The Caribou Mountains near Carcross, Yukon. Photo by Christa Galloway
This image is actually five photos, stitched together in Photoshop. Technology can be a double-edged sword sometimes but I can't imagine I ever would have been able to stitch these five images together in the darkroom. In Lightroom however, I just choose "merge to panorama in Photoshop" and Bob's your uncle. Well, in my case, Bob is actually my dad. Hi, Dad!
We drove in and out of clouds on the Klondike highway, on our way to Carcross. This was shot through the car window, by the time I got outside, the clouds and light had changed and the shot was gone. Photo by Christa Galloway.
We left for Skagway this morning, passports at the ready, keen to see one of our most frequently visited ports from cruise ship days and in good spirits. The light was beautiful as we drove in and out of the frozen fog. We stopped every few minutes to take photos.
The sun shining through trees on the Klondike Highway. Photo by Christa Galloway.
The mountains near Carcross, Yukon. Photo by Christa Galloway.
During one of our frequent stops we noticed a burning smell coming from the car. Rich did an excellent impression of someone who knows about cars and declared a coolant line had split. We were both tempted to take our chances and carry on to Skagway, but the thought of being stranded in an American port during the off-season did not appeal. We decided the sensible thing to do was to turn around, but since we were only a few miles from Carcross, we decided to go that far, at least.
If I'd half hoped we'd run into a random mechanic in Carcross who would merrily fix our car and we'd be on our way, I was destined to be disappointed. I'm not sure if it was because it was a Sunday, or because it was off-season, but Carcross seemed like a ghost town. The photographer in me was delighted by the spooky village and I rushed around taking photos, my footsteps, the only sounds.
Carcross at the White Pass and Yukon Railway bridge. Photo by Christa Galloway.
Carcross Visitor Information with a closed sign in the window and a spooky boat in the background.
This is the caribou statue at the entrance to the turn-off into Carcross. We passed by the turn-off on the first drive-by but decided to check it out on the way back. I've since noticed that the statue normally has a sign with a huge arrow underneath it, pointing to Carcross. I guess in the winter you need to either know where you are going, or be adventurous to find it. Photo by Christa Galloway.
After our self-guided tour of Carcross, we headed back home and I contented myself with taking pictures in our own backyard.
Next week-end, to Skagway!
Cool sunset in the woods from our walk yesterday.
I am proud to say that as of today we are officially members of the Lorne Mountain Community Centre! Rich was even a volunteer at the 2014 Carbon Hill Sled Dog & Skijor Race. He was the man with the stick doing the timing for the 10 mile dog sled race. He had the power to launch a team of energetic huskies with the wave of his wand.
Richard counting down the start for a dog sled team.
I was on Oscar duty. Keeping him close by I was able to take some shots near the start. It was great to see the frenzy the dogs were in, raring to go. One dog in particular seemed to effortlessly levitate himself.
A dog team just before they set off on a 10 mile race.
I could have photographed these dogs all day, but Oscar spotted some other kids playing and wanted to join in. Since he hadn't had much chance to play with other kids since we moved out to the boonies, motherly love won out over the love of photography and we joined the fun. Some of the kids Oscar was playing with were francophone, and although they were speaking different languages, they all seemed to understand each other just fine. I got to practise ma francais un peu.
Oscar climbing the snow hill at Lorne Mountain Community Centre. At one point he stood wobbling at the top of the hill, jumped in the air as high as he could, and slid down to the sound of gasps from onlookers.
In between mountain climbing and playing, Ozzie took snack breaks. His snack of choice, snow of course.
A tasty treat.
All in all it was a great day. We came back in the afternoon for the Arctic char supper and awards. We met lots of friendly locals and we're really starting to feel part of the community. As we keep hearing, "You either love it here, or you hate it." And we love it.
A dog sled racer at the 2014 Carbon Hill Sled Dog & Skijor Race.
I've been urged not to stop posting these sunrise and sunset pictures by my much-appreciated fans. So here is another one, taken tonight. I really could take a picture of a stunning sunrise or sunset every day and they would all look different from each other.
We were heading out for a walk this afternoon and I saw this sunset over Lorne Mountain before I even took a step out the door so I ran in to grab my camera. The rest of the walk didn't disappoint either. Photo by Christa Galloway
At any given point during the last few days, if you've seen me talking to myself, I was most likely answering potential job interview questions, often ending with a shaking of the head and a muttered "No, don't say that ya dummy."
My big interview with Air North was this morning. I'd researched Air North, flight attendant blogs, interview question sites and even called up my cousin Katherine, who is a flight attendant. Basically I put to use my photojournalism training.
The was a saying in my journalism class at college, "Never ask a question you don't already know the answer to." I was hoping I would know all the answers to my prospective employers questions. I was also hoping the preparation would prevent me from a) imitating a robot b) telling inappropriate jokes and giggling c) shaking and weeping.
