The race began in typical Nation style with an early morning call from an almost hysterical colleague saying something about a brief but violent scuffle, cops at the door at four in the morning and a flight cancellation. After statements were taken and bruises nursed, The Nation team was ready to intercept the raiders.
Lebel-sur-Quévillon: You can’t escape the Macarena. The crowd lining the Prologue track was dancing the Macarena.
The music was blaring from the rent-a-dj’s van as the teams were lining up to do the Prologue. They even put in a water pit. So the Mistissini team, the first off the line, had to power their way through the water. The water had all drained by the time the third or fourth team that passed through, but the later teams had to contend with ruts dug deeper with each passing team. In the end, Senneterre won the Prologue with the Cree Trappers behind them by one second. The race started the following morning with three stages including Malartic, Lasarre and V.V.B. I kept asking who’s cousin lives in V.V.B. Why are we stopping in that town or whatever it is? I got my answer when we went into our host Raymond’s Garage/ Workshop. It was a whiskeychan’s paradise.
He had everything in that little shack. Every team had the same deal.
Day 3: The young Eastmain team of Mervin Cheezo, John Moses and Conrad Gilpin come in first into Waskaganish around 3:30 p.m., followed mere seconds later by Chapais. Chapais is favored by many to take first place overall. Mistissini arrives just behind Chapais and then nothing but silence towards the Nottaway River.
The racers gathered at the lodge for rest and refreshments. The locals gather in the restaurant and watch for late arrivals. Now and then there would be a rush to the windows when someone would give a false alarm with, “Ooooooh!” Larry, a local construction foreman, fooled many when he crossed the finish line with his new Bombardier. Other teams slowly arrived in hourly intervals.
Later we hear that only Waswanipi, Kuujjuaq and the team from France are still to finish this leg of the 3,000-kilometre Raid Des Braces, the world’s longest off-trail snowmobile race. Nobody’s sure about the situation of these teams. We hear Kuujjuaq has turned back to Matagami due to lack of cash for gas and getting misdirected by Raid officials. Waswanipi are stuck behind France who can’t get up a slippery river bank. They try to help but to no avail.
We later learn France fell through ice and had to spend the night in wet sleeping bags three hours from Waskaganish without tents. It takes four skidoos to pull out their too-heavy Yamaha, which they rented not long before the race. We learn they are considered rebels back home in France, where no one is allowed to ride on a snowmobile anywhere in the country except for people who need them for work on ski hills and such. They practice in secluded areas in the dead of night. The next day, the story of the “lost” French team is front-page news in France.
Back in Waskaganish, mechanics are busy tuning up the machines in garages, warehouses and even the firehall. Waswanipi runs out of gas on the trail and arrives only at 4 a.m. “We weren’t going to quit. We’re Native,” Waswanipi’s Don Saganash tells us later. The team gets a couple of hours of sleep and starts early the next day without losing points.
Day 4: Every team except France and Kuujjuaq line up at the starting line early on a bright cold morning with fastmain in front. The camera crew have their mike in someone’s face and ask a question. Not satisfied with the racer’s answer, the director tells him, “Say: ‘My ski-doo will…’” and the rest is drowned out by the noise. “My ski-doo will…” repeats the racer.
They are off and within minutes we see nothing but their trail of smoke. Flying over the bay we see a team and they are just specks in the landscape. Our plane lands in Eastmain just as either Wemindji or Chisasibi Trappers (both are driving Bombardiers) enter the village. France finally arrives in Waskaganish before noon and are still in the race. “They’ll be here by the spring,” says George, the local wit. “I’ll probably meet them when I go hunting this spring.” Comparisons between France and the Jamaican Bobsled Team are made on the flight to Wemindji.
Wemindji has entered a team for the first time. We tell the locals that their boys’ gas tank had been “sanded” by someone in a Lebel-sur-Quévillon garage. Their alert mechanics found out and fixed the problem. Why anyone would want to sabotage a rookie team was a mystery no one could answer. Finally, we land in Chisasibi where the teams will rest, eat and spend the night. Mistissini cross the finish line in Chisasibi first, followed by Eastmain. A banquet is held for the racers at the community centre and there is a dance afterwards.
