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By Tump and Thwart Story and photos by Bob Henderson Fall 2002 Issue Okay. We know we should always paddle our own canoe. But does that mean we have to carry them, too? Bob Henderson has ways — both traditional and modern — to make the canoe carry almost easy. Not long ago, but long enough that I was still able to jog portages as the situation required, I found myself confronted by a younger lad on an Algonquin Park portage. I had passed him once over the 2500-metre plus (mile and a half) portage and was about to pass him again with a second load — to lap him, I suppose you'd say if you are thinking track and field, which I assure you I was not. He commented that I was not helping him look good in front of his girlfriend. Would I mind resisting the urge to show off? As I remember, he did not put it quite so politely. I acknowledged his concern in an awkward way. This was a first. Then I had a good 1000 metres or so (1100 yds), with this my second carry across, to fashion a comeback. I should add that I had only halved my first load, though this didn't seem to matter much to him. I should have said ... "Look," I should have said, " it’s not a matter of strength or stamina; it's a matter of technique. I have at least ten years on you and possibly hundreds of miles of canoe carrying weighing on my shoulders. I’ve developed techniques that you clearly don't have and likely — sadly, but not unusually — have never thought about. So if I am showing off, it’s technique, experience and attention to detail that I’ve got, not brawn. And what's more, I doubt such techniques are ultimately those valued by your girl friend." Oh well. Another missed opportunity. But all is not lost. I was provoked to add my voice to the “how to” literature of canoe tripping. Yes! I am confident, and maybe even a little arrogant, when it comes to portaging canoes and I can boast some knowledge of the many options. It’s no surprise to me that by paying attention to the bygone era of the working canoe-man, we can gain a better understanding of how best to cope with the trials of portaging. Of course in the Canadian west, where big lakes and large rivers dominate, a canoe is more likely rigged for whitewater, and paddlers run everything they can. When they must portage, they grin and bear it. But for the rest of us, it pays to consider how professional canoe guides did their work. Of course, we can’t ignore contemporary innovations either. I keep a watchful eye: new techniques and equipment can augment or even radically alter one's thinking. Back to that portage ... If I could sit that young man down by the evening campfire, for starters, I'd set him straight on the matter of slightly padded thwarts versus curved and shaped shoulder yokes. Yokes are shaped to fit around your neck to spread the weight of the load and they prevent the canoe from slipping down your back. They are more comfortable initially than a straight thwart bar, but over a long portage, the comfort disappears as the load rests in one position on your shoulders. The thwart is less comfortable at first, but you can shift the load to different parts of your shoulders. Yokes are like shoes. It’s tough to get a good fit. The optional resting places — or pressure points — on your shoulders are surprisingly extensive. I remember being surprised once, during the last kilometre of the 14-kilometre (9 mi.) Grand Portage (Grand Portage State Park, MN), with the position of the canoe. With Lake Superior finally in sight, I realized that the canoe was resting on the very edge of my outer shoulders — perhaps the only place it hadn't rested yet over the two-hour portage. How was this extreme position possible? The answer: it was the only place left that could stand the pressure. The message: what was comfortable at the outset or for the short haul was uncomfortable at the end of the long haul. I was grateful for a thwart on that portage. Craig Macdonald, a friend with a most admirable attention to detail, told me once that yokes are like shoes. If your goal is to find a comfortable yoke for the long carry, you'll need to be continually adjusting the shape to get that perfect fit. There is no such thing as a universal yoke shape. Even if you get lucky, remember that once your shoulders fatigue under the pressure, that's it. There are few adjustments to make. As for the dreaded slipping of the canoe down your back, a tumpline works wonders. The tumpline or tump strap is traditionally a leather head band with tails for lashing onto the canoe, but I've seen tump straps around the world made with rope, hemp and webbing. The tump spreads the stress of the load, helps straighten the back and adds control when connected to a modestly padded thwart. (Remember that if fatigue causes you to slouch significantly, then it is time for a two-person carry.) The tumpline can also be added to a yoke but again, the option of varied contact points is lost. The key to the tump is that it helps the load lay directly onto the spine. Tumps are hard to get used to, and yes, there is an issue of neck strain. The neck muscles of an average canoeing Joe and Jane are not what they used to be, but with conditioning, the neck muscles can develop, and the tump will become the missing link in portage comfort. The tump spreads the stress of the load, helps straighten the back and adds control... Is neck strain worth it? A long portage means strain on the back, shoulders and particularly the hands and arms: there must be continual adjustment. When you see a canoe being carried swiftly, parallel to the ground, with the carrier dangling one arm in a rest position and body erect, it is a safe guess that he or she is set up with a tump and carrying bar. Herb Evans III, in his classic canoe tripping guide published in 1975 wrote about the traditional method of carrying an 18 foot (5.5 m) freighter canoe weighing over 100 pounds (45 kg). “So efficient is the tump that the Northern Indian, who often portages a freighter weighing considerably more than a paddling canoe, uses no yoke — just a tump attached to the gunwales.” A minor point to consider: I prefer my tump attached to the thwart not the gunwales. I have found there is less rocking of the head when the tump extends from the forehead straight back to the thwart rather than angled out to the gunwales. If you are without a tump, lashed paddles can help spread the weight (see illustration at right). How to avoid cramped hands If you are holding the canoe by its gunwales, you will struggle eventually. If you don’t already have one, you may want to add a carrying bar to your canoe. If you install a carrying bar, don’t place it too close to the central thwart within easy reach, or