I spent the 30 minute car ride asking myself more questions while simultaneously reminding myself "smile, don't slouch, relax, be yourself, don't say that." I pulled in to Air North's slush laden parking lot, navigating around chunks of snow the size of small glaciers, feeling grateful for our 4Runner, Fi, who didn't take much notice. I looked at the time, I was 40 minutes early.
20 minutes of Candy Crush later, I couldn't take it anymore and I slowly headed towards the building, trying to find a path where I wasn't stepping in ankle deep slush and cold water. The howling wind took a fancy to my jacket and tried to whip to off me while making a hash of my carefully coifed hairdo. After a brief tug of war with the front door, I burst into the building dripping water, jacket half off, hair awry and tried to unobtrusively straighten myself.
Next, I had a photo taken by the receptionist. This would also be my ID photo if I was hired. My mantra of "smile and relax" was replaced by "smile, chin out, 45 degree angle" so after the photo all that remained of my mantra was "Smile!" At this I could feel my smile becoming stiff and grimace-like.
Here is the problem with getting to an interview early. I had a good 20 minutes in the waiting room, psyching myself out. "Be natural!" I scolded myself. I tried for the most natural yet professional pose I could muster in the waiting room chair. Jacket on my lap, no, no, jacket on the chair, jacket on my arm... legs crossed, legs not crossed. I may have ended up looking a bit like a contortionist, I'm not sure.
I tried to remember some of the preparation of the past few days but all I could call up was the name Krista, the contact name on the ad. I remembered this using a brilliant pneumonic mental device, and also, my name is Christa.
A professional smart-looking woman came down the stairs and with an outstretched hand and a smile on her face said, "Christa?"
"Krista, Christa," I said, in an epic brain fart. While I was giving myself a mental slap on the forehead, she gave me a queer look and introduced herself with a name I can not remember because I was to busy with my mental slap but I think it was Debra and I know it was definitely not Krista.
I proceeded to make things worse by trying to explain my earlier not-so-clever comment as we made our way up the stairs, down corridors and around corners. The door opened and I was confronted with a large conference table and two other interviewers. One of whom was Krista, duh.
The questions began. I remembered to smile three or four times but every time I checked I was slouching so I snapped myself upright. In hindsight I probably looked like I was dancing, I think "krumping" is what the kids nowadays would call it. That or having small seizures.
Aside from the grimacing and krumping my preparation did come in handy for the actual questions and I think I did okay. I didn't completely bomb anyway. They seemed happy that I already understood the nature of the job from my interview with Katherine and there were quite a few similarities to my job on a cruise ship. I answered the questions clearly and gave specific examples, I was totally prepared to be away for a week at a time, have odd hours and be on call and I had the family support to do this. I believe they were also happy that I'd done my homework and I managed to relate a few tidbits Katherine had told me.
When they asked me to give an example of great customer service I hit a complete brain block. All I could think of was the wedding I shot six hours away from home three weeks after giving birth. I'm pretty sure that doesn't apply to the world of air travel but it was all I could think of so I told it anyway. At one point they asked if I would be okay leaving my family for a week at a time I answered, "No problem at all, I love my son but I just spent two weeks at home with him and a week away would be great!" Thank goodness I wasn't interviewing for mother of the year.
My drive home was a little bit like the next day after having too much to drink, I kept wincing as I remembered stupid stuff I said.
All and all it wasn't perfect but it wasn't anywhere near the disaster that was my Princess Cruises interview, and I got that job! Now, I wait and hope my Aunt Nonie's angels come through for me.
Moonrise, Jan 11, 2014, Fuji X-Pro 1, photo by Christa Galloway
This photo was taken shortly after we moved in. On clear days I see the moon on north side at dusk and on the south side in the morning. The moon has become full since this picture was taken and is now waning again. It's taken so long to get this up because I left the card reader for this camera in Ontario along with our potato masher and the beaters for my hand mixer. Gosh darn it.
We were looking through house rental and apartment ads before we left for Whitehorse and we saw this...
“Country residential suite available on the Annie Lake Road. Top floor of log house, 3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, wood heat, 950 sq ft, washer/dryer, pet friendly, deck, garden, greenhouse, great views, on school bus route, very cozy and charming. ”
And I saw nice, nice, nice, GARDEN, GREENHOUSE and pretty much missed the stuff about bus routes and views.
I had resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn't have a garden again until we bought a house. Before I left our old house I'd said a tearful good-bye to my vegetable garden, my St. John's wort, my cherry tree, my calendula and echinacea, my raspberry and blackberry bushes, my parsley, sage, rosemary, (and I really want to say thyme here but I didn't have any) and basil. I resisted the urge to uproot every plant and bring them with us.
