Wild Animals Invade Yellowknife

I've been looking for an excuse to post this photo taken on a side street in downtown Yellowknife. It's a powerful and textured mural. Real muskox may not be roaming the city; however, black bears are definitely becoming urban creatures. A bear was spotted on Frame Lake trail on Friday. When wildlife officers arrived, they saw two bears swimming in the lake. The next day a bear was found eating garbage in front of a house near a residential street--not far from my exit to the CBC. That's like seeing a bear on one of the streets near the Halifax Common or around High Park in Toronto. Another bear sighting was reported today near the Explorer Hotel and later at Niven Lake, that other trail with the fancy houses. This one wisely ran off to the ski club when wildlife officers approached. The other one near Frame Lake returned to eat more garbage and, so, it was shot, standard practice around here when a bear shows a lack of fear of people. The good news is that despite this apparent invasion of black bears, no one has been hurt--or even charged.

My entries are probably going to be random as I begin my countdown to departure on Sept. 8th and look for ways to post some of the gazillion photos I've taken. These are the sled dogs, kept by Aggie and Terry, who I've written lots about, including their indoor dog, Magic. They also keep a team of sled dogs which they use to get to their cabin in the winter. My 'hook' for using this photo now is a news item on Northbeat tonight about the challenges of Nunavut dog mushers competing in the NWT. Their dogs, which have bigger fur, have difficulty adjusting to the warmer climate (it's all relative) and to the softer snow here. The trainers have to come two months early to acclimatize the dogs. And the style is quite different: in Nunavut the riders lie down on their stomachs, but they must learn to stand to compete in the NWT. During the interview on TV tonight, the woman had a tiny husky puppy on her lap that whined until she stuffed it inside her sweater.

One of today's highlights was a conversation with Mabel English, the Gwich'in host of Nantaii.

She calls from time to time from Inuvik and today she asked what will happen to all those interviews she's done over the years. As I've posted before, Mabel is 70 and will retire in November. She wants to see those interviews with elders put on CD so their stories and the language are preserved. And, she suggested, the CBC could "give back" to the people. In the course of our chat, she told me about an interview she did at a fish camp this week with people who trap and use just what they need--"no fancy stuff". That led Mabel to recall her life growing up, when they'd pick a barrel of berries, burying some in a birch bark tray to preserve them for Christmas to share with her mother's sisters.

I'm learning to appreciate random.

Snow, Suds or ....?

The fluffy white stuff is foam on Frame Lake, whipped up by the wind. As I walked to work this morning, there were whitecaps on the lake and bits of foam tumbled across the trail. It's the second time I've seen this foam. It isn't pollution, as far as I can tell. Most foaming of lakes is a natural process, created when the surface tension of the water is reduced and the air is mixed in, forming bubbles. Decomposing algae releases cellular products into the water, which lessens the surface tension even more--and voila, sudsy white foam. However, swimming isn't allowed in this lake, for reasons I have yet to learn. Maybe the foam is, indeed, evil.

A Day on the Trail

Together Bronwyn and I ventured even further along the Ingraham Trail than I've been so far.

We made it to Reid Lake, the last park, but the second last stop on the 70 km long road. There's a short hike past the campground -a loop - or so the park guy said. Faded and tattered ribbons occasionally marked the trail across rock and through the stubby trees.








When we got to a point at the lake where we were supposed to hang left and circle back, we were stymied and, so we took the road back to the park. The beach at the lake is sandy and very sloped. I found the water to be about the same temperature as at Long Lake, but the big city girl accustomed to 30 plus degrees Celsius wasn't inclined to go for a swim so I swam solo.

Afterwards, we were headed for Cameron Falls but by mistake ended up at the Cameron River Ramparts Waterfalls, between Hidden Lake where the big falls are located and Reid Lake.










It's a short hike into these falls and apparently you can hike along the river here to a footbridge to the other side.

Bronwyn snapped a shot of a ptarmigan in the bush here but he was even better camouflaged than I am in the hiking shot above. I've cropped the heck out of the photo in an effort to make him visible.