Day 5: We are awakened by Gary, a mechanic for Team CSC of Chisasibi at five in the morning. Breakfast is at 6:30 a.m. Nobody but The Nation shows up on time. A crowd has gathered near the churches as snow machines are revved up and last minute checks done. One by one the teams take off for Whapmagoostui. This part of the raid is considered the more treacherous of the legs, where temperatures can dip below -50 degrees with wind chill. Not only that, there are jagged pieces of ice and rock in many spots near the windblown cape. Not to mention polar bears and caribou. Roy Snowboy of the Chisasibi Trappers seems to know the route well and is pointing it out on a map for another team.
The race to Great Whale begins with all teams starting on time save for Nemaska and France. Nemaska are having a hard time getting one of their machines started, while one member of the France team has misplaced his helmet and they need gas. They do not leave without a fight. France’s Aurillon Frederic comes racing to where his manager is standing near the finish line after Nemaska takes off and finds his frozen helmet which had been around all this time. He practically flies off his skidoo and gives his manager a tongue-lashing in almost-unintelligible French. “You asshole!!!’’ “C’est le bordelle!” (“This is a whorehouse!”), he screams. There it was—proof that they really are rude as the American sitcoms have been telling us all these years. The officials are not amused and unceremoniously wave them off.
As promised, we are driven by bus to the LG-2 airport for the flight to Whapmagoostui, always a step ahead of the racers. At the airport, things change. “You can’t get on,” someone tells us at the airport. The plane we are supposed to get on with a film crew is nowhere to be found. When it finally arrives three hours later, we are told “important” people have to get on. A sympathetic member of the film crew gives me her seat and we take off on Air Walter. Alex has to wait over five hours at the airport for the next flight.
We land in Kuujjuarapik (“not Great Whale, Alex—Kuujjuarapik!” an official had corrected us, unaware that the community has more than one name) in freezing weather and snow blowing fiercely across the mighty Great Whale River. No one but officials and the camera crew are at the finish line. A few trucks are parked at the bank of the river with the drivers warm inside.
We are busy trying to push a stuck Suburban up a slippery hill when Eastmain crosses the finish line. John Moses, racing for Team Eastmain, frantically gestures for directions to the clinic, but it is impossible to understand him through the wind, their roaring snowmobiles and his mask. He needed 12 stitches after his machine hit a bumpy patch and flipped over 25 miles out of Whapmagoostui. Bleeding profusely from his knee, John got back on his machine and kept going, nearly fainting twice from the pain. It took him 2 1/2 hours to get to town, but Eastmain still managed to finish sixth.
Willie Trapper from JBCCS and I check into “the Co-Op Motel near the airport. It is posh by northern standards. Not long after, we see Team France has made it to town and we head towards the airport. We see them seconds later going back the way they came from, obviously lost. The mechanics and a few journalists arrive at 6:30 p.m. I kid Alex that even France made it here before he did.
There is a banquet at the community hall with pizza and sandwiches on the menu. A cake is on display decorated with a skidoo and rider as its centerpiece. Elder Andrew Natachequan is introduced and sings two songs on his drum. He advises the racer to be cautious when they leave the next day and shares some wisdom with them. The skidoo is fast, he says, but if it breaks down in the bush you’re in trouble. Snowshoes are slower, but they don’t ever break down. Andrew said Crees honour everything in Creation. Later, community members line up to shake the hands of all the guests. Gifts made by the community’s women are given out by Chief Matthew Mukash. Several miniature handmade snowshoes are the first to go as the teams take turns choosing their gifts. During his welcoming address, Chief Mukash apologizes to the chairman of the Raid Des Braves, Don Murphy, before talking about why the Crees opposed the Great Whale Hydro Project. We find out later that Murphy is also the president of SDBJ, and many of the organizers are SDBJ employees. Two Hydro-Quebec employees are also present during the entire Raid, on hand to give the right spin to the journalists.
Later at the motel, one racer is locked out of his room by his teammates and he’s wearing only a pair of blue longjohns. At the top of many participants’ itinerary was a visit to the social club so we rush over to cover the story. At the social club a journalist comments that he liked Mukash’s speech but said more tact would have been better. He doesn’t understand what lengths a people will go to protect their river. He drunkenly suggests to me that I would be well-suited for a job advising the chiefs. If only he had followed the recent election.