If I wasn't a writer, a photographer, or an aspiring flight attendant, I think I would be a botanist or a herbalist. I make herbal creams, salves, soaps and herbal treatments. I love to harvest my own vegetables. So I guess I kind of had my heart set on this place since before we saw it. Once we got to Whitehorse and viewed the expensive, run-down trailer, the basement apartment and the pet-friendly house with painted plywood floors, this log home really shone and we signed the papers as soon as possible.
Now, not only do I get a garden, but a greenhouse. Woot woot. Okay, so we're in zone 0, maybe zone 1, the conditions are challenging, but still. I've started composting and reading The Year-Round Vegetable Gardener by Niki Jabbour, which Rich got me for Christmas in a spurt of foresight. I've checked out some local articles online about the challenges of gardening in the Yukon.
According to an article in the Yukon News, people who have had gardens in northern Alberta and Saskatchewan have trouble making it work in the Yukon. It took me a few years to get a successful garden going in Southern Ontario, so this should be interesting.
“I am now tasked with a different type of writing as I tweak my resume to convince To Whom It May Concern that I am someone perfectly suited to be a flight attendant, just in case my writing career does not take off.”
My writing career has not taken off but my writing skills seem to have paid off. The cover letter and resume I dropped of at Air North for the position of flight attendant at least got me an interview. The big day is Jan 24. If I get this job, the road north will take to the sky. Air North flies from Whitehorse to Dawson City, Inuvik, Fairbanks, and a place called Old Crow among other destinations. I would love to have an opportunity to visit these places.
There are many many upsides to living in the boonies. Ozzie and I saw a moose wander across a field through my window just this morning. But there are downsides as well. Namely, not having a car and the fact there are no neighbours, so no other kids around. If I had a good job I would be able to buy a car and put Oscar in daycare. I do love living here but I would love it a lot more if I could leave at will and if Oscar could play with other kids.
Our cabin in the boonies.
Here's the hitch. I suck at interviews. Ian Johnson of Princess Cruises once told me he almost didn't hire me based on my interview, and I was an awesome employee. I ended up working on cruise ships seven years, being assistant manager and many of the templates I designed are still in use.
If I could write the answers to the interview questions I might be okay although I looked it up and I'm pretty sure it's bad form to do so at the actual interview. A few beers might help but again, beer breath is bad form, and possibly slurring my words wouldn't help my cause.
To be fair, my last interview was 13 years ago, so I might be much better at interviews. Equally I could be much worse at it. I guess I will find out in four days.
Often when we look out the window it is sunrise or sunset. That or it's dark. It's one of the benefits of very short days. Lately, every sunrise and sunset is spectacular and I am getting my camera out more often than not. This was the sunset yesterday. Photo by Christa Galloway.
Today we went to Cool Dogs and Hot Springs, a dog sled and skijoring race in the Yukon Brewing Twister Series 2014 held at the Takini Hot Springs. As you may know if you follow this blog, our landlords, the Sheepways, compete in dog sledding and skijoring. Our little piece of paradise is also home to Stardog Kennels and we sometimes see Darryl and Katherine Sheepway take off on practise runs from our living room window, often after dark with only a headlamp to light the way. We might see them more If we had any living room furniture.
We're not stalkers, honest, it's just really cool to watch. If they played bridge in their spare time we wouldn't watch them at all, I'm sure. Maybe if it was Monopoly or Yatzee, but definitely not bridge.
From what I've heard, Katherine is very successful at skijoring which is like dog sledding, but with cross country skis instead of a sled, and I think at least slightly more crazy. When Darryl told us about the race today, we thought it would be a great way to spend a Saturday and an opportunity to get some unique photos as well.
Katherine Sheepway competing in the Cool Dogs - Hot Springs race at Takini Hot Springs today with what we affectionately refer to as "our dogs" although we've only known them for about a week.
"Our dogs" were very well behaved and seemed to be alert and eager to run. Before Darryl competed in the dog sled race he carefully checked all the dogs paws and applied wax and booties where necessary.
Most of the spectators were photographers like us, except for someone named Hans-Marcus who had a small entourage and even a banner.
Oscar enjoyed the racing but mostly I think he liked eating snow. At one point he declared, "Snow is my favourite food!" We let him have the buffet of his dreams while steering him towards pristine snow.
The day we drove from Watson Lake to Whitehorse we passed through the small village of Teslin, home of the longest bridge on the Alaska highway.
The longest bridge on the Alaska highway in Teslin, Yukon.
I have since learned that of the approximately 450 people who live in Teslin, I know two of them. Or I used to.
