Riverdale

When our family first arrived in Whitehorse in January 2014, we took a look at the neighbourhoods in a town guide. There was Porter Creek, Copper Ridge, Hillcrest, Hidden Valley and Riverdale, amongst others.

“I want to live here,” I announced, pointing at Riverdale.

The main reason for this declaration was that I am a huge geek and the name Riverdale was close enough to Middle Earth’s Rivendell to make me want to live there. If I could live anywhere, real or imagined, Rivendell would be the place.

Another reason was that I saw that Riverdale had it’s own place, community centre and grocery store, making it like it’s own little small town away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

We didn’t move there that January, but here we are a year later, living in Riverdale. Plus I now work for the company that makes those very same guides. Who'd a thunk it.

Riverdale, Whitehorse, Yukon in the winter from Grey Mountain Road. December 2014 Photo by Christa Galloway. — Riverdale, Whitehorse, Yukon in the winter from Grey Mountain Road. December 2014 *Photo by Christa Galloway*.

There are no elves gracefully patrolling the woods with bows and arrows, but it’s pretty darn magical here. Sometimes we get a great winter ice fog coming off the river, glinting in the low sun. Our protected little valley gets very little wind, so the trees tend to stay adorned with snow much of the time.

Our street is Pelly Road. It’s a quiet street with very little traffic. Looking out my front window I can imagine Oscar playing in the yard and visiting the neighbour’s trampoline with few worries. Our back yard opens onto the green belt, forest, trails and mountains.

Riverdale does have it’s dark side. Connected to Whitehorse by one bridge, the weekday commuter traffic in Riverdale can be a pain, by which I mean my commute can take 30min instead of 15min. This is why I start work at 8am, I pretty much miss the traffic completely. I know, city life eh.

A Tangent about my street, Pelly Road: The name Pelly also graces a crossing, a formation, lakes, mountains and a river, all of which were named in honour of Sir John Henry Pelly who was governor of Hudson’s Bay Company almost two centuries ago. It’s also a nickname for a pelican in Roald Dahl’s “The Giraffe and the Pelly and Me,” a thoughtful housewarming present for Oscar from family in the UK.

Grey Mountain Hike

The view from Grey Mountain. Photo by Christa Galloway.

We took a little hike on boxing day. This spot on Grey Mountain Road is not far from where we live is about a 15 min drive and a 30 min walk from where we live in Riverdale. If we were a little more ballsy we could have actually driven to this spot but there was a few inches of fresh snow on the road and we were warned by hikers that the road gets narrow and difficult the higher up you go. We ended up parking and doing the rest of the road on foot. As we were walking, a station wagon careened up the hill. Where the snow got deep we could see where the undercarriage of the car had left tracks in the snow and we came across it later, almost at the top where the road ends at the cell tower. The next time do this hike we will see if Fi can make it all the way up, then we'll take the trail across the top of the mountain.

Boxing Day

It’s been a year.

Dec 26, 2013 was the day our family embarked on a nine-day trip, 6000 kms west and north, to an uncertain future in the Yukon.

The move was a long time coming, but the 26th was the day we made the leap.

Since then, we’ve changed careers, provinces and dwellings a few times including a memorable but not-to-be-repeated month living in a tent. We’ve been hopeful, scared, triumphant and desolate.

Now, our future has a clarity we couldn’t have imagined a year ago. It looks like we’re going to be gainfully employed, productive members of society. Thankfully, it seems we landed on our feet.

For me, boxing day will always be the day everything changed. It’s a day to take your life in your own hands, take responsibility for your own existence, realize your own power to change your life… and leap.

So, from me to you, happy boxing day.

The winter solstice - North of 60

The sun in Riverdale, Whitehorse, Yukon at 12:03pm (it's there on the bottom right). Photo by Christa Galloway.

It is noon and the sun is a dim presence barely seen through a gap in the trees. It is the winter solstice, the shortest day in the northern hemisphere.

This time of year the sun appears to grow heavy as it struggles to rise about the tree tops. It determinedly holds it position until early afternoon when it gratefully sinks back to warmer climes.

In Whitehorse, Yukon, the winter solstice means a mere 5 hours and 37 minutes of daylight. Here in Riverdale, an area of Whitehorse surrounded by mountains and thick evergreen forest, much of the light during this time resembles a dim blue ethereal glow more than sunlight as we know it. When the sun is at it's height, at times it illuminates the tree tops with a brief shaft of sunlight, before dipping behind another tree.

