Flavoured water is not a treat

Sam and I leave for America tomorrow night. We'll be in Indianapolis for the first week photographing the national FFA convention. More than 50,000 young kids will gather to share their FFA, er, goodness. I'm actually not sure what it's all about. ('This tastes like the cow got into an onion patch.') I just know that I have photo assignments every day for a week and then I get paid. I will scout the kids with blue blazers and shoot the crap out of them. The second week we'll be in Kansas City visiting Sam's family and friends. I'm looking forward to meeting these people that I've heard so much about. I am a little verklempt about going Outside. So much so that I actually considered shaving my legs and underarms just so I, you know, fit in. Naw. I think, on this trip anyway, telling people I live in Alaska gives me carte blanche to be kooky. And hairy.
Anyway, Rich and I took the dogs for a walk today in the five inches of fresh snow we got yesterday.
I'll update from the cities, but I don't know how often. I'm sure there will be lots of funny antics with the farmer kids...maybe not... we'll see.
Peace.

Strider.


Sister.


Sneaky Pete.

Capiche.


I call this one 'Snow on Grass.com'


Me and my best lead dog Capiche.

Watch out for the above-ground Burmese tiger trap...

The above was said by Johnson, who wasn't even trying to stifle his laughter, after I tripped over a web of logs in the driveway. It actually really hurt. But we got a whole heap of firewood cut up to surprise Sam who is away in Chalkyitsik covering the funeral and potlatch for a Native elder who died recently. I hooked up Gus and Bully to a log, you know, just for kicks to see if it would make hauling logs out of the woods any easier. It didn't, but was totally entertaining. Especially because Johnson pretty much had to carry the logs behind the dogs and when he put it down, Bully would turn around and give him a look until Johnson helped out again. Gus pretty much just peed on the logs, looked at me like 'yeah, right' and then took off as soon as I unhooked him. He got moved to chainsaw duty. (see photo below)
Anyway, it was good afternoon of me falling, wielding a chainsaw and stacking firewood with Johnson. I was going to run the dogs again today and try a two-on-one-off schedule, but a couple of the dogs are sore from yesterday's run so I'll give them a day off. I realized it's too early in the season to push them. I want this to be fun for everyone. Gus wasn't having fun with the team anymore because he has arthritis in both his wrists, so he's pretty much a free-range dog now. I'll try skijoring with him later in the winter but nothing too strenuous. I'd like him to be an indoor dog but he still pees on everything. ...I swear to god, as I was typing this I just heard a huge crash outside...it was Gus...he knocked over the goody box where I keep the dog biscuits...
Anyway, I've got one day to write a massive feature, so I better stop procrastinating....maybe I'll do the dishes first...
Peace.Bully pulling a rather small log up the hill to the driveway. Notice Johnson's foot...


Is that a smile?

Gus got demoted from log puller to sulky chainsawer...a second after I took this picture, he ran off with Johnson's ear protection on. Funny, funny stuff.

It's gettin' hot in here, so take off all your clothes

Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, we have a sauna!!! Yes, that's right. We scored a cute little wood sauna for free! Ahhh, memories of Finland come flooding back. It took a full day, and it's still on the trailer in our driveway, but we have a sauna! I am so stoked! (pun intended) Here's a couple of pics with more to come. I have to go run the dogs...and then maybe I'll come home and take, oh I don't know, a sauna!
Peace.

She ionizes and atomizes and then turns to sunlight

I bumped up the miles on the ole dog team today. We're doing about seven miles now. Still not much, I know, but they did so well today, the added distance and two steep climbs didn't faze them, so I'll bump them up to 10 miles on Saturday. Rich commented that they looked the best today out of all the runs so far. Hooray! I ran Capiche and Bully in lead out of the yard with the pups, Sneaky Pete and Parker, in swing, then Happy and Hitchcock, then Strider and Sister, and Hazel and Sally in wheel. Hitchcock is a maniac with boundless energy. All the dogs were perfect today. Near the end of the run, just for fun I put both pups in lead to see what would happen. I've run Pete in lead with Capiche before but never just the two pups. I ended up running in front of the team for a while, but as soon as I stopped, the pups turned around. I ended today's training session with Parker and Capiche up front.
We got a little more snow last night and it's stayed below freezing for about a week now. Winter is here and there's no going back. After the run, I let the dogs run loose back here at home before coming into the cabin. It's an almost-euphoric feeling coming in from the cold to a toasty cabin and a crackling fire. The dogs are crashed out in their houses waiting for dinner so I better go.
Peace.

