I’ve often heard people say that going to school, the University, etc. is the second-best way to get an education. I think there’s a modicum of truth to that, with all due respect to my employer. Implied in that aphorism though is that travel or perhaps reading, or maybe even the school of hard knocks provides a solid education. Personally, I go for variety-classes, reading, discussion, travel, and always maintaining a sense of wonder and curiosity about things.
There are many ways to learn and many people and things to learn from. I have had and continue to have the good fortune of learning a great deal from many wonderful professors. But one needn’t always look to people for an education. Thoreau, for example, was a very careful and astute observer of the natural world around him, but did not think highly of the more formal education he received at Harvard. Fortunately for us he had an inquiring mind and could write well.
One of my favorite teachers over the years has been my canoe. As I paddle along I ponder the very long and wonderful history of this craft. That gets me asking questions about Native Americans, who, in turn, make me wonder about rivers as historic roads or trails. And that gets me curious about this watery planet we all inhabit. Through the canoe I learn about a micro world, then a macro world, and then a micro world again.
The places I paddle always have a name. I go back to the library to find out what that place name means and it’s there I learn that many place names are descriptive of features that were important to those historic Native American travelers of that same river. Hmmmmm, this is starting to get interesting …
This business of canoeing seems to endlessly provide links, connections, and ties between things you’d least expect to be tied, linked, or connected. I never would have dreamed that out of an interest in canoes would come a fascination with maps. But maps, among other things, show one the options of where to canoe! Or, say you want to read something about river life – then head for Mark Twain for starters … the list of connections could go on and on.
We all see the world through our own eyes and based on the education and experiences that we have had. It seems appropriate to me to understand that the next person’s perspective may well be quite different than our own and that is a good thing. Furthermore, it is important to honor and respect these different perspectives for they can teach us many useful, good lessons.
One or two of those lessons the canoe has taught me are: a) to value land and waters and not to soil or tarnish either. The canoe has taken me to places where it has been abundantly clear that this lesson was violated and that saddens me, and b) the canoe is a simple craft and inspires a simple life. A sustainable lifestyle can be one sans bigger and better, sans greatly improved thus and so, and sans more of this and that. In many contexts and situations it’s worth asking “do I need this or do I want it?”
So the canoe becomes more than a vehicle to get from point “a” to point “b.” It has a history of its own and can become a vehicle for learning, for teaching, for entertainment and recreation, and can even become a therapeutic vehicle for finding solace and peace in a terribly troubled world.
It can be carried on your head, resold easily if you decide it is not the vehicle for you, stored relatively easily in the winter, and used to your heart’s content for many months of the year. Furthermore, the initial capital outlay isn’t so great that you’ll have to pull a bank heist to own one. Compared to an automobile it’s amazingly trouble-free and can get to almost all the same places, although via a network of rivers rather than one of asphalt. If you doubt that, try to think of a Maine town or city that is not either on a river, stream, or the coast. There are very few. Much early exploration and trade on the North American continent was done by water (e.g. Lewis & Clark, the Canadian fur trading voyageurs, etc.).
On another note, it’s time to dispel a rumor. Canoes are not tippy. A canoe rarely tips over on its own. In fact, I once saw one go through a set of rapids empty and it came through fine. It’s the people in them that sometimes cause problems … but that is a story in and of itself.
Artists often talk of perspective but paddlers can, too. I recently paddled completely around the city of Portland by going up the Stroudwater River and down the Presumpscot, completing the trip at the same point I started it-my house! By seeing the familiar (Portland) from the unfamiliar perspective of the water I was changing my view of things I know well. I think it behooves one to do this a lot. It’s worthwhile to see those things we know so well and learn that we may not really know them at all. It may not take a canoe to do this but that’s been my helper in this process. As far as I’m concerned a canoe is one of the few tools one needs in this life.
So the next time you get in a canoe I recommend you ponder a few of these things … and if the canoe isn’t your vehicle of choice, that’s okay. But whatever your vehicle is, let it open a world for you. Let it tell you of peace, of history, of beauty, of music, and of fellowship among people the way the canoe has done and continues to do for me.