WARNING: The following post contains graphic images of animals getting it on.

You know that earth beneath your feet? Looks solid, doesn't it? Feels solid, too, doesn't it? Looks can be deceiving.

The ground around Fort Smith is made of karst - and karst is anything but solid. It hides caves and fissures and cracks and holes. In karst country, cracks and sinkholes can open up just about anywhere - even in the middle of a highway.

Cave?

Sinkhole.

Cracks.

Unexpected things may lurk in those caves and fissures and cracks and holes. In the cracks and holes and caves and fissures around Fort Smith, there lurks snakes! Hundreds of them!

If it weren't for the karst, Fort Smith would be too far north for the red-spotted garter snakes to survive. Luckily for the snakes, the cracks and holes and caves and fissures in the karst landscape of Wood Buffalo National Park are deep enough that they can spend the winter below the frost line.

A snake emerges from the the warmth and safety of a crack in the ground.

A local resident visits with a garter snake.

The snakes sniffs the situation.

The snake tries to slither free.

Isn't he cute?!!?

Robert tries smelling with his tongue, too.

When springtime comes and the sun gets warm enough for the cold-blooded critters, they become filled with, uh, the urge to congregate.

Some snakes begin to, uh, congregate.

The male garter snakes will typically, uh, congregate around a female.

There's a whole lot of, uh, congregating about to happen here.

And they'll keep on, uh, congregating until the female gets tired of all the, uh, congregating, and slithers off. Until then, she'll have no shortage of male attention.

A female snake is, uh, congregating with a dozen of her closest boyfriends.

Later, the baby snakes ask each other "Who's your daddy?" - but none of them really know.

Aw, look! Two of them are kissing!

When the snakes are finished the, uh, congregating season - when the sun is even warmer but before the leaves emerge - the snakes will bolt for far-off lakes and ponds and streams where they'll eat their ten to thirteen frogs (that's all they need to survive) before returning to the warmth and safety of the snake pits.

It has been a life-long dream of mine to visit a snake pit. I cannot express how very, very neat it was to see. If I lived in Fort Smith, I would be there every spring to witness the, uh, congregating snakes.

About Michael's Meanderings

Sometimes informative and often farcical, Michael's Meanderings is written by Michael Pealow of Whitehorse, Yukon, Canada.

"Meandering Michael" started blogging in April of 2005 to keep his Mum from phoning to ask if he was still alive.

Stemming from his compulsive need to explore, but also from a passion for Canada's north, Michael's Meanderings soon took shape as a travel diary. Since then, his travelogues have become a resource for people who want to learn more about living and traveling in northwestern Canada.

A husband and father of two young daughters, Michael also writes about his journey through family life. With family, as with exploring a new trail, you can never be sure where things will go.

In May of 2008, his daughter, Jade, started having unexplained seizures. Medications failed to address the problem. Before long, Jade was having hundreds of seizures every day. Michael and his wife, Fawn, were able to break the pattern by using the ketogenic diet - a high fat, adequate protein, and low carbohydrate diet that is known to have neuro-protective qualities. The situation has substantially improved, although Jade still has seizures. Michael's Meanderings documents their journey through childhood epilepsy, as well as their never-ending quest to achieve complete seizure-freedom for Jade.

More than just a piece of paper...

Some time ago, I made a promise: "If you finish college or university, I'll be there for your graduation."

It was several years ago when I made this promise to Robert, a young man from Fort Liard. It was because of this promise that I drove 1,200 miles (1939km) from Whitehorse, Yukon to Fort Smith, NWT. Robert recently completed Aurora College's two-year Recreation Leadership Program.

Robert's achievement is a tremendous one. Not only was his a challenging program (3/4 of the second-year students dropped-out), he was raised in a community where, in spite of the teachers' best efforts, attendance and graduation rates are abysmally low.

It's an issue in many small, northern communities. The students in a single grade can have a broad spectrum of literacy levels and learning abilities, making it difficult to teach at an appropriate level. Student attendance is sporadic and attitudes towards the school system (from both parents and students) differ markedly from what you would find in southern Canada - partly due to the still-persisting after-effects of the residential school system). Fewer than 25% of the community's adult population has completed high school, although this is largely owing to historical factors such as there not being a high school until quite recently.

It's just not easy to graduate from a school where the students (and sometimes their parents) don't take it seriously or can't see the relevance. It takes a special kind of dedication and persistence to graduate from high school in a small northern community. It takes an even greater level of dedication and persistence to abandon the comfort and security of that community and go to college or university.

