Nirvana of the north Day 19 Part 1

The location above is Atlin Lake in British Columbia. To find it, we drove an hour south-east from Whitehorse, and turned south for an hour on highway 7 (Atlin Road). It was an excellent road, athough it downgraded somewhat when we crossed from the Yukon into BC.  We only saw 3-4 other vehicles and we made excellent time, passing several beautiful finger lakes set between mountains. But we had no warning for the stunning scenery that was waiting for us on the other end. In all our travels on this trip, Atlin Lake, hands down takes first place for beauty and atmosphere.

Instead of including a number of photos in this first blog entry on Atlin Lake, I just want to introduce you a bit to this extraordinary community before I send you the visual confirmations.

George Miller, a German immigrant found gold in Pine Creek in the area of Atlin Lake in 1898 and told his brother Fritz who, with his friend Kenneth McLaren of Nova Scotia located the creek and quickly found the fortune in gold they were seeking. In a flash, Atlin became the centre of a huge gold rush, teeming with thousands of hopeful adventurers, and these in turn triggered the building of brothels, saloons, hotels, banks, restaurants, and stores. Sawmills ran 24 hours a day. Boats brought the new gold seekers and  goods by boat across the Taglish Lake and Atlin River. It was a huge boom town. Even today, gold can still be panned in the nearby creeks.

Fast forward to today, and the year-round population has shrunk to about 400 people. The community is divided between the local Taku River Tlingit First Nation who has its own form of government, and everyone else who do not have any form of local government. Atlin Lake is "unincorporated" which means it is neither village, nor town, nor municipality. It does not have a mayor or a reeve or a chief. Atlin deals with this by doing everything itself for itself. It operates almost entirely on volunteers. Now this is particularly admirable when you consider that the residents provide fire protection, ambulance service, search and rescue, senior respite care, meals-on-wheels, Junior Canadian Rangers, a recreation centre that includes curling and bingo, a skating rink, a childrens' playground and softball field, the PIne Creek Campground, internet service, etc etc etc.  There is only one elected body in Atlin,  the Atlin Community Improvement District. Their mandate is to provide drainage, fire protection, sidewalks, solid waste disposal, street lighting, water works, and to represent the community to provincial  agencies on land use matter. In addition to all these tasks, the "town" also has restored many of its historic buildings, written grant applications for funding, supervised projects, wielded hammer and nails, and managed the venues.

This is one mighty extraordinary little community. Photos to follow.

Barbara Rick and Flossie the gold diggin' dawg

Fwd: HUmble Pie August 3 Part 1 of 2 : Repost

This is a confession to those readers with whom I share a history of PSU classes from Wayne Suttles. You all know that for decades I have studiously avoided any serous interest in "Indians of North America" and in particular "Indians of the Pacific North-West".  Sigh. First it was the Fort McPherson residents who courted my affection, and now I have to add the Selkirk people and their chief Big Jonathan. Oh rats. More crow to digest…

xxx to all you former student friends (and others)

Barbara Rick and Flossie

Fwd: Humble pie Part 2 :Repost

Big Jonathan House Heritage Centre. Paintings of the Selkirk People in their daily tasks.

This location at Pelly Crossing in the Yukon Territory is the only new venue on the trip south (we are currently using the same route as the trip north). In the future, only expect entries for new routes. I believe that the next one will be the drive in to Atlin Lake in Northern BC.

Barbara Rick and Flossie

Dempster Recap...

Hello everyone. as of Friday evening (Aug 3) Barbara and I are tucked in to a RV campsite back in Whitehorse, Yukon. Even though we did not make it to Tuktoyaktuk on the Arctic Ocean it was still an unbelievable trip and worth every minute of it. The scenery was spectacular and the people we met along the way only enhanced the experience. 

The trip was not with out its challenges though. We traveled 1056 miles/1700 KM on a gravel (crushed rock) road that varied from very smooth where we were able to drive at 80-90 kmh (50-55mph) to rough washboard that slowed us down to 20-30kmh (15-20 mph) in areas. In addition, there had been rain in the northern parts of the highway on our return trip and we were coated with brown clay mud from front to back. Below is a picture of our truck and trailer at the Arctic circle marker on the return. After getting back to Dawson the truck and trailer went under the Car Wash Pressure washer to remove as much of the mud as possible.

