Read True North: A Journey into Unexplored Wilderness by Elliott Merrick Lawrence Millman Online

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While many people dream of abandoning civilization and heading into the wilderness, few manage to actually do it. One exception was twenty-four-year-old Elliott Merrick, who in 1929 left his advertising job in New Jersey and moved to Labrador, one of Canada’s most remote regions. First published by Scribner’s in 1933, True North tells the captivating story of one of the hiWhile many people dream of abandoning civilization and heading into the wilderness, few manage to actually do it. One exception was twenty-four-year-old Elliott Merrick, who in 1929 left his advertising job in New Jersey and moved to Labrador, one of Canada’s most remote regions. First published by Scribner’s in 1933, True North tells the captivating story of one of the high points of Merrick’s years there: a hunting trip he and his wife, Kay, made with trapper John Michelin in 1930. Covering 300 miles over a harsh winter, they experienced an unexplored realm of nature at its most intense and faced numerous challenges. Merrick accidentally shot himself in the thigh and almost cut off his toe. Freezing cold and hunger were constant. Nonetheless, the group found beauty and even magic in the stark landscape. The couple and the trappers bonded with each other and their environment through such surprisingly daunting tasks as fabricating sunglasses to avoid snow blindness and learning to wash underwear without it freezing. Merrick’s intimate style, rich with narrative detail, brings readers into a dramatic story of survival and shares the lesson the Merricks learned: that the greatest satisfaction in life can come from the simplest things.From the Trade Paperback edition....

Title : True North: A Journey into Unexplored Wilderness
Author :
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ISBN : 21282379
Format Type : Kindle Edition
Number of Pages : 314 Pages
Status : Available For Download
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True North: A Journey into Unexplored Wilderness Reviews

  • Ken
    2019-04-27 00:44

    I love nature writing, but I don’t even remember if I finished Walden, the Holy Grail of Nature Writing. Don’t tell ole Henry David, will you? I tried to mollify him by buying a big-ass hardcover of his journals, but I’ve only taken morning dips in that, too. But this isn’t True Transcendental Confessions time, this is a review of another nature book, one originally written in 1930 called True North: A Journey Into Unexplored Wilderness. I bring up nature as a genre only because it’s germane to the reading. I find that, despite loving books about woods, winter, and wilderness, I can grow bored in the boreal surroundings at times. Perhaps, then, essays are a better vehicle for nature writing. Perhaps full-length books lose some giddy-up due to the dearth in plot, suspense, and narrative arc. And perhaps instead of 4-starring it, I should 5-star True North as a “browser,” the type of book that lends itself to quick look-see's while you’re reading another book.But, between all the muddy day-to-day stuff of a New Jersey ad guy following native trappers (and real "characters") around Labrador in the dead of winter, you get flecks of descriptive gold. Neat little moments of wonder. It’s when you read these that you want to throw caution to the zephyrs and follow Merrick’s example: quit your ant-like job, give what little lucre you have the middle digit, and ignore the ringing phone that would be your mother sobbing, “What the hell are you doing with your life?” Yeah, all that. Find a final frontier. Bushwhack it. Then scribble in your Moleskine for posterity (or at least for your mother, who loves nothing better than a bone to gnaw on while feeling sorry for herself). Anyway, here’s Merrick just camping out:"We've camped in some lovely spots on bluffs and wooded islands, in grassy glades under huge old trees, beside brooks, and on beaches. Some of the best times are in the evening when the tents are up, the fires alight, something cooking that smells good, and the blue smoke rising from every little stove pipe, curling up among the branches. The chuck, chuck of an ax sounds a little way off through the woods. Sunset reddens the lonely river to wine and fades away. Off there toward the dim west, over the brooding, ageless hills, you could go for a thousand miles and not meet a single white man; probably not even a stray Indian family. No one has ever made the trip straight west across the inaccessible middle wilderness, that never-never land from there to Hudson's Bay. Nothing has ever tarnished that bright coin of adventure."Then he’s off again, trapping marten, mink, and otter; shooting ptarmigan, partridge, and pintails; and hunting bear, rabbit, and deer. Canoeing the rapids. Portaging over mountains. Lighting fires in winds that would make Chicago look wimpy. You know. All that LL Bean stuff we posers dress for but never actually do. Sometimes Merrick will riff on matters other than nature and that’s nice, too. French Lit., anyone? Ici pour vous:"Reading a paperback copy of Aucassin and Nicolette this afternoon. How charming it is, like the music of a brook. And how long ago it is already since the first jongleur told the chanson, and how long it will be before the last reader puts it down with a sigh. Only the simple and beautiful lasts. All ugliness vanishes finally."Overall, a nice read, though you’ll have to yell mush and crack a whip over the lazy, casual pages now and again. You see, nature writing isn’t really made for page turning, for daily reading in fell swoops, for cover-to-cover journeys as featured in a novel near you. At least not for me. So maybe I’m a fraud. And maybe Thoreau had me in mind when he said, “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation – especially when they love to read about birch trees but get caught in the branches and look longingly at more novel trees.” So that’s the asterisk (or, if you’re in Rome, caveat) to this review. Pick it up if you’re sentimental for outdoorsy stuff, man vs. nature, and descriptive delights. But know that it’s written in diary format, that it’s not the most exciting fare you’ll read this year, and that it might best serve in a supporting role as you gallop apace in another book.And now, off to find a misplaced copy of Walden.

