Time Capsule

Today we cracked the Time Capsule. The school put it together back in 1999, and Wayne and Cindy certainly didn't expect to still be here when it came time to open it! Most of the people involved were able to show up for the grand opening, which was really nice. Everyone had a lot of fun looking at all the old photos, letters and other knick knacks.

We're thinking of putting together a new capsule at the end of this school year. I'm also considering making a personal one as well, to mark the beginning of my life in the North. I wonder where I'll be a decade from now, and how will I look back on this experience in Nahanni. A colourful chapter of my life, or a hint of things to come?

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas, everyone! No matter where you are in the world, I hope you have all had a wonderful day with family and friends.

Introduction to Yellowknife

The capital of the Northwest Territories is the 'biggest little town' you'll ever visit. Home to about 20,000 people and clustered around a spur of the shore of Great Slave Lake, it hums with hap-hazard energy.

Off and Away

On the 20th I departed for Yellowknife. The first leg of the journey, the road to Fort Simpson, was surprisingly straightforward: despite recent snowfall, the route was in good condition and Wayne and I were able to drive there in a little over two hours. Along the way we encountered flocks of ptarmagin, and interrupted a marten as he stalked a fat grouse.

Returning to the Liard crossing felt more than a little surreal - when I was last there I had been in the North for only a day, and had no idea what lay in store for me in Nahanni Butte. Where before I had watched the ferry ease into the powerful dark brown flow of the river, now there was a path etched onto the jumbled ice of winter. The ferry was slid up on the far bank, having been hauled out of the water on greased logs a few weeks ago.



My stay in Fort Simpson was brief - I had only to kill an hour or so before my departure, and I spent it watching the trucks clearing snow off the runway and wondering what I would find in Yellowknife. The flight itself was stunning: myself and the handful of other passengers loaded onto the First Air ATR with a minimum of fanfare, before sweeping off into a frigid sky as the sun sank below the horizon.



As we headed east and left the Dehcho, we crossed from the edge of the mountains to the vast plain that lies between the continental divide and Great Slave Lake. We drifted over countless lakes and lonely rivers, stretching away north into the deepening twilight. There were no signs of humanity, only a great desolation as far as the eye could see.


At last we descended through a final bank of clouds and the distant glow of Yellowknife appeared, huddled on the shore of the massive frozen lake. It was somewhat unsettling to see evidence of roads and buildings and shops and people and people and people - the 'big city', but still so small and insignificant against the dark immensity of the land.

Landing at the airport and my return to the Outside proved overwhelming in so many ways. I am still digesting everything, and the details will have to wait for a subsequentent entry. Stay tuned.

Done and Done

Class wrapped up today with a bit of work and a lot of fun. We spent the morning shoveling the snow from the ice rink and getting it ready for the holidays, and then there was a community feast in the gym. After that I took the kids out toboggoning at one of the local hills, and they ended up coaxing me onto one of their new sleds. So much fun! Everyone was really sad that I'm going to be out of town for Christmas, and they all shook my hand or hugged me when we said goodbye.

Speaking of which: I am theoretically leaving for Yellowknife on Sunday afternoon. Who knows if that will actually happen though, given the odd weather and the travel insanity facing my colleagues up in the Arctic and elsewhere. Doesn't matter, I'll get there eventually. This is the North, things will happen when they happen!

Christmas Concert

After a week of planning, rehearsal and organized chaos, the annual Christmas Concert has come and gone, and with it the 2009 school year! Amazing to think that we've made it to the end already. The next two days are just a relaxed mix of post-concert cleaning, holiday movies and tobogganing out at Little Butte.

The Concert itself went really well. There were holiday songs in Slavey, a skit and the younger children put on a puppet show. I also put together a slideshow of pictures from the school and around Nahanni, drawing on my own photos and ones taken prior to my arrival. The kids had a lot of fun and there was a great turnout from the community. Everyone was looking sharp in their Christmas best, and I think the night was a real success.

The night wrapped up with the appearance of a special guest - or at least a very determined imposter. Santa was unavailable due to scheduling conflicts, so as a favour to an old friend I agreed to fill in for him to distribute some presents to the children. I had the luxury of a top-class velour suit, but combined with a generous padded stomach it proved fiendishly warm. I confess those were not tears of mirth running down my face, but sweat!

Blackouts

Something is very wrong with the town power plant. Blackouts have been striking every few minutes, all day. With the temperature still hovering around -40°, this is bad news. I've been running hot water through my pipes, but I'm not sure how much good that will do if the power outages continue.

The Cold and the Dark

Winter tightens its grip on the Nahanni country. Tonight the temperature dropped to -42°, with gusts of wind sharpening it to an incredible -56°.

I walked into the forest, far from the lights of town. Trees groaned and popped, echoing along the trail. The steam of my breath gathered like a halo about me, catching on my hood and coating my face in ice. After a while I came to the bend, and slid down the bank to the river. I walked out onto the ice, the sky opening above me with stars stretching from horizon to horizon. Meteors flared, and a languid wave of aurora rolled across the northern horizon.

