Storyline: Dogsledding Nunavut Apr. 2000
Tuesday April 25, 2000—7:15 p.m.
What a day! Phew. If I came here looking for exercise, I certainly found it today. More of that in a minute.
After we settled last night…four across on the sleeping platform and one on the floor, I tossed and turned for quite a while and couldn’t settle…too hot and humid in the cabin. Part of the problem was that we didn’t notice at first that the vents under the high end of the sloping roof were not open while the stoves were on, so there wasn’t enough air exchange. Luckily, we didn’t get too much carbon monoxide. So I lay on top of the sleeping system for a couple of hours dressed only in my shorts. By 2:30 I had pulled on my foundation layer top and pants and crawled into the VBL (vapour barrier liner—a bag designed to keep perspiration from transferring to the down sleeping bag, robbing it of its insulating capability and making it heavier each day). At 5:30 I slid into the sleeping bag but didn’t zip up, and at 6:30 everyone began to stir, so we packed up the sleeping systems and dismantled the sleeping platform to give Denise room to start the stoves and prepare a hearty oatmeal breakfast (I’ve never been keen on oatmeal, but somehow it went down just fine that day). Then we went out to a beautiful, warm, sunny day with a deep blue sky and little or no wind. We packed the qomatiqs, harnessed the dogs and set off. Our intended destination was Emergency Shelter number 2 on the trail to Kimmirut. The first couple of minutes were pretty hairy, with fresh, excited dogs running down through the slalom of broken shore ice, Patricia and I doing our best to steer the qomatiq. We almost made it, but hooked a runner on a big hunk of ice. I had to lift the runner over the ice to get us back on the trail. Then we were off again. Or not. The dogs decided to mix it up, with adolescent Zazu as the instigator. We got that mess sorted out and headed out onto the sea ice. The sun was warm and the snow a little soft, but we glided down between ice walls about 8’ high, an indication that the tide was further in than when we arrived to 15’ high walls the previous day. All went well until the dogs just stopped and looked back at us. Nothing we did seemed to work. So we “downed” them, did a “ready…Hike!” and off we went.
After about an hour we stopped to talk about the next bit through the shore ice and about 1,000’ up a valley. Dog slalom through the shore ice again. Made it. Then one of Denise’s dogs broke its harness and we had an impromptu 15-minute break while it was fixed, after which the ascent really began. I was stripped down to my base layers plus wind pants, and was sweating up a storm. Steam rose from my clothes as we slogged ever upwards. I always huff and puff on uphills, even when I’m not loaded down. Now I was doing it while pushing and steering a loaded qomatiq. Sweat ran down my face and my chest was heaving. The dogs were a little unsure too, so Patricia went up to lead the dogs as I push/walked. We’d stopped and started every 10-15 metres as the dogs ran out of steam. We’d give them a breather, then haul back on the pituq and between almost breathless pants, would call what we hoped was encouragingly, “ready…HIKE, HIKE, HIKE”. At one point, a snowmobile-touring group passed us. It was so steep that one of the less powerful snowmobiles needed a tow from another sled. We finally made the height of land and toasted our success with hot water, peach juice and a lunch of salami, gorp (for the others – I can’t stand peanuts and have been told that I’m allergic), banana bread and dried fruit. The rest of the day was uneventful, except for the big descent. We were last qomatiq, and as we gathered speed going downhill, we saw that Shawn had had to stop because of a tangle. We braked hard behind, ending up with three traces under the qomatiq. Once we got sorted out, all was fine again, but I was running out of steam.
None too soon we reached our destination. We staked out and fed the dogs while the others made the shelter cozy. I was still warm and although the sky was now overcast, the temperature was still comfortable. So I lay back on a qomatiq. Naturally, the wind came up and I was immediately chilled, so I hopped into the hut. It was smaller than the NorthWinds cabin, with two 1½-width bench/sleeping platforms and room on the floor for two to sleep. Denise announced that she’d sleep out on a qomatiq, and before I could say “me too”, Patricia had volunteered.