Hoisted by my own petard

I've never considered myself a crafty person. Well, ok, maybe crafty in a mildly conniving sort of way, but not crafty in an I-make-crafts sort of way. Until now, that is.
Hanging around with Becky has opened my eyes to a world of cool, crafty projects. She makes clothes and curtains, does coolio bead-work and tiling projects and has taught me a few things. So now, on Wednesday nights, a group of girls get together for craft night, aka stitch-n-bitch. Last week I made a tile-mosaic piece with glass pieces I salvaged from the scrap-glass bin at a stained-glass shop. Earlier this summer, I made two tile tables with broken ceramic tiles and river rocks that I collected from our river trips. Tonight I'm making some peyote-stitch hair wraps for my dreads. I made one a few weeks ago, but would like to try some different designs and Becky is full of good ideas. Instead of buying into the whole spend-money, commercialization of Christmas this year, I'm making gifts. Whether it's a crafty project or a photograph I've taken or homemade smoked salmon, I'm not getting caught up in all the angst, panic, spending, etc of Christmas.
Peace.


Peyote-stitch hair wrap.
In my hair.

Mosaic tile piece.Mosaic tile tables one with river rocks, one without. I know they're both cracked, but it was my first attempt and the grout was too wet.

Happy Birthday, Gran!

Today is my Gran's birthday. I won't disclose how old she is, but she's got the spirit, sense of humour and wit of a 20-year-old. Born in England, my Gran eventually moved to the Yukon where she raised two boys, learned to make bannock (traditional native bread), ice fish, hunt and run sled dogs. Years later, she wound up in Brockville where she worked at the hospital for many years until she retired. I still remember going in to visit her at her post on switchboard. She lived on Pearl Street then with a grumpy, old cat named Frisky. I loved going to Gran's house because she always had apple juice in these tiny little cans. I remember playing with her tupperware and on her exercise bike, which I would later inherit. Her house on Pearl was sweet because it was on the Christmas-parade route. My sister and I would just sit on her front step and watch, moving to the curb occasionally to get candy from the clowns. She moved to Park Street, which was also nice because it was across from Cowan's Dairy and the best ice cream in town. Now she lives at Sherwood Park Manor where she's made some friends, is well cared for and has daily visits from her gal pal, Inger. Today my parents brought her coffee from Tim Horton's and treats from Tait's Bakery on King. For my birthday in July, I got a birthday book from my friend Theresa. So Gran, here's a bit of what it says about you.
"Although you are charming and friendly, the urge for action and personal accomplishment revealed by your birthday suggest that you are a strong-willed and ambitious individual. With a quick grasp of a situation, you prefer to be honest and straightforward."
Happy Birthday, Gran! I wish I was there to celebrate with you.
Peace.

If I had a nickel, I'd have five cents

I am bursting with pride today. Yesterday I ran the dogs out at Cripple Creek and they were fantastic. But the best part is, I tried Sneaky Pete in lead for the first time and he was amazing. This is only his third time running with the team and, just to see what would happen, I put him up front with Capiche. He didn't even hesitate, he just ran. This young boy is going to be a superstar, I just know it. He's got a great build, hilarious personality, he's smart and loyal, and he trusts me completely. (He does have super-rank gas, however, but I'm overlooking that.) So, when I put him up front, he didn't question it all at, he just went. Amazing. For just a young, inexperienced dog, I was astounded with his gumption. And oh so proud. The rest of the team was super. Hitchcock has the most energy I've ever seen. When the team is trotting along, she's still lunging to go faster. After the run, I let her loose just so could burn off some of those reserves and she still wasn't tired. The rest of the dogs were pretty knackered, but not Hitchcock. Happy is working out well. I ran him in swing and he pulls nicely, though he crabs to the left a little. Strider paced for a while early in the run, but his sister used to do that too, so maybe it's genetic. Bull ran in lead until I put in the Sneaky One but he was pooped anyway, so was happy to get a break. Anyway, I am more excited than ever about the upcoming race season. I haven't run Sally yet as she is still very shy. I think I'm going to give her back to her owner. I can't really have a dog that I can't even get close to. The rest of my dogs are friendly and are good when I let them loose just about anywhere, but Sally just isn't warming up to me. I take time each day to sit near her house, talk to her and try and coax her out, but she's not interested. We'll see.
Anyway, here are some photos that Rich took on yesterday's run.
Peace.
Hitchcock eager to get going while I hook up the rest of the team.

Hitchcock lunging while the team is heading down the road to the trail.


Part of my new trail is on an old road, which is nice because the dogs can run a little faster.


There is a steep hill that the dogs have mastered beautifully.


Taking a break to canoodle with Gus and Hazel.



Up the hill.

Jill? What's in your head?

