"Emilie, Takhini North", and An Inaugural Snowshoeing

"We must let go of the life we have planned,

 so as to accept the one that is waiting for us."~Joseph Campbell

Even before darkening the doorway of The Yukon Territory I began making friends. Through past housesitting/hiking stints in the Territory, as well as via social media and friends in Ontario, I was excited to connect with people here. Emilie is one such friend. 

This painting resulted from a walk up in a subdivision of Whitehorse called Takhini North. It is amazing how our brains remember subtle topographies. In large urban areas we naturally remember buildings or man made structures to orientate ourselves within a space. Up here, there are a few buildings, yes, but natural structures vastly outweigh those built with human hands. Mountains have faces as well as people, and many folks have seen this painting and said "I know exactly where that is!"

Emilie had recently picked up this amazing blue coat at Unity Clothing here in Whitehorse. The intense, cobalt-blue hue was instantly appealing, especially in contrast with her amazing red hair. 

This was the first portrait I completed after moving to Whitehorse. It is 30"x40", a good size, oil on canvas. My gallery in Toronto, Abbozzo Gallery, has it now. It is on display currently if you wish to see it in person. Looking at images on a small scale is deceptive, especially when it comes to art. One needs to step closer to a painting to really see the "guts" of the thing, to see how an artist makes the work what it is. I paint very thinly, so I utilize directionality in brushwork to add structure and depth. Up close it is easier to see the subtleties. 

I have been in the Yukon Territory for four months now. Four months to let my bones settle into this place. The people are as warm as the temperatures are cold. There is community, and resiliency, and pride. I am proud to call The Yukon home. I can understand how city mice can be unhelmed by the quiet, by the space, by the solitude. It does force you to become better acquainted with the vagaries of your heart and mind. It does invite introspection...and it does so in spades. After living in a suburban environment up until now, with only periodic, bucolic adventures, it is a bit overwhelming at times. It is good. It is an opportunity to learn and find peace within the abundantly quiet moments. 

Recently I went snowshoeing here outside of town with some friends. I had never snowshoed before, and we did a 21km trek out near Fish Lake. It was great fun. Brisk, at -15ºC that day, but we kept moving and worked up a little sweat. Above, Greg takes off into the dawn. 

I took my trusty Arc'teryx Altra pack with me on this snowshoe. This pack has gone with me on treks in The Yukon, Iceland and The Faroe Islands. It's light, and a good size for an overnight hike or a long day hike. Here's a link: Arc'teryx Altra 48 L

The trek was a gradual uphill for the first 5km, then a slow but continuous descent for the majority of it. It made for some nice views. We passed a few cross country skiers and their dogs. People up here love to be out in the elements. And who wouldn't? 

The sun came out in the last half hour of the snowshoe. There is so little pollution up here that light is not hindered by anything. It is intense, and vibrant, and there are colours that practically glow in even the quietest shadows. The blues are so luminous it defies belief. I am fortunate to be here, to have no departure date, to dwell amongst the mountains, finally :) 

Have a beautiful day,

Heather

“I learned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. . ."~Henry David Thoreau

Yukon Life: If You're Happy No Amount Of Darkness Matters.

"Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in a forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers." ~T.S. Eliot

These days in Whitehorse, the sun rises at about 9:48 am and sets just before 4pm. That's 6 precious hours to cast a shadow. And the sun doesn't mess around. True, the dawns and dusks seem more lengthy, but the darkness always wins. I feel as though I am on a night shift, even though I have never worked one before. 

The other morning, lying in bed, cocooned in a web of blankets and I thought about what changes I notice most about these colder days. My sweet cottage is a tiny castle….diminutive in size but large in charm. I love that it has a slant…cupboard doors swing open wildly, my studio chair is always wanting to roll away from the easel. It reminds me of quaint little cottages in Newfoundland. It only has two rooms, plus a small bathroom. It is all I need. It doesn't take you long in a small space to realise how much is superfluous. You become discerning out of necessity. 

Dawn at Fish Lake a few weeks ago

In the mornings, in the dark, there are few sounds outside of my cottage. My bed is against two exterior walls, so it is quite refreshing when it is -30ºC. I huddle under my Hudson's Bay blanket and Icelandic throw picked up in Reykjavik. I hear cars driving slowly down the lane way behind the cottage, the snow protesting in strange, dry squeaks. My neighbour says foxes are fond of the lane way, which makes me happy, knowing they are out there padding around in their fluffy auburn raiment. As I drove along Robert Service Way paralleling the Yukon River there other day I saw a fox cross up ahead of me. Thankfully he stood still and regarded me as I drove past…this beautiful creature out in the freezing cold, just doing his thing. Lovely.

