Michael's Meanderings

Six.

2012-01-30T09:52:00.000-08:00

Six years ago, today, my first child was born and my life was changed forever.

At the time, I was naive. I had no comprehension of how challenging it would be to be a father. I also had no comprehension of how rewarding it would be.

Over the past six years, I have seen my child go from a helpless baby to an adventurous toddler, to a helpless toddler, to a remarkably mature and caring kindergartener with a love for learning and a streak of silliness that I adore.She has come so far.

Happy Birthday, kiddo!

Our love is like a well-dried plum.

2012-01-23T12:25:00.002-08:00

A friend recently asked on Facebook, "What do prunes have to do with Valentine's Day?"

Aside from the obvious "prunes are good for the heart"? It's the perfect set-up for a punchline, but I decided to write a poem instead. It has been a while since I wrote a poem and I was inspired. So here it is:

Our love is like a well-dried plum
It blossomed on a summer's night
In the warmth of June
And like a plum with giant heart
Grew 'neath an August moon
And now, with age, it stands preserved
So with these words I croon
Our love will stand the test of time
Just like a well-dried prune

Street Jigging

2012-01-22T10:06:00.003-08:00

Oh, yeah! With actual music? Now THAT'S more like it! It's gonna be a street dance revolution!!!

Watching him blow his own horn.

2012-01-20T13:43:00.000-08:00

A couple of years ago, I had the pleasure of attending a brass workshop taught by Guy Few. He was great, teaching us all sorts of neat and useful things.

Unfortunately, I never got to see him in concert.

Now, thanks to a contest held by Aasman, I get to take Fawn on a date and see him in concert with bassoonist Nadina Mackie Jackson.

YAY!

Holiday Recap: Through the videographic eyes of my youngest niece

2012-01-15T23:29:00.001-08:00

"No, Bull!" A tale of the one that got away.

2012-01-01T20:15:00.002-08:00

Once upon a time, as long as 700,000 years ago, the Yukon was inhabited by turrrrrrrible beasts with hunched backs and long, pointed horns. They were the steppe bison, forefathers of our modern day wood bison. By 1900, however, the wood bison were nearly hunted to extinction. And there were none left in the Yukon.

With as few as 200-300 wood bison left, people finally recognized the need for conservation efforts and, in 1922, Wood Buffalo National Park was created. Things did not go well for the early conservation program, which was plagued by livestock disease and genetic contamination with plains bison. Fortunately, a healthy, un-contaminated was found in a remote area of the park and efforts were made to establish geographically separated herds of wood bison throughout different parts of Canada.

In 1980, Yukon decided to participate in the initiative and, between 1988 and 1922, 172 bison were set free. With only wolves as natural predators and restricted hunting by humans, the herd has grown at an estimated rate of up to 20% per year. (Information obtained from this source.)

The initiative has been so successful that the Department of the Environment realized that some form of population control would be required to keep the herds healthy. The department increased the number of bison tags available to Yukon hunters, eventually making tags available to anyone eligible from the Yukon with an interest in hunting a bison. They've even gone so far as to encourage hunters to hunt for female bison.

I decided it was time to try bison hunting.

Hunting was one of those things that, as a kid, I didn't support. Why kill something just for the "sport" of killing it? To my five-year-old self, that was just wrong. I still agree with my five-year-old-self in that respect, but I've also learned that the majority of hunters (the vast majority of those in the North, at least) are not hunting for trophies - they're hunting to feed themselves and their families. Done properly, hunting is a valuable part of ecosystem management. It can keep animal populations healthy. Also, I'm an omnivore. I enjoy eating meat and have no plans to give it up. Instead of being isolated from what it takes to provide that meat - not knowing what others are doing to the animals that provide my meat and having me and my family exposed to everything that gets into that animal - I decided it's time I picked up a new skill and begin supplying my family with a supply of healthy, sustainably-harvested meat from an animal that has lived a challenging, yet natural, life.

With the necessary tools and various skills at my disposal, my brother-in-law Mike and I set out to look for sign of a herd.

It was snowing pretty hard, which meant that we couldn't see very far, but at least we had the benefit of knowing that any tracks we found would be fresh. We scouted the trail, found the tracks of a lone bull bison, and continued on, looking for a herd with cows.

Bison live in two types of herds. The main type is a harem, where one bull is surrounded by a group of cows. Sometimes there will be some young bulls in the herd - until they're forced out on their own. Sometimes, the young bulls will group together to form a smaller herd. It's not an easy life for lone bison.

After scouting the area some more, we decided to return to the lone bull's tracks. They were quickly disappearing under the falling snow.

The bison walked in loop-de-loops, wandering in a seemingly nonsensical manner. We found where it had bedded down, got up, bedded down again, got up, and bedded down again. Loop-de-loop after loop-de-loop, stoping nowhere to feed or go to the bathroom. Eventually, it wandered down into a steep valley where there was no chance of retrieving the meat even if we managed to find it. The tracks had been fresh. On the way back to our snow machine, we saw that our snowshoe tracks had mostly disappeared in some spots.

The next day dawned clear and mostly-sunny and we decided to return to the area to look for fresh sign. We cut across some sign that looked like it might be two bison. We knew the tracks were fresh and had to have been made between late evening the night before and early morning, but it was hard to read much more that that; the wind was blowing strongly and the tracks were drifted over with snow.

I strapped on my snowshoes and followed the trail. They were making for high country where the sun was shining on the hillside.

I followed the tracks for about a kilometre before I found some tracks that hadn't been disturbed by the drifting snow. It was a cow and a calf moose; not what we were looking for.

On we went.

Following some other snow machine tracks, we came across a site where the bison had recently bedded down. There were other hunters in the area but none of them had followed the tracks. They were all bombing around on their snow machines. After a quick bite to eat, we strapped on our snowshoes and started tracking.

It took a little while to separate the fresh tracks from the fresher tracks, but we did it. The herd zig-zagged their way through the trees. I had no idea how far away they were until I found some fresh droppings. And then some more. And then some that was steaming fresh. And some urine. Bison, when they feel threatened, empty themselves out. I was close, but they were on guard.

And then I saw some movement. Less than fifty feet in front of me, a cow bison trotted across my path, stopping just off to my right. There was just one little problem. I had a clean shot, but it was only a clean shot of the back half of the cow. Small spruce trees obscured the front half of the cow. I needed a clear shot of the vital organs, so I planned to loop around in front of the cow and cut her off.

By the time I got there, she was already gone. Silently, she had trotted off through the trees. I followed her trail around as she tried to evade me through thick brush. She didn't make a sound. Eventually her trail looped back around, crossing our original trail. She had rejoined the herd.

I continued to track her. The scat was, literally, steaming fresh.

The trail came to a small lake and crossed it. I looked up in the sky. The sun was low. Reluctantly, because I knew I was close, it was time to end the hunt for the day.

Poor Mike, who was snowshoeing about ten minutes behind me (intentionally, to make sure we didn't make too much noise) never even got to see one of the bison.

The next day, we came back for a longer stay. Our plan was to spend a few nights in the area. That would give us more time for tracking, and more time if we actually got something. This time, my brother-and-law and I were joined by Christian.

Christian and a friend of his( who joined us for the day) went off in one direction and I resumed tracking the herd from the last known point.

Down a hill and across a chain of lakes, up a long, steep hill, and over the other side put us right back into prime bison country. They guys knew where they were going. Judging by the tracks, there appeared to be about six of them. We followed the tracks to a clearing where they had spent some time bedded down. It was always with relief that I saw the bedding sites; they meant that I would have less ground to cover to catch up to the herd.

Further down the valley, the tracks led to a larger lake. I slowly scoped out the lake, but didn't see any bison. I did see a large coyote, though.

The coyote stared at me and I stared at it. We were both curious about each other and lingered for a long time, sometimes pretending to ignore each other. And then the coyote took a dump and trotted along the ridge bordering the lake's north shore.

I continued tracking the herd around the lake's shoreline. I knew we were getting closer, but still had no idea how far away the herd might be. We came to a large, grassy meadow and I started getting excited. It was snowing gently out, but the tracks were fresh and it was apparent that the herd had spent a considerable amount of time grazing.

I picked up my pace and followed the trail up a slope and along the valley. Once again, I was impressed by how well these bison knew the area. They knew all the best routes.

Down into the valley again, I walked through a fairly open area. I slowed down to check out the area a little more slowly. Then I looked up and there she was.

Less than seventy-five feet away from me was a cow bison. She saw me and paid little attention.

Quickly, I shed the glove that was covering the barrel of my gun, took the protective covers off my scope, and loaded a bullet into the chamber. It only took a few seconds.

I took a step forward to rest the barrel of my gun on an old tree to ensure that I'd have the cleanest shot possible. And then a bull stepped forward, saw me, went "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!", spun around, and led the herd off into the trees at high speed. The bull had a large, yellow radio collar around its neck, so it has obviously had previous negative encounters with animals of the human persuasion.

I thought I knew which way they'd go, so I attempted to cut them off but, just like the cow the day before, they beat me to it. I charged ahead, hoping to gain on them in my snowshoes. For another forty minutes I charged on as they made for the high ground. Eventually, I stopped and checked the time. It was time to head back. Darkness would be arriving soon and we still had to make camp.

Skunked again!

And poor, poor Mike was so disappointed that he didn't get to see the bison.

"Aww! I missed them again?!"

Back we went to make camp.

It was Mike's first time winter camping. I explained that the act of camping in the winter is seldom enjoyable while you're doing it - it's when you get home that you appreciate how great winter camping is, because it makes you appreciate what you've got at home.

Oh, and I hate winter camping in a tent. I'd rather sleep in the open air or a snow hut where the moisture doesn't accumulate and it's easier to stay warm. If you want to build your own snow hut, you can learn how to do it here.

Christian was up early the next day. He was going to take a turn picking up the bison trail where I had left it. Mike and I had a new mission. If we got a bison, we'd need a way to get the meat out - and we would do that with the snow machine and skimmer (toboggan), but the trail that we packed the day before went over a hill that was too steep for a snow machine. Mike and I set out to find a more accessible route into the area.

We followed the chain of lakes in both directions, being careful to avoid the dangerous inflow and outflow areas where open water hid treacherously under the ice.

We made our way into prime bison habitat, a large open meadow full of grasses. Judging by the old, frozen bison droppings, they like to spend a lot of time there - but that's not where they were that day.

The openness of the area gave us incredible panoramic views of the mountains. There is some incredible alpine walking up there.

There was a crook in the meadow where it looked like we might be able to get a snow machine around the hill to the lake where I last saw the bison. Sure enough, there were old, drifted-over bison tracks. We followed the tracks up to and along a moraine that led right to the lake where I saw them last.

Those bison, I tell ya, they know that area like the back of their hoof.

We caught up to Christian, but he hadn't had any luck. The short winter days really didn't give us a lot of time for tracking before we had to make our way back to camp.

Once again, we cooked supper over the fire in the dark. The sky was clear and Christian and I both predicted that cold was coming. We huddled around the fire before turning in for an early night.

We were right about the temperature dropping.

It was a cold night in the tent (and did I mention how much I dislike sleeping in a tent in the winter?), but we didn't get up until around 10:00 the next morning.

It was cold enough that our fingers were sticking to anything made of metal. A cheap, little thermometer that I keep on my day pack indicated that it was somewhere below -25^oC. How much further below -25^oC we don't know. The thermometer doesn't measure lower than that.

We decided that our hunt had come to an end. Even if we managed to get a bison, it would be unpleasantly cold to field dress and we were running out of time before the end of the bison hunting season. We packed camp, got our snow machines running, and headed for the truck and trailer.

I was pleasantly surprised when the truck started running, though it groaned in protest.

At home, we unpacked our gear and the leftover food supplies. I've never seen olive oil "freeze" before.
Apparently, it happens around -38^oC.

So we didn't get a bison. I did not provide for my family like I'd hoped. Instead of bringing home thousands of dollars worth of meat, I spent a bunch of money on fuel and a snow machine rental.

But that's OK.

I learned a lot, I think Mike enjoyed himself, and I'm that much closer to success for the next time.

No bull.

The Role and Function of a Nutcracker

2012-01-01T13:21:00.002-08:00

The kids have been Nutcracker crazy this year, but I think the role and function of the nutcracker is somewhat lost on Halia. What does our three-year-old girl think a nutcracker does?

"A nutcracker kicks nuts. And then eats them."

Skating on Windy Arm

2012-01-01T13:18:00.001-08:00

Maybe you've already seen some of the videos from people's skating adventures on Tagish Lake's Windy Arm. I did, and it inspired me to go skating there, too.

My sister- and brother-in-law were visiting for the holidays and also wanted to get a taste of Yukon adventure.