  • Eh?Eh!
    2019-05-09 05:45

    I haven't finished it but I notice that if one doesn't type something into the review box then one doesn't usually win another first-read. Unless one is Chris Wilson, who defies all rules and logic to win freakin' first-read after first-read (we hates him for that). I've been sitting on this one for a long time, reading it slowly. Some thoughts to place here, so that I can maybe have a chance at winning more books again:- this dude lived out a childhood dream I've had since reading Gentle Ben, leaving all the cities and roads behind to live up north- his view of the native peoples was disturbing. it's like the conflicted feelings society seems to have generally about poverty, where aww we should help them but they're all criminals so they need to keep away.- nature is so damned beautiful- not much about his wife- while I'm jealous of his adventure, I'm also a bit irritated that he did this. Like this dude: American Shaolin: One Man's Quest to Become a Kung Fu Master.

  • Chris
    2019-04-28 01:41

    I did like this book. The author has a colourful way of describing things which can be overly tedious at times. Gives me a whole new respect for the men and women who made a life for themselves in these harsh conditions. All in all a good book!

  • Lisa Kearns
    2019-05-20 05:40

    I received this book through the Amazon Vine program and was excited to begin reading it. I search far and wide for old books about the Far North, written by the people who settled it. I'm grateful this book, which was originally published in 1935, has been re-released for a new generation to enjoy.This is the story of Elliot Merrick and his wife Kay, who spend the winter of 1928 in the wilderness with the trappers of Labrador. They lived on little more than skillet biscuits, tea, beans, dried peas and the few ptarmigan they could shoot. They walk and run alongside the trappers as they go from hut (called a tilt) to hut checking the trap lines, eventually covering hundreds of miles in sub zero weather. They pull their belts in three full notches over this period, and recount that they were never warm the entire time.And yet they gloried in the beauty and wildness of the land they traversed. They had come from the Big City, and discovered a lifestyle that made them feel most alive. Merrick perhaps goes a little overboard in his vilification of city life and the 9 to 5 of industrialized society, but I have many of the same feelings and can understand how happy he would be to escape it.I was charmed by his descriptions of the many types of snow, the danger and beauty of the iced up rivers, the breathtaking sunrises and sunsets, the musical squeaking of their snowshoes on the snow, and the pleasure they felt with the simple food they ate. Throughout the book I was thinking that I wouldn't have been able to survive under the same conditions. Kay impressed me most of all, being able to keep up with grown men under extreme circumstances, and never once complaining about the cold or lack of food. She kept them supplied with meat by learning to hunt rabbits and ptarmigan by snare and shotgun.Merrick was a product of his time - he described the local Indians as thieves and savages, and talked about the butchering of fur animals for an industry that has all but died out. He might be un-PC by our standards, but I loved this glimpse into a lifestyle that no longer exists. He describes the trappers in words that show how much he respected them. Most of them were illiterate and lived their entire lives hand to mouth depending on how the trapping seasons went. But he saw the honor system by which they lived, loved their unique way of speaking, appreciated their deep affection for their families, and admired the freedom of the life they had chosen.For anyone who enjoys reading about outdoor adventure and days gone by, I highly recommend it.