Lastly, here are Thea and Ghost, two cuties hanging out at the beach. Thea is a Lhaso Apso and Ghost is a Samoyed. Bronwyn, who much prefers cats to dogs, covets this particular breed: She imagines herself in a white linen suit in a white convertible with such an impressive white dog. Her handler would take care of the messy duties associated with owning a large animal.

Labrador Tea and Books

I'm quite sure this is Labrador Tea: there's a sign for it on the trail. The leather leaves, according to the sign, conserve vital nutrients, including water. It's a staple ingredient for aboriginal medications, including insect repellants. And it's use as a tea was probably introduced by Hudson Bay Company officials--or so states this sign.

I took this photo a few weeks ago along the Frame Lake Trail; the flowers are no longer in bloom. Last night I was finishing "Here I Sit" by Rene Fumoleau, who came to the north in 1953 as an Oblate priest. He has chronicled Dene life in poems, stories, photographs and films. Last night, I came upon this poem, called "Muskeg Tea". It's about how the Dene never order anyone to do anything. You don't hear a parent say "Do this...". Instead, a mother might say: "There's not much water left in the barrel." Here's an excerpt from the poem:

The youngest child was about four/She led her own life, wandering freely in and out of the house and in the bush nearby./One afternoon, the little girl walked in, holding a few twigs of muskeg tea which she presented to her mother./Muskeg tea or Labrador tea, is a wild bush with narrow leaves./It is prepared like regular tea, or mixed with tea to add a special flavour./It was the first time that the little girl contribured anything to the family./The mother received the twigs with reverence and she thanked her daughter, calmly, but with such joy and pride./I felt priviliged to witness the deep feelings flowing between mother and child.

I've started a new section on my blog: On the left hand side there's a list of books I'm reading while in Yk. My fave so far is Thomas King's "A Short History of Indians in Canada".

After the Storm

We had an amazing light and picture show last night, with a thunderstorm at 3 a.m. that made many a dog "wiggy" and woke up their masters. Heavy rain, loud thunder and lightning joined forces that resulted in yet another power outage. For the first time since I arrived, my suite was in total darkness. A combination of the rain-laden skies and lack of illumination from neon signs outside and digital clocks inside prevented any light from penetrating the rooms. I've become so accustomed to nights that never get beyond twilight, that it was a shock to navigate in the dark.

Fortunately, the power returned in time for morning coffee. I had to take a taxi to work because of the heavy rainfall, but happily I returned home via the Frame Lake Trail. And here's a family--actually it looks like a couple of families of ducks I came across. This photo is super-zoomed so the quality isn't terrific, but there are about 12 baby ducks in this grouping.

The Beach at Long Lake

I had my first swim of the summer today, and it was glorious. The water at Long Lake is definitely warmer than either the Atlantic Ocean or the Minas Basin. The beach is unsupervised, but there's a buoyed off area for little kids, and it's very shallow even well beyond the buoys. It was a perfect afternoon, with the temperature in the mid-twenties and the sun moving in and out behind the clouds.

Throughout the weekend a beach volleyball tournament was going on, with several nets set up across the beach. However, there was still plenty of room for sunbathers and castle builders. This one, with its wildflowers and feather decoration, had the name Castle Desiree etched in the sand.

I met a woman from Cambridge Bay, slowly making her way into the water, when I was getting out. She said she's been swimming in the lakes further north, which are warm because of the intensity of the sun up there, even though the air temps aren't as high as in Yellowknife.

Turns out she lived in Yellowknife when I did in the late 70's, and helped get the Wild Cafe going. Married to an Inuk, she's an artist and consultant in Inuktitut. We had a grand old yak, standing in the water.
I'm getting to be a master at striking up conversations with strangers. This weekend I was on my own--and other than phone calls to the family--it was me, myself and Susan. So, if I don't want to talk to myself, I have to find people to chat up!

