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.

[Illustration: THE WINTER TRAIL.]

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.

[Illustration: THE INDIAN SNOWSHOE HITCH.]

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.