Carrie’s Ramblings

Principles for Survival1
Carrie posted in Fan favourites on July 30th, 2007

Since the majority of my family reads this blog regularly I have to censor its contents regarding our just finished Wallace family reunion: Toronto. That could be a reality show title. We even had a citronella torch out at one point. “The next person who speaks at the same time as another or raises her voice above 50 decibels is SO off the island!” But we all survived and nobody even had to go to the hospital; a first for our gatherings I think. Our wine cellar is in serious need of replenishing and we’ll be finding dishes in strange places for the next two weeks but the house is still standing and we’re all still friends:) If ever you should find yourself immersed deep within a Wallace family gathering here are some tips that will help you survive the encounter.

Principles for Survival In the Wallace Clan By John Wallace

(Which is really the Williams Clan; see Principle Two)

1. Always remember, volume trumps everything. When in doubt, shout it out!

2. This is a matriarchal society. In keeping with the Orwellian standard, women and men are equal; it’s just that women are more equal than men.

3. If anyone makes a mistake—particularly a grammatical one—it is important to bring it to that person’s attention immediately and publicly. This is known as a teaching moment. This technique can be used even if the error wasn’t really an error at all. In this instance, remember Principle One, volume trumps all.

4. People are eager to hear your opinion on any topic. (Don’t forget Principle One.) The less you actually know about the topic the more interesting your opinion is likely to be.

5. Conversation is enhanced if multiple streams are flowing at the same time. If you hear one person talking, jump in with your own thoughts or observations. In these instances it is important to remember Principle One.

6. Nature abhors a vacuum. Silence is an aural vacuum. Random words are acceptable if that’s all you have and, of course, remember Principle One.

7. People not physically present are fair game for ridicule. If you leave the room it is better if you give the impression that you will be returning at any moment. This will not protect you entirely, but it does reduce the chances of walking in on a critique of all your flaws, real and imagined.

8. When all else fails, remember Principle One.

Leaving on a jet plane…well, maybe not…1
Carrie posted in Uncategorized on July 20th, 2007

I left it all until the last minute. So much goodness crammed into my last days in the Yukon. Of course, summer decided to make it’s first appearance just as I was leaving which was doubly frustrating but at least I enjoyed every last minute of it.

On Sunday Ryan and I took advantage of a beautiful day to paddle along the shores of Fox Lake. Fox Lake is HUGE! But the sky was cloudless and the wind was calm and the water was so clear you could see the bottom as though you were looking through a window. I wanted to jump in and enjoy it but I’ve learned from experience that Yukon water is not something you enjoy.

Monday it POURED rain ALL DAY. It was actually impressive how much it rained. Especially for Whitehorse.

Tuesday was spent on the road driving the South Canol Road. George and Heather were starting a 7-day trip down the Big Salmon River and needed some friends to do a car drop so Diane and I had the honor of being chosen. I was thinking this was going to be a 4-hour thing, up and back in the morning and then I’d have the rest of the day to do things. Well then we found out it was more like a 6-hour drive to do the loop. George’s directions were: Well you’ll be driving along and then you’ll notice this big huge valley and you’ll think, “There’s gotta be a river down there!” and there will be so you’ll see the Yukon below the cliff you’re on and ahead of you there’ll be a bluff sort of rock face and somewhere around there you can leave the truck. Excuse me? Diane and I stared him down and said we were not driving a metre without better directions that than. So we pulled out a map and figured it out. I couldn’t help but ask George, “What’s this dotted line here?” And his was response was, “Oh that’s the South Canol Road you’re on.” Oh. Turns out it was going to be more like an 8-hour drive. That’s fine, I can handle that.