Today is the tipping point. Tomorrow the days will start getting longer. From now on I will notice on some unconscious level that the mornings are earlier, the sunset is later and the sun reaches higher in the sky. The air will seem lighter. I will appreciate the sun’s warming glow all the more for it’s previous absence.

Tonight, the longest night, is also a new moon. This will probably be the longest, darkest night of my 37 years of existence. In Whitehorse the sun will set at 3:47pm and will not rise until 10:10am. This year, for me, the longest night is a dying, a death of an old life. Part of me mourns for past dreams as I let them go, part of me celebrates a new life, new dreams.

This solstice, my life has reached a tipping point. We’ve had a lot of struggles, but I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. I’m slowly starting to feel more confident in my new job. The long process of getting Richard certified to teach in Canada is almost over and he has just received his transcript from the University of Alberta. We are back in Yukon, the place we know we want to call home and we are stronger now, having faced the long winter. Now we can enjoy a long summer knowing we can face whatever future winters may throw at us.

And in the Galloway household, we have another reason to celebrate, aside from our bright future... it’s my half birthday. :)

This is what happened after four days in a car with my mother

My parents are always there for me when I need them. So when I was facing a four-day drive from Alberta to Yukon hauling a trailer with no company other than my four-year-old son, my mother volunteered to fly out to Red Deer and make the journey with me.

Her slogan for the trip was “It will either be a bonding experience or it would make a great movie.” My mom with a clever slogan is like a dog with a bone and I think I heard that phrase a few hundred times since she thought of it.

Repeating herself is one of mom’s habits that has evolved throughout my life. Actually, her habits don’t evolve so much as my reaction to her habits does.

For example, when my mom has often instructed me to put the ice cream in the microwave or the popcorn in the fridge. When questioned about it she will always respond, “Oh, you know what I mean.” As a teenager, this was exasperating, as a college graduate it was mildly amusing and as an adult, somehow it’s transformed into being downright endearing.

I used to constantly tell my mother, “you already told me that” when she repeated a story. After a while I gave up, and politely listened to the story again and again, eventually even enjoying the embellishments and exaggerations added over time. Now, if my mom didn’t repeat myself, I would be convinced she’d been taken over by aliens and was, in fact, not my mom at all. This could quite possibly ignite an alien conspiracy theory, or, just as likely, end up with me in a nuthouse. So it’s just as well mom’s habits have never changed.

As you may have discerned, my history with my mother has not always been rosy. Fundamentally, I have always loved and been loved by my parents, but we’ve had our rocky times. We will always have to agree to disagree on some issues. So, when I heard my mom’s slogan for the first time, I shared the sentiment. It could be a lovely road trip where we reconnect and bond without the distractions of the other people in our lives, or it could be material for a darker, more extreme version of the movie “The Guilt Trip” with Seth Rogan and Barbra Streisand, and quite possibly not with a happy ending.

I know you’re waiting in suspense to hear the outcome of this experiment in mother-daughter relations. Is there a suspicious mound in my backyard while my mother hasn’t been heard from in weeks? Did we fight the first day and endure the rest of the trip in excruciating stoney silence? Did we arrive in Whitehorse black and blue after duking it out?

I’m afraid it’s a slightly more boring yet also more meaningful outcome. We talked, we bonded and we didn’t even listen to one of my audio books. I was even able to get several words in edgewise after the first eight hours of driving. (I’m only partially kidding.) Day two brought forth confessions from my mother about how hurt and angry my parents were when we left Ontario for Yukon. On day three mom dipped a toe in the Liard Hot Springs, was awed by Muncho lake and was treated to sightings of moose, bison, caribou and even big horn sheep. By day four she realized we were where we were supposed to be and we were best friends.

My mother dipping her toe in the Liard hot Springs, November 2014.

For me, this journey I had been incredibly stressed about turned out to be an amazing experience. On day one, after a nine-hour drive with the help and support of my mother, I realized I am capable of much more than I thought I was. On day two I understood more about my parents than I had before. By day three, I looked around at the beauty of the north and the feeling of peace returned and knew I was where I was supposed to be. On day four, I felt closer to my mom than I had in a long time.

Oscar also got the chance to bond with his Gran. They were fast friends. At the hot springs Oscar played tour guide and pulled Gran from one sight to the other, relishing his captive audience. I stayed back and enjoyed watching them explore the trail hand in hand.

Gran and grandson, hand in hand on the trail at Liard Hot Springs, November 2014.