Cobwebs. Enthusiasm. Cynicism.
I went out the ol' four-wheeler Friday to scout out a new trail for fall training. The trail Rich and I went on before that with a nine-dog team was just a little too marshy. We got stuck and had to turn the team around in a tight spot which resulted in a massive tangle. Capiche slipped her harness and took off down the trail for a few seconds until she realized we weren't behind her. She spun around and came back. Good girl!! She's definitely going to be good for us this winter. She sat and watched as Rich and I painstakingly unhooked each dog and released them from the tangled web of tug, neck and gang lines. It was not pretty and at the end I was shaking and very, very sweaty. So, I decided to find a better trail on the system behind out house. One direction led me a new house smack-dab in the middle of the trail. The next route led me to more bottomless bogs. I got stuck twice and had to winch myself out. The only problem was the winch was underwater and the only trees to latch onto to were tiny pecker poles. I got out though and realized that fall training wasn't going to work on the trails out of my yard. In the winter, they are fine; frozen and snow-covered. So, yesterday, in search of a more suitable path, I loaded up the quad and headed out to Cripple Creek to Steve's house. Dana and I took the machine out to find me some new training trails. Eureka! So, starting tomorrow I will truck the dogs west every other day and train there until we get snow. (Lisa, a cheque is on the way for the use of YOUR machine)
It's a bit of a hassle but I'm looking forward to seeing some new terrain. I got two new dogs - Happy and Sally - a couple days ago. Happy has his name for a reason, but Sally still isn't sure and only comes out of her house to eat when I am very, very far away. I spend time each day sitting near her house talking to her and trying to reassure her that all is well at Spitfire Kennels. But, like me with my fledgling locks, it will take plenty of patience. Oy.
Peace.

Beeee careful out there, lady!

Ok. I have a lot of video clips from the past couple of years but this is one that stands out in my mind as funny/stupid/ridiculous. This clip was shot last summer by Sam and unbeknownst to me. We had a hornet problem (that's putting it lightly) around town and these meat-eating fuckers were everywhere (sorry Gran). Processing fish was impossible without shelter, dog food wasn't safe, I mean it, the hornets invaded. So anyway, after the mushing season, I chucked my dog sled on the lawn (Liz's lawn, actually. We were still living in the tiny crack shack on Goldhill Road). So, in July, I finally got around to cleaning out the sled to store it properly and, wonder of all wonders, the winged buggers had built their nests in my sled. So, instead of doing the sane thing and spraying it down with bug-killing stuff, or just waiting for them to vacate, I wanted to destroy and conquer...with two broken trail markers. So, here I am in all my wasp-killing glory. The thing I like about this video is not my throaty yowl, but Bully, calm as always, in the driveway. Then the randomness at the end it really too much. I hope you all find this as funny as Sam and I did.
Peace.

The height of just-too-muchery

I ran the dogs yesterday and it was chaotic but necessary. The trails are really swampy and I almost got the four-wheeler stuck several times. All the dogs did an amazing job but Capiche really stood out in lead. Hitchcock was also great and the pups were surprisingly strong and eager despite the tough conditions.
Peace.
Theresa and I are at LuLu's and she's showing me how to upload video to my blog. Here's a short clip of me mushing in the White Mountains last spring. More to come.

Autumn visitors

It's getting cold now. My flowers are dead, but my spirits are high. Well, sort of. Libby's leaving for Iceland tomorrow and that makes me sad, but she'll only be gone for a few months and I'm super stoked for her. This will be a new and exciting twist in her already full life. I'll miss you Libby.
Yesterday, Sam and I were working on the house when a mama moose and her two calves stopped by for a visit. They were so close and weren't bothered at all by the screaming, crazy dogs all around them or by me snapping away and speaking softly to them. We've seen this mama and her babes periodically throughout the summer and it's been neat to watch them grow. It is a little disturbing, however, to see how fearless they are because inevitably they'll be around all winter when I'm out with the team. Anyway, here are some pics of mama and one of her babes, the other was a little shutter shy and didn't come out of the brush for her closeup. Ruffles, my blind, deaf old biddy, wandered a little too close at one point because, well, she didn't see or hear them I guess. But I wrangled Ruffles back into the house where she cuddled up with her armless monkey (Sister ripped the arms off the monkey several months ago) and fell asleep, oblivious to how close she came to getting kicked by the moose.
Peace.

