Beautiful British Columbia (Part II)

From our B&B's porch in Valemount after a day of rain.

Vancouver on a perfect summer day

Downtown Vancouver as seen from the Seawall

The view from our tent on Salt Spring Island

Doug getting ready to snorkel off Salt Spring Island

We found a new friend on the hiking trail...

Beautiful British Columbia (and Washington State)!

Some shots from a recent road trip from Edmonton, Alberta through to BC and WA (and back):

From there we drove east to North Cascades National Park, stopping for a permit at the park office. Then we did the 30 min hike through temperate rainforest to Thunder camp site.

In the middle of mountains and under the canopy of trees, darkness fell fast. I got a fire going and whittled a marshmallow stick while Doug got dinner made and rigged up the backpack so that we could string it up the tree when we went to bed. It is bear country, after all!

Flying High in Yellowknife

Last weekend I was lucky enough to be in Yellowknife, NWT for the Midnight Sun Float Plane Fly-In doing research for my book on northern Canadian aviation history. Here’s a little photo album from this amazing event:

After a great meet-and-greet on Friday night and a pancake breakfast Saturday morning hosted by the Piro family, I boarded a Buffalo Airways Douglas DC-3 along with 20-odd other passengers for an aerial tour of YK.

Our pilot was “Buffalo” Joe McBryan (below) himself, and co-piloting the aircraft was Tyler Sipos. And of course they have a few good luck charms, like this polar bear I’m holding.

I guess I behaved okay (and didn’t get airsick), because he then invited me to join him, his granddaughter, and the director/videographer of Ice Pilots NWT for a trip down memory lane for a 50th anniversary special. Up we went in the Norseman again, this time bound for Gordon Lake.

There was no sleeping in the next day for me, though, as I had an interview lined up at 8:30am with a local aviation legend. Then at 9:30am I was back in Joe’s orange jeep headed to his dock in preparation for the bush pilot memorial fly-by.

After a bbq lunch it was tour time at the Buffalo hangar, where I got to see Joe’s office just full of aviation history books, photos, and even a motorcycle!

Sunday night was the wrap-up banquet and auction. My new friend from Cold Lake, Terry, gallantly bid my book up to $100 – so I thought he deserved a kiss to go with it!

After the banquet, some of us wanted to keep chatting – and I didn’t want to miss out on any good stories! Next thing I knew it was 1am (hard to tell by the photo below, eh?)

Monday after a big day doing research at the archives (in the Prince of Wales Northern Heritage Centre), I was invited to a friend’s house for supper. Then we set off for a short hike at Cameron Falls – at 9pm!

But when you’re in the land of the Midnight Sun, the days really do go on forever… I think the memories will too!

Berton House Top Ten

It’s that time of year. The time of year when magazines, tv shows, internet sites, and everyone else make top ten lists. So I will too. About my time up north (although it’s very hard to pick just ten!).

Here they are in no particular order:

1. Working, reading, watching tv, chatting, and napping at Berton House on the sectional snuggled up in the HBC blanket.

2. Experiencing ice fog in minus 40-degree weather in Dawson. Yep, I’m a little strange.

3. Doing the sourtoe cocktail with friends at the Dowtown bar in Dawson.

4. Going curling in Inuvik and hanging out in the curling club post-game. Best place in town on a Friday night!

5. Hiking up Dome Mountain in Dawson in December – and then sliding down on my backside!

6. Finding out I had family in Whitehorse and getting to spend great times with them. Thanks so much, Judy, Bruce, Ben, and Charlie!

7. Hanging out at Bombay Peggy’s and being there for close-down on November 10th!

8. Doing old-timey portraits with the gals in Dawson: Easy-laine, Diamond Tooth Sandy, and Jailbait Jenny. Oh yeah, and I’m Dawson Dani (the one with the gun).

9. Visiting Old Crow and getting to attend a community feast. Such a friendly town and glad I got the chance to go twice!

10. Skagway, AK in September: delicious food, good hiking, and seeing that the Sarah Palin store actually exists!

Yukon Reads and Writes!

I’ve met some neat writers, historians, and storytellers during my time in the Yukon and I wanted to share some of their 2010 works with you (while I sit in the Whitehorse airport awaiting my flight home to Edmonton!):

1. Michael Gates’ History Hunting in the Yukon is a collection of essays from this local historian and researcher. I got to meet Michael and his wife Kathy at their home last week… their Yukon history library is drool-worthy!

2. Claire Eamer’s Lizards in the Sky is a great science-y book for kids about animals in unexpected places (ice worm, anyone?).

3. John Firth’s One Mush: Jamaica’s Dogsled Team is about the only Caribbean dog musher to complete the Yukon Quest, the 1000-mile journey from Fairbanks, AK to Whitehorse, YT. I heard him on the radio and it sounds like researching and writing this book was quite interesting!

4. Tor Forsberg’s North of Iskut is a memoir about the writer’s voyage of self-discovery (and survival) in Iskut, B.C. in the 1970s.

