Cabin Life # 4: Mush Mush

For the past two winters I have had the pleasure of playing with a couple of pretty rad dog teams and had the opportunity to learn a few of the ins-and-outs of handling and mushing dogs.

Dog mushing is something that I never really imagined myself doing, being someone who was always a self-proclaimed cat person, dogs were never quite my thing. I always liked dogs —having grown up having them — but I never wanted to own one myself, until I took care of and fell in love with sled dogs. They won me over with their unique energy and sweet expectant faces. They are absolutely the hardest working and most dedicated dogs I have ever met. I definitely hope that mushing is something that I will be doing for many winters to come.

When you approach a dog yard with your sled in tow the dogs immediately know what they are about to do, and they are excited! Most sled dogs in the Yukon are Alaskan Husky's. These dogs are incredibly athletic — small, strong and agile they are literally made to pull — pulling is their job and they love to do it. This makes them the most common dog to use when sledding, but often they are bred with other athletic dogs who may have a strong pulling gene.

Walking into the dog yard is a sensory overload. Your senses are filled with the barking, jumping and howling of dogs who want you to choose them first to hook up to the gang line. They all come out of their individual houses to see who or what is going on. They are tethered to a post with a chain that allows them enough room to run eat and go into their houses without any of the dogs getting into each other’s spaces and causing any trouble. Dog fights can be common among these types of animals. Even playful fighting could cause an injury and take them out of the team, so it is avoided at all costs by the handlers.

Each dog has a unique personality, and knowing those is the job of the musher or handler. Some dogs love to be near and run next to each other, others do not and could make your run very difficult and dangerous. Some are motivated by each other and will follow them to the ends of the earth, others like to be out front, and those are the leads.

Lead dogs are a special kind of animal. In my experience, the lead dog often is the oldest and wisest dog. It often lives in the house with the musher away from the dog yard. Because their direction instinct is so attuned they are often left off leash to their own devices, but usually hang around the dog yard, or beside their owner. They are the ones that guide the pack. They must listen for commands from the musher and bring the other dogs in the right direction, without them the other dogs will go astray. They often have a very strong bond with the musher, and mushers can often be found having long in-depth conversations with them, planning out their next moves, offering encouragement and comfort to one another and holding each other together on long races. A good lead is the most integral part of the team. Without a good lead your run can become very frustrating very fast, they must listen intently to the mushers spoken commands as this is the only way the sled is directed. The lead must be confident, independent and fast as they do not have anyone to follow, and can literally make or break a dog team.

When you walk through the yard the dogs look at you expectantly and jump towards you pulling their chains taught. They rest their paws on your arm and calm when you stop at each dog to give them a pat before choosing the first to go on the line.

Each dog that is going to be in your team is harnessed. The dogs are old hats at this process, lifting each leg as you guide the harness over their head and pull their front paws through. Once you have your sled secured all your dogs harnessed and your line ready it’s a race to get the dogs hooked up. Then you take them and attach the harness at the back and front to the gang line one by one. This is a strategic process and must be completed quickly as the energy of the dogs mounts. They are excited and ready to go, when you attach them they begin to jump up and forward launching themselves into the air as they do. Once you have all the dogs on the line you can jump on the sled, release the brakes and you are off.

Standing on the back of the sled you watch each dog as they steady into a pace that will bring you through small passes and trails that are often only accessed by dogs. Keeping your feet steady on the runners you use the brake in between to keep the dogs from over-exerting themselves but keeping the line taut.

When you are out with the dogs there is a calmness that takes over, like nothing else. Once you get into a rhythm with them a silence comes over the world and whoosh, you are transported. All you hear is the sound of the dog’s feet as they pat across the snow, your own breath in rhythm with theirs as each breath crisps with the exhalation. The snow slides beneath the sled as it slips over the fresh snow beneath you and you suddenly find yourself miles away from nowhere.

As you anticipate the turns and twists of the trail you call out “gee” or “haw” to your leader to indicate the direction you choose while leading the sled with your weight. Each movement connected to your lead as if through ESP as they guide your path.

Sledding is unlike anything I have ever done before, the ease with which you move juxtaposed with the hard work it takes to maneuver the sled, and the feeling of being out, just you and the world with your dogs. When we stop for a coffee break, the dogs lay down for a well-deserved break themselves. We have situated ourselves within a valley between two mountain peaks that we have been travelling between for about an hour. Here the snow is deep and our feet crack through the icy surface sink into the soft snow as we stop the sled and step off the rails. We can only stop for a moment before the dogs are ready to go again and begin pulling at their snow hooks.

And with a quick "Ok" they are off again, pulling you forward with a swift movement before steadying into a pace again with tongues hanging out, and a smile on your face; the world is in front of you, and it feels like you could go anywhere with them leading you.

This experience has been one that I definitely hope to enjoy for years to come and has given me a renewed appreciation for a dogs spirit and the connection that is created through them to their human owners…

Man is truly a dogs best friend.