Great Slave Pike Fishing

Within five minutes of casting, Carsten caught his first pike while fishing on Great Slave Lake today. I sent him out on guided boat trip with Yellowknife Outdoor Adventures. Carlos took him and two retirees, a rancher from Colorado and a fireman from Chicago for a four-hour fishing trip this afternoon.

Carsten had to walk down to the public dock in Old Town (an hour) to board the small outboard for the four-hour expedition. This 28-inch pike is the first of seven he caught. They went far out in the lake, which I just learned is the 7th largest in Canada. They stopped at reedy spots along the shores of various islands, where Carlos has had luck in the past.

The last fish Carsten caught was the biggest catch of the day: 41 1/2 inches and 18 1/2 pounds. All the fish were thrown back into the water.

Note from Carsten: Pike put up quite a fight, and it's definitely a challenge to get them in the boat.

Whose Emblem is it Anyway?

When a stylized design of the Inukshuk was chosen as the official emblem for the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, some Inuit leaders were upset. They objected to the appropriation of an icon that has for so long served as a commemorative marker or guide for travellers in the north. However, the Inukshuk is ubiquitous, appearing commercially in everything from tacky key chains to expensive earrings. Many dot the landscape (across the country) wherever rocks and people come together.

This Inukshuk has been cemented together on the Niven Lake trail, the last of the city trails I've walked. Located at the edge of the city, the trail around a small lake is now the site of the most recent upscale subdivision, where doublewide modular homes cost $350,000 and million dollar avant-garde homes rise out of the boulders.

The local newspaper recently reported that some homeowners have been illegally cutting through the bush to create their own trails to the lake. It's important not to mess with the environment here because it's a large peat plateau, which runs a metre above the lake. Several miles below are pollen and other preserved plants from thousands of years ago, along with large ancient "lenses" of ice that never melt, thanks to the insulation of the peat. (Source: a marker on the trail.)

Despite the intrusion of development, Niven Lake is teaming with life. This muskrat swam by, as I stood at the edge, and the air is filled with the sounds of red-winged blackbirds, shorebirds and all kinds of ducks. I watched a tiny duckling swim next to a parent, while the other adult duck scooted into the reeds, returning with small fish it popped into the youngster's mouth.

Fortunately, a breeze kept away the bugs that would usually make this marshy environment a mosquito mecca.

Tomorrow: part 2 about the Niven Lake development-- more photos to show the range of housing, which I find fascinating in this city.

Smoke in the Air

The 53 forest fires burning in the NWT so far this year aren't considered out of the usual. None is near a community. Today Yellowknife was enveloped in a smokey haze, and the smell seeped inside buildings. But the smoke came from two fires burning in Wood Buffalo National Park, and these fires have been burning since May. Tonight, thankfully, the air is clearer. Apparently in 1998, a haze of smoke covered the city for the entire summer.

Here's a reminder of home: wild roses are everywhere--in subdivisions, along the trails and these ones were on the island that I canoed to on the weekend.

The Spirit Bear

Okay, I know, I'm a little obsessed with bears in this blog. But the Bear Report happens to be one of the best items shaping up on the morning show. Actually, we had a contest to rename the segment and, henceforth, it will be called "Creature Feature". We needed a broader title to include other animals.

This week, a regional government biologist made the news when he said a white bear had been photographed by a helicoper pilot north of Yellowknife. Look hard to see it between two black bears. It is neither a polar bear nor an albino. It's a Kermode Bear, more commonly seen in B.C.

White bears are sacred to the Dene people and, so, they're known as "Spirit Bears". Scientists are still trying to find the gene that causes the white coat.
We were careful not to reveal the exact location of the Kermode Bear siting because the last time news was spread about the "Grolar Bear"--half grizzly, half polar--an American hunter came up and shot it.

The tinkling of candle ice

It may be warm and sunny here in Yellowknife, but in points north people are still in parkas and the ice is still breaking up.
Today we played the most amazing bit of audio on the radio --the tinkling sound of candle ice. As the ice melts on rivers and lakes across the NWT, it turns into thousands of candle-shaped pieces that make music when they're jostled by the wind or waves. It sounds like a wind chime. This phenom happens only two or three days a year, and our reporter in Inuvik has tried to get this sound for years. He was finally successful.

