{"id":38347,"date":"2026-06-08T00:00:02","date_gmt":"2026-06-08T07:00:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/?p=38347"},"modified":"2026-05-20T09:23:28","modified_gmt":"2026-05-20T16:23:28","slug":"baffin-island-expedition-part-3-water","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2026\/06\/08\/baffin-island-expedition-part-3-water\/","title":{"rendered":"Baffin Island Expedition \u2013 Part 3: Water"},"content":{"rendered":"

In July 2025, Heather Smallpage, Kelly Fields, Shira Biner, and Natalie Afonina traveled to Baffin Island in the Canadian Arctic for a five-week, human-powered exploration of the island<\/a>.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

In part 2<\/a>, <\/span><\/em>Heather looks inward for a light to guide <\/em>their through the trials and tribulations of their five-week-long expedition. This is part 3 of their journey.<\/em><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

There I was, singing to the current, feeling the soft rain on my face, and feeling light, alive: in body and mind. I owe my state to the river; its flow and gentleness, its constant state of movement, how it does not confirm but flows\u2013as a reminder that I am able to live in such a way too.<\/p>\n

We were constantly moving in Baffin Island, yet still had time to be<\/em> within the landscape. After 27 days of skiing, climbing, and walking over dozens of miles and all kinds of terrain, we finally inflated our packrafts and set off on the Kuugaaluk River.<\/p>\n

As we paddled closer to the end of our journey, I found myself in a state of emotional exhaustion I had never experienced before from being consistently disrespected. And yet just a few days on the river hit a reset button for me. Fun fact about me: I hate getting in water, especially when it’s cold. But while we were paddling, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to get my head under water and splash around.<\/p>\n

Those few days paddling on the Kuugaaluk River were refreshing in many ways. It offered space, peace, and, as down as I was feeling, I couldn\u2019t escape the childlike need to play. The day was beautiful, the sun was glittering on the sparkling water, the current gentle. Every time I stopped paddling, my boat would get flipped around and I would see the glaciers and mountains drifting further away. Looking back at them, knowing our journey was closer than ever to being complete, I found moments to process everything as the current carried me along.<\/p>\n

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(C) Kelly Fields<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Perhaps I loved the river so much because it was the first time I wasn’t pulling 100+ pounds behind me, or my body weight, and some, on my back. However, I think it had more to do with the flow of the river and its commitment to change and fluidity, being and moving in the only form it knows.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis palace speaks in ancient tongues. It speaks through the ground, wind, water, time\u2014that is the language it knows. It is one I am learning to listen to. These mountains shed, moan, shake, and let go. They let the unstable, loose parts fall away when the ice melts off. What’s under feels the sunshine.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

– Excerpt, Heather’s journal.<\/em><\/p>\n

In the Arctic, there was no escaping the endless amount of space or being anything less than present with my surroundings. For that, I was grateful. Not only was the landscape the largest and most expansive I\u2019d ever moved through, but it was also far enough away to let go of all the noise that accompanies \u201cnormal\u201d life. The land, ice, water, and wind offered me a chance to tune into another kind of frequency that I can only feel in faraway places. In some ways, that\u2019s the strongest pull for me to go on big adventures\u2014to connect with parts of the world that humans haven\u2019t created. To get back in touch with the land, and through that, with myself.<\/p>\n

A question that stuck in my mind throughout, was: what could we learn from the land if we really listened?<\/p>\n