Windy Arm comes by its name honestly. Even my heavy moosehide and beaver mitts would have blown away if I hadn't secured them.

I think the only place that wasn't buffeted by the wind was under the lake ice, along the shore.

We saw some friends there who were just wrapping up their visit. One of them loaned me his hockey stick, but I'm really not a righty. Besides, the puck would have just blown down the lake, giving one team all of the advantage.

I decided that I wanted to skate all the way across the lake and back. Even though it snowed the night before, the ice was beautiful both for skating and to look at. Some people have said they've seen swimming fish through the ice.

I made it to the other side of the lake and took some shelter from the wind in a little bay.

My brain is still having a hard time figuring out how bubbles could get captured in the ice on their rise to the surface.

Of course, for the skate back, I just had to capture it all on video for posterity.

Warning: If you get queasy by fast moving video footage, you might want to skip this one. But you'll want to watch the first 40 seconds just to see how fast the wind was, at least.

After our skate, since we were close anyway, we decided to take a quick drive over the pass and into Skagway. Have I mentioned before how much more I enjoy visit Skagway when the cruise ships aren't there?

Here are a couple of outhouses on the South Klondike Highway near the summit. I think an appropriate caption for this picture would be "Out of Order".

I really hope the ice on Windy Arm (and others in the chain of Yukon's Southern Lakes) freezes next year like it did this year! And if it does, I may have to see what I can do about making an ice boat!

What did I get for for Christmas?

2012-01-01T09:51:00.001-08:00

Why, it's a major award!

Christmas with the Kids

2011-12-25T00:41:00.001-08:00

It happens every year, but it's different with kids. We do things we might not otherwise do, like going to see "The Nutcracker".

I took Jade last year and we both really enjoyed it. This year, Fawn and Halia came along. We were worried that sitting still through the performance would be too difficult for an active three-year-old girl, but we were wrong. She watched with rapt attention.

They both liked it so much that they wanted to watch the VHS version as soon as we got home. It helps that they do an excellent job of it here in Whitehorse.

We also went to a Christmas concert at a local school, where the Grade 1s were playing Fawn's Christmas song, "Angels Are Smiling". It was soooooooooooooooooo cute seeing them sing the song (with cue cards to help them along) and they did an excellent job. Jade and Halia enjoyed the performance, too.

Do they look really grown up in that previous picture? I thought so, too, so naturally I put them to work.

Just kidding. They're both playing on their favourite (shhhhh-they're-learning-how-to-read-but-don't-tell-them) website, Starfall.com. And just to prove that it's not all work, here are some pictures from us at play.

Aww, what a cute kitty!

Bad kitty! Get out of that banjo case! (Yes, just in case you were wondering, our cat, Crook, is still alive.)

Our friend, Nita, dropped by with some presents for the girls. She made one gorgeous quilt for Jade and another gorgeous quilt for Halia. They love them. Thanks, Nita!!!

The same night that Nita dropped by with the quilts, we took the girls out for a little bit of Christmas carolling with about 30-40 or our neighbours. It has become a bit of an annual tradition here, but the first year that we were able to participate.

Right now, the girls are tucked snugly in their beds. I'm sure it'll be happy mayhem in a half-dozen precious hours.

I hope that your Christmas is filled with happy mayhem, too. Merry Christmas!

Some things don't need translation.

2011-12-20T22:38:00.001-08:00

This is the last of the posts from my trip to Moscow and Siberia. Although there are many, many differences between where I live and where I visited Russia, it's nice to know that there are many, many things we have in common.

There was a television at the Krasnoyarsk airport. It was playing a program that was so very familiar to me that translation was not required. It was playing a program that reminded me that people are basically the same everywhere.

Look familiar?

What about now?

You must recognize it by now!

The resemblance is uncanny. The characters are nearly identical, with the same great comic timing. And even though they're speaking in Russian, their voices sound the same. Want to see them in action?

Crazy.

In Russian, the translation of the show's title is "Happy Together". Do you know what it is in English?

Just in case you were wondering...

2011-12-20T22:10:00.001-08:00

Question: What is it like to eat at a Mexican restaurant in Russia?

Answer: Even better than eating at a Mexican restaurant in Mexico.

The Krasnoyarsk Dam

2011-12-20T22:06:00.002-08:00

Once the fifth largest hydro-electric dam in the world (now the 7th), the Krasnoyarsk dam was an impressive feat of engineering. It supplies 6,000 MW of power. In comparison, the Yukon has a teeeeeeny tiny generation capacity of about 139 MW.

Construction of the Krasnoyarsk dam started in 1956 and ended in 1972. I'm not sure when this mosaic tile tribute to Lenin was built, but it's the first thing you see when entering the facility (other than the security gate and the dam itself which, I guess, doesn't make it the first thing, but one of the first things).

When the spillway is wide open, I'm told that water shoots hundreds of feet into the air.

For an industrial facility, there are some exceptional pieces of art. This piece lines the wall of the hallway entrance.

This model of the area below the dam is tucked in the main turbine room.

The turbines are replaced from time-to-time. Everything that goes into the dam is made in Russia. This giant pit houses just one of the (I think eight) turbines. It was such a strange feeling in the turbine house; I could feel some very low sound waves. Not everyone on the tour was able to feel them, but several of us could.

In the picture below, the dam is on the right. The concrete "pillars" are actually the penstocks for the dam. The penstocks are tubes of decreasing diameter that carry the water to the turbines. The decreasing diameter pressurizes the water. It's the highly-pressurized water that turns the turbines.

We got to go into the dam, under the penstocks. It was hard to believe that we were just feet away from the bottom of a giant lake. I asked if the dam is rated for earthquakes. I was told that the dam was engineered to last 300 years and, based on the rating for which it's earthquake-rated, let's just say that it's where I'd like to be in the event of a major seismic event.

And this is the phone I would use to call for help, I think.

This funky piece of art is actually a map of how the system is/was supposed to look when it's compete.

I was glad we got to go up onto the dam. It gave me a much better feel for just how massive it is.

Unfortunately, we ran out of time and didn't get to see the inclined rail that's used to lift boats from the river to the lake (and back). We ran out of time because we had to get back to the airport.

We took one more quick trip back through town and before you could say "do svidaniya" we were on a flight for Moscow.

Krasnoyarsk Road Trip!

2011-12-19T16:24:00.002-08:00

We got to go on a tour of the 7th largest (formerly 5th largest) hydro-electric dam in the world! The dam is featured on the 10 Rouble note. This post isn't about the dam, though. It's about the drive there.

View Larger Map

We crossed from the north side of the Yenisei River (the largest river system that drains into the Arctic Ocean) to the south side of the river over the Soviet People's Bridge. I believe that, locally, they're referred to as the West and East Side.

The city was once divided into two parts. During times of conflict, the interior of Russia was seen as a safer place to move manufacturing. The south (east) side of the river was once a manufacturing centre. It is now becoming more of a residential area.

Look! The Trans-Siberian Railroad!

There were lots of the great old wooden houses. I don't know if they're cold and uncomfortable or warm and cozy, but there certainly are a lot of them!

They have a permanent carnival! It's closed for the season, but still!

We stopped at a lookout over the Yenisei River. There was a wooden shack where you could buy boxes and other gifts made out of birch bark.

A sturgeon!

People had tied ribbons all around around the lookout. If you look closely at the picture above, you'll see ribbons tied there, too. According to our guide, this is done by the indigenous peoples at numerous significant sites as an offering of thanks. I thought this was super-cool, because I know this was once practiced by indigenous peoples in Canada. It is well-documented and stories are told of how the Dene tied ribbons and left offerings at significant sites like Louise Falls and Alexandra Falls on the Hay River in the NWT. Some people still do this.

It was especially interesting to me because I had just watched a fascinating presentation by Colleen Henry of the Arctic Athabaskan Council about the language link between the Na-Dene languages of North America and the Kets language, which was once though to have no language relatives (at least in Asia). They have demonstrated the connection with 120 similar words and a similar (and complex) language structure. It is though that the languages became isolated from each other approximately 2,500 years ago. You can read more about it here.

We continued to make our way upstream, past little villages and summer home communities, past planned villages comprised of apartment buildings, and by decaying industrial buildings.

And then we saw the dam. Pictures for that will follow in the next entry.

Picky Pigeons

2011-12-19T12:42:00.001-08:00

You know you've got it good when...

Krasnoyarsk by Day

2011-12-19T12:40:00.001-08:00

Krasnoyarsk has a wide range of architectural styles.

And their KFCs don't look anything like ours.

My favourite buildings were the centuries-old wooden structures.

And, yes, there were lots of little Ladas all over the place.

Here they're setting up a giant tree.

And Lenin's shadow gives a "thumbs up" on a beautiful, sunny day.

Bobrovy Log

2011-12-19T12:29:00.002-08:00

As part of the conference in Krasnoyarsk, Siberia, we were taken for dinner at Bobrovy Log, a local ski resort. I'm told that Babrovy Log translates to "Beaver Lodge".

Our trip started with the requisite "piling into vans" that had become a regular and enjoyable part of the conference.
Because there were highly-placed government representatives amongst us, we had a police escort.

"Wow, that's neat," I thought, "Cars are moving out of the way for us! This is fun!"

And then, as we were crossing the bridge over the Yenesei River, the cars didn't have a lot of room to pull over - so the police escort sped into the lane reserved for oncoming traffic!

"Woohoo!" I thought, "This is a WHOLE LOT of fun!"

As we pulled up to the ski resort, I looked at it and said, "Excellent!" One of the Russian-speaking Canadian representatives exclaimed "You're getting quite good at reading cyrillic!"

"Huh?" I asked.

It turns out that the van stopped in front of an establishment that operates under the name "Excellent". (On the grey banner over the doors in the picture below.)

Dinner was served in a night club-type room. The atmosphere was very neat.

We were entertained by singing and dancing, all of it quite excellent. The performers were very, very skilled.

And I fell in love with a new favourite instrument. Why would anyone buy a bass guitar when you could get one of those!?

I would totally get one if I thought it could survive the flights halfway around the world - and if I had a place to keep it.

Russian Hour 2

2011-12-18T23:25:00.002-08:00

I can't help but wonder what Chris Tucker sounds like when he speaks Russian.

Siberian Federal University

2011-12-18T22:18:00.000-08:00

Siberian Federal University has 40,000 students! Here are a few shots from a small part of the campus.

The conference that I was attending (and spoke at) was held in the new library building. It's a gorgeous building.

We also had our delicious multi-course lunches there. The soups were exceptionally delicious.

My favourite display at the library was of the indigenous art. The bone/antler carvings in the bottom left of the next picture are for decorating reindeer. The carvings in the bottom right are for measuring and making fish nets.

The carving off to the left in the following picture is made from mammoth ivory. The artwork was exceptional.

Given that I was at a conference where not everyone spoke english and not everyone spoke russian (like me), translators were required. I'm not sure why anyone would want to microwave a translation receiving device, but you should remove that orange tag before you do!

If you're ever thinking about studying abroad, check out Siberian Federal University - they've got it all!

The Hotel Oktyabrskaya

2011-12-18T20:59:00.000-08:00

While in Krasnoyarsk, we stayed at the Hotel Oktyabrskaya.

The rooms are nice once you get past the smell of cigarette smoke. And if you need a good sleep, hang the appropriate sign on your door and you "WONT'T" be disturbed.

Krasnoyarsk at Night

2011-12-18T20:47:00.000-08:00

What do you think of when you hear the name "Siberia"?

I wasn't sure what to expect, but I certainly didn't expect Krasnoyarsk. With just under a million people, Krasnoyarsk is the second or third largest city in Siberia. To me, those numbers are astonishing because I live the Whitehorse, capital city of the Yukon, and our population is somewhere around 35,000 people. Nowhere near 1,000,000.

Krasnoyarsk was built along the banks of the ginormous Yenisei River. My first night there, I took a little walk onto a huge pedestrian bridge that crosses the river. I wanted to get a better feel for the size of the city. It's a big city.

I saw Santa while I was there, but he wasn't riding with his reindeer. Instead, he cruised around in the passenger seat of an open-top convertible with a Christmas tree in the back.

One night in Krasnoyarsk, we were treated to a performance of the action play "Yakuza Dogs".

The theatre was packed with teenagers. We were ushered into a special room where we sipped on tea and the assistant director told us about the play.

I don't know what it was about the tea in Russia, but I loved it. Such good tea.

The theatre we beautiful.

"Yakuza Dogs" (which is done in Russian, of course) is about a stray dog who refuses to join either of the local packs. The lead character concocts a scheme to get rid of the other packs and ends up with a pack of his very own. The whole dog/pack thing is an analogy for gangs. The play does an exceptional job of pointing out the similarities between pack dog behaviour and human behaviour.