Running on a Frozen Fish Lake, YT

Running on a frozen Upper Labarge

A quick stop to rest and take in the scenery

Quick rest along the Yukon River

Cabin Life #3: Chopping Wood, Take 2

I had started a series of "Cabin Life" blogs way back when I first moved to Yukon, but never quite got into writing them for one reason or another. So here is a second shot at it. I will document what life is like living in a log cabin in the Yukon wilderness, without running water, heated only by a wood stove, surrounded only by the sounds of animals, the wind and my own breathing...

I hope to document the trials and tribulations, the ups and the downs.  What I have learned and what the cabin has taught me. If there is something that my readers wish to learn about, or have questions about, let me know and I will try to incorporate that into a post! It's always nice to have new ideas that perhaps is something that I take for granted.

without further ado;

Chopping Wood- Take 2 

Chopping wood has become somewhat second nature to me as I live out my days in the woods. Though not second nature enough that I no longer have to think about it, but something that I now know will either be a weeks worth of work a couple of times throughout the winter or a daily task that brings me comfort, a way to de-stress and get back to my little world away from the world.

I am currently not gathering my own wood, as I am without chainsaw, or truck. But I do hold hope that next season I will be equipped to do so. Wood in the Yukon averages $225-$250 per cord. Last winter I worked my way through about 4.5 cords. This winter has been a bit more mild, but during cold snaps (week long stints of about -35 to -48) it seems that the stove eats the wood, quickly enveloping each log with its heat and turning it into ash.

When I first began chopping wood there was a certain amount of hesitation when swinging the axe. Unsure of my swing and my ability to keep all of my limbs while wielding such a sharp apparatus, I was cautious. I mean if it can slip through a tough piece of wood like butter, what's to say it won't do the same with my leg.  I used to stare wide eyed at the people who would simply pick up the axe and swing without much thought to their distance, speed, or follow through. They always seemed to hit their mark, or obliterate a huge piece of wood, with (what I thought) was great force in just a few swings, and turn it into the perfect size for stacking.

But what I have learned is that it's not about the force with which you strike the log. It's about finding the right spot, the spot that the log is almost begging to be split at, and hitting it with a swift movement.  No hesitation. Follow-through. Looking not only to split the log you are chopping but the one below it. Looking beyond the simple task and seeing your movement continuing with a forward motion towards the end.

When you find that 'sweet-spot' the wood splits like butter and before you know it you have accomplished in a short time what may have in the past taken you hours, or even days. Your arms become stronger, and the motion that once felt clunky, awkward and foreign becomes easy and routine.

Learning this lesson was a difficult one, but is something that has helped me to find the sweet-spot and follow-through to the holding log.

 It involves staying present, getting the mind under control, practicing love and compassion.

Clear your mind….Chop wood, Carry Water.

Much like in life... it takes time to learn how to follow-through, and trust that the holding log will be there. It's about finding that holding log, a steady base that will help you find the place where you can clear your mind, and let yourself go, without hesitation. That's when the things you  never thought you could do, happen and they happen much easier than you ever imagined they could.

If you try to force a log to break, it never will.

What We Win - looking at positivity/negativity and winning at life

I made a statement to a friend the other day: "I always win." It was meant to be nothing more than a quip, as I certainly have never seemingly 'won' anything in my life. However, over the next couple of days this retort took on a very new meaning.

Every day I was asked by this friend "so what did you win today." To which we recounted for each other all of the things that could seemingly be 'wins' for us that day...

"I didn't get stuck in the snow"
"I got to spend 6 hours with children making movies"
"I got to help people find awesome books that they will really enjoy"
"I was able to help out a friend in need, and do yoga with them"
"The sun shone down (giving me vitamin D), and the birds were singing to me as I shoveled my driveway for 3 hours this morning!"


It forced me to look at the daily tasks of my life in a new and different way. Instead of getting upset that I ran out of propane when I was in the middle of baking muffins, it became "I was able to go into town and get a free coffee from the a nice man at the gas station."

These little shifts in perspective have made a huge difference in my life, and can make in anyone's who cares to benefit.

I have always been a little bit skeptical of the "think positive and you will be happy" mentality. Having generally had a fairly positive disposition my entire life I often found that it seemed forced, or even fake to just put a smile on your face and turn the heart-wrenchingly difficult situation around.

Because lets face it... some things are simply just negative, painful and wrong. There is no smile that is going to cure it. It will only mask the real issue, and eventually cause more pain. Dealing with these realities and moving on to something more positive seems to be a far more enticing tactic... for me anyways.

 But this seemed like a nice compromise. Something to make your day seem brighter. It is a way to look at something, like shoveling snow for 3 hours, that may not be your favourite thing to do, in a way that makes you feel like you have accomplished something wonderful, and be thankful for that opportunity.

It is a way to look back on your day and be thankful for all the beautiful moments as well, not simply because you had to switch the negatives into the positives, but because you were able to see the small things that may have otherwise passed by, and can appreciate the people, things and world that is right in front of you, instead of focusing on the things or people that "did not" or "have not."

What a world.

What did you win today?

I get to live here..... ;)

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