Dammit ! Yukon's cold (2009) with Mary Alice B. F.
Up here is my friend Mary. You'd think you could swallow her whole but I swear : you'd cough and choke to death 'cause there ... is a tough bit of a woman ! Thanks to her, I've truly had the most intense and inspiring journey of my "childhood". I was 18 back then on my way to my 19th birthday, which I celebrated during this trip in those frozen mountains, swearing and cursing the gods for something I'd obviously deliberately put myself in. It was worth all the while, though !
We met in Whitehorse, capital of the Yukon territory in N-W Canada, during some awesome classes with two great teachers at the Yukon College : Northern Outdoor Pursuits and Natural History of the Circumpolar North. That's where she suggested I should join her for this adventure.
You see, Mary's parents were trappers for about 30 years : living in the mountains north of the Yukon territory 8 months a year, with their sled dogs and two daughters ; selling the furs when the sun shines bright and all day long in Dawson City, a small town that has become famous during the Klondike gold rush. Mary herself lived with them in this fashion until she was 6. We don't have many trappers in little Belgium, so I was rather impressed and inspired !
Winter 2009. After being stuck for 2 weeks at -55°C near Dawson City - being at the time the second coldest place on Earth (after some middle-of-nowhere siberian town) - we headed into the wild country of the Ogilvie Mountains, looking for the log cabins from my friend's early trapper childhood. This range lies north of Dawson, along the Arctic Circle, and we hiked in it for 35 days of awesomeness : low temperatures and auroras ; trapping and hunting ; pulling our gear and supplies in homemade sleds and sleeping in snow trenches.
We met in Whitehorse, capital of the Yukon territory in N-W Canada, during some awesome classes with two great teachers at the Yukon College : Northern Outdoor Pursuits and Natural History of the Circumpolar North. That's where she suggested I should join her for this adventure.
You see, Mary's parents were trappers for about 30 years : living in the mountains north of the Yukon territory 8 months a year, with their sled dogs and two daughters ; selling the furs when the sun shines bright and all day long in Dawson City, a small town that has become famous during the Klondike gold rush. Mary herself lived with them in this fashion until she was 6. We don't have many trappers in little Belgium, so I was rather impressed and inspired !
Winter 2009. After being stuck for 2 weeks at -55°C near Dawson City - being at the time the second coldest place on Earth (after some middle-of-nowhere siberian town) - we headed into the wild country of the Ogilvie Mountains, looking for the log cabins from my friend's early trapper childhood. This range lies north of Dawson, along the Arctic Circle, and we hiked in it for 35 days of awesomeness : low temperatures and auroras ; trapping and hunting ; pulling our gear and supplies in homemade sleds and sleeping in snow trenches.
Itinerary
- February 2009
- average temperatures : -25°C during the day, -35°C during the night
- 60 km (120 km return)
- 35 days : half of that time outside on the trails, sleeping in snow trenches or quenzee (some sort of igloo), and once climbing a mountain (Desillusion Peak) ; the other half at the first and second cabins, learning to trap and hunt, living to the slow rythm of arctic winter
- we followed a wolf trail for the first part up to the first cabin - and a caribou heard the first day on the other side of the river ! - , but the second part was more hazardous and we had to go through scrubs and bushes and walk on frozen rivers. While Mary was having some difficulties in the first bit, I had mine in the second where I had issues with the cold, with my snowshoes, and went through the ice into the river twice. Brrr!
anecdote
On our way back the satellite phone subscription had ended unexpectedly : we were no longer able to call anyone to come and get us. So when we finally got to the road, after two days of exhausting long walks pulling heavy sleds - heavier still with the caribou antlers we found - we had no option but to bury ourselves in the snow and wait for someone to pass by - with no food left - and it's not really what you would call a busy road in the middle of winter, this one !
Fortunately, some scientists came through from research further north and picked us up. Oh man! the CAR : a closed compartment, sheltered from the bone-freezing wind, with warm air blown in from the engine. Waw ! ...and MUSIC ! I remember being in that car so happy, so optimistic about everything - the two of us smelling beast-like, a wild musty mixture of fire and various layers of old and fresh sweat concealed in our thick parka.
What a ride ! Thanks Mary :-)
Fortunately, some scientists came through from research further north and picked us up. Oh man! the CAR : a closed compartment, sheltered from the bone-freezing wind, with warm air blown in from the engine. Waw ! ...and MUSIC ! I remember being in that car so happy, so optimistic about everything - the two of us smelling beast-like, a wild musty mixture of fire and various layers of old and fresh sweat concealed in our thick parka.
What a ride ! Thanks Mary :-)
Getting Ready... and waiting for better weather conditions ! (january 2009)
On the move (february 2009)
Rivers are alive : they move and crack and BANG! like gun-shots during the day and night. That's what makes the walking on it difficult and precarious.
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First sight of the sun. Days are shorter up there... And oooh my! sunlight feels GREAT :-)
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Breaking the ice with an axe, we get our fresh water from the rivers. And it's good to drink right away!
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Couldn't shoot any of those tasty-looking chicken-like birds in this valley ! Some training (and glasses) would have been necessary.
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Not that easy to pull a heavy sled through these bushes. But that second part, Mary found it much easier than I did. She nursed me - bringing hot tea and nuts, etc. - in my snow trench, bundled in 3 sleeping bags, after I got hypothermia from falling into the water through the ice (although it wasn't very deep at all... Fear was a lot more to blame for my state than the accident itself that day. Won't happen again!)
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Home sweet second home ! [...] We slept in the little "guest house" which was easier to insolate and keep warm. But still, when we arrived there, exhausted, there were no windows and many holes in the walls (as well as a tree growing on the roof!)
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Those boots, an old trapper lent them to me for our trip. When we got back, full of memories, he said I could keep them ! A nice present I will always keep by my side (in case climate goes wild!). They're made of moose leather and are called "moccasins", shoes of the Inuit people.
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Miserable and cold. The day of my 19th birthday !