Last call is called at 11:30 p.m. and I’m a few minutes late but I give it a try and sidle up to the bar to order two more. “Too late,” the bartender tells me. I tell him my watch is a bit slow so he gives me two more. Alex goes up for a few more but his negotiating skills aren’t as finely honed as mine so he contents himself with finishing the rest of his now-almost-warm Molson Dry. People start to file out reluctantly around midnight while we sit ignoring the polite staff’s requests to leave. Finally, we surrender and practically squeeze the few remaining drops of beer from our cans before walking in the freezing cold to our motel down the hill, where we pass out almost immediately.
Day 6: We miss the start and breakfast completely the next morning and rush to secure places on the flight to Radisson. There are the usual delays and uncertainties when Alex doesn’t make it on the roll call for the flight. “I don’t know if you can get on,” we are told once again. His negotiating strengths multiply in airports so he makes it on the plane with time to spare, where it turns out there are seven empty seats. We talk to the Team Chapais mechaniciens. They have six members on their team and have $60,000 invested in this race. “Our secret is good relations with everybody in the team,” confesses one of the Chapais boys.
After a quick hop to Radisson, we are bussed to Auberge Radisson. The racers are scheduled to arrive around four, just past the spillway 10 kilometres away. Out of nowhere a Hydro-Quebec employee tells Willie Trapper, “Billy, next time I ask you a question, tell me the truth.” He had asked the Cree journalist at LG-2 airport if there had been anybody left in Great Whale who might arrive later. “There was nobody at the airport,” answered Willie, who didn’t like being given other people’s responsibilities.
The bus is scheduled to leave at 3:30 p.m. for the finish line, but we don’t trust anybody at this point so we hitch a ride with Earl and Madeline from Chisasibi. Reports on their CB radio say the racers are very close. Madeline is scheduled to do a report on a satellite phone to Chisasibi. Their communications system seems to be better than the race’s organizers, who have no way of talking to the two rented choppers. The CB crackles that the Chisasibi Trappers have arrived first. A large crowd is gathered around the first-place finishers while their sleds are inspected by Raid officials. They are required to have several key items whenever they cross a finish line: a thermos with hot liquid, matches, an axe, a survival kit and a first-aid kit. Without them, points are taken off. Later when another team arrives, a young Cree member of one of the teams stands vigilantly by the officials muttering almost to himself, “Watch them, watch them, jigitcheatoowidge wash.”
A lone member of Team Chapais crosses the finish line pointing behind him with an empty gasoline tank in his lap. He is quickly back off with a refill for his teammates, who had run out of gas. All three racers of each team must finish before full points are awarded. Not long after, another loner stops on the hill overlooking the final stretch into Radisson. He sits there for minutes. As I get closer his team mates come around the corner and they all take off before I can ask them anything or snap a photo. Most spectators leave as the sun sets and the temperature drops.
Over dinner, we have a good laugh when a journalist “who knows the president of Hydro-Quebec” informs us that every Cree man, woman and child gets a cheque for $1,00 each week. Neil protests, but this guy is from another planet, “just ask Billy,” he suggests. “He knows about it.” We excuse ourselves from the table and later watch Billy on TV getting his Aboriginal Lifetime Achievement Award. “Where’s my $400?” Neil calls to the TV. We head over to the Boreale Bar and it is full of Crees, mostly youth from all over. We collect a few UFO facts and head back to the “Auberge.”
Day 7: Finally, Neil is allowed a ride on one of the helicopters. It is mild and snowing—the only day of the nine-day Raid with any snow. Terrible for aerial photos. The pilot looks like he’s spent time in Vietnam and flies like he did. He takes quick turns and dives that make the flight-inexperienced nauseous. Nearly 130 kilometres out of Radisson by the transmission line, several teams have gathered. “Nobody wants to make the trail,” one of them says. They ask each other for cigarettes and joke between themselves. Chapais decides to break the trail and heads off in the deep snow.
A few minutes later the chopper lands by a creek crossing the power lines and wait. Finally, we see coloured headlights. It is Chapais. One of them crosses the creek with no problem. The one with the sled follows and gets stuck. The team pushes but the sled and machine won’t budge. Even the official tries to help push them out, as five or six teams wait on the opposite side. The sled doesn’t move so they use the chopper to lift it out. We land at Kilometre 381. After a brief stop here, the racers will continue toward Nemaska some three hours away. For some reason France is to leave first. They get no farther than the first stand of trees before they make a wrong turn. It’s going to be a long ride.