  • Mike
    2019-05-13 03:52

    Elliot Merrick lived the life of Jeremiah Johnson fifty years after Mr. Johnson. An interesting book from start to finish, quite intriguing to see a "greenhorn" and his wife run with seasoned Labradorean fur trappers. Written in the typical style of most memoirs of it's time, ala Beryl Markham, Merrick's book describes beautiful scenes in a way the average person could not today. The imagery was on point and was aided with many similes and metaphors. If you have ever dreamed of leaving civilization and heading north, this is a book that will not talk you down from that ledge, you will want to pack a winter bag and leave.

  • Tiffany Risner
    2019-05-12 01:39

    Elliot Merrick is or has become a legend of sorts, at least according to Lawrence Millman, who I completely trust. If Millman writes it, I’m buying it – literally and figuratively. With that in mind, we the readers get a chance to follow “THE man” alongside his wife and another experienced trapper as they move through 300 miles to their hunting grounds by canoe and foot (that’s 600 miles round-trip in five weeks). It doesn’t feel overtly adventurous because Elliot focuses on the aspect of how hard it is to carry one’s belongings and tarry through wetness and coldness. He doesn’t over-aggrandize the point, and so we are left with something that feels like edited diary entries from a first-time explorer of the North. His “beginner” experiences capture what it would truly be like for most of us who are the readers not living in the North, trying to understand.He takes his time to describe what nobody else could possibly see: “We ran through fields of crinkly new ice, plains of drifting loveliness set with jewel-like etchings in silver and black, designs of exquisite delicacy bending over the ripples that curled from our bow, sounding as we cut them a song of glass chimes in the breeze. In all the maze of million-lined tracery one design appears over and over again. It is a curve-tipped leaf, a tiny thing no bigger than my hand, a tiny thing no artist ever will or could draw, acres of them, made last night, melted this noon, in Nature’s devil-may-care way that says, ‘That’s nothing. If you live to be a million, I’ll take your breath away every day you keep your eyes open.’” There are several instances where Merrick pens the beauty of the North with poignant words. He is not poetic, but his love shines through in his effort. It’s as if he’s sharing a secret: “Where the river runs shoal over sandbars or orange pebbles it doesn’t look like ordinary water; in the slanting sunlight it has some superclear, jewel-like quality, pure rippled joy, a roadway of it to travel on all day long. And it doesn’t taste like water. It has a delicate, tasteless, crystal magic that is even better than champagne.” There is an undertone in his observation that nature has met his expectation, that THIS is what he came North for, and he got it. Something as simple as water or a river is a vehicle for Merrick’s transition into his new life, not just a winter camp. He appreciates not only the beauty of the scenery but also of his own hard work, pain and suffering.I sympathize with his need to get out of the city when he says, “I prefer mud to cement sidewalks and water out of a bucket to water out of a faucet.” He writes to justify himself, as if readers from the 1930′s would be shocked at his need for a wild life. Some may argue with his statements such as, “No matter what anyone says, men in the cities spend their lives and win their bread fighting other men. In primitive places they fight nature and are drawn to other men by the common battle.” However, it never feels like Merrick is trying to convince the reader of his view because he realizes that if everyone came to live in Labrador, he wouldn’t be enjoying it as much. He believes that the businessmen from “another planet” have a completely delusional mentality that wouldn’t serve them up North and says, “I’m glad they stay in the movies and do not come here.” His statements from almost a century ago still hold true for today, though: “How sad it would be to buy everything!” Was anyone else crying out this sentiment in the 30′s? Was he ahead of his time? I’ve been crying this, lately…Throughout his own journey he adds vignettes including legends of a French Paul Bunyan, a tale of a real abominable snowman-like beast, a horrible virus that struck two homes and the nurse who snowshoed to their rescue, Indian lore about “the man in the woods,” and historical remnants of the famed Hudson Bay Company. Each turn piques one’s interest and thickens the narrative. It’s not just a story of his journey, but a multi-layered journey folding itself as if existing in parallel universes. They happened then, but in a timeless place they seem to be still happening through the new journeymen.There is a deep love and respect for things handmade including Indian sleds and canoes. While Merrick admits that he doesn’t particularly love the natives and their style of begging, he does appreciate how they are artists who have remained relatively unchanged. They still make excellent canoes, sleds, clothing and snowshoes that he can only dream of imitating. A canoe, to him is form, function and “beauty unsurpassed by anything that man ever made.” His dreams of “an Indian hunter’s sled that will fit in a snowshoe track, light as a feather…is fading” as the art dies with these people. He writes as if every part of his new life must be appreciated because he doesn’t have faith that they will continue as they are. His cynical view brings reverence as well as heightens the need for his story to be told.Honesty is one of Merrick’s fortes. He has indiscriminate views about women and how they are nearly equal to men in strength and rigor. Kay must have been a happy wife. He writes, “The Labrador woman is a remarkable person, worthy of more notice than she gets. Although she does more work than it would seem possible for one human being to accomplish, she is still a person, and not simply a drudge.” Thank you! I don’t believe that being in the North taught Merrick to appreciate his wife, because he seems to have been bred with a respect for women. There was almost a feeling of a love not hidden within the text. He is never sentimental, but he does have a need to appreciate his “indispensible partner” in life in his own manly sort of way. Merrick is also brazen in his feelings toward killing meat and I can imagine any vegan using his book as a platform for argument. He’s nearly offensive – and I like meat! He says, “…one loses energy and endurance on steady diet