. Try as we might we could not find that very white egg.
At this point we had worked up quite an appetite so went back to the fire to eat the well cooked bacon and about six pieces of toast each. As we sat and enjoyed our coffee, we agreed that we would not take eggs on our next trip.
We broke camp and loaded up our gear and just before we continued on our journey we each took one of the remaining frozen eggs and threw them away as far as we could. No doubt they were still frozen in June.
Other than the egg problem, the rest of the trip went off as planned and we headed home to make the final plans for the Brokenhead River trip.
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