I feel like this trip has cemented a bond that will last a very very long time. Yesterday, I called my mom and told her about my difficulties being alone and starting a new job and in a few minutes she had convinced me it was all perfectly normal and would be all right.

So many little things had to come together for this trip to ever happen, it’s not hard to believe that fate, or a higher power had a hand in it. I’m very grateful I had the opportunity to experience the world’s most boring movie plot, and yet an incredibly meaningful experience with my mother.

Now I have audiobooks to listen to. :)

A good-bye message for my husband

I’m leaving my husband.

The day after Richard's birthday on Sunday, I’m taking all of our stuff and heading 2000 kilometres north.

I’m going to miss him like crazy. (Did I mention it's only for a month?)

My husband is my rock. And I’m his rock. We are like two rocks on either side of a teeter totter, balancing each other. When he worried, I’m reassuring. When I’m upset, he’s comforting. Most of the time we’re both pretty level and because of each other we never fall off.

Richard has been there for me in every step of my journey for the last 14 years. He’s helped to prop me up when my confidence has faltered, giving the strength to do the things I’ve done. Together we’ve had an impossibly rich past and we’re looking forward to an equally fulfilling future.

Rich has stepped up in so many ways. He took a job as a part-time bus driver when our business was struggling and at this very moment he is working on getting certified as a teacher in Canada so we can have a stable future. He steps up, but more than that, he’s always positive about it. Since he started teaching again, he has found a deep joy in the profession and has enthusiastically thrown himself into work.

Our relationship is not perfect by any means. We argue like everyone else. Also, he tends to abandon his shoes at the front door instead of putting them away which is infuriating. I’m sure I have also some annoying traits, although I struggle at this moment to think of any. Despite the shoe abandoning, I will always love Richard for many reasons, but two of his fundamental characteristics stand out.

One, he is a genuinely good person. This impression is what drew me to him when we got together after I got over disliking him for criticizing my lab cleaning skills. He really, truly cares about people. And he’s interested in them.

When we were photographing weddings he cared about each and every couple and regularly went above ad beyond. It wasn’t a sales technique, or brown-nosing, it was just his way.

Two, he believes the best of people. I tend to be on the more cynical side of the scale, looking for an ulterior motive. Rich gives people the benefit of the doubt. The downside is that he is constantly falling for telemarketing schemes and door-to-door salesmen. This is why we paid $500 to improve our rankings on Google (didn’t work) and why we changed to a more expensive electricity company. But I wouldn’t change him for all the tea in China.

Over time, his faith in people has rubbed off on me and I’m richer for it. Instead of spending my time waiting for the other shoe to drop, I can just enjoy life. When I find myself bracing for a shower of shoes, I’ve got Rich to gently encourage me to look up at the clear skies.

Not to mention he's a great father, teacher, partner, driver, cook, dog-owner, he's fun, strong, goofy, loving, hard-working... the list goes on.

So I’m leaving my husband and I’ll miss him, but I don’t feel sad. At the risk of being completely sappy (I figure at this point I’m about 90% covered in sap) I know our bond will not be affected by mere kilometres. And my foyer will be so tidy.

Taking the road north... again

Almost a year after my original move to Yukon, I find myself preparing for almost the same journey. This trip will be shorter but the route from Edmonton to Whitehorse is the same. I'm packing up all our belongings that I feel like I just unpacked. In addition I'm making a list of emergency supplies to bring in case of any mishaps on the remote northern roads including sleeping bags, candles, a first aid kit, camp saw, shovel and warm clothing.

This time I don't have my very capable husband to take care of most of the driving (he's a professional driver) so I've conscripted my mother to come along and help with moral support, child entertaining and trailer maneuvering. If she wasn't coming, I'd be much more worried about the four-day journey.

The light at the end of the tunnel is the new apartment waiting for us, a new job and hopefully several years in one place. In this last year I've changed provinces three times, this trip will make four. Finally, the plans we made when we decided to leave our business 18 months ago will come to fruition. Rich will be a certified teacher and I even got a job in my field. What's more, we've found the place we want to call home in the Yukon.

Now that the culmination of our plans is fast approaching I feel a bit like an evil villain stroking a black cat and cackling about how at last my happylifenator as almost complete. Except that I'm fairly sure I'm not evil. And I'm more of a dog person.

Permission to be happy

Oscar at Pine Lake, Yukon. Photo by Christa Galloway. — Oscar at Pine Lake, Yukon. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

I’ve been thinking about happiness lately. I’m starting to think long term happiness is not something I need to try to achieve through success or things or even experiences. I wonder if it’s something I could just let myself be.

