portage dog wrote on Jan 19
th, 2025 at 10:05am:
Looking at today's pic of beaver downed pine reminds me of all of the pines, cedar, spruce, name-your-evergreen that over the years, I've seen gnawed on by the industrious rodent engineers and said WTF? Is it a blind beaver, did he lose his sense of smell/taste from COVID? Did he lose a bet, was it a double dog dare? Was he trying to use it as a push tree to get the aspen next to it on the ground? Does anyone know, honestly, why a beaver would chew up a pine? I'm curious if there's any reasonable explanation. There's enough knowledge and experience in the QJ crowd that someone should know. And I'm anticipating being entertained by Jimbo's reply.
pd
The answer is remarkably simple. This was the site of a "beaver bash." They were preparing to feast on "pine tree liquor" (see:
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While less common in boreal forests than in Alpine meadows, where you DO encounter this phenomenon up north the resulting carnage can be quite significant. In fact, voyageur "rendezvous's" in days of yore were originally patterned off of inebriated beaver colonies which had run amuck on pine liquor. Crazed, drunken voyageurs half-dressed in linen shirts, wool caps, and brightly embroidered leggings would race up to each other and mimic the buck-toothed woodland rodents by gnawing at each others' arms & legs while singing a French song, the title of which translates as "Bite Me!" These festivities lasted as long their supply of the pine liquor spirits did. The debauchery only petered out when those spirits were exhausted. Before that ever happened, however, some of these deranged woodsmen would inevitably attack the "stone pine" trees themselves. Back in the late 19th century, woodland archaeologists would scour the more renown rendezvous sites and make clay impressions of the fossilized human chomp marks found in the very oldest of the fabled stone pine trees.
These iconic marks have, of course, long since vanished as the aging forests decayed. Only the clay "denture-like" moldings/impressions remain. However, I've been informed that, in recent decades, this ancient ritual was briefly resurrected - if only just for a few years - by certain parties sipping elixir of a similar origin. Like the beverage of old it, too, was distilled from pine. It was bottled for a while, then distributed in what became known as "phantom jugs." I'm told that some of these jugs were buried in the wilds but
still exist (one, for sure, is hidden on an island in Baird Lake while others are rumored to be hidden around Cirrus Lake and maybe on those No Names just north of the lower tier of Quetico Lake).
As a great fan of Quetico history, I, myself, will go on a quest in search of these legendary artifacts this upcoming paddling season. It will be a worthy quest. In any case, I expect even richer versions of such Quetico lore to be shared across our campfires. With some luck and perseverance, a legendary magical jug may appear... and, certainly, much "Bushwhacker Balladeering" and uninhibited dancing may ensue.
Feel free to join us. Interested parties should feel free to inquire.
Please be advised that we draw the line at tree-biting, however. We tolerate none of that nonsense. Even we must preserve some standards.
Later,
Jimbo
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