of flour. What we want is meat and plenty of it. I think at this point I could peel and eat a raw warm partridge gizzard…” He never fails to admit his admiration for her, his wife.This “memoir” is a piece of literary non-fiction until he injures his toe. He may as well have axed himself in the head because from this point in the narrative on, the descriptions become lackluster, the vignettes lose tenacity and the journey just wants to hurry up and be finished. The freezing elements seem to encumber Merrick’s ability to be playful or contemplative with his writing. The “slowing down” begins at around page 141 and continues nearly to the end, with brief periods of sentiment that are rewarding enough to bring the reader to the finish line. It was disappointing to be chugging along to the rhythm of a well-written travel narrative and then to feel as if I were stuck in a monotonous repeat of what had already occurred in the beginning of the book. I believe this book would’ve been better to call itself a “travel narrative” than a memoir because I attribute the lulls to the lack of story. Normally, I suppose a memoir is structured with a climax of a sort, and this book was shaped like a plateau, structurally speaking.After page 141, I began anew and discovered a few more “gems” such as this one towards the end: “We seem to have lost our masks; we could not carry on a conversation that revealed nothing, and we did not wish to learn again.” The greatness within this “aha” moment is that people in the cities tend to remain at the surface level when it comes to socialization. Merrick wanted to be away from the mechanical mentality and found it. Everywhere he traveled in the North, he was met with kindness and generosity of the genuine sort, and he fancied it, no doubt. I often wonder how city folks force themselves to become the opposite, as a form of self-preservation and protection from a metropolis full of others who can injure one at any time. It is a life full of fear and loneliness, regardless of how close next door, above or below a neighbor might be. I, too, don’t understand why people would want to live this way (as Merrick continuously explains). Later, he writes that his travel companions “could not get used to the fact that people in cities walk right by each other and never speak.”The North is undeniably “hard” and Merrick tends to overstate the problem to catalyze the fact that he is willing to accept the sufferings nature doles out. Anyone can assume it would be a hard life, but the painstakingly long chapters almost drive home the message better than the obvious language. The text itself is hard to get through, and probably because it needs to be. The repetition and maddening drudgery are necessary as are each footfall and labor or the writer to completely understand how “hard” living in the North is. A reader can believe he/she understands after viewing a photo, but one fully understands after being dragged along slowly and methodically on this journey with Merrick, his wife and the other trapper. The reward is dual: at the end, Merrick focuses less on the beauty of the North because he’s no longer a “tourist.” In the end, titled “Bittersweet,” he seems to have become a trapper. Alongside him is the reader who will unwittingly become knowledgeable about what “hard” actually feels like without having to go through it personally. I understood it to be exasperating, and wondered how in the world he managed to pen his experiences along the way (or remember them so exactly afterwards).“In all the miles and miles of nature’s own imperturbable humanlessness, one burnt match dropped in the track looms as big as a house.”Heh, heh and here’s a good argument for education (not): “I can never look at Harvey Goudie without wishing I had had four years in the woods instead of four years in college… it has advantages over never being a man, even if you can’t read and write.”“I shall say a prayer tonight and ask God to alleviate the hardships of the poor kings of the earth… help them tossing restless on their Simmons Springs to sleep as sweet as I do on the floor… for theirs is a kingdom of silk-lined hardships forever and ever amen.”“…the silent trees seemed to be watching and wondering if they might not have the honor of smashing my sled to splinters for me.”In an effort to judge this piece as literary, I admit that I have reservations. One of the most annoying things Merrick does is sporadically change the point of view to third person. He begins speaking of himself and his companions as others, as if he is observing the three of them from outside of himself. It is arrogant, awkward and dis-connected and I can’t understand why he chose to do it. However, I wouldn’t throw his book into the non-literary canon so hastily because he does write things such as “The moon is climbing and way out on the ice there is a light. It winks like a campfire… I know it is an ice crystal shining above the snow in the reflected moonlight, one of those cut diamonds as big as your head that shines in sunlight with blue fire,” which doesn’t forget the art of language. Better yet is the tension captured here: “It is hard to describe the evil of those black, liquid windows across which the water swept to dive out of sight with an ugly ripple… The water looked colder than the space between the stars, oily, almost gelatinous, and jet black.” I can see this, but I never could’ve written it so: “Snow commenced to fall, faster and faster, and the wind rose until the moving blanket made us feel that the world , the solid air and sky were all going by us like a rapidly moving strip of film and we alone were stationary.” I have to rely on his words for the experience as well as the feeling, and at points like this, it comes through.Finally, I would have loved to hear at least a chapter from Kay, if not her entire version of the same journey. I tend to lose myself while reading Merrick’s account because there is little connection in my female psyche. I had previously read a similar book of survival in the woods by a woman in Maine (not North enough to qualify, unfortunately) that was so much more endearing and nurturing in all ways. Her book took me in as a friend more than Merrick’s did. I think he knew this was lacking in his narrative, which is why he tried to reference her experiences so often, but it just wasn’t enough. When he said, “I was afraid Kay would give out. I don’t know how she ever kept up,” I want to yell at him, “Why not? Why don’t you ask her and then tell us?” I know he can’t get inside her head, but he can have the decency to report on her feelings once inquired, no?