5. Gus Karpes’ Tales from the Lake is a series of vignettes about experiences on Lake Laberge. On a personal note: Thanks, Gus and Irene for getting me my copy of Arctic Dreams so efficiently!

6. Clea Robert’s poetry collection, Here is Where We Disembark, is drawn directly from the life – present and past – in the Yukon.

Hike on Dome Mountain

With a week till I leave Dawson and the temperature at a balmy -15 Celsius, I decided yesterday I would climb Dome Mountain one more time.

I’d climbed the Dome twice before. Once with Doug when we first arrived in the Yukon in late September. It was -10 degrees, sunny, and there was just enough snow to make the powerline trail treacherous. The second time was late October. That time I took the road, which was slick, and didn’t bring any snacks or water. An hour and a half in I decided to pack it in. But I memorized all the shortcuts…

This time I was prepared and had a plan. With a thermos of hot chocolate and snacks in my backpack, dressed in layers, with a lightweight hat/gloves for the way up (and heavy hat/gloves for the way down), I was determined to make it to the top.

I took the 9th Ave trail up to Crocus Bluff, then took the road to the first cut through (next to the creepy abandoned cabins). Somewhere around Pierre Berton Cr. two dogs joined me and escorted me all the way to the top, when they disappeared just as suddenly as they’d appeared.

It was snowing lightly the whole time – we’ve been getting a lot of snow here lately – and I realized how much had been accumulating as I made my way up the road. The first 1/3 was completely plowed. The middle section had about 2-3 inches on it. But when I got to the last leg, I wished I’d packed some snowshoes: there was at least half a foot of snow to trudge through.

I was determined, though, and even with hips and calves burning I made it. After a final sprint up the mound to the ice-encrusted bench, I drank my hot chocolate and surveyed my home for the past few months.
Then I started picking my way down the face of the hill toward the powerline trail. This time, however, it had enough fresh powder on it to cover all the sharp, stabby bits I’d been afraid of in September. So I let momentum take over from time to time, grabbed the bottom of my parka tight around my legs, and embraced the great Canadian winter pastime of bum-sledding!

Back on the 9th Ave trail I waved hello at the Parks Canada guys working on Robert Service’s cabin, opened the door to Berton House – my house these past three months – and smiled with satisfaction.

Then I had a nap for two hours.

Yukon’s northern charms hard to resist

The Edmonton Journal featured an article about the Yukon in its Saturday travel section and a friend forwarded it to me. Of course I couldn’t resist writing in! My letter was published today (but the photo’s my little blog addition):

I arrived in the Yukon Sept. 23 just as a blizzard moved into the territory. Tourist season was definitely over: The SS Klondike was dry-docked; the White Pass railway was shutting down; and many spots from Whitehorse up to Dawson were boarded up, their owners having gone “outside” for the winter.

Now that I’ve been here for three months as writer-in-residence at Pierre Berton’s childhood home, I feel I’m halfway between the “Cheechako” and “Sourdough” Renton talks about. I’m still excited by the Air North service and food, and now I know the de-planeing drill for refuelling on the “milk run” between Whitehorse, Dawson, Old Crow, and Inuvik (and use the “seat taken” slip like a pro).

I’ve seen the Yukon River freeze up and gone to Bombay Peggy’s for season close down. I’ve done the Sourtoe Cocktail, driven part of the Dempster Highway in whiteout conditions, and spent a night at Muktuk Adventures being serenaded by 130 huskies. So far the aurora borealis have been elusive, but I’m hopeful I’ll catch a glimpse before I leave: with sunrise at 11 a.m. and sunset at 3:30 p.m., there is plenty of night sky to scan.

While I’m looking forward to being in Edmonton in time for the holidays, I’m already planning a visit back “up here” next year. These northern charms are hard to resist!

Danielle Metcalfe-Chenail, Dawson City, Yukon

© Copyright (c) The Edmonton Journal

Read more: http://www.edmontonjournal.com/Yukon+northern+charms+tough+resist/3936945/story.html#ixzz17RVPcqrP

Dawson Walkabout

I love to walk, and since arriving in late September I’ve tried to get out and explore the town of Dawson (and environs) on foot as much as possible.

If you don’t fall into an early grave, you can continue up Dome Road past side roads named for famous locals: Pierre Berton, Dick North, and Jack London among others.

Back in town you might end up in the alleyway between Second and Front St. where the recycling depot is. I love how the sign says it’s closed holidays and -40…

Further down Front St. there’s the Anglican Church looking out over the river. You might stop in here at the thrift shop on Tuesday and Saturday afternoons, but other days you’ll just carry on, eyeing the ravens perched on rooftops, streetlights, and cleaning up after recess at the schoolyard. They seem pretty docile, but if you’re anything like me you will think of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds when you see more than two together.

