Chapter IV: Preface (4)

The other long pattern is a style used in Alaska and Yukon. It is so shaped that it gives the maximum of surface covering qualities for a shoe of that length and a practical width. The stringing is very open and is put into the frame by a peculiar system, quite unlike that used in other snowshoes. This is an excellent snowshoe for fast travel in deep, loose snow.

Very short snowshoes made without tails are known as the "bearpaw" pattern. I have shown two of these. The one made without crossbars is used by the Indians of Washington. It is a very simple, easily made snowshoe, and is especially useful in the rough, brushy ground. It works nicely in the mountains of Pennsylvania and is probably as good for use in that place as in the Northwest. The other bearpaw shoe illustrated is a style that originated in the Adirondack Mountains. It was designed for the use of the spruce gum hunters, its short length making it a perfect snowshoe for use in gumming, walking around trees, turning and zigzagging here and there. This pattern is one of the best for very brushy ground, where rocks and fallen trees abound, and it is the best shape for use in the North when the first snows come and the small underbrush, snags, rocks and logs are not yet deeply buried. A pair of snowshoes like this may be carried in a packsack if the trapper is making a journey over his line when the first deep snow is due, and he will not then be caught without snowshoes when a day's journey or two from camp. This has happened to me, so I can now see the importance of carrying a pair of snowshoes at that time.

Snowshoes of all types have an opening in the forward part of the central section through which the wearer's toes move as he walks. At the rear edge of this opening are the toe cords, a bunch of five or six strands of rawhide, and when in use this part is beneath the ball of the foot. A toe-strap passes over the foot at this point. There is always some other form of fastening used, but this may be anything from the Indian's hitch of soft caribou skin or lamp wicking to the harness leather fastening of the white man, which buckles across the instep and above the heel. In all cases the fastening must pass around the foot above the heel, for it is this strap that supports the weight of the snowshoe as the foot is lifted; it is moved forward by the toe strap, and this piece also holds the foot in place on the shoe.

The Indian's method of tying a snowshoe to the foot has some advantages over the white man's harness fastening, but in other ways it is imperfect. The principal advantage is that the fastening need not be opened for removing the snowshoes or attaching it. I have used snowshoes a week at a time without opening the knot. A simple twist of the foot with bended knee will serve to free the snowshoe from the foot and it is just as easily replaced. But it does not hold the shoe as rigidly with respect to side motion as the strap and buckle adopted by white men generally, and I think it is more likely to cause soreness of the feet. The harness shown is one of the best styles and is easily made and adjusted.

For snowshoeing in Northern districts, where the weather is cold all through the winter and the snow remains in a loose, dry condition, buckskin moccasins are the best footwear. By this I mean moccasins of any kind of deerskin, tanned by the Indian method. Such moccasins are not waterproof, but that makes little difference, for the dry snow never makes wet feet. Buckskin is soft and light and if the moccasins are large, plenty of warm, woolen socks may be worn. For spring wear, when the snow is more or less damp, or for use anywhere when the snow is in this condition, oil tanned moccasins or rubber overshoes may be worn. Rubber is somewhat hard on the filling of the snowshoes, but if this is heavy and of good material it will stand a lot of wear. Ordinary rubber shoes should not be worn, however, without first removing the heels.

When walking the entire snowshoe is never lifted clear of the snow; the tail always drags. It is easy to learn to use them. I walked 12 miles the first day I tried snowshoeing. My greatest trouble was in keeping one shoe clear of the other, but this is soon learned. There may also be trouble in learning to turn, especially in brushy places, and in attempting to cross logs. When crossing a log the foot itself must be placed on the log and the next step must be of sufficient length for the snowshoe to clear it, or the foot must be turned sideways.

To get satisfactory service from a pair of snowshoes necessitates proper care. The wearer should always avoid walking over snags, or little hummocks, which are certain indications of objects barely covered and which may injure the web of the shoes. Do not step on a place which will support one or both ends of the shoe solidly unless the middle portion is also thus supported, for if the frames do not break the strain they will be weakened and will sooner or later take on a curved shape. Never step down from a high place with all of your weight on the snowshoes, for the strain on filling and frame is great.