I said we should leave as early as possible and voted for 7 am. They asked for 8. 7:30am and we had a deal. So 8am when we pulled out of the driveway…

THEN! Then we turned off the Alaska Highway onto the South Canol Road. This is after we’ve passed through the booming metropolises of Jake’s Corner and Johnson’s Crossing (I missed them because I blinked). The highway we turned onto is only open in the winter and frankly only barely open in the summer. Little more than a single track there were actually points with grass growing up the centre! But the scenery was unbelievable! This road took us where no RV could follow…We drove through 500 km of mountains and valley with crystal clear streams and moose and bears and alpine meadows. We drove though so many different habitats and microclimates it was like one big geography lesson. If ever you’re in the Yukon and the bridges are in tact, take the time to drive the South Canol Road.

So 12 hours later we made it home.

After spending the next 2 hours playing Ultimate and then packing and trying desparately to get my bags under the required weight I fell asleep and SLEPT THROUGH MY ALARM! I woke up at 7 am on the dot to the sound of my Air Canada flight leaving without me!!!! I had a melt down and a freak attack and once that was over pulled myself together with the some and figured out what to do. Air Canada said they could only get me on the flight out of Whitehorse at 7:30 that night!! So I called Air North and asked about their next flight which left in approximately half an hour and they said sure they could get me on for $780. So I decided it was time to call in some favours. A quick call to some friends in high places and I got on the Air North flight for the lowest possible fare and sat with my hands and fists clenched for all 2 hours and 19 minutes of the flight. I didn’t really care where it went as long as it was a city that had more than 2 flights leaving in a day! I practically ran off the plane in Vancouver and grabbed my bags (which where there right away I’d like to add…none of this 1-hour wait for luggage like with other airlines…I love Air North) and raced up to Departures to figure out how much money I was out and what could be done about it. Eventually I figured out my best bet was WestJet flight leaving just before 2 pm and checked my luggage on to that one. Only then did I have the time to call my parents and let them know what the heck was going on and that I would be in to Toronto a little later than planned. All’s well that end’s well but it was a bit traumatic.

I made it home and it spent most of my first day back in this tropical paradise raining. Apparently I’m the rain magnet that ruined summer in the Yukon. It was good enough for me:)

Farewell campfire2
Carrie posted in Uncategorized on July 15th, 2007

Why does it seem like people throw really good parties when you’re leaving?

Last night Heather and I hosted my Farewell potluck/BBQ/campfire. I invited pretty much everyone I had ever met in Whitehorse which made for an interested collection of people. I had some friends from the hostel and Ultimate and neighbours and co-workers…it was so much fun!

The weather was honestly the first day of gloriously warm, summer weather we have had all summer. Ryan and I had spent the day climbing in Golden Canyon where the sun was on the rocks and the breeze kept the bugs down. Then when I got home it was so hot (yes, that’s right, I said ‘hot’) that Heather and I took the mountain bikes up the trail to where the beaver had damned the MacIntyre Creek and went for a swim. SWIMMING IN THE YUKON! Not only that, Heather being the total Hippie that she is and me being the total Hippie wannabe that I am (Yuppie with a granola edge) decided that the middle of the day would be a perfect time to go skinny-dipping. The green space where we were mountain biking is right between the subdivision of Porter Creek and Takhini North behind the college and I was concerned that someone would see us. She said, “Who’s going to see us way out here?” but I thought of the fact that I walk by there twice a day walking the dogs and usually run into other people! But we were safe and enjoyed a little dip in the pond. I might have giarrdia now but oh well.

But the weather was so perfect for the BBQ! We sat out on the deck and consumed copious amounts of beer and wine and had good steaks and BBQ’d pineapple and perogies as well. Corn on the cob, some salads and of course ice cream for dessert. We just sat and talked and enjoyed each other’s company. But was as soon as the sun went behind the trees we had to run and get more layers on. It was freezing!!! We got the fire going and I had jeans and a sweatshirt and vest and toque on…I could have been warmer if I had put socks on but I refused to go that far and just warmed my barefeet on the firepit rocks:) Again we sat and talked and drank some more…it was nice. Soon it was getting dark and we thought it might be time to wrap it up only to realise it was 2AM! Because it was only dusk outside we just didn’t realise how late it had gotten! But I had such a good time and I was glad that so many people came and enjoyed themselves:)

The thing about Whitehorse though is that even though all the people were there because I had met them along the somewhere, everyone seemed to know everyone else through other means too. They dated friends of others or met up at the music fest or worked at the college together or whatever! Forget 6 degrees of separation this was like .7 degrees. It’s just too bad that we waited until I was leaving before having such a good party!