The set was done very well, with gutted cars and tires evoking a back-alley in a run-down part of town and simultaneously being used as effective props in the action scenes.

And then there are the restaurants.

The food at all the restaurants was soooo good! I noticed that, unlike Canada and the US, the starchy portion of every meal was quite small; much more emphasis was placed on the feature, as opposed to the side dish. It was quite nice.

One night, we went out to a restaurant called The Kabinet.

The Kabinet was downstairs, under the foundation of a building. It had a very warm feel.

An excellent guitarist added to the ambiance.

Though I did wonder about the electrical system...

...And the guy who got caught teleporting through the wall.

Policy of Collaboration Letter to the Prime Minister and AANDC Minister

2011-12-10T20:24:00.001-08:00

As a Canadian, I've had enough. It's time for a Policy of Collaboration between the Government of Canada and First Nations.

Below is a template letter that you're welcome to use to encourage the Government of Canada to try a new approach. You can find the e-mail address for the Prime Minister here and the e-mail address for Minister Duncan here. While you're at it, let your MP know what you think, too.

Mr. Prime Minister/Minister Duncan,

When it comes to First Nations, the Assimilation Policy has failed, creating more problems than it was intended to fix. This policy and others (including the current approach toward Attawapiskat), while well intentioned, are done without full input and consent from the affected First Nations. If someone tried to run my life from afar it would be a disaster, too.

I encourage my government - the Government of Canada - to adopt a new policy regarding First Nations.

A "Policy of Collaboration".

A Policy of Collaboration would mean that the Government of Canada and First Nations would listen to each other, learn from each other, and develop the structures that will encourage ongoing collaboration. This is the kind of visionary leadership that we, as Canadians, are looking for. We cannot continue to repeat the same mistakes that we have made for hundreds of years.

When First Nations succeed, we all benefit. They can't do it alone and neither can the Government of Canada.

If you would like more ideas regarding a "Policy of Collaboration", please do not hesitate to contact me.

Sincerely,

***Insert Name Here***

If you've come up with your own letter to the Prime Minister or Minister Duncan, I encourage you to post a link to it in the comments section above.

Attawapiskat: A Time to Redefine

2011-12-08T10:20:00.001-08:00

If you haven't figured it out yet, Attawapiskat will become a defining moment in Canadian history. It will be a defining moment because it is a reflection of who Canada is; where we've come from and, most importantly, who we'll choose to be.

There are a lot of misconceptions out there, so let's take a quick look at the history of Canada's relationship with our aboriginal peoples so we can have a better understanding of how we got to the situation we find ourselves in today.

A Brief History
When Europeans got to North America there were already people living here. Let's call them the First Nations. The Europeans recognized them as nations and, in their jockeying for control over the Americas, began forming alliances and waging wars. These were nation-to-nation alliances and nation-to-nation conflicts.

After the French and Indian War/Seven Years War, King George III wanted to incorporate Great Britain's newly-acquired "French" territory into its empire and to stabilize relations with the First Nations through the regulation of trade, settlement, and land purchase. To do so, he issued the Royal Proclamation of 1763 which essentially said, among other things, that the First Nations had title to their land and that nation-to-nation treaties would be required - but that only the Crown could purchase lands from the First Nations. Nobody else was allowed to purchase First Nations lands.

What ensued were a series of efforts where the Crown's primary goal was to secure title over the land. Very little has changed on that front. It's still the Crown's primary goal in its relationship with First Nations.

Several different methods were tried to secure title. First up was extermination through starvation, smallpox-laced blankets, and murder. Extermination proved unpopular and warfare was too expensive (as the Americans were finding out). Treaties were seen as the way to go.

The problem with the treaties, though, was and is in their interpretation. From the Crown's perspective, treaties were about securing title to the land. From the First Nations' perspectives (and they are various depending on the treaties in question), they were about ensuring protection for their people against waves of immigration, getting access to training and resources to transition to new economies, and/or agreements to co-exist peacefully, among other things. In some cases, First Nations agreed to give up land title in exchange for this assistance and, in some cases, First Nations did not. (Not all First Nations in Canada have treaties, by the way.)

Good Intentions

The treaty system amounted to the Government of Canada saying "give us your land - the very land that you use to sustain yourselves and your families - and we'll take care of you. Trust us."

Obviously, it hasn't worked. Generally, people want to help themselves, but the system was designed to promote dependency through restrictive laws, under-resourcing, and expectations that the federal government will - one-day - fully live up to its treaty obligations. The truth is, though, why would they? The federal government got what they wanted and living up to the treaty obligations is expensive - and taxpayers don't like things that are expensive for which they perceive little benefit.

With this in mind, the next move was to get First Nations to go away because, without First Nations, there's no need to fulfil those expensive, ongoing, treaty obligations. So, the federal government came up with a strategy called "Assimilation".

“I want to get rid of the Indian problem. I do not think as a matter of fact, that the country ought to continuously protect a class of people who are able to stand alone… Our objective is to continue until there is not a single Indian in Canada that has not been absorbed into the body politic and there is no Indian question, and no Indian Department, that is the whole object of this Bill.”
Dr. Duncan Campbell Scott, Deputy Superintendent, Department of Indian Affairs, 1920

Non-First Nations Canadians really believed that it was the best thing they could do for First Nations people; assimilation was well-intentioned. Of course, we all know what the road to hell is paved with. Assimilation was "encouraged" by doing everything possible to make it so hard to be a First Nation person that First Nation people would have no choice but to assimilate.

Assimilations efforts were extreme.

Children were forcibly taken from from their families, told their parents were "dirty" and that their language and culture was evil. This was the era of the Indian residential school. It was famously said that if you can't kill the Indian child, residential schools would "kill the Indian in the child".

Many children did die in residential schools, and we still don't know how many. Several mass graves have been documented. Others are unknown. It could be in the hundreds. It could be in the thousands. Countless children were abused, emotionally, physically, and sexually. The first residential schools opened in the 1840s as a collaboration between churches and the state. The last one closed in 1996. Children were raised without parents, as wards of the church and state. As you may imagine, the grieving over the residential school experience continues. The effects are multi-generational and may be felt for generations to come. There is no quick fix.

Again, residential schools were well-intentioned, but were forced upon First Nations without their input or consent.

Residential schools were just one aspect of the assimilation policy, though. The Indian Act legislation was designed with assimilation in mind. It dictates who can be a First Nations person and who cannot; who is "Status" and "Non-Status". It promoted political instability within the First Nation, outlawing traditional governance and cultural practices. The Government of Canada made it hard to be a Status Indian to force assimilation.

Not too long ago, leaving the reserve meant you lost your status. You had to get permission from the Indian Agent if you wanted to leave or run a business. If you got a job outside of the reserve, you lost your status. You had no right to use the court system (you couldn't sue) and you couldn't vote. First Nations people didn't get the right to vote until 1960. Essentially, First Nations were governed (and most of them still are) by a government that could not be held accountable except through public opinion.

If you were a First Nations person and wanted rights equal to those of Canadians, you had to give up your cultural identity. If you wanted to engage in the economy, you had to give up your cultural identity. Could you imagine being told that you had to convert to a new religion and turn your back on your family and your nation just to have the same rights as the people who lived just across the way? And even if you did, you'd still be discriminated against?

The Indian Act was well-intentioned, but was forced upon First Nations without their input or consent.

Non-First Nations people believe that First Nations people today have it good - that First Nations people get all sorts of things for free, don't pay taxes, and have special rights - and that this is manifestly unfair to regular Canadians. For the most part, though, that's untrue. The vast majority of First Nations people pay taxes just like any other Canadian. It is true, however, that First Nations people have special rights - but those rights are little more than the right to hunt and fish and the right to be consulted when the Crown's actions may infringe on aboriginal rights and title. First Nations constantly have to fight to preserve those limited rights. For the most part, through the Indian Act, First Nations continue to be repressed politically, economically, and culturally. Does that sound like a sweet deal?

Unsurprisingly, the assimilation policy hasn't worked but many Canadians still call for it today. They truly believe that it's the best thing for everyone.

Where We Find Ourselves Today
Today in Attawapiskat, there is a crisis. There are crises in many First Nations communities across Canada. These problems are an accumulation of well-intentioned policies forced upon First Nations from the Government of Canada. Well-intentioned programs and policies continue today - but will they work?

Likely not.

The history of Canada's relationship with Canada's First Nations has been one of paternalism and confrontation. The Government of Canada truly believes it is doing the best thing for First Nations but is frustrated that its efforts keep failing and is frustrated that First Nations keep resisting its efforts - it must be the First Nations' fault, of course.

The First Nations are frustrated that the federal government keeps trying to impose self-serving "solutions" on First Nations that aren't based on an understanding of First Nations' needs, goals, or the reality of their daily lives. Even when a First Nation proposes a solution that requires funding, it must be approved by the federal government and the support is usually under-resourced, short-term, and takes too long to arrive. It must be the Government of Canada's fault, of course.

Frustrating!

Time for a New Policy

So how do we fix this? How to we fix this situation so we don't have people in Canada living in third-world conditions? How do we ensure that First Nations are healthy and thriving and contributing to the patchwork quilt of cultures we call Canada?

It's simple, really.

WE START COLLABORATING. We, as Canadians, need to start recognizing the First Nations, Metis, and Inuit as partners and not "problems". Only by working in partnership and by having an understanding of our mutual challenges and interests will we succeed. Only by empowering First Nations will they succeed economically, socially, and culturally - and when First Nations succeed, we all benefit.

This collaborative approach, while not the norm, has been used successfully in the recent past.

A Defining Moment
So, how will Attawapiskat become a defining moment in Canadian history?

Canadians and the Government of Canada have a choice to make - do we continue to impose well-intentioned "take it or leave it" solutions on Attawapiskat (as Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development Minister John Duncan has been doing so far), or do we change the way we approach our relationship with First Nations? First Nations have been calling for a partnership relationship since the beginning. They're ready and willing. Will we as Canadians finally wake up and see that collaboration is in our best interests, too?

A Call to Action
If you believe that the time has come to adopt a new "Policy of Collaboration", please e-mail Prime Minister Stephen Harper and Minister John Duncan and tell them. Tell them until they can't help but listen. Tell them until they can't help but understand that First Nations can't do it alone, and neither can the Government of Canada.

Indian. It's a confusing word.

2011-12-01T10:34:00.001-08:00

As seen in a Moscow grocery store. That box on the right? It says "basmati".

Indian. It's a confusing word.

Domodedovo

2011-12-01T10:26:00.001-08:00

Moscow has a few airports. All of my flights were through Domodedovo.

S7 is one of Russia's big airlines. All of their jets are this distinctive green colour.

Apparently the Blue Screen of Death knows no international boundaries.

Sitting in one of the emergency exit seats has its benefits!

The Moscow Metro

2011-12-01T09:10:00.001-08:00

The Moscow Metro is a web of rail lines buried deep under the city. You can get to pretty much anywhere in a minimal amount of time - if you know where you're going and which trains to take. The trains come very quickly. The trains are old, but they're in great shape.

Some of the stations are plain-Jane, and some are reminiscent of 1960s ceramic-tiled bathrooms, but some of them are gorgeous, decorated with mosaics and other artwork.

The Kremlin!

2011-11-28T17:44:00.000-08:00

This is the latest in a series of postings about my recent trip to Moscow as I get whisked along by a spritely, speedy tour guide.

You see those towers along the right? The ones that run along that great, tall, wall? Behind that wall lies the Kremlin.

I'm going to absolve myself of any responsibility in trying to explain what the Kremlin is, because it is many things and has been many things. Instead, I defer you to my good friend, Wikipedia - and to an even better source, a Guide to the Moscow Kremlin. The latter explains the Kremlin in a much more interesting manner.

This is a statue of Marshal Georgy Zhukov, the most decorated general in Russia's history. He played a key role in freeing the Soviet Union and other other Eastern European nations from the Axis Powers and was there to conquer Berlin. Check out that headless eagle and the fallen swastika. I had no idea who he was when I saw this statue, but that symbolism isn't hard to interpret.

"Grottoes" were once popular features in palatial gardens. This grotto and now-absent garden lay on the banks of a moat/river that has long since been turned into a moat-less/riverless promenade.

And here it is! Following our zippy tour guide through the metal detectors and security guards, we entered into the fortress-city known as the Moscow Kremlin.

Inside the gates, there was a diverse mixture of old and new architecture. There were numerous palaces and countless churches and chapels.

This is the old Arsenal building.

It is now used as barracks.

Here's the President's Official Residence! We're told he doesn't actually live here, but it is still his official residence. Check out that building to the right of the picture. It's fake! Well, the building behind the facade is real but it took me a while to clue in that it was just a facade! There are a lot of buildings undergoing restoration work in Moscow.