you will block the space required for packs and a third paddler. You should need to reach a bit, but the reach should be comfortable. A few rope loops hanging from the carrying bar increase the variety of handhold options, and with a light touch, you can keep the bow down. The other arm can hang at rest or hold the tump in a secure position on the forehead. Stuck without a carrying bar? You can fasten a rope between the centre thwart and bow seat, and grasp that instead of the hull. Just ensure that the canoe is balanced bow to stern, or you will struggle whatever you do. Padding that works The padded thwart is best modestly padded with one or two wraps of a closed-cell ensolite pad, for example. Many wraps of the pad, or worse, many wraps of an open-celled foam material, can be a problem because you lose some control and feel for the load. Whatever you use must be clean and dry. Grit will wear a hole in your skin. The bottom line... Think of the end of the long portage, not the beginning. I personally believe that a lightly-padded thwart, a tump, a carrying bar and attention to details such as rope loops make the most sense, so that brute strength is not a requirement. The key concept is continual adjustment, often a subtle shift of the tump on the forehead and the thwart on the shoulders. Other traditional carrying ideas, such as lashing two paddles to the thwart, are worth considering. The paddle blades provide comfort to the shoulders by helping spread the load, and the paddle shafts provide easy support for the forward reaching arm. The system also adds efficiency when solo tripping. I might use this technique for a long open portage, but I don’t like the thought of a spill, with that locked in feeling of paddles at your neck. Perhaps my fear is unjustified, though. Professional canoe guides from the turn of the century no doubt thought this through, and many used lashed paddles and a tump-line. Many also used thwarts and tumps. Very few, I believe, did not use a tump. Portage bars A solid portage bar, together with a tump line, is still used by traditionally-minded folks and outfitters such as Camp Keewaydin in Temagami. The bar, which is thicker at the gunwales and has less depth towards the centre, is lashed over the centre thwart. It is designed to easily accommodate lashed paddles. Given my fear of using paddles, I personally have not tried this technique for more than a few strides, but it is a sound practice all around deserving of re-discovery. It is comfortable on the shoulders since it displaces the load widely, and it strengthens the thwart. It also elevates one's head within the canoe, which may matter if the hull is shallow. Thinking outside the box The Knu-Pac is an involved portage system that uses an external frame backpack with oar lock brackets overhead to “cradle” the thwart off your shoulders. The pack takes your supplies and the canoe’s weight, transferring the load off your shoulders and to your legs and back. There are no direct pressure points, and since the weight is over the spine, you can walk with back erect. This is particularly important as portage length increases, since a slouching back can become an issue. Once everything is secure and all adjustments are made, the Knu-Pac can be a revelation for long-aching shoulder sufferers. The canoe rides significantly higher than with other systems, so visibility is increased. Finally, a rope system makes it easy to manoeuvre the load: a stern line is attached to the pack and you control a bow grab line. The Knu-Pac sounds idyllic, but as with every other system, there are a few trade-offs. It is not easy to load and unload the canoe. That is no big deal every now and then, but could be if your trip requires repeated ins and outs. On difficult terrain or overgrown portages, the higher load can be awkward. The Knu-Pac would be in its element on big water rivers with one or two serious portages like the long carries from Mistinibi Lake to the Kokaluk River in Labrador. The estimated two-day carry over open terrain seems more friendly all of a sudden. For the many short portages on routes in Ontario's Quetico Park, though, the Knu-Pac seems like extra work, but it’s all a matter of what suits you. In Ontario’s Algonquin Park, open, 2000-metre (2200 yds.) trails are common, and the Knu-Pac might cheer some otherwise heavy hearts. The Knu-Pac is a clever system, and it is in some ways an old idea that was worthy of resurrection. I found a similar integrated system in old catalogues from the 1930s though not with the fancy waterproof fabric. Freighters Finally, a few thoughts on North Canoes or 20–24 foot (6–7 m) freighters traditionally used in the fur trade between Lake Superior and the Athabasca country. Old canoeing images often show these carried tandem right side up with the outer hull resting on one's shoulder. I had wondered how and why this was done. I was once involved in a fur trade recreation for a film. We “voyageurs” awkwardly carried the heavy, much-repaired fiberglass North Canoe with the gunwales on shoulders. I knew this wasn't right. Historically, these large canoes would be birch bark and cedar — a great deal lighter. Second, we have lost the technique of using our one free hand to control toggles to balance the load. One arm was wrapped around the bow. In the palm of the free arm, the voyageur carried a toggle attached to a rope. The rope ran from the canoe seat around the hull and over the top of the canoe to the outreaching arm. The short tether ropes supported the hull on one's shoulder. To carry a heavy canoe, three or four carriers might all use toggles. Now, maybe the fine points of a toggle system are a bit esoteric, but such historic gems might help fellows like the young man who cursed me on the portage trail. He may not need to understand every technique, old and new, but he needs to grasp the underlying philosophy. Portaging, like a good stern stroke, is mostly about finesse and understanding the dynamics. It is mastery of technique that counts, not muscle madness. For more information on portage techniques, look for the classic, old-style canoe tripping guide book Canoeing Wilderness Waterways, by George Heberton Evans III (March 1974). Heberton was a Camp Keewaydin-Temagami canoe guide from the 1950s to the 1970s. While this title is now out-of-print, a limited number of used copies are available from Amazon.com. Bob Henderson, the KANAWA heritage specialist, teaches Outdoor Education at McMaster University. Email him at bhender@mcmaster.ca. He thanks Craig Macdonald for his feedback and insight. He also thanks Knu-Pac for the opportunity to test this intriguing portage system. For information, contact Knudsen Enterprises, 1-888-727-8857. www.KNUPAC.com