It is dark when the chopper lands in Nemaska. Some people have been waiting since early afternoon and mill about looking towards 381. It is late and no one knows where the racers are. The freshly fallen snow delays everybody. Later, it is reported that Mistissini makes it in first. Another banquet is held in the school gym. Someone says France had yet another mishap and one of them is hurt. The lead French rider rode into a ditch on the trail and got stuck. As he tried to pull it out, one of his teammates came along and landed his massive Yamaha on top of the first snowmobile, almost breaking his buddy’s ribs.
That evening, tempers are flaring in the garage where the mechanics are hard at work most of the night, like every night, to make sure the machines are running the next day. The race is especially hard on the mechanics, who have to travel all day and work all night, with only a few hours of sleep in between. This night, a racer from Chisasibi is angry at someone from Team Radisson who knocked into his machine and cut him off earlier in the day, almost sending him flying into a tree. A complaint is considered, but Raid organizers tell us little can be done if there are no official witnesses.
It is in Nemaska that we notice the latest fashion craze sweeping Iyiyuuschii. Yellow jackets with black trimmings. We ask ourselves if it is merely a coincidence that this trend first appeared after The Nation’s Fashion Supplement last summer, which featured someone wearing a yellow jacket.
Day 8: Again, we miss another start and hop on the bus for the ride to Mistissini on the Route Du Nord. Neil gets a second chance for a ride in the chopper, this time on a clear day, but there is little time given for more photos and the whirly bird heads for Mistissini. There, we see most certainly the largest reception waiting for the “Raid” we have witnessed so far. The atmosphere is almost festive as powerful snowmobiles speed back and forth on the lake. Three kids are buzzing around the crowd in their mini snowmobiles made up to look like the real racers, complete with sled and supplies. People find warmth and refreshments in several teepees and tents in the culture camp. There is moose, beaver, hot tea and coffee for sale. Mistissini’s Pimpichuu team comes in triumphantly in first place into their home community, followed by Chapais and Nemaska.
We hear about another mishap with Team France: On their way to Mistissini, one of them crashed into a tree. The race is scheduled to start again early the next morning for the final stretch through Ouje-Bougoumou, Chapais and to the final finish line in Chibougamau.
Day 9: Almost everyone leaves on time, that is to say Raid Des Braves time, and heads towards Ojay several hours away. Conditions seem favourable for the day’s ride in the bush and the racers are expected to finish without problems. Who’s it going to be? people wonder—Mistissini or Chapais. Mistissini leads by 50 points, but everybody knows anything can happen in a race like this. We learn that the previous day Mistissini’s Larry MacLeod had taken a spill and twisted his leg, making the final stretch even more of a battle.
We have to wait several hours for our answer and catch the bus again after breakfast to the town of Chibougamau one hour away. A crowd slowly gathers at Camp A Jos a few minutes ride from Chibougamau. We hear one of the Mistissini machines is in trouble with a piston problem and might have to be hauled in, costing the team the title. A team that doesn’t finish one of the stages of the race gets a 50-point penalty. Chapais is doing well, someone says, but no one seems to be sure. “It got scary,” Mistissini mechanic Stanley Neeposh remembers later. Finally, the chopper flies in and brings word that it is Mistissini, Chapais and Nemaska in front. A huge crowd is assembled at the finish line. The racers have to put on a show before they cross the finish line, following a carefully marked bumpy trail that twists and turns.
A roar comes from over a hill and the crowd strains for a better look. It is Mistissini Pimpichuu led by Larry MacLeod. Chapais finishes second overall and then Nemaska. Capissisit of the Nemaska team wipes out seconds after crossing the finish line and the crowd reacts. He is quickly up and unhurt to join his team. Minutes later, a lone Chisasibi trapper comes over the hill and stops just around the final turn for the finish. He curses. He thought his team was right behind him. He calls to his road team, “Where are they? F**k!” His team yells back, “Co back and get them!” He turns back and returns minutes later with another member. “What happened to you?!?” he asks loudly, just feet from the finish. Another roar from the trail and it is their team mate just behind another team. Chisasibi finishes.