The next challenge we discovered was a broken spring hanger on the left rear of the trailer axle. This is the part that attaches the axle leaf spring to the frame of the trailer. The hanger had separated completely from the frame and was hanging down loose from the spring. When I discovered the problem we were about 40km/25 miles from from Eagle Plains, the midway point service center on the Dempster highway. We limped down the highway at a slow speed and drove straight to the repair shop. They had me pull in the the repair bay and with in an hour they had welded the bracket back onto the frame. It looks a little rough and I will have to have it redone when we get home, but it did the job for now. The man that did the welding told me that I was the fifth one he has repaired in the last two weeks.

Some where under that mud is a window on the back of the trailer! In the repair bay at Eagle Plains.

The repaired spring hanger...

And lastly…. Somewhere between Eagle Plains Thursday morning and arriving in Dawson City that afternoon, our 14 year old refrigerator in the RV gave up. The interior temperature was up to 5c/45f and rising. No doubt the excessive vibration from the trip has done it in. We have bought a ice chest.

A final photo of our mud fest while parked in the campground at Eagle Plains. Note, on the trailer I had washed the rear window at the back so we could see out from inside.,

On a lucky note, as recommended, I had taken two extra spares for the truck and two for the trailer, but we did not have a single flat tire on the entire Dempster trip.

Rick Barbara and Flossie

Day 16 - Fort McPherson Pt. 2

Before leaving the Information Centre, the young woman asked me to fill out a form asking for opinions on how they could improve their visitor centre. I suggested that perhaps a map might enhance their information. She asked me if I meant a map of the village. (I actually didn't). I explained that I thought a map of their entire territory might be of interest to people, and especially if they could identify how they use it (in other words a cultural as well as environmental map). She liked that idea. I mentioned that many people would like to know more about their daily lives and activities and she liked that one too. I wanted to suggest things that could be added to their own interpretation of self, to include what outsiders might also be interested in knowing.

The village is compact and arranged so that everything is within walking distance with houses interspersed here and there. They have a wealth of community resources and venues: a curling rink, 

The band office

A recreation centre

A fire hall

In addition they have a very nice school and a small hospital.

We were also very pleased to visit their very important industrial creation: the Fort McPherson Tent and Canvas Company. This company is owned and operated by indigenous villagers, employing 8 of the village members. It makes many pieces of canvas products such as tents and sled dog covers, clothing, back packs, duffle bags and so forth. Their credit card machine was down when we went, so I spent all of my remaining food money on 2 duffle bags and a lizzie bag (a vertical duffle with a top that closes with a draw string). 

Outside, we crossed over the road to the board walk, and I stopped to scrape off the mud from my shoes. Three Gwich'in were walking up the boardwalk and they smiled and commented on the mud. From there they introduced themselves, James Beaver (on the right) who was born in the village but doesn't live there now, and Larry, a native from Alaska and James' wife Cathy. We figured out later that they were there for the Music Festival at Midway Lake, south of town. We had a good chat, James told me that his ancestor had paddled for Mackenzie in the exploration of the river in the late 1700s. He was very proud of that. We turned to walk up the boardwalk together and I stumbled. Larry grabbed me and the took my arm and gently led me up the pathway. I was, afterall, an elder.

Bless these people. They showed us in just a few hours, the heart of their community. We now go home to learn more. Their history is our history too, and nowhere else could I be made to feel the union.

Below, Barbara Larry and James Beaver on the bkard walk

Barbara Rick and Flossie

Day 16 Fort Mcpherson

We had stopped at Fort McPherson on the way up and decided to stop and see more on the way back. It was a marvellous discovery. 

I am still learning more abut this amazing little community, and going home with intentions to learn more. It was everything that Inuvik was not. People engaged us. The history informed us. The buildings, people and their activities enlightened us about how special this little community is to the Gwich'in people.

Modern house.

Unidentified structure.

