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

Why write

Why do we write?
its a curious question that only few can really answer.
One thing that I am not even sure i am capable of.  However, I have found myself contemplating this again and again throughout my life so far.

rant begin:
sometimes its hard to express what we are thinking, sometimes we have people in our lives that we just want to tell how much we love and cherish them and their friendship, love and compassion, but we don't know how.
sometimes we see something and are unable to say just the thing that displays the intense beauty that we find within it.
there are so many things that are confusing and wondrous and understated and there has to be an outlet to express them.
this may be why we, that write, do. It's something to explain to others how they feel at certain moments, moments that cant seem to capture in a way themselves. it captures that instant and brings it to life once again. something that is a memory or a present feeling that cant be simplified in a few words.
then why is it so hard to convince others that this is what we are meant for. the simple few who write because they know nothing else. The few that can only understand in words what they see, can only bring to life in long standing promises the things that we feel or see around us. It is this that draws writers forward. The urgent need to share these stories with others, to wrap our words around that instant and express it fully is

Songwriters write about lost loves, hearts breaking, happiness and solace. Often bringing us to tears, or pure unrequited bliss. poets make us look into ourselves and show us what is happening within a story, our story, their story. Journalists bring to life a story of someone or something that is a moment in time, novelists capture long standing events in time, real or not that allow us to imagine the impossible. Until that moment, when we see it put into print. They create magic. That is the moment that captures the innermost desires of our hearts, bringing us to a completely different place, a euphoric state that we somehow could not reach on our own.


The dogs made me do it. I promise.

Love, the northern acorn.

Cabin Life#2: Arrival

I have been struggling for a while with writing a post with some meaning behind it. something that shows the true essence of what it is that my life here in the yukon has been like. something different from the mundane everyday occurrences that so often plague the deep spaces of our minds.

When i first arrived in Whitehorse, I was relieved to have finally finished my journey, yet i didn't know that i was just beginning a new one. I didn't take the time to notice the small things around me, to really embrace the change that was about to take over me.

The sun had not yet set. the mountains surrounding the town were a lush green and filled with a magnificent wonder that i would hope to know. rivers and lakes shone in the early evening light bringing with them a question of their depth, and what lay beneath the surface of their beauty. The city came upon me initially as one of the many towns I had since been through. The buildings were placed tightly together in a small central area. Mostly businesses surrounded me, but if you looked closely you could see the tiny remnants of the past that lay between their dark exteriors; each one telling you its story.

As I headed to my destination, anxious to leave the confines of my car and wrap my arms around someone familiar I felt like this city was something unlike I had ever been to. The traffic was moving slower than i had been traveling in the past and I could swear that every car I passed, even though their windshield was cracked, or they had dents from animals in the sides, they were smiling; welcoming me to the town in their own way. Yes, this place was different. I pulled up outside of my friends work and began smiling in spite of the fatigue that I had been experiencing, in spite of everything that the past 5 days had been, and meant.

After we filled our bellies with delicious homemade pizza and local beer my friend and I headed to the place that was to be my new home. Leaving the city center and heading back on the same highway that I entered this place on. It seemed surreal. It was somehow fitting that driving to my new home began a the very place I had exited the highway. The mountains began to surround me completely and I was nervous for this new kind of life. We drove and drove further away from the center, until there were only trees, lakes, and mountains engulfing us like a birds wing around its young. Bringing comfort and silence all at once. We pulled into the long driveway and began the journey even deeper into the woods, passing by fences, with large welcoming gates announcing to everyone the desire to protect from the wilds but to welcome visitors to their homes.

When we first pulled up at the cabin I was immediately hit with how absolutely beautiful it was. Was this really where i was to be living. A place so remote, so quiet, so far from everything. I was filled with relief, wonder and absolute fear all at the same time. The four walled one room cabin is made of logs, with nick-nacks of the previous residents strewn all about, both visible and not. The elk antlers spoke of the wild that surrounded the place, pieces of wood strewn about the property showed the hard work that was required through the long winters to keep warm, to keep alive, a room with only the basic necessities available spoke of a more simple life that so many before me had strived to live. the smoke from the chimney filled the air and i shuffled my feet entering the cabin, holding on to just this one moment. My heart began to race and the wind picked up in the trees around me, and they whispered the secrets of the other people who had come to this special place. It was a place where you would be isolated, completely alone with just yourself, and that... is absolutely wonderful.

Cabin Life #1: The Beginnings

I am pretty sure that most people who end up living in cabins come about it fairly innocently. I know this cant be said for all people but in my experience this is the way it is. A friend tells you of the beauty of living the simple life. somewhere far away from all of the hustle and bustle of the world, where one can really reflect on their life, while getting their hands dirty and building up a strength, not only physically, but characteristically and emotionally as well.

I'm telling you: It's true... if you make it so.

It involves staying present, getting the mind under control, practicing love and compassion.  Clear your mind… Chop wood, Carry Water.

Living in the Yukon has been somewhat of a whirlwind for me so far. It has been very challenging mentally physically and emotionally. I never imagined that I would be living in a place like this, but I am excited to see what challenges it holds for me. I want to let the world show me what it has in store for me, and keep myself open to these beautiful new experiences with positivity and good vibrations. coming from a life where things shave always been, a,b,c... this could be difficult at times, so lets go on a journey.

I hope to document the progressions of the cabin life as i learn them. Whether it be accomplishments of failures or just learning curves. It might get dirty, but lets get into it.

The Cabin

So far, a general day includes:

get up with the sun. birds, squirrels and wind in the trees. the heaviness of the night worn off.
make some coffee and head out into the woods for a nice morning walk, and to say hello to my neighbors horse that often comes to the fence for a little snack and to say hello.
chop wood.
make fire.
carry water.
make a breakfast of whatever sustenance has been acquired in my fridge.
stoke fire.
chop more wood.
yoga in the woods.
depending on the day; go shower and head into town for work at the lovely book shop I have so serendipitously been afforded a lovely position at.
enjoy the smell of old books, and the company of my co-workers and the townsfolk.
drive home, careful not to hit any animals.
chop wood.
reset fire.
check out the interwebs for a while.
meditate on the day.
read.
nighty night.

There are many times when i find myself lonely and feeling lost in the woods. When I look around and I don't see all of the caring faces that I'm so used to seeing, when I come home and there is no one there to hug me and welcome me home. When i just need to see the beautiful smile of my amazing nieces, the one that can make even the darkest day seem sunshiny, or when I just need a glass of nice wine and an afternoon of girl talk. all of these things are out of reach. It's just me, alone. However, i am so thankful for these moments as well. I am on a journey, one that i never anticipated, one that makes me kick, scream, cry, and laugh at myself. I have beautiful moments to myself that i am learning to cherish.

Today I made a little video of the thing I seem to do the most of when I am alone, chop wood. It is unlike anything I have ever done, I often find myself laughing while doing it as the world just melts away and I literally generate a source of heat for myself. I'd like to see how I progress in technique along the way...  I have now filled three bins full of small wood as my fear of the encroaching winter deepens with each snow capped mountain range.

(please forgive my form, I'm slowly progressing, but I have only just learned how to wield an axe.)