About 20 years ago, my parents were friends with Brenda and Richard Oziewicz. Brenda was technically my boss when I worked at the local library as a teenager. We lost touch sometime after the Oziewiczes moved to Whitehorse. Before we left, my parents tried finding their contact information but had no luck. None of us remembered how to spell their name other than my mother's helpful "I think it has two zeds." When you type "I think it has two zeds" under name in an online directory I'm pretty sure it tells you to buzz off.
Last week I was looking though the Yukon publication, North of Ordinary and I was feeling somewhat dismayed at the high quality of photography and writing in the magazine. I was hoping to swoop in with my photojournalism background and take the Yukon by storm. Wouldn't you know there are quite a few great photographers up here. Darn. I flipped to an article about soap making, think maybe that would be the way to go (there are some great soap makers too) when the name Brenda Oziewicz popped out at me. Brenda had owned a soap making business.
Armed with the correct spelling of Oziewicz (yes, there are two zeds mom) I quickly looked up their phone number. After a few bouts of phone tag we connected and learned some more about the Yukon, heard about some great places to canoe and camp out of Teslin and we promised to get together the next time we were all in Whitehorse. They also reconnected with my parents. Now I know a total of two people in the Yukon and the north is not such a lonely place.
A nightscape with moonlight lighting the clouds. Photo by Christa Galloway.
I threw on my coat to take Maggie for a walk this morning and this is what I saw...
An impressive sunrise colours our backyard. Photo by Christa Galloway.
Needless to say, I encouraged Maggie to do her business quickly and popped inside to grab my camera. My camera was loaded up with a memory card and battery, perched on a tripod. That's just where I keep it now. I've given up putting it away because an hour later I'm getting it out again.
People complain about the lack of daylight during the winter here, but for a photographer it's not all bad. We love low light. At this time of year the "golden hour" last all day. Even at noon the sun is so low you can get some impressive images. Mid-summer might be a different story.
At long last we found the Mile 9 Dump, a.k.a. The Robinson Dump, a.k.a. The Mt. Lorne Dump, and also the location of the fabled Free Store. Rich had spotted it earlier on his commute and we went on a family visit to plunder it's treasure, visions of sofas bouncing in my head. I almost grabbed some cash on the the way out, and then I remembered, it's free.
It's also not as fantastic as I envisioned it.
You may not be surprised by this.
I guess I had a vision of a used but nice living room set, staged kind of like you might see at ikea, with a friendly free store manager to help us make our selections and hold our choices until we could get back with the trailer. Then he would kindly help us load it and make some suggestions for colourful accents.
It wasn't quite like that. There were no sofas. There were two pieces of furniture, a broken down desk of the plastic variety and a heavily chipped veneer drawer unit. Not the weathered solid wood gem that a little elbow grease could restore to it's former glory. Not the living room set that house guests would crow over and marvel at our cleverness for getting for free. Alas, I think it might take more than one trip to the free store, some kijiji trolling and hopefully some furniture clearance sales to make our place more comfortable.
If you have been following this blog you may remember that we saw bison on the Alaska Highway. You may also remember that I got out my "real" camera and took some photos. Now that I have my computer set up, I've downloaded the pictures. Here are a few teasers...
Here is a bison and a calf on the road. When they travel through the deep snow they leave huge trenches in their wake. I imagine the road is much less effort.
This is the bison that spooked Rich while it was looking in the window. The shadow on the bottom left is the car as started to zoom away just as I was framing the shot.
Its not every day you see a moose in your backyard, let alone a pair of them, and throw in some ravens for effect.
We got a call last night that there were a pair of moose near our deck. We missed them (it was after 5pm after all, so pretty much pitch black out) but we'd seen them strolling the yard earlier in the day. While making some snowshoe trails in the woods behind the property I saw highways and intersections of criss-crossing animal prints. We saw elk on the road the other day. It has it's downsides. We have to watch our golden retriever doesn't go far without us so the wolves don't get her. I've had dire warnings about the temperament of moose up here. According to local sources these moose are liable to charge if they don't like the look of you, they are bigger and more dangerous than our civilized Ontario moose.
I am about to take my son and dog snowshoeing. Well, I'll be snowshoeing, Oscar and Maggie haven't mastered it yet. I hope to see some wildlife... from a safe distance.
I didn’t have to drive there, I didn’t have to buy a season pass, or a day pass, I didn’t have to load and unload the car, I didn’t have to leave my dog at home. I just got my gear on and skied out the back door, Maggie in tow. Well, there was no towing involved, she bounded off ahead of me in glee and I only saw her occasionally when she came and checked in.
During the ups and down of this huge change in our lives I am learning something from our 3-year-old son Oscar. I’m learning to just f-ing embrace it. So we don’t have a couch. We can camp out on the bed and cuddle. Ozzie doesn’t have a “proper” bath but he is enjoying the heck out of bathing in a storage bin.
“No, this isn’t home… there is no white horse.”
