It’s been two days since my last meal. Yet I am feeling sharper than ever. I learned from the Native elders that if you want to find something, go without it. Anyone who has been around hunting dogs knows that a hungry dog hunts best. The same is true with humans: hunger sharpens the senses and keeps us alert and attuned. It is primarily for those reasons that I am going hungry, as I have plenty of food back home.
            While I am paddling along and reflecting on such matters, I glance down into the water, and there swimming by is a meal-sized Turtle. She seems oblivious to me hovering over her. My hunch is that to her, I am just another log in the stream, as I am stalk-paddling to create as little disturbance as possible. I move in rhythm with the current and the breeze, and I avoid looking directly at her. My hand dangles in the water like a side branch of the log, with the tips of my fingers sliding over her smooth shell. She swims on, oblivious to my existence.
            The shadow of my canoe passes over a large Suckerfish resting on the sandy stream bottom. I pass my hand over him as though it were a wayward branch drifting in the current, while at the same time imagining how I would lock my thumb and forefinger into his gills if I needed him for food. I drift on by and he doesn’t move.
             Glancing up from the water, I quickly realize that even though I am sculling slowly with only one hand gripping the paddle, I am traveling faster than the situation warrants—that situation being my imminent meeting with the broadside of a Deer. To escape the biting flies, she is standing right in the middle of the stream, where the water is deepest. I consider drawing my knife with my free hand and touching it to her belly, both to count coup and to prove to myself that she would have given her life if I needed her. Instead, I whistle the tew-tew predator alert of the Redwinged Blackbird. The Deer perks up and looks around, with her gaze shooting right over me. She then flits up the bank and stands there with ears perked and tail nervously twitching—typical behavior for Deer who are alerted to danger but don’t know what it is or from where it is coming. They are reluctant to flee, for fear of running directly into whatever is causing the threat.
              As I paddle by, she turns her head and looks down at me over her shoulder. Our eyes meet fleetingly, which is enough for me, as I don’t want to startle her any further. I am content to keep my smile and nod of recognition to myself.

   –  Written by Tamarack Song, founder of Teaching Drum Outdoor School, excerpt from his forthcoming book, Becoming Nature.

              Imagine maneuvering a solo canoe through the Headwaters Wetlands up here in the Northwoods of Wisconsin where Wolves and Bears scout the shorelines, and Beaver, Muskrat, and Otter fill the waters. Solo canoes are preferred over larger craft because they are short enough for easy maneuvering, light for easy portaging, and small and responsive enough to move easily through rivers, bogs, and other wetland areas. They allow us to go deeper into the wilds, and give us the opportunity to become nature right alongside wild animals. 
              If you are interested in learning more about solo canoeing, check out the free instructional video below which was shot during last summer’s Guarding Intensive Training. If you are interested in learning more about Teaching Drum and the programs that we offer, we invite you to visit our website at Teachingdrum.org.