The windows of Rose Cottage have had a whole story of their own this past month as the cold has set in. I have moisture in my cottage that is forming elaborate ice formations, almost stalactites, inside my storm windows, and in the case of my bedroom window, which doesn't have a storm window, in my room. It's weird to see the ice there, not melting, even though my cottage is 17ºC. Outside the ice blooms into floral patterns, dancing horses, tendrils of icy, tiny leviathans, otherworldly plants. Watching them shift with the alternating temperature is like watching clouds pass overhead and forming them into stories. 

When it gets below minus 25 the cold starts to do crazy things. Everything becomes more brittle. Even the water in our bodies starts to slow down and freeze…the pain of having exposed flesh sets in quickly. I have already begun stocking my car with emergency supplies, even though I don't want to drive too far out of town until I get snow tires. 

Layers of light at Fish Lake

Sasha's coat is getting thicker by the day. I love that he is on this journey with me, adapting and learning about life up here in the North. The biggest bummer is the ice on the windows. While beautiful, it is an impediment for him as he loves watching the world go by. In a 450 square cottage, he can use all of the activity he can find. He is my constant companion...5,400km driven together across this great country of Canada. I am proud of him. A tiny trooper.

Sasha Fierce

Mist rising off of the Yukon River at 9am last week...

The other day it was about -34ºC with the windchill. I saw light and mist rising off of the Yukon River. In a few minutes I had snapped a photo of a sun dog…my first! It is a beautiful phenomenon that I believe is specific to cold environments. It has to do with some sort of specific refraction of light…I think...it's a bit of magic undeniably. 

The darkness is pervasive this time of year. It is new, and fun, and slightly intimidating. But I realized the other morning with some momentary clarity: when you are happy, no amount of darkness matters.

Yukon Living...The Sweetest Peace

The timber wolves will be our friends.

We'll stay up late and howl,

At the moon, till nighttime ends,

Before going on the prowl.

Oh, what a life! We cannot wait,

To be in that arctic land,

Where we'll be masters of our fate,

And lead a life that's grand!

~excerpt from Calvin & Hobbes' "The Yukon Song", by Bill Watterson

It has been almost three weeks since I arrived in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. The drive was truly an odyssey, and the peace that has followed has also been overwhelming. After so many months of planning, my dream really has come true.

The air here is as clean as I remember. No more hacking cough from particulate in the air. The roads are quiet, much quieter than what I am used to. Everything is within a five minute walk as I am downtown. The Yukon river is 350 m away.

Emerald Lake. I drove too far and missed the turnoff to a friend's house

...but this was a great site to pass despite my error:)

The community here is close knit and supportive. There is always something going on. The cold and snow is just par for the course for the people here in the Yukon. Each time of day here, each moment of each season, changes almost before your eyes.

An unkindness of ravens surveyed the Yukon River as I walked by them yesterday...

McLean Lake. Went jogging here one day. No one around as usual. Perfect:)

Recently as I drove down the Robert Service Expressway into Whitehorse I looked across at Grey Mountain (or Canyon Mountain, it's proper name) across The Yukon River. I was struck by the rivulets of golden-yellow tendrils of far off trees whose leaves were reaching up onto the mountain as far as possible. Within 24 hours many leaves have given up the ghost and dropped down to the forest floor, like bright little mandalas. Beautiful. Ephemeral.

Driving down the South Klondike Hihgway...I see mountains every day now. Joy!

I will often paint in my little studio all day and then go for a 3-5 mile hike on Grey Mountain. There are well marked trails and you will rarely see another person. More likely you will see a porcupine, deer, or even a bear. This year has been a bumper crop in terms of berries I hear, and so some friends and I are going berry picking on the weekend. A true Northern tradition. I made some cranberry jam today, and will be blogging about that process, as well as the process of picking the berries.

Hidden Lake, which I passed on a recent hike. 

I have spent so much time and energy thinking about being here, planning, organizing, that the peace felt now that I'm settling in is palpable. All of that energy can now rest and be turned over into the soil of this new place. I honesty cannot remember being this happy. This place is polarizing. So much happening yet so much quiet and stillness if you turn away from the hum as well.