That's what Robert did and, even though he dropped out of his program in his first year, he got right back up, dusted himself off, and finished the job.

His determination and persistence were rewarded last weekend. He graduated!

Waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Processional. Instead of "Trumpet Voluntary", Aurora College graduates enter the hall to live Dene drum music.

The ceremony begins.

The graduates.

This year, Fort Liard had not one, but two graduates (You can, literally, count the number of college or university graduates from the community of 600 on your fingers and toes). Although her challenges were different, Molly overcame all obstacles to achieve her long-standing dream of going back to school. She left work and uprooted her family to go to the college in Fort Smith. One day soon, she might be using that education as the community's administrator.

The final few feet before collecting that piece of paper that she worked so hard to get.

Molly

Robert

After the graduation, on my way back through Fort Liard, I noticed that more people were talking about going back to school and many had returned to the local adult learning centre to take upgrading for their high school equivalency. I think it's because of people like Robert and Molly who are demonstrating that it is possible. They are demonstrating that, not only is it possible, it's rewarding on many levels. They are proud!

Proud!

And I'm proud of them, too.

Congratulations, Robert and Molly! You are truly great role models.

Setting a good example for the next generation. (Look at that baby belt! What beautiful embroidery!)

This is where I live.

On the off chance that you're wondering why anybody would possibly want to live in the frozen Yukon, watch this this video from Air North, Yukon's Airline (and my favourite airline of them all).

It's cheaper and easier to get to the Yukon than you thought (unless you're coming from Nunavut and then it's just an expensive pain in the butt).

There's something happenin' here...

Last night, Jade had a temper tantrum - a real, honest-to-goodness temper tantrum. She's been upset before, but this was her first real, honest-to-goodness temper tantrum. Over the past almost-year, when we saw her get upset for no apparent reason, it was usually accompanied by seizures. We've never been entirely sure if the seizures caused the "upset-ness" or if the "upset-ness" triggered the seizures.

If she was having seizures last night though, I couldn't detect any of the usual signs (twitching eyebrows, staring, loss of tone, complete drops, body jerks, etc.)

We can't see most of her seizures, but we can tell she's still having them by a certain, almost unnoticeable, unsteadiness. For quite a while, now, she hasn't been able to stand in one spot without wobbling somewhere else to keep her balance. To most, it would look like three-year-old fidgetiness. Standing on one foot for more than three (very fast) seconds was an accomplishment to be celebrated. Bending down and picking something up required the greatest of care on her part - she'd often stumble backward or sideways when she stood up. The seizures were throwing her off balance.

This morning, however, one-handed and one-footed, she reached for a cup like she was doing some sort of yoga move. She was so steady on her feet, you'd think she could have done it standing on a tightrope line, blindfolded, with someone standing on her shoulders with no difficulty.

There's something happening here and, whatever it is, I like it.

There are words and then there are words with meaning.

I wrote a play.

I'd never written a play but, for some reason, had often thought that I'd like to try it. I guess there are a lot of people out there who want to, one day, write a novel, so why not a play? If not for Nakai Theatre's 24-Hour Playwriting Competition, I would still be in that position.

The competition gives existing and wannabe playwrights a chance to churn out a play within 24 hours. Each playwright or playwriting team is given a hotel room where they work on their masterpiece. There are the occasional optional breaks (I tried yoga and I liked it!) but the rest of the time it's write, write, write! At the end of the 24 hours, all of the playwrights hand in their play to be judged. There are prizes for the best plays, but I have no idea what the prizes are. There are even prizes for the best use of an optional line and, this year, the best appearance by a bear in a play. I included both.

I'm under no illusions; I don't think I'm going to win anything, and I'm OK with that. There were experienced playwrights there who probably wrote thought-provoking social commentary with engaging characters and phenomenal plot twists or something like that. I really didn't know what I was doing. The last time I even read a play was in high school and that was Shakespeare. It doesn't matter because now I can say that I've written a play! One more thing on my life's "To Do" list that I can proudly check off!

The whole thing doesn't really end with the handing-in of the play, though. On May 9^th, there is a Cabaret where each of the playwrights picks five minutes of material from their play and has someone act it out - so, not only do we get to try our hands at playwriting, we get to be directors, too! 

Now I just need to cast the part of a skinny, geeky, teenaged boy, his best friend, and a cop...