Oh, yeah! It's the WORLD'S LARGEST CANNON! I don't know if those are the World's largest cannon balls, but I do know that I don't want to be the one responsible for loading them into that cannon.

And here's the World's Largest Bell! The Tsar Kolokol III sits, unusable, on a stone pedestal. A massive chunk cracked off the bell (on the other side) - but not when I was there. The story behind the bell is fascinating and you can read it here. By the way, the bell has a clapper (the thing you use to ring a bell). It wasn't originally built with a clapper but someone thought "you can't have a bell without a clapper". At least, that's what our fast-talking tour guide told us. The clapper sits under the bell (behind that gate on the right-hand side of the picture). The crazy thing is, the clapper is too heavy to lift.

We toured a few of the buildings and saw several religious icons. Pictures weren't allowed in the interiors, so here are some pictures of the exteriors for your viewing pleasure.

Oh, look! Another palace!

Our guide took us on a tour of the Armory building. It was fascinating to see the gifts that nations gave to each other, the clothes that people used to wear, the carriages that were used for coronations, and far, far, more. I saw some Fabergé Eggs, too. I never understood what made Fabergé Eggs so special, but now I do.

Fabergé didn't make the eggs himself. He was a project manager. His company made the eggs as Easter gifts to Tsar Imperial family. Each egg had a little toy inside. There was a great amount of thought and meaning behind each egg. And there aren't a lot of them in existence. There are 50 known Imperial eggs. I've seen ten of them.

It was dark by the time we got out of the Armory. I could have spent hours there, but visits are given time limits.

Our speedy tour through Moscow was coming to an end. All that was left was a ride on the Metro - but I'll save that for another entry.

Exploring the "Backroads" Around Red Square.

2011-11-28T17:13:00.000-08:00

During my second visit to Red Square (I'll get back to the tour later), we explored the streets around the area, starting from the "Goom".

The streets there were narrower in this part of the city. I would have expected most of the city to have narrow streets, but that was not the case.

Moscow's streets are surprisingly wide. Some of the streets right down down are more than eight lanes wide. Our tour guide explained two reasons why the streets are so wide. The first reason is because, once upon a time, everyone had yards big enough for food-producing gardens (like mini-farms for every family). Obviously, those urban farms are gone now. The second reason the roads are so wide is because, when they were doing their urban planning, they looked way into the future and said, "We're going to widen these roads to accommodate X number of cars". They haven't reached their car carrying capacity yet but, by gum, they tore down buildings and widened the roads in preparation for the day it happens.

The ГYM

2011-11-27T21:30:00.001-08:00

The ГYM (pronounced "Goom") is a shopping mall that flanks one side of Red Square. Normally I despise shopping malls, but I liked "The Goom".

I liked it so much I went there twice.

The first time I went there was during our fast-paced tour. Without warning, my camera stopped working. And when I say it stopped working, I mean it stopped working. It wouldn't turn on properly no matter how many times I changed the batteries. "E32" was not an error message I liked to see - especially because I had no idea what it meant.

Refusing to accept that I could be traveling in Russia without the ability to take pictures, I dashed off to take advantage of the 15 minutes of free time we had to roam the mall.

There was nothing in the Apple store, but there was a Sony store. I looked at a few of the cameras, priced them out, got cold feet, and walked out of the store. I tried my camera again and walked right back in, bought a camera and then dashed out - well aware that the tour would move on if I didn't meet up with them on time.

As I ran through the mall, James Bond-type music played over the sound system. I kid you not.

I made it just in time.

The second time I went was just to enjoy the architecture. Here are some pictures to give you a little bit of an idea why I enjoyed it.

Red Square

2011-11-27T17:24:00.001-08:00

This is the latest in a series of postings about my recent trip to Moscow as I get whisked along by a spritely, speedy tour guide.

And just like that, we were in Red Square. I must admit, like so many famous people and places from history, I thought it would be bigger. I wasn't disappointed, though.

One of my favourite buildings framing the Square (which is really more of rectangle) was the State Historical Museum. I love buildings with character.

There are so many churches and chapels in and around the Kremlin.

Part of Red Square was closed off while they construct a large, temporary skating area. Although the construction ruined some of the views, it didn't ruin all of them.

The red, fortress wall of the Kremlin flanked one side of the Square. In spite of the colour of the wall and the Square's name, that's not why it's called the Red Square. In Russian, the archaic word for "red" also means "beautiful".

Although we didn't stop at Lenin's tomb with the tour, I went back later to see Lenin's body. Again, he was smaller than I imagined. The state of preservation is extraordinary, if not a little creepy. No cameras are allowed in the tomb (enforced by police officers using metal detectors) but you can see a very accurate picture by clinking the link above.

Toward the river is the cathedral of St. Basil the Blessed. The cathedral is the geometric centre of Moscow.

Our next stop will take us to the GUM (pronounced "goom") and after that, behind the Kremlin walls.

Walking into the Heart of Russia

2011-11-27T12:45:00.001-08:00

This is the latest in a series of postings about my recent trip to Moscow as I get whipped along by a spritely, speedy tour guide.

All roads in Moscow radiate from the Kremlin and Red Square. Some say that the Kremlin and Red Square is the very heart of all Russia. Indeed, many world-changing events have taken place here and it has since been recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site for its cultural significance.

On one of the roads leading to the Red Square and Kremlin is another famous site, the Bolshoi Theatre.

Our van driver dropped us off across the road from the Bolshoi near a statue of Karl Marx. As zippy as ever, our tour guide sped off toward one of the entrances to Red Square. We sped along behind her.

As we approached the entrance, we heard voices screaming over loudspeakers. It sounded like war-time propaganda. When someone asked, our tour guide informed us that it was other tour guides trying to attract customers.

Through the Iberian Gate (behind me in the above picture), we could see the cathedral of St. Basil the Blessed.

In a few short steps, we would be standing in the Red Square.

The Arbat: a Testament to the Power of International Brands

2011-11-26T22:17:00.001-08:00

This is the latest in a series of postings about my recent trip to Moscow as I get whisked along by a spritely, speedy tour guide and a rarin' and racing van driver.

Our van dropped us off at the imposing Ministry of Foreign Affairs building.

Loom. Loom. Loom.

Would you want to mess with someone who worked in a building that looks like this? I sure wouldn't.

The front doors. Don't they just scream "Welcome! Come in for a hot cup of tea!"?

Just around the corner was the Arbat; a kilometre-long pedestrian shopping mall. Our tour guide informed us that we had 45 minutes to look around and buy whatever souvenirs we needed. GO!

In summer, this mall is a hot spot for tourists. November is one of the quiet times, which was good for me and the rest of the the people on our tour because it meant that the shops were more than happy to haggle to make a sale. I have to say, haggling is a lot of fun when you get into it. At first I felt a little guilty but quickly got over it when I was reminded that the stores will never sell anything for a price that they're not willing to accept.

One of the many things about Moscow that surprised me are the buildings. Old, eh? Not really. Many of the buildings use an older architectural style but are sometimes less than just a few years old. Moscow has been through so many fires and wars that it has had to rebuild several times - it just chooses to build in a way that looks like it still has old buildings!

This is a statue of the Princess Turandot. An old statue of a beloved princess from days of olde, right? Wrong. The fountain/statue was completed in 1997 in tribute to the heroine from a soviet-era play. The play was the signature work of the local theatre. It must have been a good play to warrant such a fancy statue!

Now, based on what the people in my group bought during their visit, here's the real highlight of the Arbat . Can you tell what "CTAPБAKC KOФE" means?

If you take the time to learn how to read Cyrillic (which I'm glad I did), you'll realize that it means "Starbucks Coffee"!

If Starbucks a little to high-brow for you, you can always go to the ДAHKИN ДONATC across the street.

And, of course, there's always MAKДOHAЛДC.

DID YOU KNOW? On January 31, 1990, the first Soviet McDonald's opened in Moscow. At the time it was the largest McDonald's in the world. For political reasons, McDonald's Canada was responsible for the opening, with little input from the U.S. parent company; a wall display within the restaurant shows the Canadian and Soviet flags. To overcome Soviet supply problems, the company created its own supply chain, including farms, within the USSR.

With all of those international brands and my new ability to decipher the phonetically-easy-to-read cyrillic alphabet, I somehow became convinced that I could understand Russian.

And then I saw this sign.

I can read the words, but I have no idea what any of it means. If you speak Russian, please, please help.

Oh, and as a bonus, here's another "brand-power" photo from the Sparrow Hills.

Next up on our whirlwind tour of Moscow is the Red Square and the Kremlin. Stay tuned!

Moscow: As Seen at High Speed Through Dirty Van Windows

2011-11-26T19:52:00.001-08:00

Our tour guide, Tatiana, was fast. She talked fast and she walked fast. It was a good thing she could talk fast, too, because the first part of our tour was in a rented van and the driver drove fast. We flew past all sorts of interesting sights and tried to take pictures through the muddy van windows as Tatiana spewed forth all sorts of fascinating tidbits about Moscow's history and life in the most-northerly city with a population greater than 10,000,000 people.

Moscow's name (locally pronounced "Moscva") is thought to have meant swamp or swampy water when it was founded sometime prior to 1147 AD. Although there is some debate, it generally has something to do with swamps. Other cities have changed their names, depending on what has been in vogue at the time, but not Moscow. If I ever find myself founding a city, I'm not going to call it Michaelsville or Michaelsberg or anything like that, I'm going to call it Muskegville or Sloughsberg.

For some reason, all of the street lights had a sign that reads as "stop" in cyrillic. Moscow, I should mention, has aggressive drivers, but they're still not as aggressive as they are in other countries I've visited. Generally, the stop lights are obeyed.
Oh, look! It's the church of St. Nicholas! Zooooooom!

I never even noticed that guy up on the steeple until I started doing this blog entry.

And there's Tolstoy's house! We heard a little bit about Tolstoy's very interesting demeanour. And then? Zooom!

Ah, the Novodevichy Convent (or New Maidens' Monestary)! Zoooooooom!

The Olympic Stadium! Zooooooooooooooom!

The Sparrow Hills! The Sparrow Hills were once the country-side hunting grounds of the rich and famous. Only men were allowed. See that bit of green in the picture? That was where a bunker was built to protect the politicians if the bomb dropped - because nothing could be more confounding to your enemy than having 11 million people killed but the politicians still alive, kicking, and radioactive.

And there's Lomonosov Moscow State University! The university is so big, with so many rooms, that it would take, apparently, forty years to visit every single one of them. With 1,000,000m² floor area and 1,000 buildings and structures, it sounds like one of those rare challenges that I'll take a pass on.

There was a good view of the city from the Sparrow Hills. The viewpoint, overlooking the Olympic Stadium, appeared to be a popular place for wedding photos. It was also a popular place for tourist kitsch and urban-camo-clad police. See that writing on the back of his jacket? It says "Polizia". I'll post more pictures from our stop there later. This entry is dedicated to pictures that were taken from the van. Zooooom!

Did you know that there are more billionaires in Moscow than any other city in the world? There were 79, according to the 2010 census. I'm guessing this stretched SUV didn't belong to one of them, but was rented by one of the many wedding parties visiting the lookout.

A neat, covered, bridge! ZOOOOOM!!!

I have no idea what this building is! Zooooooooooooooooom!!!!

Hey! Is that the Moscva River? ZOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

Next stop? The Arbat!

YXY to YVR to FRA to DME

2011-11-26T16:37:00.001-08:00

Wow, it has been a long time since I've posted! I've had good reason, though. You see, I was out of the country for a little while.

I went to Siberia.

Seriously.

I'll chronicle parts of my trip over the next few entries, starting with this one.

____________

Flying to Vancouver

I was up way too early. Flying with my least favourite airline in the world wasn't my choice. The flight had been booked by the folks paying for my trip to Russia, so who was I to complain?

I don't know why they made the flight so early. I once suspected they scheduled their flights that way so people can get from Whitehorse to Vancouver in time for 9:00 meetings. Now I suspect it's for another reason.

In typical Air Canada fashion, there was a problem with the aircraft. Air Canada has had problems with their plane every single time I've been scheduled to fly out of Whitehorse. It's just one of the many reasons why I don't book with them. To their credit, when it became clear that they weren't going to get the plane working any time soon, they bought all of the passengers tickets on the best airline on the continent - Air North. I think the reason the Air Canada flights leave so early is so that they can book their passengers on a reliable airline's regularly scheduled flight when their plane doesn't work.

There were a lot of very happy passengers. The Air North plane is more comfortable, the flight crew is great, and they serve food for no additional cost.

It was the first time in ages that I can remember being happy with Air Canada.

Getting a Russian Visa
It takes some time getting a visa for Russian travel. First there is the application for the letter of invitation, then one has to wait for the official letter of invitation, and then there's the visa application.