Snowshoes require care, not only while in use, but at other times as well. Being strung with rawhide, this material is very susceptible to heat and moisture. If the shoes are not dried thoroughly after becoming damp or wet the stringing will rot, while if dried too rapidly the filling becomes brittle and breaks when put to a strain. In camp snowshoes should be suspended from the ceiling by a wire, for mice will eat the filling if they can reach them. Shoes should be watched closely also for worn strands and when a string looks dangerously weak the shoe should be repaired at once.

It cannot be expected that after the most exhaustive book study the novice will know enough about snowshoes to discriminate between the ordinary bad and those without fault. But there are points that if kept in mind will aid greatly in selecting snowshoes that will not only be desirable, but also satisfactory in regard to size, proportions and pattern. The extreme styles, as already pointed out, are not for the use of the beginner, for his snowshoeing is generally of the regulation kind. The snowshoes which he should buy, and which he will find in stock with most dealers, are more or less on the lines of the pattern shown in figure 5. The standard size, or about 14x44 inches, will answer well in nearly all cases. If the country is not too rough and hilly they may have the toes turned up an inch or two, but otherwise they should be flat, as shown. It matters little whether the toe be round, square or quite pointed, but it should be rather large in area while the heel end should be narrow. The long tail usually found on stock snowshoes is a nuisance and may as a rule be cut off to advantage, for usually the balance of the snowshoe is improved by so doing.

A snowshoe should almost balance when suspended midway between the two cross-bars, the tail end being just a little the heavier. Very few stock snowshoes are so made, most of them being too heavy in the rear.

When buying snowshoes examine the frames with care, for if they are not made of good, straight grained wood they are apt to break. The wood should be heaviest at the sides and thinnest at the toe. There must be no knots, cuts or other defects. Sometimes in bending the frames the makers split slivers loose and afterwards glue them down, so look carefully for such places.

The filling should be clear and yellow. It should be of almost equal thickness and there should be no splices close to the frame or in the centre. See that the thongs are thoroughly stretched, for poorly stretched filling is sure to stretch and sag the first time the shoes are used on damp snow. If the thongs do not run perfectly straight across the shoe, reject it, for this is a sure sign of poorly stretched filling.

What are sold as first-class snowshoes bring prices ranging roughly from five to ten dollars per pair. Good snowshoes cannot be made and sold at less than five dollars, and if they are large or have much work about them they cannot be made for this price. I do not find any material difference between snowshoes of Indian make and those made by white men. The very best snowshoes I have ever found being made for sale are those made by a friend of mine living in the Adirondacks. He uses the best of material throughout and the stringing alone used in a pair of his best shoes will cost him as much as the price at which ordinary snowshoes are sold. The best possible snowshoes are not available to many readers of this article unless they have learned to make them, in which case they can use as much care and as good material as desired.

WINTER TRAVEL IN THE WOODS

What a change comes over the great forests of the North when winter reigns and holds all nature in his icy grip. The fleecy mantle of white covers hill and vale, stream and bush alike, bending to the ground the lower branches of the spruces and hemlocks, smoothing over the rough trails of the fall, and burying the logs, stumps and underbrush from view until the following spring. The woods through which we traveled with ease and comfort when the ground was bare now has a forbidding appearance and it requires all the nerve we can muster to attempt to penetrate the dense, snow-laden growth, where we know that the first step will release a small avalanche of snow upon us. The bended branches and smaller growths of the thickets give a different appearance to the woods and distances seem shorter so that we find it difficult to keep to the old course, and wise is the trapper or other woods traveler who has blazed out his main trails before the coming of the snow. In this winter woods it would seem that only the wild creatures inhabiting it would be at home and perfectly familiar with the changed surroundings.

But the seasoned woodsman does not hesitate to travel the winter trail. If he is a trapper or spruce gummer the winter is his harvest time. He feels little of the storms which in more exposed country would keep one close indoors much of the time. On a still morning the cold may be intense and on all sides will be heard pistol-like reports from the freezing trees, but if he cannot keep warm by rapid walking, he treads down a spot of snow, pulls some loose bark from a white birch tree, places over it dead branches broken from the trunk of a nearby evergreen and applies a lighted match to the oily birch bark. In a few seconds he has a roaring fire by the side of which he can rest and restore the chilled blood to its normal state. The Northern frost gives no warning; it creeps cautiously through the clothing and at once commences to freeze the flesh beneath and at such times a fire cannot be lighted too quickly.