We feasted again. This time on angel hair pasta with caribou sauce, followed by home made brownies. Denise and Patricia went out to cover the qomatiqs with a tarp. Shawn and Bob took the sleeping platforms, and I volunteered for the cooler floor. I was tired, and also a little headachy, needing to sleep off the day’s exertions. Bob brought in a thermometer from outside. It was -2°C: too warm by far! It was also snowing, it looked like we were in for a mushy day on the trail the next day.
Wednesday April 26 2000—6:30 p.m.
We were sitting in a warm double-walled tent after another busy day on the trail. It had snowed a couple of inches overnight and remained warm. So after a breakfast of granola (delicious), we had set up and hit the trail. We backtracked about 1km then took a haw (left) up into a valley that became a soft slog up a few hundred feet. We stopped twice to rest (us and the dogs) as we were push/walking most of the way in foot-deep soft snow. I even went up to my mid-thigh at one point. After the ascent, which was a tough way to start the day, things got easier, although the going was still slow.
We traveled along river valleys and across frozen lakes. At one point we were in the middle of a huge saucer. The rocks around the rim looked like clumps of brown sugar. We put on sunscreen when clouds gave way to higher, thinner layers. As we came down into the last valley, I was driving and Patricia was standing. In the flat light we were almost on a 6-foot vertical drop and rollout of a further 10’. I yelled back, “big drop” then flung myself back from my kneeling position to lying back on the qomatiq, like riding a bucking bronco, as we dropped over the lip then smoothly continued on. I stuck both thumbs up to the others who were ahead of us and had turned to watch. Shawn called “look back” and I looked, only to see Patricia pick herself up from the base of the drop and start jogging to catch up. We all had a laugh, as I had thought she was still with me, but she’d done a face plant down the drop.
A short while later we arrived at the campsite Armshow river valley where we would tent for the night in the. The tent was plenty roomy for five…more spacious than the emergency shelter and perhaps even larger than the NorthWinds cabin. The tent was a simple, floorless structure with a “T” of 2×4 lumber as the only solid part of the structure. The guy lines were tied to qomatiqs and to rocks, and the vertical walls were about 60cm high, with the peak about 2m above the snow.
After setting up camp, we went for a short hike up the hill behind us. The view would have been spectacular but for the flatness of the light. We did, however, see an Arctic Hare hopping among the rocks 50 metres in front of us.
We had two stoves burning: one for melting snow and one as a space heater. Dinner was sweet & sour chicken on rice.
I certainly hadn’t anticipated that we’d be pushing and walking as much as we did, but although I got tired on the trail, I was content to be back in the Arctic with a good group of travelling companions. Patricia was a CBC radio reporter. She was a fine partner on the trail, working hard so I wouldn’t feel that I was pulling all the weight. I admire her spirit. She was also recording our impressions of the trip and planned to put together a six-minute spot for cross-country broadcast (this did happen, and I have a cassette tape of it somewhere, but no means to digitize it). Shawn was tall, fit and laconic, with a quiet but good sense of humour. Bob was 63 (and I’m older than that now). Looked 10-15 years younger. He spent much of his life tripping. An experienced canoe paddler who had paddled most significant Yukon/NWT rivers, has been to AntArctica, and was previously on Baffin about five years before, paddling the Soper River on a trip outfitted by Shawn’s company. Denise was a good, calm leader. She knew what she was doing and did it well. Calmly encouraging and excellent when things went awry.
The conversation was now easier and we were talking about the performance and attitude of the dogs. We had traded lead dog with Shawn and Bob today. Heather was working well for us, but Ulu wasn’t cutting it on their team. So now we have Ulu and they have Heather. Ulu seems OK. Not as sweet as Heather and in a bit of a snit over her move. The dogs definitely had strong personalities!
Great post ?