The visa requires an in-person application. For residents of the Yukon, the in-person application needs to be made at the embassy in Ottawa - a mere 5,660km as the crow flies. I hired a broker to handle the visa application, but it took so long for the letter of invitation to come that we weren't sure the visa was going to arrive on time.

It was tight. Really tight. I mean, it came down to they broker saying "we'll be there at the airport in Vancouver with your passport and visa" kind of tight.

But they did it.

On Tour at YVR
Did you know they offer school tours at the Vancouver airport? I do. That is, I do now - and they're great! Although somewhat worried that I might come across as "the creepy guy who was following the school tour around" I did it anyway. The tour guides are great, and I had no idea there were so many interesting stories behind the art and operations of YVR!

Sending the Sushi Back
I was originally planning on taking the Skytrain downtown to eat at one of my preferred sushi restaurants, but after getting my visa, checking my bag, taking a work-related phone call, and getting some Roubles, I didn't want to take the chance that I wouldn't make it back on time. Instead, I opted to try one of the sushi restaurants in the airport.

It was a nice-looking place. They had little boats floating in a chain that would, at some point, be loaded with dim sum. I ordered the assorted sashimi and waited and waited and waited.

When it finally came I was starving. Ready to tuck in, I got a whiff of old fish.

Eww.

I sniffed my plate and identified the source. I looked around for one of the staff members. Food poisoning is not a pleasant way to start an international journey. There were no waiters or waitresses to be seen.

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally caught the eye of one of the sushi chefs. I let him know that one of the pieces smelled. He scooped the dish up and went to work preparing an entirely new plate. Which was good, because I was expecting him to take off just the offending pieces and replace them with two others.

The sushi was OK, but not great. And the service still sucked, especially for what they charge. Next time, I'll take a chance with the sky train.

Liftoff with Lufthansa
It was over ten hours to Frankfurt and another three to Moscow. The planet was cloudy between Vancouver and Moscow and most of the trip was done in darkness, which meant that I didn't get to see any of the spectacular sights - like Baffin Island and Greenland - along the way.

Still, my neighbour on the YVR to FRA flight was good company and I managed to take numerous naps along the way, preparing me for the 12-hour time difference between Whitehorse and Moscow.

Clearing Customs
I was tired when we got to Domodedovo Airport in Moscow, but excited - and a little nervous. Clearing customs in a foreign country can be a frightening experience, especially when language barriers get mixed into bureaucratic processes.

I stood in line and waited. And then the booth closed. I moved to another line and waited. And then the booth closed. By the third line, I was getting fed up. New planes were arriving and the lines were getting long again. Some guy tried to butt in front of me and I shoved him out of the way with my elbow. It was very uncharacteristic of me, but I had read in more than one place that it's normal behaviour. He got the message and, apparently, held no grudge.

It was finally my turn and I stepped forward. The young lady behind the counter took my passport, scanned it into some sort of device and then kept looking and me and smiling in a manner that made me somewhat... uncomfortable. It wasn't like she was checking me out to make sure my face matched my passport, it was like she was checking me out because she was checking me out. I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I stared at her like a deer in the headlights.

After what seemed like an eternity of staring and smiling, she let me through.

The Taxi Ride
Domodedovo Airport is a fair distance outside of Moscow. Depending on traffic, it's at least an hour's ride. A driver was supposed to meet our small Yukon contingent, but the one driver that we saw holding a "Canada" sign didn't want to have anything to do with us. We arranged for a taxi for 2,000 roubles (about $70 CAD).

Our taxi driver was in the wrong profession. He should have been a stunt driver. He wove in and out of traffic with the greatest of speed, not caring that the air temperature was near freezing and the road was wet from melted snow. I saw my life flash before me no less than six times. When we got stuck in traffic he turned the car off, got out, and smoked a cigarette. Later, he swore at a police officer. In fact, there was only one word that he said that we knew and that was just one of the many words he used.

The Hotel
I walked past the security guards and up to the front desk of the Mariott Tverskaya. After getting my key I went straight up to my room and crawled into bed. It was nearly 11:00 pm in Moscow (which was actually 11:00 am for me, but by that point it didn't matter). I slept right through to the morning. Oh, the sweet bliss of a comfy bed!

There was no time to be jet lagged. In the morning we would be participating in a cultural program: a tour of Moscow.

But that's the next entry.

A Werewolf in Whitehorse!?

2011-10-30T20:41:00.000-07:00

We all went for a little hike today. With the little bit of snow we have on the ground, it's great for seeing tracks! We saw mink tracks and rabbit tracks and mouse tracks and squirrel tracks and bird tracks and more.

The most impressive of them all, though, were some huge canine tracks. Just how big does that dog-like beast need to be to have a paw pad nearly as big as my hand!??!

To provide a little more context, you see the dog prints to the right of my hand print? Those are Nanuq's tracks.

Nanuq isn't a giant dog, but he isn't a tiny dog, either.

Check this one out. It's a different print, but from the same canine. See that coin? That's not a penny. That's a loonie. A great, big, freakin' loonie (no bigger than other loonies, just pointing out that it looks tiny in the canine's print).

You may have noticed that I keep calling it a canine print. I'm not calling it a dog print because, well, it's more comparable to a wolf print in size. But it's a strange place for a wolf print to be. The area where I found the track is well within the realm of canis domesticus and homo sapiens. Furthermore, the track seemed quite purposeful, heading straight down the road. Wild dogs tend to investigate things along the way. Hmmm... maybe the tracks aren't from a wolf or a dog at all...

Maybe they're from... a werewolf!

That would be so cool.

But unlikely. Which is why we enjoyed a small campfire and snack in the warm sunshine of an early winter's day without fearing the imminent attack of a werewolf.

Besides, everyone knows that werewolves only come out when there's a full moon...

MONSTER!

2011-10-30T20:27:00.000-07:00

I took the girls and one of their friends to the "Hallowe'en Spooktacular" at the Canada Games Centre on Saturday. It was quite the event! There were games, stories, puppetry, and a big tunnel "maze" (like, a giant, long, fort).

They loved it.

Or, rather, Jade and her friend loved it. Halia didn't love it quite so much and that's entirely because of this guy...

Jade had no problems with him. She was excited to have her picture taken with him. Halia, on the other hand - my child without fear - was absolutely petrified! She could not bear to look at him without crying and wailing, "Take me home! Take me home!" She clung to me like her life depended on it.

She wasn't the only kid who seemed to be affected. He might not look all that scary in this picture - and he wasn't trying to be scary, but what you can't see in this still-shot is the way his googly eyes moved. The moved independently of each other. They kind of vibrated. It was like he could see in nearly every direction at once. Creeeepy!And awesome.

Ah, Hallowe'een, you wouldn't be a tenth as great as you are if you couldn't scare the wits out of small children.

Stuff I haven't blogged about (until now)

2011-10-29T00:41:00.000-07:00

I'm so far behind on my blogging it's crazy. Instead of trying to do individual posts for everything, I'm gong to do a quick rundown on a few things now.

1. Sailing
We got out and did some sailing this year. Not as much as I would have liked, of course, but the sailing that we did was great. The winds were fantastic this year, steady and very useable. I have pictures and may post them yet. But not now.

2. The Yukon Adventure Challenge
I competed in the Yukon Adventure Challenge again, this time as a soloist (the first ever allowed to compete as a soloist). I came in third and might have done even better if I hadn't taken a couple of boneheaded "shortcuts". You can read about the race here!

3. The Yukon Adventure Magazine
Dogsled Stacie has started an online "Yukon Adventure Magazine". I've contributed a couple of our short family adventures. You can read about hiking up to the Grey Mountain caves here and picnicking and paddling on Chadburn lake here.Here are a few pictures from the trips:

Naughty little monsters.

2011-10-29T00:23:00.001-07:00

Is it just me, or is there something very... wrong about this?Oh, Tim Hortons. There's so much I'd like to say right now, but it's just not appropriate for this blog.

I paca, you paca, we alpaca!

2011-10-27T23:36:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, Midnight Sun Alpacas had a "Farm Fair". I was single parenting (Fawn was at Breakout West) and it seemed like it would be a fun activity to do with the girls, so I took them. I'm glad we went!

We were allowed to get up close and personal with the alpacas, who seemed to be as curious about the kids as the kids were about the alpacas. We were even allowed into the alpaca pens and got to pet some of them.

Some of the alpacas were used for more than their wool. Like horses, they had little bridles on their faces. Jade really wanted to visit the one with the reddish bridle. As you can see, she was very excited...

... but it was the greyish one that really made her laugh with its little, bleating "aaah!"

The roosters were noisy and fun to watch. They looked big with their pouffy winter feathers, but nowhere near as big as the...

...turkeys! They were puffing themselves up and coming to visit the girls, putting on a great display.

We all agreed that the turkeys were our favourite. I don't know why - there's just something about them that's cool! Maybe it's that weird skin on their head or how they like to strut around all puffy-chested.

Finally, the girls got to go for a carriage ride behind one of the alpacas! How many people can say they've been pulled by an alpaca? Check that one off the bucket list!

I'll be keeping my eyes open for this one when they host the Midnight Sun Alpaca Farm Fair again next year - and this time I'll bring some cash to buy one of their nice sweaters!

Going bananas!

2011-10-27T22:43:00.001-07:00

My humblest apologies. I know it has been a long time since I posted last. You see, I have been going bananas - for bananas. Bananas fried in rice paper, that is.

Its super-easy to make and if I tried to tell you how delicious it all is you would think I'm spewing the most ludicrous hyperbole ever invented. And that's not hyperbole.

Instead, make it yourself and try it and then tell me if I'm going overboard!

It takes about 10-15 minutes, depending on how many you make.

Here are the instructions (and sorry that the pictures aren't great; I've been using my mobile device a lot lately):

1) Peel some bananas. If they're big, cut them into quarters.

2) Put some brown sugar into a deep plate with some warm water. Place a sheet of rice paper into the sugary, warm water for about 30 seconds (or until the rice paper is pliable but not fragile).

3) When the rice paper is ready, wrap your banana like you might a burrito. Tuck in those ends!

They should look like this when you're done.

4) Heat up some oil (I use corn oil). Get it good and hot. You don't want to try frying your wrapped bananas until the oil is ready. When it is, fry! You might want to use a splatter guard since there might be a bit of water on your wrapped bananas and hot oil and water don't like each other.

The frying doesn't take long - and you don't want it to, otherwise your bananas will get too mushy.

5) When your wrapped bananas are nice and crispy, place them on a paper towel or other clean, absorbent surface.

6) You can sprinkle all sorts of things on top. Cinnamon, cocoa, icing sugar, maple syrup... the opportunities abound! My favourite is just a touch of maple syrup and icing sugar.

7) Enjoy!

Advanced selective breeding.

2011-10-12T10:49:00.003-07:00

Buoyed by the success of Yukon Gold, our local farmers have decided to grow increasingly odd strains of potatoes...

When bigger is smaller.

2011-10-12T10:46:00.000-07:00

If time is relative so is size, I guess.

You can have your raison d'etre...

2011-10-12T10:42:00.002-07:00

... I'll have my raisons sans graines.

Nine.

2011-10-12T10:30:00.001-07:00

As of today, I have had the good fortune to be married to my wonderful wife for nine wonderful years.How she puts up with me I'll never know - but I'm sure glad she does!

The strange wisdom of children.

2011-09-09T21:20:00.001-07:00

Child of mine: Papa, I need to go poo.
Me (preparing supper): OK, go poo then.
Child of mine (shouting from the bathroom): I'm done going poo!
Me: OK, you know what to do.
Child of mine:   But I want you to wipe me!
Me: You can do it. You need to do it. That's how you learn!
Child of mine:  But I don't want to learn!
Me: You want someone else to wipe your bum for the rest of your life?
Child of mine:   Yes!
Me: What? Really?
Child of mine:   I was just kidding. I need to kid sometimes otherwise I'll forget how to laugh, right Papa?

Bob's Bachelor Bush Bash

2011-09-07T09:50:00.001-07:00

One of the big reasons we went to Ontario this summer was for my friend's wedding. The stereotypical bachelor party is just not Bob's style, so we did something that was. We went canoeing.

We paddled Black Donald and Centennial Lakes along the Madawaska river systems.

The water was warm, and judging by the number of minnows in the shallows was very productive.It was also hot out, but being on the water made the heat a little more bearable. We took it easy, having a general plan but mostly winging it. We chose our route according to our mood without much of a destination in mind. It's kind of a nice way to do it, really. Most of the paddling I've done in the last few years has been down rivers where there's little question about where you might end up.
One channel we took around an island had a recent collapse along the bank. We stopped to investigate. The picture doesn't do it justice, but there was a pattern in the sandstone that looked like a giant turtle shell.We were out for two nights. After we made camp for the second night, we took it easy. We explored a bit of the area, I took a swim in the warm lake water, we cooked over the fire, and just hung out.