One cannot travel the snowy bush in comfort and safety unless he wisely prepares for such travel, by wearing the proper clothing and carrying with him the most suitable equipment. Clothing must be of the correct weight; just heavy enough to keep the wearer warm while traveling but no heavier, as bulky clothing is tiresome to one who walks the trails. A long coat is bad for travel; it clings to the legs and interferes with stepping over logs. The outer clothing should be of a kind to which the snow will not cling, yet it must be soft. Wind proof cloth is not needed, in fact a medium thick but loosely woven cloth is warmer in the woods than smooth, closely woven fabrics. The vest or waist coat is seldom worn in the forest, at least not by woodsmen. Woolen clothing, always, is the choice.

What I know on this subject I have learned from actual experience, and we are told that experience is the best teacher, but we could often save ourselves much discomfort if we would profit by the advice of others. However, knowledge acquired at the expense of time, health, comfort and money is often less costly than ignorance. The clothing and outfits I recommend are those I have found best for my own use, but an article is most useful when properly used.

I consider the following the best dress for winter wear in the timbered country of the North and so dressed a healthy man may travel the wintry woods in comfort. Starting with underwear, I advise wearing pure woolen goods, always, of medium weight, and all in one piece. The soft, fine kind should be chosen.

THE WINTER TRAIL

Wool absorbs the perspiration and is reasonably warm when damp or even wet. It never gets cold and uncomfortable like cotton underwear does, the nap does not flatten down, and it keeps the skin warm and induces a healthy circulation of the blood near the surface.

Wear woolen socks for the same reasons; two or three pairs, as required, and a pair of heavy knit wool stockings, knee length, over them. This is too much for warm weather, but I am talking of clothing for wear when it is cold. The amount of stockings required will depend somewhat on the constitution of the man who wears them; for one traveler can keep the feet warm with what would not be sufficient for another. Do not at anytime wear more socks than necessary, and wash them frequently, as it freshens the wool and makes them warmer. A number of pairs of medium weight socks are better than one pair of very heavy ones. They are easier washed, easier dried and more comfortable. Many bushmen wind a strip of woolen blanket about the foot, and this has the advantage of being cheaper than extra socks. I wear both the socks and the long stockings on the outside of the trousers, and the stockings should be held by a strap at the top. Stretch out the toes of the socks and stockings a little before putting the shoes or moccasins on over them and it will keep them from binding the toes.

The only footwear for winter travel when the weather is cold, especially for snowshoeing, is the buckskin moccasin. By "buckskin" I mean Indian tanned moosehide, deer or caribou skin, or the white man's asbestol cordovan horsehide, the latter being the best wearing material, but not as soft and comfortable as the others. Caribou skin moccasins are my preference for snowshoeing, and I like the Ojibway pattern with pointed toe and cloth top; they are not as likely to cause sore toes as the Sioux pattern (the regular factory made style) and the cloth top is warm and holds the snowshoe strings better than the buckskin top does.

Buckskin moccasins are not waterproof, in fact water will go through them almost as readily as through cloth, but waterproof qualities are not required in footwear for winter use in the North, as the snow never becomes damp until spring, and all water, except the smooth rapids, is well covered with ice. The only time when the traveler is likely to get wet feet is when snowshoeing over the ice on the lakes; then after a wind storm there is sure to be water under the snow on the ice.

A medium weight gray woolen shirt suits me best for woods wear. Trousers may be of almost any kind of strong, soft woolen material, and should be roomy, but fit well at the waist. I prefer to wear a belt rather than suspenders, but this is immaterial. If the snow clings to the trousers behind the knees, when snowshoeing, wear light overalls over them. I have never found anything better in coats than those made of mackinaw cloth, such as lumbermen wear. I like the plain colors best, blue black being my choice. All outside pockets should be covered with flaps to keep the snow out. Mackinaw is a soft, warm material and it will turn considerable rain. It has only one objectionable feature--the snow will cling to it, especially across one's back just above the pack sack, which the woodsman nearly always has with him; the warmth coming through the cloth causes it to collect the snow.