Although I smithed many words over the weekend, the absolute best - the ones that had the most impact on me - were "Don't want it the bear!" Those words had nothing to do with my play; they were spoken (whined, really) by Jade - her first-ever five word sentence!!! We're really seeing her language process again.  What's more, in spite of her cold and her gushing nose, we haven't seen any seizures in the past two days. While we have no doubt there are still sub-clinical seizures happening, this is a very, very good sign. Woohoo!!!

Just when you thought it couldn't possibly get any better...

Look out kids! It's springtime again and that means it's time for Mushy Poo^TM!!!

Just when you thought it couldn't possibly get any better than Mushy Poo^TM, the promoters of Mushy Poo^TM and the Pile O'Cones have done it again!  We're pleased to present to you a revolutionary new line of Mushy Poo^TM - Mushy Poo Lite^TM!

New Mushy Poo Lite^TM is just like regular Mushy Poo^TM, except that it's lighter and ten times easier to transport!

As part of our patented process, we painstakingly harvest every bit of Mushy Poo^TM from our snowfields and then place them in a special drying pile.  Using the phenomenal power of the Yukon spring sun, we employ a special technique called "dehydration" to remove a select amount of the dihydrogen oxide from each piece of Mushy Poo^TM until it becomes Mushy Poo Lite^TM!

You'll be amazed at how much easier it is to collect and take home your very own bag of Mushy Poo Lite^TM.  Then, when you want the joy that only Mushy Poo^TM can bring, just add water to your Mushy Poo Lite^TM.  Watch as the Mushy Poo Lite^TM absorbs the water and becomes the original Mushy Poo^TM you know and love.  

Then, let the fun begin!

Mushy Poo Lite^TM is easier to collect, easier to transport, and easier to store!  How could it get any better?  Well, we'll tell you!

Because of it's unique composition, Mushy Poo Lite^TM can be thrown!  You can't do that with original Mushy Poo^TM! Imagine the look on your friends' faces when you toss them a Mushy Poo Lite^TM!  They'll be talking about it for years to come!

Mushy Poo Lite^TM is now available in three convenient textures: hard, soft, and crumbly.  What's more, we have a wide array of sizes to suit every taste.

"But, wait!" you ask, "How much does new and improved Mushy Poo Lite^TM cost?"  

As part of our introductory offer, we're offering this year's batch of Mushy Poo Lite^TM for FREE!  That's right - FREE!!!

You'll have to act fast if you want a bag Mushy Poo Lite^TM for your very own, though, as supplies are limited.  If we've run out of Mushy Poo Lite^TM, ask us about our inventory of original Mushy Poo^TM.

Contact Michael's Meanderings to place your order today!!!

Candidate for the Darwin Awards...

The other day, I saw a young lady driving her white Yaris up Two-Mile Hill during Whitehorse's rush minute while she was texting on her phone. From the bottom right to the top of the hill, she was texting. I never once saw her look above her steering wheel.

When I commuted in Ottawa, I saw some people doing some dumb things in rush-hour traffic: reading books, applying make-up, shaving, etc., but to their credit, the traffic was never traveling above 10 km/h. Heck, I even wrote a blog entry on my laptop in the vehicle line at a Canada/US border crossing once. What makes this different is that the young lady was doing it at about 80 km/h on a winding road with intersections known for their high accident rates. Just how urgently important could that message have been?! Phone them instead! It's safer! (I can't believe I just said that.)

Sometimes I wish I had the authority to take away drivers' licenses.

In the meantime, I'll keep my eyes on the Darwin Awards. I'm sure she'll turn up there eventually.

Perfect conditions...

We're in peak kicksledding season right now. The sled glides over the snow like greased lightning! The snow is perfectly packed- not too hard on the dog's legs - and the the perfect consistency - it hasn't yet developed those sharp, hard, icy shards that cut the dogs' feet.

The other evening, I went out to towards Miles Canyon with the dogs and we kicksledded along the old White Pass & Yukon Route tracks until we got close to McRae. Then, we rode down the long trail to McRae Landing, where I'm told the American military used to do their laundry during the construction of the Alaska Highway.

Here are a few pictures from our run. They were taken between 21:00 and 21:45-ish.

A poplar tries to cut in on some telephone conversations. I love the glass insulators on these old lines. I wonder if they're still used for anything?

It was a little creepy passing under the tree...