I stood out there for a long time, at home in the cold and the dark. I could hear the wind rushing in the mountains, and I marveled at the chain of circumstance that has led me to this place.

What a strange - and wonderful - world this is.

Shopping

Wayne, Cindy and I headed to Fort Nelson yesterday to get some shopping done before the holidays. The ice bridge opened officially on Wednesday, so instead of having to jaunt down to Blackstone we were able to drive directly to the Liard Highway. Crossing a frozen river in a vehicle is something of an experience; the path is wide and designated by marker trees, but you are very conscious of the fact that only 18 inches of ice separate you from the water. Usually you unbuckle your seatbelts before crossing, just as a precaution.

Fort Nelson was uninspiring as always, but the hotel was nice and it was good to be able to cruise around a supermarket again and load up on supplies. Not to mention having a shower that isn't dictated by the schizophrenic water pressure of the ad hoc plumbing in my cabin.

We were able to get our shopping done faster than expected, which meant we were able to enjoy a quick lunch at the Northern Rockies Cafe before heading home. We loaded up on sandwiches and coffee, but the highlight was a butter tart the size of my fist that weighed a metric ton.

The drive home was long and uneventful. The Liard Highway is a cold and lonely road at this time of year. As we drove the distant mountains crackled with a dark clarity under the weak light of the sunset, and both sides of the road the snowbanks were laced with animal tracks. We encountered no other traffic, save a lone bootlegger as we entered Nahanni.


The year is winding down. It is hard to believe that there are only a few days of class remaining, especially when there is still so much to do. The Christmas Concert looms ever closer, as does packing and final preparations for my upcoming trip to Yellowknife. It is certainly going to be a change heading to the 'big city', but I am looking forward to it very much!

Sunset

December has brought with it some astonishing sunsets. Consider tonight:

Is it a fair trade for the ever-dwindling hours of daylight? I think so.

Prairie Creek Mine

Today there was a presentation and "youth consultation" by the Canadian Zinc Corporation. At issue is their proposal to develop a silver/lead/zinc mine at Prairie Creek, about 60km upriver from Nahanni Butte and in the heart of the expanded Nahanni National Park Reserve.

They made a slick case, as you might expect, and appear to be going through all the right motions of consultation with the communities concerned. And who knows, if the project goes ahead they might indeed be able to avoid damaging the pristine environment.

But beyond the nasty thought of a mine operating in the heart of a UNESCO World Heritage site is the consequences the development will have on Nahanni Butte. Today they were preaching the usual mantra of jobs, jobs, jobs - but this is a mine that is expected to operate for a decade or so at most. Even if their rosy picture comes to pass, what will happen after production ends?

Many of their development ideas are questionable - they are talking of sticking cellphone towers on the local mountains out of the goodness of their hearts. So what if place of this size has no need for mobile phones - I'm sure the mining crews wouldn't mind it. Even more troubling is the suggestion of setting up a pitstop in town for the truckers working the winter road. I don't care how they dress it up, that will only result in an influx of drugs and alcohol. Not to mention a suspicious spike in the number of children enrolling in school a few years down the line. All you need to do is look at other small communities around the Territory to see what this sort of development will do to Nahanni Butte.

I have been reluctant to voice these thoughts too loudly around the locals because ultimately it is not my decision, and the last thing these people need is another meddling white man telling them what they should or should not do. It is especially tricky because the fact remains that aside from projects like Prairie Creek, there are virtually no other alternatives on the horizon for local employment. But I must admit that I am somewhat reassured to see that there is a great deal of scepticism about the project within the community. I was gratified to see some of the people present at the meeting today ask tough questions.

The whole episode has highlighted a difficult question for me: I want to be involved in this community, but to what extent do I have a 'right' to offer my opinion on local issues? I am working hard to be accepted here, but I still feel I have a way to go before I will have paid my dues.

Snowshoeing

This weekend I snowshoed deeper into the hills than ever before. On Sunday I left before dawn and didn't return until well after dark - which is a bit of a subjective idea at this time of year, with the sun barely clearing the horizon for more than four or five hours a day. True daylight is briefer still, with the remainder being a sort of murky twilight.

It was cold in the forest, colder than I have ever experienced. I made my way through ghostly birch trees heavy with frost, and groves of stunted black spruce in shadowed gullies.

There is a patient menace to the air when the temperature drops this low. The cold surrounds you, follows your every movement. You inhale it, feeling its weight with every breath - and I have yet to experience the worst of winter. In living memory there have been days of -60C.

Incredible.

Aurora

The past few nights have been clear and bitterly cold. The sky has been on fire with the aurora, and I have been fortunate enough to witness some spectacular displays. I am told the best is yet to come.

The green is from drawn from the ionization of oxygen atoms about 100km up, while the higher-altitude oxygen gives off the reddish-brown tinges on the edge.