Only in the Yukon can you go to a great band at the bar at night, see a Horned Owl on the light post on your way home (very Harry Potter-styles), sleep in until 10 the next day, relax in the hotsprings, spend a couple of hours doing some great climbing, come home and jump on the mountains to skinny-dip in the middle of day, be close enough to friends and family to have a huge party that night and enjoy a campfire in your own backyard while wearing your toque and sipping hot tea. All we needed to do was throw some whitewater in there to round it off!

New addy0
Carrie posted in Uncategorized on July 13th, 2007

Hey all,

Mike came home today and so I made my exit from Falaise Road. Maya was incredibly confused because she was so excited that Mike was moving in but still concerned that I was leaving. Poor girl, it was sad to leave her:(

I’ve moved back to Heather’s place in Takhini North and have changed my contact information accordingly. The number here is 393-3744 but won’t be applicable for too much longer since I only have a couple of days left.

Over complicated grass cutting devices0
Carrie posted in Interest articles on July 12th, 2007

You know what’s wrong with the world today? Over complicated lawn mowers. Lawn mowers should not be that difficult to use. Pull cord, push mower. They should be at about the same level as glorified sheep with no poo. People of today’s society, that is the society that actually needs to mow its lawn, have enough stress in their lives without adding the complications of technologically bloated grass-cutting apparatuses.

Having to mow the lawn of a duplex is especially frustrating because people with small yards insist on making the most of their space by cramming every lawn ornament possible into a space the size of my swimming pool. It’s bad enough that their garden is full of god’s weeds, now I have lawn ornnaments to deal with. That being said, I find that the most frustration comes from the fact that I have to mow the lawn at all. Not because I mind mowing lawns but because of the motions I have to go through to mow such a pathetic piece of lawn. Because of the aforementioned semi-arid climate of Whitehorse (see “Messengers of God”), the lawn really only has these islands of grass that are too long and then extended patches of deadness. Of course, Flanders next door has a perfect lawn. I’m not bitter or anything but I may or may not look the other way if Maya has to pee in that area.

But the mower itself is really the root of this problem. After prying the huge machine out from the tiny garden shed (tiny yard = tiny shed, though if your yard is really that small why is the shed necessary in the first place?), I realise that it’s out of gas. Fortunately there is gas in the shed but nnnnooooOOOOOO, it’s not that easy. First you have to figure out if it takes straight gas or mixed gas. You’d think they could just standardise it. I have a similar issue with debit machines: why can’t the stripe always be facing in or always facing out? Why can’t it be consistent? However, using my extensive mechanical know-how I determined that I had no clue which kind of gas it took so I decided to just run the mower until it ran out and then drive off the next bridge when I came to it. Enter Problem Number 2. Or maybe we’re on Problem 57? I’ve lost count…

No offence Dad, but I’m used to using very old and complicated garden machinery. You know the kind where you have rub the engine, spit in the gas, push the button, turn around three times and then pull the crank while touching your nose in the air to get it started? So, naturally, I’m looking for the little…squishy thing…the rubber bulb…that you push X number of times to…do something with the…mechanical parts. You know, that thing. But no rubber thing is to be found. I do find that whole the oil stick part though. Problem Number 56 may be solved.

So whatever, ignore squishy bulb thing and figure out how to start without it. God forbid someone should write START or STOP on the grass cutting devices. It’s like they’re anticipating that people who operate this machinery can’t read or something. Instead they have to put a little picture of a rabbit and a turtle. Okay, tortoise and the hare, slow and fast…but they both start and the both stop so how does that help me? I pick one and go for it. Oh wait, it’s not even that easy.