My choice of head dress is a good grade, long wool toque which can be drawn down over the forehead and ears. Over this I sometimes wear a sort of hood made of thin woolen cloth, which hangs down well over the collar of the coat and ties under the chin. This hood is very desirable, as it is a great protection from cold and snow. When walking through a snow-laden evergreen bush there is a constant shower of snow being released from the boughs and this hood keeps the falling snow from getting inside of the clothing, which it surely would do without this protection. It is also a shield against the cold wind when crossing frozen lakes, where the toque alone would not give sufficient protection. I steer clear of fur caps. They are too warm for walking, and I think it best to have no covering over the face, as any such arrangement will gather moisture from the breath and cause freezing. Unless one is exposed to a severe wind, holding the mittened hands against the face occasionally will prevent freezing in the coldest weather, providing we do not have to face the breeze.

The hands also need special protection from the cold and much could be written on this subject. I know of nothing better than mittens, not gloves, made of heavy woolen cloth, with a pair of cotton ones drawn over them. They are easier dried than a single pair of heavy ones; are easily made from old material, costing nothing, and are warm. They should be loose enough to pull off quickly, and the tops should come well up over the wrists inside the coat sleeves. Do not buy gauntlet gloves for the woods; they collect dirt and snow continually. No kind of leather gloves or mittens that I have ever worn will keep my hands warm unless they are very heavily lined and then they are stiff, so I prefer the cloth ones.

So much for cold weather clothing, but what shall we wear when the sun commences to travel his northern trail and the grip of Jack Frost weakens; when the snow melts during midday and our clothing seems uncomfortably warm. At such times we can discard the heavy shirt and substitute a lighter one; leave the overalls in camp and put the hood in the pack or the coat pocket, and wear fewer socks, with oil-tanned shoe pacs instead of buckskin moccasins. They are not as good for snowshoeing, but are waterproof if kept well oiled. Rubber shoes wear the filling of the snowshoe badly.

While I have been speaking of clothing for wear in the timbered districts of the Far North I realize that there are more of those who read this living in a less frosty climate, but for all of the Northern States this clothing is quite suitable and proper, with the exception of the hood and moccasins. The former is seldom needed in more open hardwood forest, and as snowshoes are not used much the shoe pac and rubber shoe are the footwear most often seen. For walking on bare ground or in shallow snow, both shoes have advantages and faults. The rubbers are heavier than the pacs and more protection to tender feet, but are more likely to tire the wearer, especially since rubber clings so fondly to all brush and weeds with which it comes in contact. But the pacs, while lighter and softer, will make tender feet sore on the bottoms, and they slip in snow more than do rubbers. My favorite rubber shoes for outdoor wear are those of ankle height, fastening with a lace or with strap and buckle.

Snowshoes can hardly be considered wearing apparel. An Italian who came over to Canada, when cold weather came, began to inquire about clothing for wear in that climate. When he asked what kind of footwear was best his informant told him that he thought snowshoes were the best when the snow came. Having no idea what snowshoes were he went to a store and asked to be shown some, and he was considerably surprised when he saw what they were. Snowshoes, however, are a part of the Northern woodsman's equipment, and a very necessary part. They are offered in a number of patterns by sporting goods dealers, and there are other styles made and used that are seldom or never seen in stores. Some are good; others are better, but each kind is good in some section of the country. It is not my object to go into detail in describing snowshoes, but I feel that I must say something about the patterns best adapted for use in the woods. They should be of about the standard shape, either round or square toe, as desired; for the average man, about 14 by 48 inches in size; frames of good straight grained wood, with the crossbars mortised in without weakening the bows. The tail should be fastened with rawhide, counter-sunk, and not a screw or rivet; and the filling throughout should be of good rawhide thoroughly stretched, rather fine and close in the ends and coarse and open in the centers. The toe should be large and quite broad, the tail narrow, and they should balance at a point just a few inches behind the center of the space between the crossbars. With such shoes you can travel fast on loose snow or hard; they turn easily; the broad flat toe takes a good grip and makes hill climbing easy, and it also stays nearly on the surface of the snow while the narrow tail cuts down and as a consequence they lift easily for the next step. If the filling is too close in the center the snow will pack under the foot; if the toes are too small they cut down and loose snow falls on top, making them heavy to lift; if the tail is too heavy it is difficult to turn with them; if the toe is upturned they slip on a crust or hard trail, make the feet sore, and are not good for climbing hills. Unless you know just what you are doing it is a good rule to avoid extreme styles.