One of the nicest and easiest-to-get-to views in Whitehorse (in my opinion), overlooking Miles Canyon and Schwatka Lake.

A closer look.

Near the entrance of Miles Canyon

Looking down the river from McRae Landing

Looking upriver at Mount Lorne from McRae Landing.

Either the work of a guy with bad penmanship or the signature of a very talented lady; either way, c'mon! Did you have to do it right in the middle of the trail?! Use a snow bank!

We've also been getting out on the Copper Trail and have been flying over the trails around my neighbourhood. I offer my sincerest apologies to the lady we almost ran over last night. My whoops of elation as we flew down the trail should have given her plenty of warning, but she couldn't see us coming around that blind corner and we almost took her and her dog out. No harm done, fortunately.

I'm not entirely sure if her "Woah!" was from the shock of the close call or from her being so impressed at our speed.

There'll be no kicksledding tonight, but I'm sure looking forward to the full day off tomorrow!

I have Respiratory Sinus Arrhythmia.

After Halia was born, I contacted my life insurance agent - like every responsible parent should after a major life change. We worked out how much additional coverage I wanted and which policy would was best.

Then, I was asked to go see a nurse for a medical.

The medical was painless, except for when she took a blood sample. I used to give blood regularly (and so should you if you're able) and it never hurt. When this nurse took blood, it hurt. She wiggled that needle deeper and deeper into my arm, trying to draw blood from a vein that was quite a lot closer to the surface than she was looking.

She also took my blood pressure and my pulse.

She said my blood pressure was low. She didn't say this like it was a good thing, but with her eyes furrowed, like it was something to be concerned about - like it was so low that a little jab in the arm with a needle might relieve enough pressure that I would have no blood pressure at all.

She took my pulse several times, with the same furrowed-eyes look on her face. I sat there, breathing calmly and deeply, while she counted beats and looked at her watch. I was having the same number of beats, but she said that my heartbeat kept speeding up and slowing down and that it was speeding up and slowing down a lot.

My heart has always done that, especially when I breathe deeply. I've got a lot of lung capacity. I used to be a distance runner and I play the tuba. Every time I breathe, my lungs are giving my heart a little hug, so it doesn't beat as fast. That's normal, right?

Right?

With that furrowy look upon her face, she scratched into the medical form, through all four colours of carbon paper: IRREGULAR HEARTBEAT.

Now my heart really was beating faster. My mind started to race. Was there something wrong with my heart? Could all of the sleepiness I've been feeling lately have something to do with a failing heart, and not the 03:00 wake-up calls by the kids as I had assumed? With all of the other garbage my family has had to go through this year, do we need to add a failing heart to that list?

I did some Internet research. There's a lot of stuff on the Internet about hearts.

Gulp.

I actually felt a sense of relief when the insurance company asked me to go have an ECG. If there's something wrong with my heart, I reasoned, it's better I know about it.

The ECG was a painless procedure.  All I had to do was lie down on a too-short examining table and relax.

After a few seconds, the technician declared, "Normal!" Actually, she said it indicated that I was "fit". It would appear that the slowing down and speeding up of my heart rate when I breathe is called Respiratory Sinus Arrhythmia, which sounds bad, but really means your heart speeds up when you breathe in and it slows down when you breathe out.  "In humans, the magnitude of the RSA increases with physical conditioning and self-induced, relaxed breathing.¹" In other words, if you're fit and relaxed, the change can be a big one.  "RSA becomes less prominent with age, diabetes and cardiovascular disease.²"

So, the ECG established that I have a very healthy heart.  Now what I want to know is, does this mean I get a discount on my life insurance policy?

¹Wikipedia.
²Ibid.

Pun War!

They can happen anywhere and any time. When circumstances bring two punsters together, a War of Puns is sure to arise.

Tonight, I was having a conversation with Clare from "The House and other Arctic musings", who commented on my "Michael changed a diaper of prodigious pooportions" facebook status update. One thing led to another, and the next thing you know, we were engaged in a poo-related pun war (fertile ground, as I'm sure you can imagine).

Here is my favourite moment (cleaned up, somewhat):

22:41 Clare:
I think you're wiping me in this pun battle.
But I'll push on.

22:42 Michael:
I've had a lot of time to work these things out. When it comes to poop puns, they just flow...
Don't worry. I'm sure you'll sphincter some more.

22:43 Clare:
No, I'm colon up blank.

I'd have to say that Clare won in the end.