It's a pretty nice way to spend a bachelor weekend, really!

Evergreen Mountain

2011-09-06T00:22:00.000-07:00

While in Ontario, I did a bit of exploring with my dad. My childhood memory bank is brimming with great adventures while exploring with my dad. I have no doubts about how I caught the exploring bug. Now, living so far away, we don't get to go exploring together like we used to - so I was glad that we got the chance when I was there.

He had his eyes set on Evergreen Mountain. At 417m (1,368ft), it's a high point in the Madawaska Highlands (and may be the high point, from what I understand). My dad had never been there, so of course he had to check it out.

And of course I had to join him.

We started off on an old forestry road, turned onto an old trapline, turned onto an old foot trail, made our way back to an old trapline (after walking through a patch of stinging nettle - ouch!), onto a different, forestry road, and onto a recently-cleared "road" (the purpose of which was not entirely apparent).

We came to a small, pretty lake. The rocks around the lake were not like most of the rocks in the area. They reminded me of the types of rock that might be found in a karstland.

There were some interesting rocks in the area and I really wished I knew more about mineralogy.

While I was staring at the ground, I noticed a teeeeeeny, tiny frog!

It wasn't easy to see the mountain through the trees. Fortunately, we found a way to get there and started making our way up along the ridge.

There were some amazingly-white quartz seams running along the mountain.

Evergreen mountain isn't much of a mountain by Yukon standards, but makes for a nice hike if you happen to be in the Madawaska Highlands. There was much more to see, but we had to start back down. Never via the same route, of course. That just wouldn't work for my dad. Or me.

We followed a little ravine that ran down the middle of the mountain back to our original trail. The colours in the ravine were fascinating.

On the way out, we passed by a wetland that we had passed on the way in. Beside the trail, I noticed that the water in the wetland was draining down into the ground and disappearing. The wetland is surrounded by rock on all sides. It was fascinating to watch. I'd love to know where that water ends up. I took some video of it which I may or not post some day. Maybe if I get enough requests...

On the drive home we saw a young buck, white-tailed deer...

... and a doe and a couple of fawns. Aww! Aren't they cute!

All-in-all, it was a successful afternoon of exploring. We made it to Evergreen Mountain, saw a tiny frog and some other wildlife, and were confounded by a mysteriously-draining wetland.

It's impossible to go for a hike with my dad without it being interesting.

Climbing with my bros.

2011-08-31T21:39:00.002-07:00

A couple of days after we took the kids climbing near Calabogie, my brother, brother-in-law and I went out for a bit of our own climbing fun.

"No climb is too challenging" was our motto.

Most of the pictures are of me climbing because, well, my brother looks too cool when he climbs.

See what I mean?

If I posted a bunch of pictures of him, all I'd get are requests from newly adoring fans asking when I'm going to post more pictures of him. So that's all you get. Three and no more, so don't even ask.

I mean it.

And here's my brother-in-law. He's over fourteen feet tall and can reach the top of the cliff without even thinking about it. Here he is pretending that climbing takes any kind of effort for him.

I mean, look at that reach!

I has been years since I've done any climbing. My very unstylish helmet is a testament to that. It's hard to look cool when one is wearing a giant blue mushroom on one's head. Nevertheless, my lack of coolness didn't prevent me from having some great climbs. It was like riding a bike! But up a cliff!

When you've done it once you never really forget how to do it.

What style! What grace! What is that? A frog?

This was a spot that I had to attempt several times. Oh, it looks easy in the pictures, but I assure you that it was not. It was a tricky little overhang...

... but I got it!

My success inspired me to try another one.

I got that one, too!

Before long, the sun came around and started baking the cliffs. It got too hot to climb so we packed it in. It was great to get out and spend some quality time with my brother and brother-in-law. Later that afternoon I would some quality time with my dad doing what we like to do best - exploring. Details to follow!

Climbing with Kids

2011-08-28T23:28:00.001-07:00

I have a severe blogging backlog that I will try to address over the coming week. Get ready for a bounty of binge blogging!

First up is a continuation of our trip to Ontario. My family (parents, brother and sister and respective partners and their kids) all went rock climbing at Calabogie.

First up was a short hike, followed by some preparation (getting the ropes ready for climbing, etc.). The kids were, naturally, excited.

It was Jade's and Halia's first time climbing in a harness. They're natural climbers (as most kids are) but once the harness and rope was on they temporarily forgot how to climb - but not for long!

First up was Halia, belayed by my brother, Tim...

Then Fawn took a turn. She went up the wall like a bolt of lightning!

Even my Mum tried it, much to our delight.

I belayed Jade for her turn.

She didn't make it to the top, but it was fun while it lasted! It didn't take her long to get comfortable with the idea of being in a harness.

There are lots of great climbs around Whitehorse. It makes me want to get a new rope and a couple of kids harnesses and do some family climbing. I'm putting that on the agenda for next summer!

Earning the bell...

2011-08-02T12:04:00.000-07:00

"I want a bell for my bike!" Jade announced.

"After you learn how to ride without training wheels," I replied.

I knew it wouldn't be a simple task. When I said it, Jade still had some lingering balance issues. At the time, we weren't 100% certain if the balance issues were because of epilepsy-related complications or chronic inner-ear infections. Still, her balance was improving and she seemed eager to learn how to ride.

Most of the time, anyway.

We started with training wheels. I raised the wheels higher and higher and encouraged her to lean from side to side and then try to ride in the middle so the training wheels wouldn't touch the ground. Most of the time she listed to port like a holed schooner.

"Can I have my bell now?" she would ask. A big, squeaking frog, it sat there, tantalizingly, on the kitchen table.

"When you ride your bike without training wheels," I reminded her.

Then Fawn bought a Gyrobike Gyrowheel. The wheel was four times the cost of her bike and when I heard about it, I winced. The Gyrowheel is a heavily-weighted gyroscope that helps the bike stay upright at low speeds. The company claimed it would make learning to ride much easier and with fewer falls. Money down the drain, I figured. An expensive gimmick, I thought.

Almost right away, though, Jade started developing good riding technique, understanding how to lean and turn properly. It all seemed very intuitive to her with the Gyrowheel. Very quickly, she unlearned all of the bad habits that she had developed with the training wheels. After a couple of short rides on the Gyrowheel's highest setting, I let go and she was riding on her own.

She stopped almost immediately. I'd get her going, let go, and she'd stop again. She kept stopping, only ever riding ten feet at a time.

"Why do you keep stopping?" I asked.

"I want to you hold onto my seat."

I pretended to hold onto her seat, but didn't. She couldn't tell. After we had ridden all the way down the street I told her that I wasn't holding on, she was surprised and very impressed with herself.

"Papa, I rode my bike without training wheels. Can I have my bell now?"

"You're riding without training wheels, but the special wheel is still helping you. After we don't need the special wheel anymore you can have your bell. OK?"

"Ok."

In very little time, with the wheel on the highest setting, she went from being a Nervous Nelly who didn't want me to let go of the back of her seat to a giggling maniac, high on the power of riding on her own. She started making tight turns. She knew how to stop, but she would aim at the curb or ride for the ditch at full speed - just because she could. My heart would race and I would pull muscles with sudden lurches forward to save her, but it was all pure hilarity to her! I began to realize that somewhere inside my quiet, little child lurks a daredevil. A real, honest-to-goodness daredevil.

After each round of riding, I lowered the power of the gyroscope. If she ever noticed, she never said so. She just kept riding.

She only fell once, during one of her maniacal daredevil gigglefests. A few tears were shed, a little sand was wiped off a knee and a hand, and she was on her way again within a minute.

This morning, I turned the Gyrowheel off altogether. She was riding on her own!

And she got her long-awaited "bell"; that big, squeaking frog that sat tantalizingly on our kitchen table. Together, we put it on her bike and then she rode off, squeaking her horn as she made her way down the street.

I think we're both pretty proud.

A Message from the Government of Canada

2011-07-25T23:26:00.000-07:00

... or else.

Parliament Hill

2011-07-25T23:24:00.000-07:00

If you were wondering why it has been so quiet here, it's because we were out of town for a while. A dear friend of mine was getting married and we were past due for a family visit so - after our visit to Vancouver for Jade's EEG and time with my new niece and her family - we boarded a plane for Ottawa.

Although I've been back to Ottawa several times since I moved from there (fleeing the oppressive humidity, smog, traffic, and line-ups) it had been over a decade since I'd visited Parliament Hill. I wanted to take a walk down memory land and I wanted the kids to see it, too.

Guards from the War Memorial.

Fawn in front of the Chateau Laurier. (Did you know that the original furniture for the Chateau Laurier went down with the Titanic?)

The kids in front of the not-always-eternal Eternal (Centennial) Flame.

My parents came to pick up the girls later in the afternoon, freeing Fawn and me to visit with friends. We met up with some in-town and out-of-town friends at a pub in the Byward Market and later took a evening stroll toward the Parliament Buildings, stopping at the Peacekeeping Monument along the way.

The cooling evening was a pleasant reprieve from the heat and humidity of the day. As we looked over Major's Hill Park and the Ottawa Locks of the Rideau Canal, we could hear music and see lights emanating from the Parliament Buildings.

Spotlights forced their way up into the humid night sky...

... while bugs sizzled and smoked on the lights themselves.

I wanted to visit the "Cat House". No, I'm not referring to a brother. Nor am I referring to the House of Commons.

It's one of the Hill's best unkept secrets that, to the west of the Centre Block, there is a house for stray cats. The cats have a long history on Parliament Hill.

Windows on the west side of the Centre Block.

The cat house doesn't just house cats, though. Other visitor are common.

We made our way back to the front of the Centre Block where a fantastic light show was taking place. Lights projected from the Capital Info Centre on Wellington danced across the stone face of the Centre Block.

It was a good night and a nice way to be welcomed back to Ottawa.

More Ottawa entries to follow.

Where, oh where, has my little dog gone?

2011-07-25T13:17:00.000-07:00

Nanuq

I hadn't slept well the night before. The house felt a little too empty. 21 hours had gone by.

I methodically walked through the underbrush in the greenbelt.

Whistle.

Listen.

I stopped to examine some tracks. They weren't his.

Too big.

Whistle.

Listen.

It didn't make any sense. A well-trained dog, Nanuq only leaves the yard when he's commanded to, or if he's following me or Fawn. He's nearly nine. It's so ingrained in his character that I can't imagine him wandering off on his own accord.

Oh, that's interesting.

I notice that there's a patch of matted grass. Like a deer would make. A large one. Maybe Nanuq chased a bear or other animal. There's a trail of matted grass leading to the bedding site. I backtrack on the trail.

Moose. Older tracks, though. No sign of Nanuq.

Whistle.

Listen.

A new theory starts to form in my head.

We have foxes and coyotes around our place. Nanuq loves to chase them, but he always comes back. Maybe a fox came into our yard. It has happened before. Maybe he chased it. Maybe he was injured. Critically. Maybe he went to lie down somewhere and passed away. Alone.

I had called the vet clinics to see if someone had found him and taken him to one. "Yes, he's here!" the first clinic told me.

"He is?!!?" I replied.

"Yes, his name is Max, right?"

"Uh, no. His name is Nanuq."

None of the other vet clinics had seen him either.

I don't like to think about it, but the injury theory makes more sense than Nanuq just wandering off on his own. He just wouldn't do that. It's too out of character. I don't like to think about it, but it feels like something I should be prepared to accept. I prepare to accept it and continue to search all of the little hiding places in the greenbelt where a dog might curl up and die.

Whistle.

Listen.

I know that if he's dead he won't be able to respond. I whistle anyway.

Did someone encourage him to leave the yard? Try to take him for a walk? Who would do such a thing? Did they shoo him away later? Is he locked up behind someone's fence? Inside their house? They wouldn't be able to call us. His tags went missing a while back and we hadn't gotten around to replacing them. It's not like he ever wanders off, right?

Right.

Whistle louder.

Listen.

It makes no sense. He always comes when called.

I think about the last time I saw him. It was quarter to one the day before. I was climbing on my bike, ready to race off to a workshop at Mount McIntyre. Nanuq looked at me excitedly.

"Sorry, bud. Not this time."

Normally I would have taken him, but the workshop was six hours long - too long to leave him waiting outside - and if I didn't go fast, I would be late. With the onset of arthritis, he hasn't been able to keep up like he used to.

His ears drooped and he moped. He understood. I sped off and gave a quick glance back to make sure he wasn't following me. That was the last time I saw him.

I chided myself. Maybe he followed me. I didn't expressly tell him to stay.

I searched my route for tracks.