It is definitely autumn here in The Yukon..

Sasha is getting used to the little cottage where I live. His space has lessened but his personality is just as big and he keeps me up regularly at night wanting to play. What a trooper. I knew he could do the trip, and now his coat is getting thicker each day. He will need the extra insulation as the snow will be flying within two weeks most likely.

Moody skies at Lewes Lake, off the South Klondike Highway

Each day when I step out of my little cottage I am so thankful. I look at the mountains across the river and breathe the clean air and smile. I need nothing more. My cup is full, and The Yukon is a cup that never runs dry. 

Yukon Bound Day 6...Grande Prairie,AB to Muncho Lake,BC

 

"Emergencies have always been necessary to progress. 

It was darkness which produced the lamp. 

It was fog that produced the compass. 

It was hunger that drove us to exploration."~Victor Hugo

 I thought that Blogger was being temperamental but switching browsers had enabled me to actually upload photos, which is half the fun when reading a blog. Today was the second last day of my grand journey across Canada. I drove from Grande Prairie, Alberta to Munch Lake, British Columbia. About 11 hours of driving and stopping for breaks. It was pretty epic in beauty and distance. I hope you enjoy the photos I have included here. 

The dawn, seen above, was outstanding. One of those days that looks like the sound of a light bulb breaking. Intense and blinding and satisfying all in one. A fracture of colour that cracks across the sky, with colour that seeps out where the sky has broken. That, combined with copious amounts of fog, made for an absolutely stellar dawn as I drove through Dawson Creek (mile '0' of the Alaska Highway), Taylor, Fort St. John, Fort Nelson, Wonowon, Toad River, and finally Muncho Lake Provincial Park, where I am tonight.

 

 

 I had to chuckle when I entered my address in Whitehorse in the GPS. The distance until the next turn, seen in the upper left hand corner, made me smile. 

  

Today was all nature. The architecture to admire was the mountains, the streams, the rivers, the wildlife. Lots of signs warning me about bison and caribou around every corner. I saw four caribou...gorgeous and pretty unmoved by the vehicles so close to them. 

The expanses that opened up north of Fort Nelson were beyond compare. Lots of solitude, trees as far as the eye could see, sunshine and two lane blacktop. No billboards. All awesome. A good audiobook (I am finishing listening to 'Ready Player One' by Ernest Cline. The audiobook is read by Wil Wheaton, who does a bang up job of it. If you haven't read it, get it. Great book. If you are a child of the 80's, a nerd, geek, a John Hughes or Rush fan, or any other member of that subculture, it is for you :)

 The yellows foliage was gorgeous today. I have seen lots of photos recently on Instagram from Yukon residents snapping pictures of leaves changing, and I saw plenty of it today. All mottled green and yellow together, it is as though the hillsides and mountains were trying to catch fire, but very slowly, like trying to making a fire with damp wood, not a quick process. The brilliant yellows and greens, juxtaposed against the blue sky made for some amazing horizons to chase.

 

I forget which river this was but it is irrelevant...the braids and branches of it weaving under the bridge brought back memories of my first trip to Alaska in 2008. That trip and subsequent ones have all been working towards this moment of moving up here. How could one NOT want to be within this landscape? 

 

Around a couple of turns I saw four caribou in total. They were a chocolate brown, and there was a calf with his/her mother here in this shot. The mother was so sweet, nudging him up the game trail in front of her. A sweetness that was palpable. To see creatures like these, wild and almost untouched by any sight of human beings, is like seeing magic happen right before your eyes. And, like magic, it usually is gone quickly. Thank goodness for cameras and art :)

They were like shadows that could disappear if you looked away.

 

Finally after hundreds of winding kilometres I arrived at Muncho Lake Provincial Park. The lake is that gorgeous blue that you see in healthy environments. 

The dining room of the lodge where I am staying. Log cabins/homes/structures are the best.

 

Another long day in the saddle today for Sasha. Here he is helping me write this blog entry. I never thought he would handle this whole process as well as he has. It has made it so much less stressful than it could have been. I cannot wait to see what paintings come from this experience. New friends will become new muses, and the space and freshness of this land is the perfect catalyst for focused painting. I cannot wait...setting up my studio this week...:)

Tomorrow...at long last....WHITEHORSE, YUKON TERRITORY! 