Next I’ve got “Blade control” and “Clutch”. They are two extra handles that you can hold on to while pushing the mower. What the heck does “Blade control” mean? Speed? Height? Angle? It’s a mystery. Then you have “Clutch”. I later figure out that in order to stop the machine you have to let the clutch out. Does this not seem backwards to any other application of the word “clutch” that you can think of? Why do lawn mowers have the right to oppose the basic laws of physics where one normally pushes the clutch IN to disengage engine? However, this being a complicated machine and determined to make me look like an idiot in front of all the neighbours (who can watch because the yard is so small and the houses are on top of each other), I fail to realise that releasing in the clutch is what stops the lawn mower until it’s dragging me across the lawn. I swear it was a like a slapstick movie. I push clutch in, pull chord, and lawn mower takes off across lawn and smashes into fence.

It’s a self-powered lawn mower! How lazy can you get? Not only is the lawn teeny tiny, in need of mowing twice a summer, and completely flat, I don’t even have to push the lawn mower? Okay that’s fine, bonus for me except that I can barely keep up to the thing. And then when I want to back up (I have to let the clutch out) there’s this huge resistance so that I have to double my energy expenditure just get back out from between the lawn ornaments. Plus, when I want to move the many lawn ornaments out of the way I have to let go of the handle and, OH! guess what? “Blade Control” means Start and Stop. I was this close to finding duct tape and just taping the stupid thing On so I could finish the lawn. And there are only 2 speeds: Stop and REALLY FAST. So the finer points and hard-to-reach places were done by an oversized lawn mower smashing into things. It was the most ridiculous lawn mowing experience in my life. It even beats the time I almost drove the tractor into the swimming pool. Fortunately, in this semi-arid climate, I may never have to do it again.

Mountain biking in the Yukon0
Carrie posted in Recreation on July 12th, 2007

The Yukon has a lot of mountain biking trails incredibly accessible, right in Whitehorse.

The Yukon also has a lot of sand.

I hate sand.

The Ibex2
Carrie posted in Recreation on July 8th, 2007

Yesterday I went bouldering at the Ibex. I don’t know, I didn’t name it. Nor did I get to see any sheep or goats, but it was still a good day. Recers name everything and usually have weird names. Some climbing route names I’ve heard have been things like “Timid Goldfish”, “Joe’s Lunch”, “Clutch Cable”, “The Aquarium”, “Conquering Army”, “Beaver Tail”, “The Cobra Crack”, “Discovery Route”, “Spiral Galaxie”, “ZigZag”, whatever! We drove down this gravel road that became a dirt road that became a sand and rock road that became a glorified ATV trail until we reached this bizarre landscape full of boulders. I could not believe the road we drove down or why it even existed or that we would ever get out again. I would have been cautious with an ATV but these guy seemed to know exactly what they were doing and 50 km later we were at the Ibex. Every year they host a bouldering festival there and bring in a stage and music and have stations and circuits and good food and all kinds of things in the middle of the bush! That’s awesome!! And the location is just perfect. Surrounded by rocky mountains and a lush green valley with patches of snow here and and there the Ibex is a young forest recovering from a forest fire about 50 years ago. Interspersed between the trees are HUGE boulders. Like, big rocks! Some of these boulders are the size of small houses or busses and as high as 5 metres. That’s a long way up for bouldering! It was neat because there were all these trails to the different rocks and when a couple more people showed up we set up different stations with the crash pads and you could just move around and try different problems. I could totally see why this was a perfect location for a climbing festival.