If you are a "Down East" man you will undoubtedly select some kind of snowshoe boot, harness, fastening or whatever you choose to call it. Most of these give satisfaction, but I have used the Indians' method mostly, the same being a tie or hitch with a piece of five-eighth-inch lamp wick, about four feet long. The toe strap is separate and is fastened by weaving the ends in and out of the filling at the sides of the toe opening. The way of tying to the foot is shown in the illustration more plainly than I can describe it. Both strings are tied together above the heel, and when properly adjusted it is not necessary to untie for putting the shoe on or removing it from the foot; a simple twist will do it. I have used snowshoes for a week or more without undoing the fastening, and it is very nice in extreme cold weather to be able to put on or remove shoes without baring the hands.

If you are simply traveling through the woods aimlessly, with no intention of making future use of the trail, it makes little difference how you go, but if you are a trapper and are breaking out a trap line you will, of course, aim to strike the good places for sets without walking farther than necessary, and you should make your trail with a view of using it afterwards, avoiding steep ascents and dense thickets. If possible, get over your trail the second time before the packed snow hardens and the trail will be smoother. Blaze your trail on trees and brush as you go along. I think it best to mark the brush by cutting them half off and bending them away from the trail. If you must mark trees, mark two sides and then you can follow the marks either way, and you can also indicate the turns in the path. My objection to marks on trees are that they cannot be seen as plainly as cut brush, especially after a driving snowstorm, when the snow clings to the trunks of trees, and that the drooping, snow-laden branches often hide the spots just when you need to see them most. A foot of fresh fallen snow may completely obliterate your trail, but if it is well marked you can follow it still, and the beaten bottom makes easier traveling, no difference how much snow has fallen over it.

Breaking out fresh trails is hard work, and slow. You can break trail away from camp six hours, and return over the broken trail in two. In a snowy climate it is advisable, whenever possible, to travel each permanent trail at least once in ten days to keep it in good condition; but the trapper will want to get over the ground oftener than that anyway.

As snowshoes are costly and their life depends much on the care they receive I will give some rules covering this point that is always well to observe. In breaking out a fresh trail avoid snags which show through the snow or little protuberances which indicate snags beneath the surface; also beware of places where the snow appears to be held up by brush or sticks beneath. I once broke a new snowshoe frame by stepping into a concealed hole; the whole trail dropped down and my snowshoe caught on a snag of a nearby stump, breaking a section out of the frame. It is the stringing, however, that is usually cut out by the snags. Be careful also when crossing logs to see that the shoes are not supported solidly at the ends while the middle is free to go down; such treatment will either break the frames or bend and strain them, and if they assume a curved shape they are unsightly and tiring to the feet, also hard to use in hill climbing. I always like to get started on the trail as early in the morning as possible, so that I can travel a few miles before daylight, and I camp early in the evening so I can get wood and make a comfortable camp before dark. In the early spring, when the snow melts during the day and clings to the snowshoes the only time one can travel is in the morning until about ten o'clock, and late in the evening. At night, if the moon shines, one can make good time, but through the day is the best time for resting at this season. When the snow sticks, the snowshoes get wet and heavy and damp snow packs on top and clings to them, and when these troubles come it is best to cut wood, build a good fire and camp by it until evening. Stand the snowshoes up in the snow where the sunshine and the warm wind will dry them, make some tea and eat your lunch, then roll into your blanket and rest until the sun gets low, when you can resume your journey.

It is difficult traveling, at the best, and the strength of the traveler is heavily taxed. Always he has the heavy pack and the snowshoe trail seems endless. The home camp is ever a welcome sight. It means greater comfort and usually a day of rest to wash and mend the clothing, and admire the drying furs, the harvest of the traps. There are days of awful cold, and the deep, loose snow seems almost too much to endure; yet with all the hardships and privations there is an unexplainable fascination connected with the free, wild life in the woods and in tramping the winter trail.

TRAVELING IN THE PATHLESS WOODS