Have a wonderful week and thanks for reading...

Heather

Yukon Bound Day 4!...Winnipeg to Saskatoon

"Here is my secret. It is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; 

what is essential is invisible to the eye."~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

I did not take many photos today. I'm not sure why. It is not as though the prairies didn't offer much to capture. On the contrary, I enjoyed the immeasurable flatness in all directions, a golden yellow expanse pressed under the thumb of a giant rolling pin. I left my hotel around 6:15am, the earliest departure yet. I wanted a good jump on the day as I knew there would be the better part of 9 driving hours to cover. 

Dawn bloomed around 7am this morning...a hazy, sleepy eye opening with lovely colours all around. Today I drove from Winnipeg, Manitoba to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. The odometer pronounced that 1,849 miles have been driven so far. Just shy of 3,000 km. I am pleased with this progress. From here on out it will be another 9-10 hours to Grande Prairie, Alberta tomorrow, and then another 9+ hour day to get up to Muncho Lake, British Columbia on Sunday. All things going according to plan I will arrive in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory on Monday late afternoon. My new home.

A rather unassuming little sign welcomed drivers to Saskatchewan. The Prairies, in earnest. Land of terribly expensive beer, pleasant inhabitants, mottled cows, grain elevators and crisply distant horizons.  I couldn't help but notice the cows and horses as I drove past them. They were very handsome and looked to be well cared for. The cows were a mixture of ruddy reds, deep ochres and blacks, jumbled about in herds, lazily swatting their tales. They reminded me of multi-coloured corn kernels. As I approached Saskatoon I saw more variability in the landscape; some deeper hollows slid down away from the road, probably remnants of long-dried streams. The temperature was hot and dusty, a perfect day to be here. The prairies at their best, as they should be. The wind was present and constant. With nothing to stop it it blew about the buildings and vehicles everywhere. I felt a little bit cast back in time, or at least, frozen in it for awhile.  

Before this drive people had rolled their eyes when mentioning the prairie component of a trans Canada drive. "Stay awake!" "They are SO boring." "It gets better when you are beyond the prairies". And I have also heard that some people feel agoraphobic in the prairies. The expanse can be unsettling. I find it comforting. Nothing can sneak up on you out here. There is a knowledge that most things are seen here and you can prepare for them, as opposed to being in deep valleys or deep woods. I find this landscape uncomplicated and relaxing. And it is far from boring.

Today I passed through Portage la Prairie, Brandon, Regina, Chamberlain, Craik and finally Saskatoon. I didn't get much chance to look around town here but rather made a beeline for my hotel, a horse for the barn. Sasha is typically tired and fed up by that time of day and I like to get settled in and relax to prepare for the next day of travel. I promise I will take more photos tomorrow. I have no idea what the landscape will be like heading across northern Alberta to Grande Prairie. All I know is it will be another long day. But another beautiful one as well, no doubt.

I didn't see much wildlife today, other than a few geese flying in a loose 'V' and the odd lone duck in little lakes by the highway. Sasha slept most of the day, after his morning yowling. I would be upset too, but he takes it in stride and resigns himself to his blanket.

New adventures tomorrow...more trucks, bugs on the windscreen, Tim Horton's and always a new horizon.

"What makes the desert beautiful," says the little prince,

 "is that somewhere it hides a well."~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Yukon Bound...Day 3! Thunder Bay to Winnipeg

That was my country—Terrible winds and a wonderful emptiness.

- Georgia O’Keeffe

Today I drove another 700km as I drove from Thunder Bay, Ontario to Winnipeg, Manitoba. This is day three of seven that I am taking to get up to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. From here on out the days will be longer, as I am basing my stop points around seven to nine hour driving lengths. Next stop is Saskatoon, then Grand Prairie, Alberta, then Muncho Lake, BC and finally Whitehorse!

The Canadian Shield, so ubiquitous over the course of the last two days, faded away from view today as the landscape was taken over by limitless flatness. I started off early again, around 7am. Sasha has his usual morning complaints at being in his crate again but he settles down and has a good sleep for most of the day. We are settling into a routine, and I know how much cats like routine. I know that at the end of the day we can both unwind in the hotel, fed, watered and clean.

Today I spotted a bat, a fox, a coyote, a bald eagle and a turkey vulture making short work of road kill with a flock of ravens nearby. The roads were excellent, and the quantity of trucks and vehicles going my direction was markedly less than those going east towards Thunder Bay.