On a less joyful note, these posters are all over the Frame Lake trail. Of course, I immediately thought of Spetse, the Yorkie who accompanied me to Yellowknife all those years ago. I do wonder sometimes how she survived the cold and ravens. (I occasionally let her out to pee unattended during a party.) I despair for this 7-pound terrior's chances of survival, given the number of foxes I've seen. The last one had a hefty animal in his jaws, the entrails dragging on the ground.

Dogs are very popular in Yellowknife: they come in all shapes and sizes--from toy terriers to huskies. Free bags are stashed in boxes on the trail to encourage owners to clean up after their pets.

Peek-a-boo with the Stick Man

See that little blue sign on the Jack pine? Well, it's just as hard to spot while negotiating the Prelude Nature Trail. It's an hour hike and took me close to two as I kept backtracking, in search of the stick man.

The trail is a big loop that starts off in rock and bush, climbing eventually above the lake. But there's no obvious path most of the time; mostly, you're scrambling over rock or lichen. What was particularly scary is that when I couldn't find the stick man and went to head back to the next one, he was lurking behind the tree and not visible from the other side. At one point I was going to turn around to head back, but realized it would be impossible to retrace my steps.


At times, the sign is quite visible, but the direction is open to interpretation. I thought I should go right here, because it's about a 12 foot drop-off in front. However, after searching fruitlessly for the stick man's clones, I discovered that yes, indeed, the idea was to head straight down.

If there were any spruce or ruffled grouse or whiskey-jacks, I didn't see them because I was too occupied with finding my way.

But I did stop to read the interpretative signs and learned that the densely packed pine cones are covered in resin, just waiting for a fire. The heat melts the resin, allowing the seeds to disperse and the pines to get a leg up in reproducing themselves. The clusters of cones look like fossilized slugs, wrapped around the branches.
The branches close to the ground send roots into the soil as another way of reproducing in a far from womb-like environment.

Before I set out on the trail, I checked in at the office, which is why I wasn't too worried about getting lost. I figured if the attendant saw my car sitting in the lot tonight he might search for me. When I asked about bears, he said 'no problem'--and then casually mentioned that a lynx had been spotted at another lake closer to Yellowknife, and much more in the open.

Prelude Lake is 29 km from Yellowknife on the Ingraham Trail, on a paved road that is 65 km
long with all kinds of picnic spots, boat launches and campgrounds along the way. The road is dotted with pot holes and loose gravel: Dust envelops the car when another vehicle passes you. Cracked windshields are as common on vehicles here as bird poop is on windshields at home.

Standing with the Enemy

Grizzly's are cute when they're stuffed. This guy at the Visitor's Centre looks friendly compared to the wolverine and fox, which are posed in the act of devouring birds.

I'm taking a break during the second day of our regional leaders' meetings. Leadership competencies, behavioural interviewing--this is the stuff we're talking about. Believe it or not, I'm enjoying these sessions and learning so much about both management and leadership.

And we played another team building game that involved putting stickers on our foreheads that indicated how others were supposed to treat us during an exercise to come up with a solution to a problem. We didn't know what our particular label said, but it didn't take long to figure it out. One person was designated as the leader who must be obeyed; the others had such labels as "ignore me", "interrupt me" or "laugh at me". During the cash game, groups of 3 were given two five dollar bills. We had five minutes to figure out who should get the money. If we didn't decide, it would be forfeited. None of us fought over the money, because the stakes weren't high enough. In our group, we decided the two women should get it.

For dinner, we all went to the Wild Cat Cafe--I've been there more than most people who live in Yellowknife! I had the special of the day-- pickerel, with a garden green salad and rhubarb crumble for dessert. Jeff Gardiner, who heads up IT here, says he has tons of rhubarb and I can come over to pick some. Yahoo--I've been missing my spring hit of rhubarb.