Heading north

We want to hire you.

I stared at those words. My jaw dropped. The email was regarding a graphic design job that I had applied for at a publishing company in the Yukon.

We want to hire you.

It didn’t seem real. If this was a Hollywood movie I would have given myself an exaggerated pinch to make sure it wasn’t a dream. As it was I just stared at those five words on the screen, eyes narrowed, unable to completely quash the suspicion that they were about disappear at any moment. They remained.

This was going to change my life.

Gradually I became aware that my computer was ringing. It was my mother on Skype. Shortly afterwards my future employer called. From there, plans began to take their shape. The idea of those five words quickly exploded into reality and fragmented into hundreds of details.

The last week has been a flurry of preparations; car shopping, apartment shopping, plane ticket purchases, daycare arrangements, road trip preparation and packing. My mother will fly out and join Oscar and I for the four-day journey on remote, snow-covered roads and Richard will drive up after his teaching practise. The more details that get ironed out, the more real it feels.

When I think back to the odd series of events that brought us to the Yukon almost a year ago I feel like fate showed us the place we belong.

We’re going home.

On the road again

Nine months ago our family went on a journey by car from Ontario to the Yukon. Recently we embarked on another road trip, this time throughout the Yukon and south to Alberta. On August 16 we packed our 5'X8' trailer with all of our belongings (well, not all of them, what didn't fit we either sold or gave away) and camping gear and we set off.

A pond off Canol Road near Ross River, Yukon.

Day 1, Aug 16 : Canol Road : Whitehorse to Lapie Canyon - This was a long day. The Canol Road is so riddled with potholes that our maximum speed was about 50 km/h. We were planning on camping at one of the Quiet Lake sites but we decided to continue on to Lapie Canyon. The Canol Road started off a little boring, but as we neared Ross River it became spectacular. Unfortunately by the time we got to the scenic part, it was past 9pm and the light was dim. We arrived at about 10:30pm and had to use our headlights to set up camp. The site was gorgeous but we didn't spend much time there and headed out early the next morning.

Day 2, Aug 17 : Robert Campbell Highway & Klondike Highway & Dempster Highway : Lapie Canyon to Tombstone National Park - It was a relief to be on paved roads again and the kilometres passed quickly. We stopped in at Faro and learned a bit about the project to clean up the aftermath of the mining operation there (basically making busy work for people cleaning an unclean able mess).

Oscar on the Grizzly Trail at Tombstone National Park.

The drive to Tombstone National Park on the Dempster Highway was gorgeous, but once we got to the campground we realized it was a long week-end in the Yukon and all the sites were taken. We found a site reserved for groups that could be used for overflow camping after 8pm so we decided to wait it out. In the meantime, I took Ozzie and Maggie on a hike. We ended up staying in the overflow site which was fortunate because it had a huge covered area and it rained until we left the next day.

The Palace Grand Theatre in Dawson, Yukon.

Day 3, Aug 18 : Top of the World Highway & Taylor Highway : Tombstone National Park to West Fork Campground (somewhere between Chicken and Tok) - We set out early in the rain and stopped in Dawson for some lunch at my favourite Dawson restaurant, Triple Js. After hyping it up to Rich, they actually forgot about our order, although when it arrived it was delicious and they didn't charge us for our whole order. We wandered around town a bit. All of us loved Dawson and we filed it away as one of those places we would be happy to live in. We took a short, free ferry ride across the Yukon river and prepared ourselves for the wonders of the Top of the World Highway. And we saw.... nothing. Unless you consider featureless white something. We travelled the entire scenic route in a pea soup fog which didn't lift until we crossed into Alaska.

The "view" from the Top of the World Highway.

After the traditional border guard grumpiness we enjoyed our drive on until we found a lovely place to camp at the West Fork campground for a mere ten bucks featuring a majestic view of the Fortymile River.

West Fork of the Fortymile River, Alaska.

Day 4, Aug 19 : Alaska Highway : West Fork to Haines Junction - After leaving our little paradise in West Fork we took a slight detour to Tok. Much of the highway was on flats with mountains in the distance. It was less majestic than Canol road but interesting in it's own way.

In Tok, we indulged in some good ol' American tourist shopping including some overpriced snacks, Alaska travel mugs and, of course, heaps of fudge. On slight sugar high we motored on to the Canadian border where we encountered yet another grumpy border guard. This time he almost turned us back because we had too much mud on our truck. To be fair, we did have a lot of mud on our truck, all from the Top of the World highway in Canada though. He grudgingly let us through saying, "If you were American, I'd 'ave turned you back.” Good to know. I have an unsubstantiated theory that border guards in remote location have been sent to "Alaska" as punishment for some infraction which may explain their crotchety demeanour.