I appreciated the sign as I entered Dryden, Ontario today. It was one of those signs that appears near bingo halls and variety stores or restaurants announcing various dinner specials or pot luck dates. But this was the town's main welcome sign. Quaint.

As I made my way northwest out of Ontario the usual battery of moose-warning signs flashed by. I appreciate that the moose on this sign appears to be doing its own version of the tolt, a unique gait that only the Icelandic horse can make. The tolt happens when three of the horse's four legs remain on the ground. Here is a great example:
Super Tolt!


Today I passed through Sunshine, Upsala, Ignace, Kenora and a multitude of parks in between.
The land quickly transitioned shortly after the Ontario/Manitoba border into the flat topography that I was expecting. I have driven through the Midwest from top to bottom and this makes even the Midwest look hilly. I can't imagine what I will see when I get to Saskatchewan!

A new province visited!

I love the angularity and simple geometry of this landscape. The clouds counter the sharpness of the land with their puffy faces, seeming to look down on us through a fishbowl. It only serves to accentuate how mercilessly unbroken the lines of the road and fields are. Pretty spectacular. People have warned me to stay awake during the drive across the prairies, complaining of its tedious repetitiveness. But I am excited for it. Because there is in fact tonnes going on, but in a more subtle way.

Getting close to Winnipeg here. There was nothing...nothing...nothing...nothing...and then a tall cityscape WAY off in the distance to the southwest. I feel as though I'm in a western here, some Canadian Coen Brothers realm. Some McCarthy-esque, alternate universe. Tomorrow...Saskatoon!

My dear co-pilot and true friend Sasha, tired after a long day. Tomorrow..more adventures! See you then.

Yukon Bound Day 2!...Sault Ste. Marie to Thunder Bay

“Set out from any point. They are all alike. They all lead to a point of departure.” 
― Antonio Porchia

Day 2 began early. I arrived in Sault Ste Marie in the dark and left in the dark this morning, with my sights set on Thunder Bay. Garmindy (my Garmin) proclaimed it would take 8 hours of driving time. With stops it was about 9 hours. As I departed The Soo fog was blanketing the landscape. Eerie and beautiful and casting a blue hue over everything, I took extra care driving. On top of that rain and multiple signs warning to be on the lookout for moose made for an extra-vigilant driving experience. 

The Canadian Shield and construction. Two constants up here these past two days. Frankly the construction doesn't tie up too much time. The unlimited transport trucks really unnerve me however on two lane asphalt highways like the Trans Canada #17. Yet the landscape more than made up for the nervousness. Wave after wave of tree-heavy rock, trees that grew right out of the rock, true tenacity. I know there is a lot of logging up here but fortunately didn't see too much evidence of this. 

Lake Superior. As incredible as I hoped it would be..the earth stretching out in a necklace of islands which span the horizon. I passed through towns including Marathon, Batchawana Bay, Pancake Bay Provincial Park, Wawa, White River, Terrace Bay, Schreiber, Rainbow Falls Provincial Park, Nipigon and my favourite sign, "Rabbit Blanket Lake"(my friend Kelly will like that). The leaves are continuing to turn, but not in a hurry. They echo the rocks in their subtlety. They are dark brown and ancient green still, with the odd flush of red here and there, the colours of dinosaurs that I remember from childhood books, all mottled and seeming to know secrets I am not privy to. The rock appeared to be alive, rising and falling from view like pods of whales, giant humpbacks with their murky skins disappearing under the waves. 

This is a screenshot from my phone. I had no cell reception for most of the day. Normally a welcome thing but alone in the middle of a new place with so far to go, I was unnerved. Still, I was thankful to get a signal in Thunder Bay.

In Terrace Bay, when I stopped at a Tim Horton's I passed this very Canadian sight...a huge Canada flag and a large statue of a Canada Goose. I had to smile :)

Approaching Thunder Bay. So much rock up here. I love it. It was clear and crisp and beautiful today. I am so pleased to finally have seen Lake Superior and do this drive. Tomorrow I leave the Great Lakes and head west to Winnipeg. The PEG. "You know it's made well if its made in Winnipeg!" Never been.  Time to check off another province!

Sasha is doing really well. He wasn't thrilled about being in his kitty condo crate this morning but he settled down in the afternoon. I have toys for him, lots of food, and lots of love.