Back to the bears: Apparently, the black variety have been known to wander the more ungroomed portion of Frame Lake Trail, where I walked on Sunday. It's been suggested I get some kind of Bear flare--you let it off and it should scare him or her into running away. But you have to make sure not to let the flare hit the bear because that pisses them off.

Better than Breadcrumbs

Yellowknife has an ambiguous attitude towards its trails: they're well publicized in all the pamphlets, but try and find the entry points and it's a game of hide and seek. Tonight I was determined to walk the trail at Range Lake, the one I couldn't find the other night.

I'd been told I could get on it behind the Shell station (such is the juxtaposition of commercialism and nature in this city). When I couldn't find the entry point, I wandered about the subdivisions around the lake and, by chance, found a path to the lake. As I climbed the boulders, these painted footprints appeared, clearly essential to navigating around the trail. But just as I made this discovery, it started to rain. The weather is even more changeable than in Nova Scotia: it can be sunny one minute and rain the next and back to sunny again.


Another phenom the north seems to share with the east is power outages. For no apparent reason the power went off while I was watching Northbeat, which is why I headed out on the walk. And, also like home, the Power Corp here is asking for rate increases. Some people in the communities pay a horrific amount for electricity. But that apparently doesn't stop them from frivolity.

On my way to the trail, I came across this Inukshuk, planted in a garden and all decked out for Christmas.




I lunched today with Harmen Meinders, the news producer here, and one of many King's grads at the station. We went to A Taste of Saigon, one of two Vietnamese restaurants in town. It has an extensive menu, from "Sliced Well Done and Sliced Rare Beef Noodle Soup" to "Steamed Rice with Fried Seasoned Quails". I had the Vermicelli with Charbroiled Lemongrass Chicken Breast and felt as though I was back in Halifax on one of my Let's Do Lunch ventures for Information Morning.

A City of Contrasts

Trailers are a common type of housing in Yellowknife, and some now fetch a quarter of a million dollars. Many morph into houses, with additions either above, below or beside the original mobile home.
This looks like two houses, but an addition, complete with arched window, has been added at the back. Rows of these trailers, modified or not, co-exist with newer housing. Just around the corner from this place is a crescent with such monster homes as the one below.

Both homes are located in the Range Lake area, near where I'm staying in the 'burbs. It's at the opposite end of Old Town where I find the architecture far more interesting. But I will say this: every house is different in the suburbs here.

There's definitely no cookie cutter approach: row housing, trailers and giant single family homes co-exist. The home to the left backs onto Range Lake.

I went in search of the trail that goes around Range Lake, but could only find an entry point between two houses.
It's so weird because the lake is right behind Tim Horton's, Mark's Work Wearhouse, PetroCan, etc. Once you leave the strip, it's very peaceful. Yellowknife is clearly a city of sharp contrasts.

A Sunday Stroll

Every Sunday morning back home I go on a two-hour walk along the railway cut in Brooklyn with my good friends Hazel and Kathy. So this morning I decided to continue the tradition on my own: I got on the Frame Lake Trail and continued to walk past my usual exit to get to the CBC.

The trail bypasses residential areas, peacefully separating the downtown for the lake.
Loons nest on this smaller lake and fish on the bigger lakes. I heard and saw one as I was coming back. Carved out by a glacier, the lake is acidic from the rock and, so, doesn't support much plant life. However, bullrushes, cattails and sedges rim the edges. I met cyclists, joggers, parents with strollers and the occasional soul wandering about in an alcoholic haze.

I went as far as the Prince of Wales Northern Heritage Centre which opened when I worked here oh so long ago. Indeed, I met the Prince himself and wrote a commentary for radio about what I considered to be all the fuss and bother.

One of the reporters who worked with me on News of the North, Alison, was escorted out because she crossed the line in order to get a photo. She said she was more scared of me and what I'd say if she didn't get a good picture!

The centre marks about halfway around the trail. The path is paved to this point, and soon after it's more rugged. Instead of continuing on the circle, for some reason I headed back in the same direction. There's always next Sunday.