Between Beaver Creek and Haines Junction, by far the best scenery was at the Kluane Lake, beautifully serene and an unusual shade of blue. Unfortunately I was driving (under the back-seat driver scrutiny of Richard) so I don't have any photos. We camped at the nearly-empty Pine Lake campground that night, and enjoyed having the beach to ourselves.

The evening sun on some trees (Pine trees, I would guess?) at Pine Lake, Yukon.

Oscar enjoying a peaceful morning at Pine Lake, Yukon.

Day 5, Aug 20 : Alaska Highway : Haines Junction to Rancheria - After a gorgeous morning enjoying Pine Lake, the wheels came off in Whitehorse. Literally. We had the wheels taken off our car by our old neighbour and mechanic Rick so we could get all of the mud off with a wire brush. Rick's driveway ended up with a fine coating of End of the World Highway dust and we drove off with a functioning 4Runner. Then we picked up our trailer, said good-bye to Whitehorse and started retracing our route along the Alaska Highway we took in January. This time the surroundings were covered in green instead of snow and looked completely different. We drove towards the arch of a full rainbow for a good hour through the area around Teslin.

The bridge in Teslin (with bonus rainbow.)

Chasing a rainbow on the Alaska Highway near Teslin.

We set up camp late, at a slightly depressing government campground right off the Highway just before Watson Lake and went straight to bed.

Day 6, Aug 21 : Alaska Highway : Rancheria, YT to Liard Hot Springs, BC - We stopped at the sign forest in Watson Lake. Somehow, we'd completely missed it in January. Ozzie raced around the maze of road signs, municipality signs and licence plates. We didn't have too far to go to get to our next stop, Liard Hot Springs. The second largest Hot Springs in Canada, Liard was busy but beautiful. The hot water was delightful after 6 days with no shower. We were a bit disconcerted by an uninvited visitor watching us from the bank of the river but the bear just munched on foliage and left us alone. We decided on a quick dip the next morning instead of staying another day as planned. The worries about finding a place to live in Red Deer urged us forward.

Day 7, Aug 22 : Alaska Highway : Liard Hot Springs, BC to Fort Nelson, BC - We woke up an had an early morning dip in the hot springs. Everything was eerily still. The spiderwebs, invisible during the day, were coated from the morning mist and outlined by the sun. Feeling refreshed, we packed up and headed south. The drive through northern BC was beautiful but was sad to see the landscape slowly change from mountains to rolling hills. We camped at a nice site in Andy Bailey Regional Park where we had a path from our campsite to the lake. Oscar and Maggie got lots of frolicking in before the next big leg in our journey.

One of our last mountain views in Northern British Columbia.

Oscar and Maggie playing at Andy Bailey Regional Park.

Day 8, Aug 23 : Alaska Highway, Hwy 43 : Fort Nelson, BC to Valleyview, AB - Either the marketing department for Alberta Parks is rubbish, or they are trying to keep the location of their campground secret from outsiders, but a trip to Tourist Information in Grande Prairie was necessary to track down our next camping spot. Once there, they were very helpful pointing us towards a campground. The only detraction from the lovely Young Point campground was the dead fish on the shore of the lake and the dire warnings posted about the lake water. The cautions for coming into contact with this water reminded me of the warnings on darkroom chemicals from my college days. Basically flush with fresh water immediately. Pretty, though.

Day 9, Aug 24 : Valleyview, AB to Red Deer, AB : Hwy 43, 2 - As we approached our final destination our thought turned to the challenges ahead. The scenery pretty much went by unnoticed as we were occupied inside our own heads. The last 60 kilometres seemed to take an extraordinarily long time, but finally we arrived, safe and sound, at the Lions Campground in Red Deer.

We’ve completed another 9 day journey to change our lives. Will we end up staying here? I’m not so sure. The north just felt like home. Time will tell. All thing being equal, after four months, Rich will be certified to teach in Canada and we will be able to finally settle down.

The high baker

Cinnamon roll a la Derric. Photo by Christa Galloway. — Cinnamon roll a la Derric. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

A blast from the (recent) past

When I first started at Air North as a flight attendant, I heard about an aviation legend.