We climbed for a while and enjoyed trying to solve different problems with three totally different body types (makes each problem different for each person because you can’t always reach the same holds or bend the same way). Later on some others showed up and we would try to solve problems, challenge each other to new moves, or defeat a personal nemesis or two with people cheering you on and lots of hands ready to catch if you bail. Then this 14-year-old girl who’s home schooled and spends her winters climbing in Costa Rica totally schooled us. She’s at the perfect point when her strength to mass ratio is huge. So strong but doesn’t have that cumbersome upper body weight that will come soon enough. It was amazing to watch her get up some routes. I think I made 2 moves off of Clutch Cable but didn’t have the strength to do the free hanging chin up to keep going but she did it 2 tries. It made me smile to watch her show up the boys (because I certainly wasn’t putting on a clinic). So I have a couple of less layers of skin on my fingers and bit more of a tan on my face and it was a good day!

Grey Mountain0
Carrie posted in Recreation on July 5th, 2007

Today I joined the Yukon Conservation Society on a guided hike up Grey Mountain. Grey Mountain looks down over the city of Whitehorse but also provides a panoramic view of the surrounding landscape. It was pretty remarkable that you could climb up the mountain and look down on one side at the Yukon River and an urban centre such as Whitehorse and then turn around and view the unbroken wilderness on the other. No roads, no trails, just trees.

I was also blown away by the diversity of plant life and the colours that we found on top of the mountain. One man on the hike who was visiting Whitehorse from the UK commented that it reminded him of a part of Wales…the entirety of which could fit in the tiny section of Yukon valley down below us. There were so many flowers though! Too many to name. There were purples, blues, dozens of shades of yellow, reds, whites, oranges, and of course green. The limestone rocks that make up the mountain stuck up between the patches of tundra grasses, juniper bushes and knickknick (or maybe should it be that the vegetation patches were interspersed among the rocks?) either way, it reminded me the landscapes from the Lord of the Rings. I imagined that at any moment Aragon, Legolas, and Gimli were going to come lightly over the tundra and going our hike…but knowing my luck I would sooner expect be a herd of flesh-eating Orcs instead.

On the way up the hike we diverted our route to pass some caves of unknown origin. They were small and shallow but one was tunnel-like and I couldn’t see its end. I climbed up to the entrance of one cave using my rusty and unused rock climbing techniques and though I probably could have made it up to the first cave decided it wasn’t worth taking such an unecessary risk. I like my bones the way they are. But I was glad that I got to see the caves because the scheduled caving hike is planned for the 18th of July, but I fly out that morning. Since there were only 5 of us on the hike we all agreed that it would be cool to see the caves on our way up to the summit.

The summit was cool, you could see stuff, but that definitely wasn’t the highlight. There was good weather and it was good exercise but I would trade it all for the opposite for chance to see them again. As we approached the summit someone pointed across the small plateau on which we stood to 2 birds on the edge of the mountain. Being prepared for the first time since my arrival in Whitehorse I quickly reached into my bag to grab my binoculars to look at the alpine ptarmigans or whatever they might be. I practically had a freak out when I saw that instead I was starring at a pair of full grown Golden Eagles. UNBELIEVABLE!!! I couldn’t get over it! I’m so excited I quickly pass the binoculars around to the rest of the group so that they can get a look and tell me I’m not dreaming. At this point I’m all but jumping up and down on the mountain side. They were beautiful and HUGE and…just chilling. They weren’t even really scouting for prey and didn’t seem bothered at all by our presence. I wondered if they were possibly just juvenile bald eagles but they were positively identified by the rest of the group as a mating pair of Goldens. I could have watched them all day. Pete (the guy from Britain) pointed out that the scene was almost too good to be true. They sitting on the edge of a mountain, with the blue peaks in the background and outlined by a clear blue sky. It was post card material. Eventually they decided to see what was around and just opened their wings and stepped off the ledge. Never even flapped, just caught the updraft and soared up into the sky. ‘Soared’ finally seems like an appropriate word and not cliche. The word ’soared’ was probably developed for eagles because these two didn’t fly, they soared. I would do the hike again in a second if it meant seeing them again. But I would do again for the flowers too. And the view. And the fact that I met someone else to include in my research. It was a good hike all around. The eagles were just the icing on the cake:)