Those are about right, but it's a high-traffic area. Lots of dog tracks. Let me check a little further along.

I checked the trail, but it had rained and dried since. I checked a sandy portion of the trail and identified the tire tracks from my bike - two distinct treads - but didn't see any dog tracks.

Maybe he got hit by a car. No blood on the road, but there isn't always blood.

I checked the ditch. Nothing.

So many ravens over there. Are they gathering around a carcass?

I walked over to investigate. The ravens flew away. There was no carcass.

Whistle.

Listen.

It didn't make sense.

Not long after I got back, I got a phone call.

"Look on the City's website," Lorie said. There are two dogs on there.

I had called By-Law Services earlier and gave them a description.

After a little searching, I found the page she wanted me to look at.

It was Nanuq. He had been found at the Canada Games Centre.

It made total sense. It was totally in line with his character.

I hadn't expressly told him to stay. An intelligent dog who understands more than just black and white, Nanuq must have taken my glance back as an "are you coming?" He chased me but couldn't keep up. I was riding too fast. Determined, he went to where he thought I was going - the place I usually go when I race down Hamilton Boulevard with a backpack on. And then he waited outside for me to come back out.

Smart, stupid dog.

He wagged his bum excitedly but hung his head sheepishly when he saw me.

He has a new tag.

I'm glad he's back.

The Mountie: He Ain't No Dudley Do-Right

2011-07-02T09:29:00.001-07:00

While Vancouver's Granville Street was buzzing with vendors and people celebrating Canada Day, my brother-in-law and I ducked into the eerie quietness of of the movie theatre. We were there to see the late showing of "The Mountie", a filmed-in-Yukon movie and Canada's answer to the Western genre.

According to the Globe and Mail, the director tried hard to get the video to open on Canada Day. He shouldn't have. Including me and my brother-in-law, there were five of us in the theatre. The movie premiered in Toronto, Calgary, and Vancouver, with openings in other Canadian cities on July 8th.

Here's my review...

It's about freakin' time that Canada had a gritty Western to contribute to the genre. (Gunless - the only other Canadian Western I can think of - is a comedy and a complete success on that front, in my opinion.)

Reviewers and viewers alike will rant and rave about the camera work and the scenery, but I won't. The Yukon landscape can be absolutely mind-blowing. They had a lot to work with and I think they fell short of capturing just how mind-blowingly stunning it is. But I'm biased. I live there.

The entire movie is shot in a style that makes the Yukon seem dark, wet, and cold. It's a style that lends itself well to a dark, gritty movie, but it becomes monotonous after a while. By working with a palette of colours and moods, the landscape could have been used as a much-needed release valve for the tension the movie imparts.

The entire movie is filled with tension right from the start. While it works for some movies, I truly believe The Mountie could have benefitted from some lighter moments. I love a movie that takes you on an emotional roller-coaster ride. The Mountie is like a roller-coaster that only goes up; it's fun at first but without that release, the tension-building action loses its effectiveness.

Based on the reviews I've seen so far, most of the criticism is of the plot. In my mind, if you're looking for a "hero goes into town, finds a bunch of bad guys and deals with them appropriately" Western, then The Mountie more than fits the bill. If an original plot (or a fun twist on an old one) is what you need, go rent Gunless.

I'm trying to decide if the movie needs more character development or less. The hero has a past, but we learn very little about what that past is. It seems a little superfluous, really, and might have benefitted from no character development whatsoever - and then it would have been a true "hero goes into town, finds a bunch of bad guys and deals with them appropriately" Western.

I love that the hero isn't an invincible "kicking butt and taking names" kind of guy. He's more of a "taking names and then getting his butt kicked again and again and again before kicking butt" kind of a guy. That worked very well for me.

The hero really is pretty one dimensional, and I blame that on the writing. The movie won't win any awards for scriptwriting, but lead actor Andrew Walker pulls it off. Comparisons will be made to Clint Eastwood and deservedly so. Andrew Walker isn't a Clint Eastwood copycat - He's the new Clint Eastwood. (I should note that my brother-in-law, when he saw who the lead actor was, calmly commented "Oh, I played football with him." Small country.)

I think the casting was superb and my only criticism of the acting was that lead baddie actor George Buza's accent could have used some more work. Oh, and while the Robert Service poetry was a nice touch, it should have been read by someone with a little more gavitas than a little girl.

The score was lovely and the music worth listening to all on its own.

It's hard to make a movie that's set in the wilderness. I am often disappointed when I see movies of people wandering the "remote woods" over heavily traveled trails or old roads. On this front, the camera work and directing in "The Mountie" raised the bar on wilderness filming. It feels like the characters are in the bush and you're right there with them.

All-in-all, it's a low-budget movie that takes itself very seriously. A few minor changes could have made this B+ movie into an A-level Western, but it's too late to make those changes now.

If you're not a fan of Westerns or Yukon scenery, don't bother with "The Mountie" - there's little in it for you. If you are a fan of Westerns and/or Yukon scenery, then it's worth watching and maybe even adding to your collection.

And I have my fingers crossed that the director will take another run at the genre or inspire others to try their hand - because I'd love to see more Canadian Westerns.

A Jade Status Update: EEG Confirmation

2011-06-30T12:17:00.000-07:00

We're in Vancouver right now for a variety of reasons. One of those reasons was for Jade. It has been a while since her last EEG.

I remember her first EEG well. It was like a little stab at my heart every time I saw the EEG spike. Every spike was a seizure and she was having a lot of seizures. Many of them weren't visible on the outside, but they were happening. My heart got stabbed a lot during that EEG.

The ketogenic diet (and improvements that came with drug weaning and constant tweaking of the diet - including an unbelievable and intolerable couple of rounds at 5:1) has been nothing short of a miracle for Jade. It has been over a year since we witnessed her last seizure, but the worries about the subclinical seizures - the ones we see no evidence of on the outside - remained.

Two days ago, we hooked Jade up for a 24-hour ambulatory EEG.

Yesterday we got the results.

While there is still some minor "slowing" in the background, this is not uncommon for a child with Myoclonic Astatic Epilepsy. The big news was that there were absolutely no spikes. None. She's not having any seizures. Her EEG was remarkable for its normal-ness.

Jade's doctor was thrilled, the keto team was thrilled, and we're thrilled.

Jade has been on a 4.75 ratio for about a year-and-a-half. Based on the excellent results, we'll be reducing her ratio to 4.5. It's the first step in weaning her off the diet. Then, we'll travel to Vancouver in another six months for another EEG to see how things are going with the wean.

All through this experience, I've had what can best be described as a pessimistic optimism - hoping in my heart of hearts that it will work out, but knowing that the worst can happen and mentally preparing for it - but this time I know it's going to work. I can feel it.

Yukon Newsflash: An Editorial

2011-06-30T11:54:00.001-07:00

Yukon News, the insanity must stop. You had not one "Carrier of the Month" for April, but two. At the time, I demanded a showdown. I wanted to know who truly earned the title for April's Carrier of the Month.

You didn't respond.

Now, for May, you insulted your carriers again by double-awarding the honour - and you upped the level of insult by placing the announcements right next to each other.

Is this really how you let your star carriers know they're appreciated? Or is it some kind of sick, perverse joke?

Perhaps this is a symptom of why your carrier turnover is so high?

Who is the Carrier of the Month? Your carriers deserve to know, their parents deserve to know, and your readers deserve to know.

Yukon News, your credibility is at stake - and the news business is one that's built on credibility (or incredulity if you're in the business of "shock news"). It's time to be accountable for your actions and own up. We deserve an explanation.

(Oh, and why are your carrier's faces superimposed on a Torah?)

Lorena Bobbit's Preferred Brand.

2011-06-30T11:36:00.001-07:00

Insert thoughts, puns, and whatever else springs to mind in the comment box below.

A Happy Father's Day.

2011-06-20T13:40:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, a fellow dad and I loaded our kids onto the sailboat and set sail on Kusawa Lake for an overnight trip. I was completely unaware that Sunday was Father's Day. Regardless, with a good steady breeze out of the south carrying us silently most of the way down the lake, and my daughters happy to be out on an adventure, it was a fantastic way spend Father's Day. Even if I was oblivious to what day it was.

Saturday Night Hoedown

2011-06-11T10:40:00.001-07:00

Here's another tune from Allan Benjamin's & Birch Kuch's session yesterday afternoon at the Old Crow Airport. I love the grin on Birch's face when the phone rings and how they both react to it at the end of the song.

If you'd like to hear more Old Crow fiddle music (and some Kate Weekes originals) it behooves you to check out Home Sweet Home, which features Keitha Clark and Allan's nephew Boyd Benjamin playing a whole slew of toe-tapping fiddle tunes from the Old Crow repertoire.

Hey diddle diddle!

2011-06-11T10:36:00.002-07:00

Allan Benjamin is a poet, artist, snowshoer, Ranger, and fiddler in Old Crow, Yukon. Yukoners will recognize his "Didee and Didoo" column from What's Up Yukon. The other day, he and Birch Kuch (an amazing clarinetist) got together in the Community Airport Radio Station at the Old Crow Airport to play a couple of tunes.

Old Crow has a long history of fiddling and dancing and the community still turns out every couple of months for a big dance. Every fiddler has their own style and interpretation of the songs. Some of the songs have extra beats that can take other musicians by surprise. This song, Double Jig, is only known by a few fiddlers and Allan hopes that by posting in to youtube, others will be inspired to learn it.

Crow Mountain Revisited

2011-06-09T13:47:00.000-07:00

I first walked up Crow Mountain in May 2009. It was a great hike and I have long wanted to repeat the trip. As luck would have it, I'm in Old Crow again for work and had a little time in the evening for a hike. This time I was joined by Heather, who also wanted to hike up the mountain.

Most of the trip takes place along a gravel road that leads up to a quarry on the side of the mountain. The road is popular with Old Crow residents and it's not unusual to run into someone heading up or down the mountain. On our walk, we were passed by a 4-wheeler. They were taking their dog for a walk. And by "walk", I mean that the dog was full-out sprinting up the mountain and loving every minute of it. At the top, they turned around to head back down and the dog was still sprinting. When the 4-wheeler stopped to talk with us, the dog ran around excitedly, never flagging for an instant.

Any idea what this verdant little plant is?

Old Crow is a fly-in community. It is tremendously expensive to build a winter road, so it only gets built every so many years. It has been seven years now since the last winter road. The equipment in the quarry is rented. Believe it or not, so I'm told, it makes more financial sense to pay the daily rental rate on the equipment and have it sitting there for several years than it does to purchase it outright or pay for the cost of the winter road.

It's a short growing season above the tree line and many of the plants are in bloom. I was really impressed with the blueberry plants, which are already flowering even though the leaves are barely out (not pictured below).

Crow Mountain is on one of the migration routes of the porcupine caribou herd. Caribou antlers litter the slopes.

The scale of the land is difficult to take in. Distant mountains are over a hundred kilometres away. In the picture below, you can see my hiking companion off in the distance.

The wind was powerful on top of the mountain. It wasn't the kind of powerful wind that would allow you to stand at a 45^o angle or the kind of wind that would blow you right over, but it was powerful enough to blow my face into a smiling position.

The problem that I have with hiking in a place like this is that I always want to keep going. I look at Second Mountain and I want to go there in the worst way. Maybe one of these days I will. We'll just have to see.

There's something special about being able to see a panorama that goes on for hundreds of kilometres and knowing that, aside from a few, small, scattered camps, there is nothing but wilderness. I don't know how to describe it, but it's invigorating. It's exciting. It's good for my soul.

A Vulcan in Old Crow

2011-06-09T13:00:00.001-07:00

Derrick Kapuschak-Frost is one of the most ingenious furniture makers I've ever met. He uses recycled materials and items from the land to create gorgeous works of unique furniture art. I'm not going to post any pictures of his latest work in progress (a honeybucket "throne" fit for a king) but I will post this picture of his anvil.

A long, long time ago, this Vulcan anvil - which belonged to a man named Olsen - was brought up the west coast by steamer, around Alaska and through the Bering Sea, and then up the Yukon and Porcupine Rivers. It is said that Olsen could make anything. It is the source of inspiration for Derrick's company name, Olsen's WoodCraft, and also its logo.

If you're even in Old Crow, you can find Olsen's Woodcraft behind Yukon College's Alice Frost Campus near the Recycling Depot. It's really worth a visit just to see what Derrick has dreamed up next.

It's a tie.

2011-06-09T12:46:00.000-07:00

Back in April, in the same edition of the Yukon News, they announced their "Carrier of the Month". Twice. And it wasn't the same person.

That left me wondering who the "Carrier of the Month" really is. Is it Eloise? Ona?

Yukon News, if you're reading this, your readers demand a showdown. The carrier match of the century.