I was learning how to use the ovens to heat Air North’s signature delicious warm cookies. Flight attendants sometimes use these ovens to heat their meals. I used to admire my co-workers elaborate lasagnas, curries and soups, prepared by hand at home and re-heated to perfection in the on-board kitchen. I was more of a carrot sticks and sandwich lady myself.

Someone, I can’t remember who, said, “There is a flight attendant who bakes in these ovens.”

“Like, from scratch?” I asked.

“Yeah, bread, cinnamon rolls, all kinds of stuff. His name is Derric, you’ll probably never meet him though, he’s part time.”

Now, I’ve made bread, and cinnamon rolls, from scratch, in my home kitchen with all of the amenities available to me. Most of the time I can get a decent result, after a lot of practise, but I’ve had my fair share of rock hard cinnamon rolls and sunken bread. To get a nice result on an airplane at 37,000 feet? Impossible.

I would probably never meet this Derric because he doesn’t exist. It must be a flight attendant hazing ritual or a urban aviation legend.

I ended up working with Derric a lot during the busy summer season, and it’s all true. The man can make delicious, perfect cinnamon rolls, in an airplane. In fact, he made some the first time I ever worked with him.

Derric with his "legendary" cinnamon rolls. Photo by Christa Galloway. — Derric with his "legendary" cinnamon rolls. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

Keep in mind, we often start work at silly times, like 5:45am. Goodness know how early he had to wake up to make the dough, let it rise, pound it down, let it rise and so on before coming in to work. But it was worth it, the results were delicious.

This kind of thing was what made the job fun. Working with people like Derric, who weren’t just getting through the work day, but embracing it. When you do almost exactly the same thing, every day, a little fun and variety changes everything. The days I worked with flight attendants like Derric, I served passengers with a genuine smile on my face and a spring in my step. Fortunately for me, several flight attendants were fun to work with.

Baking at 37,000 feet. Photo by Christa Galloway. — Baking at 37,000 feet. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

If you are worried that our passengers were strapped their seats hungry and thirsty while we were merrily baking away in the back you can rest assured that the passengers were always, always looked after before we looked after ourselves. On busy flights we often didn’t have a chance to eat at all. And, of all the flight attendants, Derric is one of the most conscientious about making sure the passengers are treated well. He has cookie warming and seat belt crossing down to a science. Once, when we were delayed in Fairbanks for over an hour with passengers stuck on the plane he had us do a water service, food service and a drink service before take-off. Plus he sent us all in to chat with passengers, make them feel comfortable and help them any way we could. When those passengers left the plane back in Dawson, two hours later than they were expected, they thanked us and said it was a great flight.

It’s a pleasure to do a job when you can do it well and enjoy it. It wasn’t always like that, but when it was, I feel the passengers benefitted. Having happy employees who enjoy their job is an important and often overlooked aspect of good customer service. It’s a lesson I will take with me in whatever I do next.

Good-bye... and hello

It's the end of one of the most life-changing chapters of my life

Beautiful and heartbreaking, one of our last sunsets from the window of our home in the Hamlet of Mount Lorne. Photo by Christa Galloway. — Beautiful and heartbreaking, one of our last sunsets from the window of our home in the Hamlet of Mount Lorne. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

I came to the Yukon a different person than the one who is leaving now.

I'm a bit tougher. In the winter I've found myself saying, "it's only -20C, let's go skiing while it's warm," and in mid-August I've scraped the frost off my car before work.

I'm a bit spoiled. I used to admire photos of beautiful mountain landscapes, now I see one out my window every day.

On a personal level, I've changed drastically. Where I used to rely on my husband for everything from driving to grocery shopping to answering the phone, I am now used to getting myself around, going away on business trips and bringing home the bacon.

I like myself more than I did before. I'm more independent, less afraid and stronger.

Things that may not seem like a big deal to a lot of people but used to make me nervous, like arranging car insurance, driving long distances, or going away for a business trip by myself, don't faze me anymore. I answer the phone like a pro star. I can even do the looney thing in the shopping cart now, no problem.

The other day I realized that for the first time in 14 years, my friends are people I met independently of Richard. It occurred to me that they must actually like me because of me. Part of me always assumed people hung out with me because I came as a package with my charming, social and guileless husband and not for myself. I've taken a good hard look at myself and I think I'm actually moderately cool to hang out with, albeit in a awkward geeky way.

Now it's time to say good-bye to the place and the people that changed me so much. Yesterday I worked my last flight for Air North. I thought I would be relieved because it's been a very busy summer with few days off, but I was almost overcome with emotion. My two trainers happened to be there and announced to the passengers that this was my last flight. They said very nice things which had the effect of making me happy while at the same time turing beet red with embarrassment.