Volunteering for the Yukon River Quest0
Carrie posted in Recreation on July 2nd, 2007

I just had the best time ever helping with the Yukon River Quest! Oh it was so much fun!  In fact, I think I’m going to skip the working stage of my life and go straight to retirement just so I can have time to volunteer for things like this all the time!  When people asked me why I was involved (usually they’d ask which team I was waiting for and were surprised when I said I was just a volunteer and attached to no particular team) I’d tell them about wanting to get involved and being in Whitehorse to do research.  And they’d ask what about and I’d tell them and then joke that this was secretly an interview and everything they just told me was being recorded.  We laughed and had a great time!  Heaps of people kept volunteering to be interviewed but I’d have to gently let them know that since my research was about the community of Whitehorse, them being from Texas and just visiting the Yukon wasn’t really going to fit… But I made some great contacts both locally and internationally and I’ll definitely be fitting my return to the Yukon around the race next year.  I’d like to race in some capacity or another so I exchanged email addresses with a number of people. One girl who raced with her Dad this year said she was thinking of putting together a girls Voyageur team for next year and asked if I was interested.  If I can’t race then I’ll definitely volunteer again.  

I helped in Whitehorse for 2 days doing equipment checks and registration. There were 87 teams registered and we finished with 70 with only one scratching after Carmacks when his partner got sick and fell out of the boat at Five Finger Rapids. The race starts on Main Street with the gun going off and more than 160 people racing down 1st Avenue to the river and jumping in boats. Two Voyageur teams were off first and were leagues ahead of the pack by Carmacks. They were neck and neck until the bitter end when the Texas team widened the gap and team Kissynew couldn’t catch them. They almost beat the race record of 40 hours by coming into Dawson at 40 hours 2 minutes or something ridiculously small. They shattered the Voyageur record and have started a trend attracting highly competitive Voyageur teams. These guys were intense. Their seats were on rollers and they would paddle on one side for 30 seconds and someone would call out and they switched sides so fast they didn’t miss a beat. As we sent them away from Carmacks we watched them paddle off and when they switched sides this other guy and I looked at each other and said, “Did you just see that?!?!!?” Crazy intense. However one Voyageur team was the funniest story ever. Apparently there was more than a bit of tension in the boat between the bowman and sterman with the crew in the middle just wanting everyone to shut up and paddle. When they reached Carmacks the sternman got out of the boat and told them he never wanted to “$%#ing see them again” and proceed to walk down the highway. He hitched a ride back to Whitehorse wearing his wetsuit, paddle in hand. It was so funny for us but we felt bad because it meant that the whole team had to scratch. They continued on just as tourists anyway to finish the race and though they were too embarrassed to come to the closing banquet, the board was going to give them Finishers pins regardless just because it really sucked for them.

I drove a man from Anchorage’s car up from Whitehorse to Carmacks and was supposed to continue on to Dawson but plans changed suddenly. He and his Dad were giving the race another go (they had to scratch last time) but his Dad is 73 and was in quite a bit of pain after having paddled 30 hours straight to get to Carmacks. So they decided to scratch again and were prepared to head home. They offered to take me and Maya up to Dawson on their way through but I was still helping in Carmacks! So we thought about it and asked around and I found a ride with one of the board members up and back from Dawson so it worked out. I worked through the night (or as dark as it really gets) in Carmacks which was so much fun. Under the midnight sun we inspected gear, provided wake up calls and count downs for participants, helped them get their boats in the water and off they went to Dawson. I worked with some other great volunteers until about 3 am and then crashed for a couple of hours and got up to find the camp deserted except for those too sick or hurt to continue. Carmacks is a mandatory rest stop of 7 hours and people are really tired by the time they make it there. We would stand on the dock on the river and catch boats as they came by because the paddlers were so zonked that they couldn’t understand our instructions or what they should be doing other than paddling forward. I couldn’t believe some of their expressions as they landed. Sometimes it was relief but mostly it was this blank look of confusion and fatigue as if they weren’t sure if this was really the checkpoint or if it was just another hallucination. And there were plenty of hallucinations by both racers and volunteers. People saw tigers in the forest and old women doing their washing in the river or their partner was wearing a salmon as a hat or they could hear entire symphonies playing in the background. After spending the whole day on the dock I was convinced that the floor of the canteen was moving and was found looking underneath the deck trying to figure out the mechanics behind a swaying building. Some racers joked that they got more rest than the volunteers which in some cases was true! But it was so great to meet paddlers and their support crews from all over the world including Britain, Australia, Germany, Japan, Israel and heaps of Texans. I don’t know what it was with Texans and this race…I even found out later that 2 of the most active volunteers that night were actually just some hitchhikers that one of the board members picked up on the way to Carmacks! They talked about the race and offered to spend the night helping out! They were great and acted as the personal support crew to every single team that landed without their own crew. They set up their tent for them and did their laundry and cleaned out their boat while they slept!! It was fun!! Anyway, the next morning we cleaned up and headed up to Dawson.