Later on in the chalet where $50,000 in prizes are about the be handed out, Larry is the picture of happiness. “Wonderful, man—great,” he says when asked how he feels. “I’ve been waiting for this for the last four years.” He wants to thank his team, supporters and God. “I’d like to thank all the Crees,” he adds. “They did help out a lot. Chapais helped out too. Actually everybody helped out each other a lot. It was great doing this race. Everybody gets along—white and Native. There were some pretty good teams this year. I was impressed.” Pimpuchuu’s secret? ’’Stay calm, just race with my head,” says Larry. “We didn’t push too hard this year so the mechanics wouldn’t have too much work. It’s enough that they have to check everything else.” He has a special thank-you for his parents: “The people who supported me the most were my parents. They were there almost the whole race.”
The Nation would like to thank: Ella Faries, the Hubleys of Waskaganish, Ricky Mark, the Webbs of Chisasibi, John Tapiatic, Jimmy Sam, Sherman Herodier, William Petagumskum and Son, Andrew and Maggie Natachequan, the Boreale Bar, Willie (“Trap “) Trapper, Louise and Michel of TWT, 118, Thomas Jolly, Margaret Diamond, Beulah Stewart, Roger Orr, Jean-Paul Beauregard, Dominique Sarrazin, “Dr. Jimmy” of Chisasibi, Earl and Madeline Iserhoff, Hydro-Quebec for the nifty helmet (makes a great ash tray), John of Chisasibi for the film, Deantha Edmunds and Darren for beds, pizza and licorice, Rhonda for the lovely fax (I luv u 2), Vickie for waiting through Valentine’s Day, however impatiently, all the teams, the wild chopper pilot. And the Raid.
Raid Des Braves whodunit
Who are the people behind the Raid Des Braves? Why do they do it? What do they get out of it?
We kept asking ourselves these questions during the “Raid” until we learned, almost by accident, that the chair of the race is also the president of the Société de développement de Baie James, Don Murphy.
The SDBJ puts an enormous amount of time and resources into this race, but why? Don was with the race the whole nine days, along with at least three or four other SDBJ employees, a platoon of security guards from the Municipalité de Baie James (which is affiliated with the SDBJ) and two Hydro-Quebec employees.
One Cree source we spoke to said the Raid is part of Quebec’s strategy of “occupying the North,” which is important especially in case the province separates from Canada. “It allows Quebec to claim it occupies the North. And it softens the Crees for other development,” he said. “It has to do with the creation of ’Radissonie.’ It’s not Iyiyuuschii any more—it’s Radissonie. To me, this is all part and parcel of a strategy.”
Don Murphy doesn’t hide his plans. He has a vision. A message. “Now that the hydro projects are finished, at the SDBJ we’re there to promote other economies. Forestry is limited. Mining has good potential. For Native people, there is a good future is mining,” he says.
The Raid is not just a race, “but also a message,” says Don. “We want to sell the North as a real part of Quebec to the rest of Canada and the world—as a territory where three ethnies live in harmony, together and have projects together. We want to show the modern side of the North with Natives implicated in real jobs.” What are real jobs? “Mining, forestry, tourism.”
So that’s why we see Chantiers Chibougamau, Barrette Chapais, Cambior, Hydro-Quebec and the Troilus Mine on the list of Raid sponsors.
“We want to create confidence” between Natives and non-Natives, Don adds. ”I think the worst problem we have is we don’t trust each other. Myself, I am going this week to all the communities to build that confidence.
Overall Results Raid Des Braves ‘97
1. Pimpichuu Teamo f Mistissini #24 (2455 pts.) Prizes: $16,000
2. Barette-Prolab-Chapais #3 (2410) $9,000
3. Team Nemaska #22 (2280) $6,000
4. Team Hurricane de Senneterre #16 (2245) $3,000
5. Chisasibi Cree Trapper Team #8 (2200) $2,000
6. Eastmain Team #15 (2140)
7. Métal Marquis-La Sarre #25 (2135)
8. Team of Waswanipi #7 (1995)
9. Wemindji Team #19 (1940)
10. Chisasibi Team CSC #10 (1865)
11. Team Radisson #35 (1750)
12. France #10 (1310)
13. Team Kuujjuaq #14 (0)
14. Équipe d’Ungava (0)