The new Information Centre, manned by volunteers.

The Information Centre. We spent a lot of time here. The young woman on duty encouraged us to stay, to try her smoked dried whitefish which she declared to be the best food "I love it" she declared with a blush.

This new Information Centre is in the process of explaining to the world about the Gwich'in people. It has walls decorated with what they think explains to us about them. Part of it is history (a copy of the 1921 Treaty in which their chief ceded their territory to King George V hangs on the wall), valued books of the Gwich'in language lie on a table for us to see and admire. (only one elder retains ability on the Gwich'in language). One large section of the wall is decorated with photographs of the village people, most of the them are the highly valued elders of the community. I did not ask if all them were living or not. In one corner they had set up a table with coffee for visitors and we were encourage to have one (which we did). We briefly chatted about the Whitefish and other things that they hunted (ducks, geese and swans she said). I asked if they hunted for their eggs, and she laughed and said no. What about the feathers, do you use them for anything? And she looked perplexed at such a ridiculous thought, and then said no. We both laughed. Today the Gwich'in continue to hunt and fish traditional foods, which are supplemented by modern foods available to them in the large community store.

I wanted to stay all day and ask more questions, but I was too occupiued with examining all their communal treasures hanging on the walls. What a statement of how they thought of themselves. Everything important to them was there.

The girl asked us if we were going to stay for the music festival at Midway Lake. Unfortunately we could not. She looked downcast. Her attitude told us that this was a big BIG event for the community. Later we were to learn that it was a big BIG event for the whole area including Inuvik and other communities. We did see them setting up huge tents at Midway Lake after we left. We wished we could have witnessed that event.

The village of Fort McPherson was simply amazing. 

Photo: Visitor Info Centre

A central place for the village was St Mathew's Anglican Church, just around the corner from

the Information Centre. The  graveyard was immaculate, and the graves well tended and decorated 

with flowers. One grave we saw was entirely covered with flowers and then covered with a sheet of plastic to protect from the rain.

Another grave was obviously for a child as it had a construction over it that looked like a wooden crib.

Also in this graveyard are the 4 bodies of the lost patrol (RCMP), who left Fort McPherson with inadequate support and expired in the winter snow in 1911. They say that if they had had Gwich'in guides with them, the tragedy would have been averted.

Barbara Rick and Flossie

Day 16 Part 1

Do you believe in fate?  I must admit that I do.

We left Inuvik feeling a bit down.  The weather did not help. It was gloomy. Nobody was on the road, except a large transport trailer that passed us in a sea of mud. By the time we got to the crossing of the Mackenzie River, we caught up to him.

We were parked next to other on the ferry, the only two vehicles. He leaned out of his window and started a conversation with us. Seeing that it was going some place, he decided to step down and hang over our window and have a good chat. When he heard our disappointment about not making it to Tuk, he chided me jovially "oh all you ladies just want to put your toes in the Arctic Ocean". I confessed that was true.

Then he said a remarkable thing. He said "nah, you didn't miss anything. Nothing to see up there, nothing worth the trip". Then he proceeded to tell us about himself. He tried retirement but that didn't work, and he went back to trucking. I saw the Inuvik sign on his truck so I innocently asked him if that is where he lived. He looked shocked. "Me? No way" he said. "I live in Fort Smith". My head reeled. "Where is that?" I asked, hopelessly lost. "He explained. "What you people need to see is the Decho" he continued, "That is God's country. Herds of Buffalo, flocks of Whooping Cranes. And trees. Not like here at all". We asked him in a state of total bewilderment exactly where he trucked out of, and he told us Edmonton. Edmonton??  Somehow, we were being educated a lot about the nature of trucking in the western sector of our country. He then explained about the Decho region and how beautiful it was and how we could manage to get there in just 2 days from where we were. Rick admitted that he had considered that route before and the trucker said "just do it".

So we gained more than we had lost as we now had a new destination. A new exploration. We instantly felt better. Next year the Decho. 

Thank you Mr Trucker, whoever you are. A guardian travel angel. Maybe we will look you up some day in Fort Smith.

Barbara Rick and Flossie