Crossing over the dyke, constructed around the river to protect the town from seasonal flooding, you always find surprises. With so many artists and students in town for KIAC and SOVA there are sometimes rocks painted blue, red wine designs in the snow (with the bottle in the middle), or various other artistic offerings. I like this snow couple and their house the best so far.

If you need to warm up, the SnakePit in the Westminster Hotel is a good place, especially in the early evening Thursday-Saturday when Barnacle Bob is pounding out tunes on the piano (often accompanied by guitar and fiddle). But it opens at 9am, so you can pretty much drop in any time!

As you head north out of the Snakepit (if you happen to be there during daylight hours), you might stumble upon this piece of Robert Service wisdom… something to contemplate for the chilly walk home.

Northern Beards, Moustaches, and Movember

The Yukon has a long, distinguished history of bearded men. Images of hairy-faced fellas abound from the gold-rush era. There were many good reasons to grow a beard in those days: warmth, protection from the elements, plus it was a good place to stash gold nuggets…

Flash-forward to the 1940s and well-coiffed moustaches were the rage across the Western world. But ‘up here’ men were encouraged to grow a beard to support the “Days of ’98″ winter carnival. In the January 10, 1947 edition of the Whitehorse Star the following rules were shared:

1. Beards must appear below the mouth from January 1 to February 23, 1947.
2. Age limit: All men under 50 years of age must grow a beard.
3. All personnel in uniform are exempted due to regulations beyond our control.
4. All ministers are exempt.
5. All individuals handling food products are exempt.
6. Any others desiring exemption must present their case to the committee.

Part of this ‘encouragement’ was a Kangaroo Court – later the Keystone Kops – who went around trying and fining men without the requisite facial hair. Now the “Days of ’98″ festival has been replaced by the Sourdough Rendezvous each February in Whitehorse, but a beard-growing contest continues to be popular with the 20,000-odd folk who attend each year (and apparently non-bearded men can still be “fined”).

While it may be well into the negative numbers on the thermometer, many men north of 60 are foregoing their beards this month in support of Movember, a fundraiser and awareness-raiser for prostate cancer. Begun in Australia in 2003 over a few beers (go figure!) the campaign has spread like wildfire across the world and last year over 1 million donors raised $47 million for the cause.

On my recent trip back to Inuvik, NWT I was reunited with several friends – most of whom usually rock a beard or clean-shaven look. Team Meximo could possibly be the most northern Movember team in the world, and it is certainly one of the most colourful. Each decided to embrace a different stereotypical mustache and in this shot they had ‘enhanced’ their Mo’s with mascara to intimidate their curling opponents.

They won their game, and hopefully their efforts will help researchers win the battle against prostate cancer, the type of cancer that affects men the most.

I proudly support the Movember campaign as a Mo Sista and encourage you to as well either by donating, fundraising yourself, or pasting on a moustache for a night of awareness-raising.

And while I can’t enter the Sourdough Rendezvous’s beard competition (despite local rumours after I won a beard trimmer for my cousin at the museum auction), there’s always the lady’s hairy leg contest…

Doing the Mighty Sourtoe

Dawson may be known for the Klondike gold rush, Jack London, Robert Service, and Pierre Berton. But it has another claim to fame – the Sourtoe Cocktail – and last night I was inducted into the club as member #39600.

After dinner at the Drunken Goat we ambled over to the Downtown Hotel, home of the Sourtoe. We sidled up to the bar and announced to the bartender, a lovely aussie lady, that we were there for the toe. After steeling us with a round of liquid courage, our barkeep went into the backroom and emerged with a medium-sized wooden box. From that box, she removed a large dessicated toe from a jar of coarse-grain salt. And she put it on a napkin on the bar. In front of us.
We all looked at this salt-encrusted toe for a moment, remarking that it looked like a large dried date. Except if you looked closely you could see the toenail (my advice – don’t look closely). The next step: selecting our liquor. It has to be over 40 proof and tradition dictated Yukon Jack, so that’s what we did. Also, since it’s 80 proof we figured we were twice as safe!

The other rule? The toe must touch your lips!

Elaine went first since she was desperate to get ‘er done and over with. With a swift movement of the wrist she downed her shot and kissed the toe in one go. She was officially in the club!

Next up was Sandra – our friend’s mother – who had just arrived in Dawson the day before. Our bartender removed the toe from Elaine’s glass and placed the now-glistening appendage back on a napkin. Now it looked more like a sundried-tomato straight from the jar. Nevertheless, this farmer-rancher and liquor store owner from Alberta did us all proud. Another one joins the club!

Finally it was my turn. Glass of Yukon Jack in hand, toe in glass, audience in place I gulped it down, feeling the giant toe hit my lips (which were closed as tightly as possible since I’d heard one guy swallowed a past smaller toe!). Putting the glass down on the bar with authority, I tipped the Downtown Dick hat at my friends: I was now part of the club as well.

I’m still not sure what it is about humans that nearly 40,000 people would pay good money and travel to Dawson to do such a strange ritual. I know many folks think it’s ridiculous. And it is. But it’s fun – so join the club!