The people here are what I will miss most about the Yukon. There are the Air North flight attendants. Erin's quirky good nature, Angelica's vivaciousness, Jessica's toughness, Michael's kindness and energy, Wini's sense of humour, Susan's sassiness, Derek's in-flight baking skills, Sonja's enthusiasm... the list goes on and on. Then there are all the people who have helped us along the way, our neighbours, co-workers, teachers and friends. Maybe its the fresh northern air, or being away from the rest of the world, but Yukoners are a different type of people. Richard likens them to people from Yorkshire in England, they are a little tough at first but once you're accepted you see they have a heart of gold.

Soon, ironically, we will be on the road south. I'm excited for the future. My life will change drastically. For four months I will be a stay-at-home mom living in a city apartment with no vehicle, all new for me. This time, we do already have one friend near our new home, and we've already been invited for Christmas!

We visited Red Deer yesterday and absolutely loved it. We got a very good feeling from the area and everyone we spoke with was amazingly friendly and went out of their way to help us. Red Deer has many beautiful parks and trails, nice buildings and rolling hills... and conveniently there appears to be a liquor store at just about every street corner. Like Whitehorse, the winters will still be damn cold, so I'm in no danger of going soft.

Also, like Whitehorse, Red Deer would be a great pub name, so it totally fits.

An afternoon at Kookatsoon

Oscar at Kookatsoon Lake. Photo by Christa Galloway. — Oscar at Kookatsoon Lake. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

A funny thing happens when you have kids. Their joy is your joy, their wonder is your wonder and their discovery opens your eyes. That's why I love these afternoons. The ones where I get to experience the childhood joys of splashing, chasing fish and playing, all through my son. I need more days like these.

Oscar discovering what happens when he throws a cup of water in the air. The results of the experiment? A wet child and a lot of laughing. Photo by Christa Galloway. — Oscar discovering what happens when he throws a cup of water in the air. The results of the experiment? A wet child and a lot of laughing. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

It's a big world to explore up here in the Yukon, truly "larger than life." Photo by Christa Galloway. — It's a big world to explore up here in the Yukon, truly "larger than life." *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

A few random impressions of Fairbanks Alaska

In our brief stay in Fairbanks, my colleagues and I went for a stroll, had dinner at the northern most Thai restaurant (one of several we saw), indulged at the Fudge Pot, considered glow mini golf and went ten pin bowling. All in all a good time!

A beautiful Dawson morning

A view of the morning sun and low clouds  from the Westmark in Dawson. Photo by Christa Galloway. — A view of the morning sun and low clouds from the Westmark in Dawson. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

They grow up so fast

Our neighbourhood Grizzly bear family, the cubs are getting bigger. Photo by Christa Galloway. — Our neighbourhood Grizzly bear family, the cubs are getting bigger. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

I see our resident grizzly bear family every few weeks. It's neat to see the cubs growing up. You can see the difference between early spring and now if you check out my earlier blog post.

A timely rainbow

A rainbow appears over Mount Lorne after a heavy rain. Photo by Christa Galloway. — A rainbow appears over Mount Lorne after a heavy rain. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

Just as Rich and I were discussing our plans to move to Alberta, I looked out the window and saw this rainbow. I'm taking as a sign that we are on the right track although it's also sad to be leaving these view behind.

Adventures big and small

WARNING: This post contains sappy, lovey dovey, squishy and otherwise sentimental sentences which may cause fake vomit noises in some readers.

Nine years ago today, I married Richard. It was one of the best days of my life.

Richard and I sitting on the dock on our wedding day. Photo by Simon Furlong. — Richard and I sitting on the dock on our wedding day. *Photo by Simon Furlong.*

Our friends and family all got together on a hot sticky summer day at my Aunt Sue's house on Georgian Bay for a wedding with an outdoor ceremony and reception, a constant threat of rain and no tent.

Our wedding ceremony. Photo by Simon Furlong, friend and photographer.

We were lucky enough to have my Aunt Nonie and Eugene provide beautiful music and we were married by a family friend and minister, Ian Stuart. Rich and I promised to be together through adventures big and small.

Our wedding day. Photo by Simon Furlong. — Our wedding day. *Photo by Simon Furlong.*

The whole day was documented by our friend and photographer, Simon Furlong.

Post-wedding fireworks on the beach. Photo by Simon Furlong.