  • Anthony Meaney
    2019-04-29 04:01

    This is a relatively unknown book but has a cultlike following among people who like to venture out into the coldest weather for long treks. The author accompanied his wife to Labrador and lived for a time with the Newfoundland trappers and their families who eked out a living trapping and fishing in Labrador's wilderness. Labrador is similar in some respects to Alaska - it's cold, thinly populated and harsh. It's interior was one of the last unmapped spaces on the planet and was the subject of a disastrous mission to accomplish that in the early 1900's which has been chronicled in "lure of the labrador wild" and "Great Heart: The History of a Labrador Adventure" and Merrick truly appreciates the wild and primitive nature of the land. This book reads almost as well as any of the classics about Alaska such as "Coming into the Country" there's lot's of cold, encounters with natives, long nights with little food and the appreciation of a small primitive cabin and a warm fire. If you like this type of book and are looking for a Canadian/Newfoundland flavour this book is for you.

  • Don Robertson
    2019-05-04 06:04

    I read this book many years ago when my family was involved in wilderness canoe tripping; in fact I met the author at a canoe tripping symposium where he was a presenter. I loved it as much this time as that. The events described were as recent as my parents generation, and yet you can now drive to the area it took weeks of hardship to reach at that time, and a generation before that Leonidis Hubbard died of starvation exploring in the same area (Great Heart by Davidson and Rugge is a fictionalized version and is another wonderful read). Merrick's love of the land his reverence for these people is manifested in the poetic and evocative descriptions of landscape and lifestyle. I must declare myself somewhat of a hypocrite after a recent review of Jane Urquart's Away, wherein I criticized the "flowery" writing style, and yet here it just seems to fit. I think True North should be required reading.

  • Marvin
    2019-04-22 02:56

    A first-read win.Originally published in 1933, True North tells of Elliott Merrick's journey with his wife into the northern wilderness of Newfoundland as they spend a season with trappers. Merrick's accounting of this journey read much like Thoreau in his forsaking of the city to live a "simpler" life in the Canadian North. Yet, while the author rhapsodizes wilderness living he does writes realistically about its challenges and dangers. The detail in this memoir is amazing . Merrick catches both the environment and the day-to-day challenges with stunning vibrancy. This is a book that will be be enjoyed by fans of wilderness adventure, travel writing and historical aficionados for its capturing of a lifestyle of both trappers and Native Canadians that is probably endangered if not already extinct.

