I’d never been to the Torngats, but had long wanted to see these most majestic of arctic mountains. And there they were, labelled on the top right corner of the map, at the tip of Labrador and eastern Quebec. Staring at them now and thinking of the falcon I’d just spotted, a wild idea occurred to me: Why not get out my canoe, grab my backpack, and follow the falcon all the way to the Arctic?
Explorer, storyteller, and Fellow of the Royal Canadian Geographical Society Adam Shoalts returns with the account of his latest adventure: Paddling, hiking, and then paddling some more to trace the migration route of the peregrine falcon from his home on Long Point, Ontario to remote mountains at the northern tip of the Quebec/Labrador border; a backbreaking journey of 3400 km. Where the Falcon Flies is an engaging narrative mixing the details of a physical challenge few of us could accomplish along with the geography, history, ecology, and helpful inhabitants that he encountered along the way. I found the whole thing delightful, and although there’s a sense that Shoalts made this journey both “because it’s there” and because he was looking for material for his next book, the point he makes about the need for preserving greenspaces — for the benefit of migrating birds as well as for the mental health of humans — is beautifully illustrated by this account and I am enlarged by having read it. (Note: I read an ARC through NetGalley and passages quoted may not be in their final forms.)
I remarked to Paul how everyone I’d met on my journey so far, from the biggest cities to the smallest towns, from Lake Erie to the middle of nowhere, had shown me such utter kindness and eagerness to help.
“You know why that is?” asked Paul.
“No,” I said. In truth I’d never really thought about it, other than to think people in general are naturally good, warmhearted, caring sorts.
“It’s because you’re doing what we all dream of,” he explained.
I’m the kind of person who won’t go on a road trip without having hotels booked ahead of time, so it was wild to me that Shoalts — who was prepared with maps and satellite pictures and a GPS that would get him to where he was going — could paddle off into the wild, not knowing where he would make camp each night. Some stops were more urban — under the Burlington Skyway, along the Scarborough Bluffs, the busy port of Montreal — and some were in the hinterlands, but it seemed that just about everywhere Shoalts went, he would encounter folks who were interested in his journey and wanted to help him (Shoalts always refused a bed or a shower, but often, the drinking water and food that people insisted on sharing would come right in the nick of time). The adventure writing is exciting (navigating whitewater, playing dodgem with massive container ships, portaging around Niagara Falls) and the history of the areas he travelled through was organically shared (from rumrunners and witchhunters on the Great Lakes to forts and generals and furtraders along the St Lawrence) but it’s the wild landscape — the migratory pathway of the peregrine falcon — that’s the true star.
I reflected on all that I’d seen on my journey — the same journey, more or less, that the falcons make, albeit from the air. In my mind’s eye I visualized the protected waters of Long Point, the time-capsule-like forests of the Niagara River, the surprisingly rich greenspace hidden away in the GTA, the wonderful wildness of eastern Lake Ontario, the sanctuaries among the Thousand Islands, Montreal’s preserved forests, the swamps of the St. Lawrence, Cap Tourmente’s gems, the mountains of Charlevoix, and all the other places I’d seen leading up to these almost untrodden mountains. They were a reminder that all those little pockets of wildness are crucially interconnected, islands of habitat that falcons and other species depend on in order to make their annual journeys.
As green spaces are increasingly under threat — and especially here in Ontario where there’s simply not enough housing for everyone — it’s good to be reminded of why they need to be protected: not just for the well-being of the falcons and other species (although they do demand our concern) but for the well-being of us all. A wonderful read.
