Strong Currents, Stronger Women

At the very edge of the map, where the land is wide and the sky seems to go on forever, a small group of girls stepped off a plane and into the Arctic summer. There were no roads, no cell service, no familiar comforts — only tundra, wind, and a sun that refused to set.

From the very beginning, the Arctic asked something of them. It taught them the language of wind and weather, the quiet power of teamwork, and the courage it takes to cross intimidating, frigid rivers. Confidence grew in small, shining moments — pitching a tent against the wind, spotting a distant caribou, standing still long enough to hear the land breathe. In a place that felt vast and untamed, they discovered their own resilience. Val Bares, one of the guides on the trip, shared, “Every day we were stunned and amazed by the landscape around us. We had reports from previous trips, but it was still all unknown and truly amazing to experience this together.”

When the journey ended, they carried the Arctic home with them: a sense of wonder, a belief in their own strength, and the magic of knowing they belonged to something vast and beautiful. They carried it home in tangible ways, too — photos, a shared group journal, individual journals, and rocks and bones.

Who made the journey

The group included campers Addie, Iris, Maddie, and Phoebe, guided by Ava and Val. All six were experienced YMCA Camp Menogyn campers, and for Ava and Val, this marked their fifth year as guides — bringing deep knowledge, steady leadership, and a shared respect for the land and the profound experience.

Together, they embarked on a Femmes du Nord expedition, Menogyn’s extended Arctic journey for women campers (with a parallel Hommes du Nord experience for men). These trips are as much about preparation and intention as they are about distance traveled.

Preparing for the Arctic

The application process began in the fall, with acceptance letters sent in January. From there, the group had six months to prepare. That time was spent getting to know one another through group meetings, discussing personal and shared trip goals, planning meals, and mapping their route.

For the guides, preparation meant building a detailed timeline and navigating a web of permits, flights, routes, and logistics. As with every Menogyn expedition, the group kept a journal throughout the journey — filled with stories, weather observations, route notes, and reflections meant to guide future travelers. These journals are practical resources, but they are also something more: a thread connecting each group to those who traveled before them.

Life on the river

For 51 days, the group carried everything they needed — every tent pole, paddle, and scrap of food — from the Coppermine River all the way to the Arctic Ocean. Before boarding the plane, the six of them and their gear tipped the scale at a collective 5,258 pounds.

The weather, they joked, “was either windy or buggy.” Warm days gave way to cold nights, even though the sun never truly set. One especially brutal five-day stretch tested everyone’s patience, as relentless black flies made even the simplest tasks miserable. “I’ve seen some bugs,” Ava said, “but these were awful.”

Still, the group pressed on — paddling, portaging, and learning to adapt to whatever the Arctic offered that day.

What they carried

What made the journey work was how each person brought something essential to the group.

Val’s rock knowledge helped decode the land beneath their feet. Phoebe’s bird knowledge — and her talent for building systems — gave structure to camp life. Iris became the dedicated finder of things, collecting bones and rocks. Ava kept the group fed and entertained, catching fish from the river and pulling out her guitar when morale needed a lift. Addie was the fixer and crafter, making routines feel grounding rather than rigid. Maddie documented the experience through art, capturing moments that might otherwise have slipped by unnoticed. Val shared, “We were all excited to learn together and share our knowledge with each other.”

Together, they ate from the land — fresh fish and handfuls of lingonberries — and proved themselves capable of doing hard things, without believing that hard automatically meant bad. Joy, for them, was intentional.

The Menogyn Way, carried on

Long after the river widened into the Arctic Ocean and the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the lessons of this journey remain. Experiences like Femmes du Nord don’t happen by accident; they are the result of decades of care, tradition, and a special community that believes young people grow strongest when trusted with real responsibility. At Menogyn, alumni support makes space for these kinds of transformative experiences, where confidence is earned, leadership is lived, and connection — to self, to others, and to the natural world — takes root. Each generation builds the path for the next, and somewhere at the edge of the map, a new group of campers is already learning what it means to be capable, resilient, and deeply at home in the world.