  • Dan
    2019-05-21 06:48

    I won this on LibraryThing Early Reviewers and I will post a review after I'm finished reading. I learned a lot from this book. The struggle to travel 300 miles through the dead of winter from one end of Labrador to the other was a brave excursion and the reader is along for the ride. Written as a journal, this memoir of the trail-blazing author, Elliot Merrick is a page turner and a very good read. Set from September 1930 to July 1931, it captures what it was like to live and depend on entirely off the land, and all the hardships it entailed. I recommend this to anyone who wants to read a good adventure and maybe learn something along the way.

  • Kay
    2019-05-07 05:54

    This is an amazing account of a journey during winter in Canada's Labrador area in 1929. Those of us who have grown up with our meat and vegetables packaged neatly in the grocery store have forgotten what a difficult struggle just procuring food used to be. I wish more people would read this book to help remind them of what we are at risk of losing if we do not begin to take care of the environment. Some habitats are already lost but there is still time to save others. My only wish is that the author had given more detailed descriptions of the wildlife- the vast flocks of various birds, schools of fishes and land mammals.

  • Aletha Tavares
    2019-05-13 05:54

    This book I got from http://www.herondance.org/. The site and paitings that come thru just make my day on the net. The book is so beautifully written that it is really poetry in prose. The landscape described makes me shiver with cold and I can smell the crisp air and feel the biting cold as Merrick talks about his journey there. To give up city life is not so easy and go and settle in outbacks of Labrador. I wish I could get a chance in this life to visit it at least. A dream i shall nurture....

  • Jed (John) Edwards
    2019-05-20 04:52

    Christopher recommended this to me. In about 1930 Merrick and his wife, in the full vigor of youth, repeatedly trudged upriver on snowshoes and finally got to the 'tilt' after dark to gather wood for the tin stove; interacted with the natives; had stamina competitions with Labradorean friends; and eschewed (at least temporarily) city life for a more elemental existence in nature (echoes of _Walden_). Merrick kept a journal, and _True North_ is the fascinating result.

  • Craig
    2019-05-08 02:48

    Most people have forgotten to stop and take time to observe and soak in the true beauty of nature. We have also become so "soft" that true mental and physical strength and toughness are no more than idle thoughts that occasionally cross our paths. This author and his wife, chose a path that puts them face to face with nature, but only if they paid the price of physical and mental endurance required. Very enjoyable read.

  • Diana
    2019-05-07 06:59

    Eloquent, well written. The beginning gives the reader a choice: Working the grind to secure secular comforts, or Escapism into a harsh landscape that demands sacrifice but offers true happiness. It delves into multiple worlds: Corporate society and its discontents; Educational: I didn't know a trapper's top priority was walking; Indian life and rituals; Newcomer's process of adaptation to the Wild. I would recomment this book for its Educational as well as its Entertainment Value.

  • Gayle
    2019-05-05 00:51

    I would like to pass along a passage from the last few pages of the book that really hit home for those of us living in remote areas....."Every day is our day, to make of what we will. There is no one to intrude and bring on an act of self-consciousness. If we wish to be alone and unharried by a million other people's noises and projects and lives, to work out our own, we can be.....".

  • Sharon
    2019-05-21 04:43

    I got this book as a Goodreads Giveaway.I have tried a couple times to read this book. Although I am interested in the subject, I find the book itself very hard to get interested in and stay focused on. The typeset is very small and tight, and it's just not comfortable for me to read more than a page at a time. This one is going to have to go back on my shelf to try again later.

  • Robert Davidson
    2019-05-10 02:00

    Vivid, portrayal of life in Labrador hunting and trapping. The Author's wife was one tough Lady to accompany the Trappers and share in the ordeal. Having hunted in Northern Alberta for many years i can appreciate the beauty of the North, however why would anyone want to live the life of a Trapper.

  • Sarah
    2019-04-27 06:53

    While not as strong as "Northern Nurse," "True North" still capture the untamed spirit of the Adventures of these outsiders to the Newfoundland outskirts and the life of a Trapper. Breathtakingly beautiful stories from the far ends of the world!

  • Linda Bentzen
    2019-05-05 03:59

    Interesting story of abandoning civilization and heading into the wilderness in the winter in 1931. How this couple survived is amazing.