Dawson City was creepy. It’s like a ghost town that people actually live in. The cute little tourist shop is squeezed in between the rotting stables and an abandoned brothel from the gold rush. In between the houses are log shacks that haven’t been updated since the turn of the century. In between volunteering at the finish line, I wandered the streets and checked out the shops. I am pleased to say that like Skagway and highly geared towards tourists at least most of the shops carry Yukon Made artisan souvenirs. Yeah you could get your cheap souvenirs still but there was a lot more authentic stuff. Like gold that was actually mined in the area and trade beads and paintings etc. However, the best part about my stay in Dawson was that I was rooming with a local and she knew where the real gems were. Off the beaten path is where I found some of the best shops and restaurants. I got to meet the locals and saw a whole different part of the city that the average tourist misses. That being said I did check out the museums and went to Diamond Tooth Gerties casino. I lost $10 playing Blackjack (Hey Big Spender!!) and only played because I got chips as change for buying a beer. Stupid tricky casino. I should have saved the chips to buy more booze. But I couldn’t believe how easily people threw away their money at the Texas Hold’em tables. Hundreds of dollars in the wrong card, in 2pair-Ace high whatever…I will never be a gambler. But I enjoyed the dancing show and afterwards went to the local’s bar known as the Arm Pit. This place was scary!! It’s the only surviving orginal building in Dawson and I was seriously concerned for the structural integrity of this place. I mean it had character but I could see where the ceiling was sagging and the floor was uneven because of permafrost. This honky-tonk local band of old guys was up playing and people were dancing and SMOKING! You can still smoke in the bars in Dawson: UGH! I left around 2 am and was stunned when I stepped outside and it was brighter than in the bar:) There were people wandering around the streets as though it were the middle of the day and I realised why young people kept telling me that Dawson is so awesome…it’s a party town. I wandered around for a bit and the whole scene reminded me of some of the staff quarters I’ve lived in. Drunks and drugs everywhere and an all night party. When the tourists are sleeping the students come to life and take over the dirt streets and wooden sidewalks. Amazing.

Anyway, the weather cooperated (it was unbelievably hot in Dawson!) and the race came off without any major problems. The final racer came in after 77 hours and 23 minutes of paddling over 740 km of river with only 10 hours of rest and he received the Yukon Stove award at the banquet. The stove is split in half because of the stories of frustration from the gold rush. Prospectors would come over the Chilkoot and build a boat on Lake Bennett and paddle down the Yukon but by the end of it would be so frustrated with the trials of the journey some partnerships were not salvageable. In the end they would have to split up their goods like a bad divorce and couldn’t agree on who got what so they would split everything down the middle. Everything included splitting whole boats and stoves in half! However, Joe was a solo canoeist and had no one to fight with so they gave him both halves of the stove to take home:)

I had such a good time with the River Quest and totally recommend it to anyone out there looking for a challenge and adventure. I’m in for next year!