#firstnationstechnology

My mom's Saguenay forest property. (yes, I am jealous).

vs. My Citadel Hill snow, meh.

We had a sticky, wet snowfall this week; the first of winter! It's sadly always too mild in Nova Scotia to properly go snowshoeing, but it's an activity I have fond memories of. I used to snowshoe in the Girl Guides, and with my parents and grandparents on the trail. I always admired the traditionally-made snowshoes, made of birch or ash, sinewed with gut string and leather. A traditional pair looks lovely hung on the wall!

So, to bond with my love of snowshoes and to nurture that little bit of homesickness, here's my take on using snowshoes in my own folk practice.

Learning from those that make snowshoes

Note: traditional snowshoe making is a time-honoured and cultural knowledge passed down through generations among many First Nations. As I am not from a First Nation, I won't be sharing that process here, as it's not my place to share within a cultural knowledge context.

Photo: Bearpaw Snowshoes, made my Manian Ashini Michel and Shimun Michel, of Sheshatshiu, held by the Peenamin MacKenzie School collection, catalog # pm26. https://tipatshimuna.ca/material-culture/snowshoes-two-bar-bearpaw/. Visit this website for a gorgeous cultural sharing of these particular snowshoes and stories from Innu elders.

From "Fur Trade Stories"

"Each First Nations group had its own particular way of making snowshoes. 

The designs and shapes were adapted to various types of snow and use. For instance, among some groups of northern Cree, up to five styles were known. Some shapes are named after the characteristics of animals and birds such as “beaver tail”, “bear paw” and “swallow tail”. 

The "bear paw style" was used with the first snow, and the "swallow tail" was favoured during November and December and again in March and April when the snow was heavy and granular. The pointed-toe snowshoe was used on well-travelled trails in the forests."

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Photo: my grandmother's farm fields in January 2026.

Experiencing the harsh and deep winters in northern Quebec, my forest-guide ancestor no doubt used snowshoes for his daily treks as he was guiding hunters and trappers in the Laurentian bush. He absolutely would have used them to get to the Lake Mistassini, where he went often. Many parts of the Laurentian mountains receive about 11 feet of snow per season. Anyone who walks in snow gets to understand different snow textures and qualities with time. You know when to walk like a penguin, or when to carefully step over hidden holes. In the fur trade, they were an essential piece of equipment to secure your survival while overwintering in the forts and across country.

Nowadays, I am on the hunt for a pair of traditional birch/ash and sinew snowshoes of my own. I'd like to write prayers and sigils on them (waterproofing them of course), and take them into the snowy woods for walking meditation. Whenever I snowshoe, it's a slower pace, and your body exerts a bit of an unusual step, making you work a bit. It's a great tool then to get attuned with your body, it's physical activity, and of slowly and deliberately walking the earth. It's also a meditative way I'd like to connect through my body with my forest-roaming ancestors, both Innu and settler.

I'm going to try to find a traditional style made from local artisans or small businesses that have been doing it for a while. GV snowshoes, co-founded with Antoine Gros-Louis, from the Huron-Wendat community, produces them in Quebec. They make a variety of traditional styles! https://www.gvsnowshoes.com/en

Bonus: my dad snowshoeing in the Saguenay woods recently, and they found an immense tree wall of snow.

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