Climbing Sheep Mountain

This summer I had the opportunity to go on some pretty amazing adventures. The Yukon is in no short supply of things to do and places to go. If you can dream it, you can pretty much do it!
One of the main reasons I had such an amazing summer is the amazing family which I have adopted myself into. The chaos and characters that this family employs is nothing short of wonderful and I couldn't ask for better friends with more amazing kids. They have made me feel welcome in their home and brought me on family vacations without so much as a hesitation on their part.
One of the more memorable ones was just after my birthday when we all took a 4 day sojourn from work life and took off to Kluane National Park to climb a mountain.

At Kluane Lake in Kluane National Park

Kluane National Park covers an area of about 22,000 square kilometers. It is a land of superlatives, within its borders are precipitous high mountains, the most immense non-polar  ice fields in the world, and lush valleys that yield a very diverse array of plant, bird and wildlife species and a place where an outdoorsman is in wonderland.
Kluane is also home to Mount Logan - a 19,525 ft peak, which is Canada's highest. (Parks Canada)

Although we would have loved to tackle Mount Logan (hah), it was simply not in the cards for us just yet.  Instead we decided to take a nice 5km (4200 ft) hike up Sheep Mountain in hopes of spying some Dall Sheep and glancing some breathtaking views.

We stopped at Kluane Lake as soon as we entered the park and dipped our toes into the chilly water before heading off to find a place to camp that was safe from the over 400 grizzlys that live in the park.

After heading to the Congdon Creek Campground where there was a ban on tents (what! simply perposterous) we went in search of another place that had less recent bear activity and ended up at Pine Lake Campground, which is located just outside of Kluane near Haines Junction.

checking out the mountains on the map

We set off in the morning with an idea of where we wanted to go and hit the trail head with high spirits and bellies full of a delicious breakfast.

The hike was something of a challenge with its steep inclines and the hot Yukon sun beating down on us, but the the kids were tough and made it all the way to the top! I am so proud of all of us, especially the kids, for making it to the top and not giving up, even when it seemed that the steep patches would never end (they actually didn't). 

So much can not be said for some adults that we saw some turning around and telling us that it was too difficult for them to climb. 

The views were definitely worth it and drew is upward and onward into the mountain pass. 

Taking a small break at the halfway point

Taking refuge next to a tree laden with woodpecker holes

As we ascended through this vast wilderness I was struck again and again by the beauty that surrounded us. We are so lucky to live in such a place, and to be in these places with such wonderful people allows you to come to a place of such peace. 

There is something about standing on a ridge with nothing but air all around you looking out onto the toe of a glacier while the sun warms your skin and a rainbow emerges out of nowhere that just allows everything to slip away and feel... free.

We made it... nothing but air all around me

Taking it all in

Amazing...

These guys! 

x

Cabin Life: Marking a Year and a true SOURDOUGH

This past month marked a year that I have been in the Yukon. It seems like forever ago that I made that long emotionally perilous solo journey across the country to an unknown place to live; but somehow it seems like no time has passed at all.
It has been a year of rebuilding, breaking down and rebuilding again. There were so many unanswered questions, and so much feeling alone... But that is a post for another day, today we celebrate the year of becoming a SOURDOUGH! 
Being a Sourdough in the Yukon is defined as  "A permanent resident of the territory. Someone who has lived in the Yukon during all four seasons." (according to Wiki)
This year has been remarkable in so many ways. I have learned things about myself and other people, I have become stronger in myself than ever before, I feel more independent and sure of myself in my decisions, because I know that I am making them for myself, not for someone else... even if that decision is based around someone else.

I was recently asked to be a part of a documentary that a lovely woman, Siobhan, is doing. After a chance meeting at my workplace, she asked if she would be able to interview me about living in a cabin in the north. The documentary is taking place across north america, she is hitching from anchorage, AK to NYC in hopes of meeting different characters and experiencing different ways of living in order to explore the concept of freedom and what it means to them. When asked on my opinion of freedom and what it means I felt a little bit stumped for a moment... isn't freedom just living...
After sharing a few laughs and stories with Siobhan I realised that freedom was more than just living. It was the way that you choose to live your life, and the ability to choose is freedom in and of itself.
 To me living free is the ability to do things on my own, and finding out how strong and self sufficient i can be. Living in a cabin in the Yukon has been a wonderful experience for me, though challenging at times, I wouldn't take it back for anything. There are days when I long for running water, which would enable me to take nice, long, hot shower, or turn on the tap and wash my dishes with ease. But then I look at how appreciative I have become of those things. I am the only one i have to depend on. If i don't get water, then I have nothing to drink or cook with. If i don't chop enough wood, or make a fire for myself, I will most likely freeze to death, and I only have myself to blame.