Bring it on.

To me it says "ALASKA!"

2011-06-09T11:54:00.000-07:00

During my brief visit to Anchorage, Alaska, I spent a night in a chain hotel. This particular chain hotel had a theme - but not a theme that I would naturally associate with Alaska.

You can book your meetings in the Safari room or the Kenya room.

Eschew the shoe

2011-06-09T11:46:00.000-07:00

I finally downloaded some of the pictures from my iPod. I took this one while walking through a wooded area near my neighbourhood this spring. I'd left the trails and was exploring a boggy area when I came across this shoe. I can only imagine why its owner would have left it behind.

The Neighbourhood Bike Gang

2011-06-09T11:36:00.000-07:00

It was too warm for leather jackets.

Cuteness

2011-06-09T11:21:00.000-07:00

Most of the sled dogs in Old Crow have been moved to their summer place. It seems like it would be a good place to have puppies.

It's a gas!

2011-06-09T11:17:00.000-07:00

I stopped by Chief Zzeh Gittlit school in Old Crow the other night and caught the final race of the CO₂ car rally. Students and community members made drag racing cars out of blocks of wood. There is a space at the back of each home-made car for a CO₂ cartridge. I won't get into how difficult it is to get CO₂ cartridges into a fly-in community (the cartridges are considered dangerous goods).

Here's a picture of the second-place winner. I didn't get a picture of the first-place winner. It was too fast.

Drumheller, Horse Thief Canyon, and Coal-mining History

2011-06-05T00:22:00.001-07:00

The day started wet, which was hardly ideal for my planned day of hiking around Drumheller.

The drive from Red Deer to Drumheller was pleasant though, especially with my detour to Dry Island Buffalo Jump Provincial Park and a brief but enjoyable drive into and out of the Red Deer River valley.

And then I got to Drumheller which - if you don't already know (for some strange reason) - is famous for dinosaurs.

I wasn't planning on going to the Royal Tyrrell Museum. I'd been there before. I wanted to go hiking, but the soaked bentonite (clay) made everything so slippery and sloppy that my hikes were mostly restricted to the gravel-covered trails.

In the end, I decided to go into the museum where I spent a few hours learning some amazing things about plants and creatures of old.

After the museum, I went exploring and came to the interpretive signage for Horsethief Canyon. The canyon got its name because - according to the interpretive signage - horses would wander in, only to come out a week later bearing a new brand. According to the traveldrumheller website, however, the canyon got its name for American horse thieves who used the canyon en route to horse buyers in Alberta.

Oh, how I wanted to hike down into the valley. Even though the sun had come out, the ground was still so slippery that walking was a precarious venture.

After my failed attempt to hike down into Horsethief Canyon I made my way back to Drumheller. I couldn't help but notice some bright red rock just off the side of the road. I pulled into a parking lot for an interpreted trail for an old coal mine. Walking the trail, I learned that the red rock is created by underground coal fires.

I took a different route back to Drumheller by way of the Bleriot Ferry.

I drove back to Red Deer in the glow of the evening sun. The overcast cloud had long been replaced by large tunderheads and scattered showers. I'd crammed as much sight-seeing as I could in one day - and it was a day well spent.

Dry Island Buffalo Jump

2011-06-04T23:40:00.000-07:00

At the end of a modest 20km gravel road in Central Alberta is, perhaps, one of the most incredible but little-known places in the world! The place has so many amazing aspects about it that it baffles me why there aren't streams of tour busses into the area.

Dry Island Buffalo Jump Provincial Park. Long ago, the Cree used to herd bison over the cliffs where they would then butcher the carcasses for food, hides, and tools. It is the most northerly known buffalo jump.

If we travel farther back in time, the area was riddled with dinosaurs. In fact, Dry Island Provincial Park contains the most important Albertosaurus bone bed in the world. Of course, the living dinosaurs are long-gone, but 150 different types of their winged ancestors have been spotted in the area.

Here's one of them.

The Red Deer River winds through the park, slowly cutting through epochs of earth. Exposed by the river and subsequent erosion are layers of river sediment from distant mountains, ancient bogs, volcanic ash, and ocean.

The park gets its name from a mesa - a large plateau of land 220m above the Red Deer River. It's called a "dry island" because it has never been surrounded by river. It was formed by a slow erosion process. The top of the mesa is unusual in that it retains virgin prairie grasses because it has never been developed by humans or used by livestock. They contain unique flora and fauna not otherwise found so far east of the Rocky Mountains in such large numbers.

Bentonite, ancient volcanic clay ash, is prolific - and when it gets wet it gets very, very slippery. This artistic patch of ground had a little more traction, fortunately, so I didn't wipe out as I was exploring its nooks and crannies.

I love badlands-type country. I love the sculptures created by wind and water moving over the earth.

And I love the little surprises - like this strange plant? fungus? growing in a juniper? plant. I saw several of these, always growing in the same type of plant. They seem to have some sort of symbiotic or parasitic relationship. Can anybody tell me what it is?

I walked down into the valley and strolled along the base of a cliff. A buffalo jump, perhaps? There are many locations in the area that could have worked for that purpose.

Working my way through one valley and up another, I was struck by how many bones there were - likely of a newer vintage than the days of the buffalo jumps and certainly of a newer vintage than the dinosaurs.

And then there were the bones of a more modern age...

Climbing a steep slope out of the valley, I looked back. People say the prairies are flat. The prairies aren't flat. Sure, the tops have been worn smooth by the glaciers of ice ages long past, but the prairies are anything but flat.

Back at the rental car, I made my way back down the gravel road and on to my next destination: Drumheller and all of its dinosaury awesomeness. At the end of the day though, I couldn't help but look back and think that I should have spent more time at Dry Island.

Such a cool place.

Free-range beef.

2011-06-04T16:23:00.000-07:00

At the end of May, the Whitehorse All-city Senior Concert Band took a trip to Red Deer. We were playing in a music festival at Red Deer College.

I have relatives in Red Deer and hadn't seen them in too many years (and I had yet to meet the latest crop), so I traveled separately from the band which allowed me to spend more time with them. I did take a day to indulge in a bit of exploring, though.

I maintain that the best way to drive through the prairies is to stick to the backroads. Not only is there less traffic, but the scenery is more interesting. Take this cow, for example. On a main road, you'd never see a cow chillin' on the wrong side of the fence. This is a backroad cow, where things are a little more relaxed.

"Yeah. I'm a rebel. I know it."

This is what the view might look like: A Yukon/Alaska border crossing

2011-06-04T16:13:00.000-07:00

Yukon and Alaska share a few border crossings. If you happen to be driving the Alaska Highway and reach the border around 22:00 MST on a late-May evening, this is what you might see...

And this is the what the view on the Canadian side might look like if you were to stick your head out my sunroof a few minutes after crossing the border.

Some super signage.

2011-06-04T16:05:00.000-07:00

On my way back from Anchorage to Whitehorse, I saw a couple of neat signs. The first was lying down on the job, but it cast a lovely rainbow on a patch of quickly-disappearing snow.

The second sign gave me a chuckle every time I saw it. Apparently, this is a sign for picnic tables that are about to be crushed by falling trees.

Chickaloon! Chickaloon! Chickaloon!

2011-06-04T15:42:00.002-07:00

Alaska has some pretty cool place names. One of my favourites is "Chickaloon", but in spite of what the title would this entry isn't about Chickaloon. It's about Matanuska. The Matanuska Glacier, to be precise.

I just like saying "Chickaloon". Sue me.

The Matanuska Glacier is the largest glacier accessible by car in the United States. I didn't go right up to the glacier (opting to save that for another trip, perhaps with the kids) but I stopped long enough to take a few pictures from the highway.

View Larger Map

To see just how accessible it is, if you look closely at the next picture you can see some vehicles and a building. There were a few homes and lots for sale in the area, so if you've ever dreamed of owning a home with a glacier out your back yard...

... near Chickaloon!

Shiny Creek.

2011-06-04T15:06:00.000-07:00

Shiny Creek isn't the real name of this creek. I can't remember what the real name is, but I can remember the strange bit of exposed rock that seemed to glow whether the slope was bathed in sunshine or blanketed in cloud-cast shadows.

I stopped there for lunch and took the opportunity to stretch my legs afterwards. While my stomach was satisfied, I left with a hunger of a different kind. I was hungry to know more about geology (an ongoing problem I seem to have).

The creek bed was coated in some sort of fine, shiny, silvery mineral. Many of the rocks were loaded with the stuff, too (not the picture of the rock following. I just thought it was a cool piece of quartz). The last picture really don't do it justice, unfortunately, but even the "sand" was shiny.

I will, forever more, call this creek "Shiny Creek".

From Delta Junction to Glenallen, Alaska

2011-06-04T14:55:00.001-07:00

The highway between Delta Junction and Glenallen, Alaska cuts right through a mountain range. It skirts broad, gravel riverbeds and alpine lakes. It winds by sheep-laden mountains and over caribou-dotted tundra, and through moose-infested forests. In short, it's a good drive.

Here are a few shots from one tiny section of the trip, not far past Delta Junction.

Put that in your pipe and... move it 800 miles.

2011-06-04T14:38:00.002-07:00

After my week in Beaver Creek, I took the opportunity to drive to Anchorage. I wanted to get some repairs done on my vehicle and it was more cost-effective to travel to Anchorage (since I was halfway there anyway) to do the repairs than it was to do them in Whitehorse or Edmonton.

On account of a missed turn (which I blame on a lousy map) and my own distraction (which I blame on the great scenery), I took a scenic detour through Delta Junction. Although it added 200 miles to my drive, it was a scenic 200 miles, so that was fine.

View Larger Map

What struck me about Alaska is how much more populated it is than the Yukon (by a factor of 20). Also, it has a big pipeline.

The Trans-Alaska Pipeline is one of the world's largest pipeline systems. It is the economic aorta of the state and, apparently, attracts tens of thousands of tourists on pipeline tourism trips every year. Go figure.

Before the trip: "But I don't wanna go to Disneyland! I wanna go see a big pipeline!"
After the trip: "Yup. It's a big pipeline, alright. What did I do when I got there? Well, I just stood there and looked at it. Most rewarding experience of my life, I reckon. Waited my whole life to see it. Yup. Hope to go back and just stand there and look at it some more, someday."

The pipeline is mostly above-ground because of the difficulties that arise from burying a pipeline in permafrost. Of course, having it above ground means that the pipeline becomes somewhat of an impediment to wildlife - and has also become a target for
"sharp" shooters who like to fire their guns at 800-mile-long targets. They've installed nifty temperature moderators for dealing with the permafrost in selected sections of the pipeline (like here, where the pipeline goes underground just long enough to allow for a road crossing), and the pipeline is reportedly resistant to most types of bullets, but I'm not aware of anything that has been effective for preventing drunken target practice sessions.

What surprised me most about the pipeline (other than how much it dominates the landscape - even though there are massive snow-capped mountains nearby where I saw it) was how noisy it was! I had no idea.

What will the future of the Trans-Alaska Pipeline be? I don't know, but it will run out of oil eventually - and with tens of thousands of tourists traveling to see it every year, I think there might be some potential for high-speed passenger transportation capsules (mail tube-style). I'd totally pay to experience that - assuming they find a way to stop the idiots from using the pipeline for target practice.

What the Zamboni?!

2011-06-04T13:13:00.000-07:00

I saw this in Beaver Creek. I'm not sure what it is. At first I thought it could be an old zamboni, but it seems to be missing a few parts (like a driver's seat and a steering wheel and the assembly at the back). Also, it looks like it has some sort of arm for being towed.

Care to weigh in?

Birds on a Wire

2011-05-21T10:43:00.000-07:00

There are a dozen-or-so swallows that hang around just outside my hotel room here in Beaver Creek. I think they're a mix of tree swallows and violet-green swallows. Whatever they are, they've definitely got personality.

"Oh, yeah. I'm cool. I know it."

"Oooh! Ooooh! Itchy!"

"Ha ha! Real cool. Flea-infested loser!"

"You're one to talk! You can't even keep your breast feathers from flopping out all over the place!"

"Eek!" (Groom, groom, groom.)

"Sorry..."

"Hey! How you doin'?"

"Kiss my tail feathers, slimeball!"

"This is all so embarrassing..."

"It doesn't matter how colourful I am, nobody seems to notice me..."

"Oh, I see you Mountains. You think you can intimidate me? You think you're all big and mighty and that I'm just a little bird, but I can fly right over you. Tony Robins tells me I can and I will. Whaddaya think of that, huh? Whaddaya think of that!"

An Extra-Special Anniversary

2011-05-17T16:19:00.000-07:00

Today is an extra-special day. To the best of our knowledge, for exactly one year, Jade has been seizure-free.

In the immortal words of Kermit the Frog...