The logging camps of yore

I’m a lumberjack and I’m okay! 

What’s cookin’?

One building in particular had the power to make or break the camp’s reputation: the cookhouse! Since logging was generally reserved for the male members of the population, logging camps were typically devoid of women, with the exception of one: the foreman’s wife . The meal quality could certainly be said to have made the men drool... especially at dinnertime. A camp’s standing often depended closely on its cook and the ability to keep the men—and their stomachs—happy.

Twice-turned lice

A visit to the bunkhouse makes the rigours of camp life all too easy to imagine. Deep in the forest, bugs are legion, which meant that the camps were invariably infested with lice. At bedtime, the only remotely effective way of dealing with the pests was to turn your clothes inside out. If you managed to fall asleep before the lice could work their way back through the fabric, you might get a good night’s rest. All in all, a logger had a pretty hard time sleeping like a... log!

Saturday night fever 

Your guide explains that, while camp life was hard, the loggers also knew how to play. Each Saturday night, the eve before Sunday’s day of rest, they enjoyed games of skill like arm-wrestling, sang songs and told stories. Great Québec legends like the Chasse-galerie (“bewitched canoe”—see box) were born of those nights. However, none of the fun was fuelled by alcohol, since drinking was strictly forbidden. No boozing in the bush! span>

Lumberjack Idol

One of the many anecdotes related by your guide: each night, the foreman, like a holiday camp activity leader, would announce each man’s performance. Those who cut the most trees were congratulated, while the others endured the taunts of their peers. But no man was let go—and anyone who deserted risked being fined, or even sent to jail! At any rate, nobody was paid until the end of winter...

The log-driver’s waltz

The job of log driving was the logical step for many loggers at the end of winter. Visit the drivers’ cabin and imagine yourself on the Saint-Maurice, stepping from floating log to floating log (often called pitounes—see box), trying to prevent logjams. The job, which required great agility, was extremely dangerous. Besides the risk of hypothermia, it was common for limbs to be crushed or blown off, since dynamite was sometimes used to break up the logjams. The thrills of log driving can be experienced today, albeit in a much safer form: whitewater rafting! Unlike the legend, your vessel probably won’t take to the skies; but you will fly through the water.

Still not out of the woods...

...even though you’re in the city. Just a few kilometres from the Grande Piles museum, the Old Port of Trois-Rivières harbours the Exhibition Centre on the Pulp and Paper Industry (CEIPP), which provides another window into this action-packed métier. In seeing the other side of the coin—which is to say, pulp and paper production—you’ll gain a better understanding of the work carried out by the loggers. The economics of the trade are lavishly explained on many museum panels.

Elsewhere in Québec

In the Outaouais region, home to Jos Montferrand, the most famous lumberjack in the Americas (see box), the Canadian Museum of Civilization has reproduced a logging camp. Over in Abitibi, the city of La Sarre has a Centre d’interprétation en foresterie that, each summer, offers complete tours of a logging camp as it was in the 1930s. On the agenda: replicas of camp interiors, themed tableaux, forestry tools and a maquette of a sawmill. 

With all of these anecdotes and legends, there’s no doubt about it: visiting a logging camp is a journey into Québec’s mythical past. You’ll find that learning the colourful language, lifestyle and ways of the loggers is as easy as... falling off a log!