Anyways, this year was fantastic and absolutely life-changing in so many ways (for the better) and I believe it was the right decision for me. I love living in the Yukon and can't wait to spend a lot more time exploring the freedom that it allows me to have.

Also, I am committing myself to writing at least two blog posts per week for the month of October. So expect to see a lot more posts about cabin living and if you want to see a post on something in particular that you wonder about, let me know!

in the mean time, enjoy some pictures of a few of my epic adventures.

reflektion

I wrote this just over a month ago when the cold still held tightly to the night air, and the darkness penetrated our minds so deeply we almost forgot about the light. The sun has returned with a vengeance and with it helped to open our wings and allow us to ruffle the water off of our feathers and begin to breathe again.

The northern lights have been lighting up the sky for the past two days with their curious light. they  move like little phantoms come to show us their tricks and leave us in awe and wonder. the colours and movement draw people from the slumbers into the cold nights air to be a part of a collective experience. even as you are standing alone on the middle of a field, lake, mountain range or street... you can't help but wonder how many other eyes are glued to the sky at that moment; seeing the same things as you... but not actually seeing the same thing in the nights sky's dancing display.
Each person's experience with the northern lights are different. they bring out a sense of awe and wonder in us that seems to tap into a resource that my be unknown to many. a forgotten realm within their minds that can only be accessed at moments like this.
its the part of our minds that bring memories, experiences and circumstance to the surface. its a part of our brain that may be locked away that we never knew wasn't there until we finally found that it was missing.
nights like these make me want to dance.

The sky is awake, so I'm awake. lets play.

The First Snow

Snow. I have a love hate relationship with it.

It has been a while since the first snow here in the Yukon. We are now old hats at wiping our cars clear of the 20 cm that fell the night before, and shoveling our way out of the house, defrosting our door-handles with hairdryers, getting up at 3 am to stoke the fire and making sure the car is plugged in so that it doesn't groan quite as much when we try to go to work.

However, the first snow came all too soon for me. I had been expecting it, anticipating it and basically all around frightened of it. I'm not sure if it was the idea of 8 months of winter that scared me, or the passing of another season. The fall losing its grasp as each day more and more leaves fell to the ground and the air became a bit more crisp.

I woke up one morning with a chill running through my bones. The blankets had come off of my bare feet in the night and I pulled my feet up underneath into the warmth and shuttered. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but the cold had nipped my cheeks and I was forced to get up and put a log on the fire. As I padded across the cool floor in the darkness of the early morning winter I noted to myself that this was the first morning since my arrival that I had been made to get out of bed because of the cold and start a fire anew. up until this moment my fire had held me through the night, allowing me to wake in comfort and pull on a sweater to go make my coffee before re setting the stove.

As i reached the door I paused for a moment, the windows were still dark and the sleep had not yet left my eyes, but something seemed different, the shades seemed to be pulled tightly to their frames, held there, hiding something from my eyes. I pulled open the door to retrieve my wood and was shocked when in front of me was 10 cm of freshly fallen snow. I quickly slammed the door shut, uttered a few obscenities and promptly climbed back into bed and pulled the blankets over my head.
"It's all over" I thought desperately to myself.

I knew this day was coming, but I wasn't ready. The snow falls in the Yukon and takes up post until the spring thaw, which (I've heard) doesn't come until at least May. It was the end of the bare ground being present in my life and the beginning of something new. The days would quickly become darker, the temperature would drop dramatically; sometimes below -40, the days would now include shoveling, plugging in cars, and an ever increasing difficulty in chopping wood and keeping the cabin warm through the cold days and nights.

I peered out from under the blankets and pulled back the shades to look outside. The trees were covered in a light dusting of white, creating a contrast with the greens of the pines that looked almost surreal. the forest seemed to go on forever. There was a stillness that i hadn't yet experienced, and didn't know how to react to. It was as though everything was stopped and sitting in awe.
Looking at the tiny white flakes fall to the ground I got up and again went to the door, this time prepared; dawning boots, and mittens i stepped outside and took a breath of the cool crisp new air.

Maybe snow wouldn't be so bad after-all