After the food, drink, speeches music and dancing, the official part of the day was capped off with fireworks. Although it threatened to rain all day, it stayed dry, but we did get wet. It might have had something to do with the open part but at some point several of of us decided a swim was in order. The best man, Shaun, used his Italian leather boots as water shoes (they came out remarkably unscathed). Some people opted for (much) less clothing. We discovered that trying to fit 16 people on a small raft was hilarious fun. Fortunately my Uncle Andrew was keeping an eye on us and providing flashlights for people coming in and out in the pitch dark. I was torn between worrying someone was going to get injured and having the best time of my life. In the end, I just went with it and I have never laughed so hard in my life.

You know it was a good time when the best man is passed out on the beach in his suit but inexplicably without a shirt. (Sorry Shaun, had to post this. Consider it payback for the wedding certificate incident.) Photo by Simon Furlong. (Kudos to Simon… — You know it was a good time when the best man is passed out on the beach in his suit but inexplicably without a shirt. (Sorry Shaun, had to post this. Consider it payback for the wedding certificate incident.) Photo by Simon Furlong. (Kudos to Simon for taking an in-focus photo at this time of the evening.)

In the nine years since that day, a lot has changed. Rich and I are now parents to a wonderful little boy, we've both changed careers twice, Richard's dad is no longer with us and is dearly missed and we've moved to a new territory. The adventures big and small proved to be an apt line in our self-written vows, we have had those aplenty. We are lucky that we are both the type to embrace those adventures.

I've learned a lot about my husband. Yes, he may like his tea prepared a certain way, but he is by no means a snob. One of my proudest moments was when he took a job as a bus driver when we were struggling financially. He is an amazing, hands-on father. He is also a talented teacher. The letter of reference he got from the principal of Jack Hulland Elementary School was the most glowing I have ever seen. Recently I learned what I always suspected, he is very smart. He has always disparaged his own intelligence but his 94% and recent 100% grade would prove otherwise.

Richard is an amazing, hands-on father. Photo by Christa Galloway. — Richard is an amazing, hands-on father. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

I've learned a lot about us as well. We provide each other support when we need it, a kick in the a** when it's necessary and love constantly. Rich has even turned around a bad situation by saying the exact wrong thing and making me laugh. When Rich has a dark cloud, I'm able to give him perspective. After a bad day at work, when my self-confidence has been deflated, Rich always reminds me that he and Oscar love me, and I have value.

Our family on a camping trip to Dyea. Photo by Christa Galloway. — Our family on a camping trip to Dyea. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

Our trials have often brought us together. We've been through illness, the loss of friends and family, financial and business struggles, a newborn baby and sleepless nights, moving and starting over. Yes, we've had our rocky times, but in the end we've come through it stronger. Together I know we can tackle anything, including our next move. A new province, university, apartment hunting and a job search lie ahead for us, but I know we can handle it.

Nine years ago I followed through on one of the best decisions I've ever made. I married my best friend. I look forward to all of our new adventures, big and small.

Happy Anniversary Richard, thanks for being you!

Trip to the Vancouver Aquarium

Oscar watching the beluga whales at the Vancouver Aquarium. Photo by Christa Galloway. — Oscar watching the beluga whales at the Vancouver Aquarium. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

Saturday our family got up at 4:45 am, travelled by car, plane, shuttle, taxi, train, bus and on foot to get to the Vancouver Aquarium.

When Oscar got to the hotel he was super impressed by the fish tanks in the lobby, so you can imagine his delight at the fish, frogs, whales, dolphins, otters, sea lions, sharks and jelly fish at the aquarium.

We were lucky enough to get to the dolphin aquarium and get a spot just as the show was starting. Unfortunately as the dolphins started their show and I was about to take a photo, all I saw through the viewfinder was the back of a tourist's head as he shoved in front of me. I can't say I saw much of dolphins, just the odd splash.

My favourite part was sitting ton a bench watching the beluga whales under water in Canada's Arctic Gallery. The relative quiet and serenity was a welcome break from the noise and pushy tourists topside. Oscar's awe at the graceful whales made me smile, but to me, it looked sad as it repeated the same slow lap again and again.

While Rich and I had some mixed feelings about our experience at the aquarium, for Oscar it was a day of unadulterated wonder and joy. He was still racing around in excitement, long after his parents were done, tired and trailing behind.

The midnight sun....set

Flying into Whitehorse at 12:30 this morning. Photo by Christa Galloway. — Flying into Whitehorse at 12:30 this morning. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

It may be getting darker but the sun is still setting at midnight.