The art of journaling 

At the end of each day, the women spent time writing in their personal journals and the group trip journal. Maddie shared, “It was most important to write about logistics and routes. Future Arctic groups could use this writing to help with their trip on the same river. Talking about our daily route sets the framework for each journal entry. As we talked about the route we accomplished that day, we noted helpful tips such as which side of the river we pulled off for a certain set, and the plan we made for paddling a patch of white water. We also noted fun things, such as what we had for breakfast and dinner (lunch is always the same), and beautiful wildlife we saw!” 

Journaling on a long trip turns the travel experience into something tangible you can carry home. This kind of daily writing record captures a snapshot in time — the way the air felt that day, the worry that kept circling your mind, the small pocket of joy you didn’t yet realize was important. It preserves not just where you went or how far, but also how the trip changed and impacted you along the way. 

Long after the bags are unpacked, those pages hold the rhythm of the journey, letting you step back into the movement, the wonder, and the version of yourself who was still becoming.

In that way, journaling is a quiet act of preservation: it holds the magic of ordinary days, the turning points, and the in-between moments that would otherwise disappear, reminding us not just of what happened, but of who we were and how far we’ve come.

Day 38

Today was beautiful, exciting, and exhausting. We woke up to a beautiful morning and a view of the sandstone cliffs. We ate egg McMuffins for breakfast and enjoyed our coffee. I finished reading “A Man Called Ove” and spent all of breakfast crying because I felt so touched by the book — a silly way to start the day. 

We packed up camp and loaded the boats, keeping the bow spray skirts attached. Spent a moment admiring the slabs of sandstone rapids. We pod ran slowly, pulling off to look ahead when possible. This set us up well for that first right-hand bend in the sandstone. 

We pulled off on a gravel bar and scouted the section right around the bend. We picked a pretty straightforward-looking line along the right shore and planned to ferry across the river to get ourselves up to be inside the next bend. We ran this section post-scout and quickly discovered that the waves were much bigger than expected, and it was very challenging to stay on the line and ferry to the left shore. 

One boat took on too much water; they had to pull off on the right shore, bail, then ferry across. All boats took on quite a bit of water, and we were grateful to have made it through upright. Definitely a learning moment for us on our limits — no more rapids like that for us. 
The right shore seemed more suitable for portaging than the left (the left also looked un-paddleable). We took time to eat some treats and re-group before continuing on. We ran the left shore and pulled off shortly after rounding the bend. We were feeling pretty tired, so we lined our boats a little further down shore due to how shady it was, and then... (journal page ends)

Eternally meaningful: traveling the same path, yet a half century apart

In September 2025, Claudia McBride, interim executive director of the Listening Point Foundation in Ely, Minn., reached out to YMCA Camp du Nord, asking for help with hiking trail maintenance. A school group was at camp to volunteer for the week — Maddie Linstad, freshly off her Arctic Femmes du Nord trip, was part of the school group, along with her mom, Casey Gunderson. 

While working, small talk between Claudia and Casey led them to connect some surprising dots about Maddie’s — and Claudia’s — YMCA Camp Menogyn experiences. As it turns out, Claudia and Maddie shared far more than just a common connection to camp; the two women had actually gone on the same Femmes du Nord route through the Arctic — Claudia in 1973, Maddie in 2025. 

Maddie

"It was an instant connection,” shared Maddie, “and it couldn’t have come at a better time in my life. I had returned from my trip in late August, and I met Claudia in September. I was still trying to process my experience. I was trying to figure out how to take this trip with me. Claudia answered that question, reiterating that it’s not over, even though the trip is over. I know this experience will be with me always.”

Claudia

For Claudia, she felt her and Maddie “bonded immediately,” going on to say, “we were so excited to ask each other questions. Our trips were 53 years apart, but so much of what we both experienced was the same. When I was young, I questioned myself about why I wanted to do unconventional things. It was hard to be that way during that time. I felt invisible. The trip made me feel like I could do anything I put my mind to. Not many people have that experience. It was a privilege. It’s such a relief to see people like Maddie do things without limitation. She is so confident and has the support of the school and society. I wish I’d had that.”

Both women agreed that meeting each other was a connection that meant a lot to both of them.