Looking 'artsy in a clean sort-of way'

My hair is such a disaster, the Red Cross wouldn't give it coffee.
For a couple, maybe three, weeks now I've been attempting somewhat unsuccessfully to dread my hair.
Now, there are a lot of misconceptions about dreadlocks, and so I would like to dispel some of those urban hair myths if I may:
- For most, simply not brushing your hair does lead to dreadlocks, not very nice ones anyway. I have a few friends who this has worked for, but there is some maintenance involved.
- You still have to wash your hair when you have dreads. Dreadlocks form best with dry hair. Oily hair does not work as well, therefore washing is a must.
I guess those were the two main things.
My hair is thick, curly and course. I though it would be perfect for dreading, but it's not taking very well, hence the above disaster comment.
A couple weeks ago, when I made the decision, I sat down with a fine-tooth comb, clips, tiny elastics, beeswax and an entire season of Will and Grace. I separated the hair into sections and backcombed, or teased, the snot out of it. Then I twisted and twisted with a bit of wax until my head was covered in puffy, schlongs of hair. After a few days, the knotted hair began to unravel. Can it be? I kept up the maintenance, sitting down each night and teasing the crap out of the hair. (with a comb, not verbally). Again, after a few days and a gentle washing with all-natural shampoo, the knots were coming out. Did I tell you that I have horse hair? I mean, really, WTF?
I'm now in the third week and all my original dreads have come undone. I'm not giving up, however. Now I want them more than ever. It takes months for dreads to start and sometimes years for them to look good, if you like how dreads look, which I do.
So, even though I'm not patient, I will wait and tease and tease and probably get teased. That's OK, though.
I won't post any pictures because, well, you know, the aforementioned disaster. But Google Medusa and you might get an idea.
Peace.

When good meat sandwiches go bad

I feel lucky that I have such a diverse group of friends here. Smart, funny women who aren't afraid to cut loose every once in a while. Women of all ages that I can talk politics, current events, books, music or even 'that funny smell behind you' with. Some are hardcore outdoorswomen, some are not. Most are crafty in some capacity or another and therefore I'm able to learn new things all the time. Friday, I met a group of friends at the Pub to see Tim Easton. We talked about work a little, but mostly laughed and joked. While at the Pub, I met for the first time, a group of other women who I caught up with later at the Marlin. They were strangers, but we bonded pretty much instantly. It's rare for women, I find, to open up and accept new girls into their group. But this bevy of four let me in and we exchanged phone numbers at the end of the night. One women, a geography professor at the university, who lives in Goldstream with her husband, actually called yesterday to invite me to dinner with some of her other friends. I accepted, figuring it would be an opportunity to meet new people. I showed up and we got to work harvesting vegetables from her huge garden. We picked corn, beets, carrots and Swiss chard for dinner. Inside we opened a bottle of wine, cooked salmon and talked until late in the night. I'm so glad I went. She offered to help me set up my garden here if I would show her how to make mosaic-tile tables and tie dye shirts. I mean, where else does that happen?
On the other end of the girlfriend spectrum, I went on an all-women moose hunt on Thursday and met some entirely different kinds of women. Hardcore, fearless outdoor enthusiasts with whom I could also relate. I was there on assignment and learned a lot. Alaska lures all kinds; writers, artists, musicians, dog mushers, labourers, teachers, students, etc. Though I have only met a fraction of the cool, unique women here, I'm looking forward to meeting more, and the great things about Fairbanks is that you never know where or when it will happen.
Peace.
Here are some photos from the moose hunt Thursday.

She got one!

Birch forest.
Bumper sticker in one of the guides' trucks. Treadwell was a douche who lived with bears in Alaska until they ate him.

Scouting a field for moose.

Making our way to a blind.

Autumn colours, eager pups

Fall training will start in just a few days, so in the meantime, I, with the help of Rich, have been running the dogs loose on the trails behind our house. Today was gorgeous. It was cool and the fall colours are magnificent. Here are some pics from today's run.
Peace.We took seven dogs, well, actually six, Gus was loose but decided not to come on the run.




Sneaky Pete on the right and his sister Parker on the left. Petey won by nose.


To the left, Sister cutting Pete off. That's Capiche coming right for the camera. She hit me going full speed and knocked me on my ass.


Sister.

Capiche with Pete in hot pursuit.



My boy Strider.

Mama Ruffles didn't come either, she wanted to stay home so she wouldn't miss her stories.

McCandless: Selfish? Foolish? Mentally ill?

I went to the screening of Sean Penn's Into the Wild last week. The movie is based of Jon Krakauer's book. It's the true story of a rich, well-educated boy who deserts his money, his family, his life, to travel around the U.S. and eventually finds himself struggling to survive in Alaska. He didn't survive. He died of starvation a few months after wandering, stumbling, bumbling into the wild.
I'm not going to go on a whole rant here, but I have to say Chris McCandless was a selfish, selfish guy. He left his parents and his sister, with whom he had a tight relationship with, and didn't give them any indication where he was. He had no contact with them at all. Apparently, he wandered around touching all those he met, changing their lives and making them see the errors of their ways, and yet he left those who loved him the most completely in the dark until they got word of his mysterious death in Alaska. I can completely understand wanting to get away from everyone and everything and I also understand the lure of the North. I've moved thousands of kilometers away from where I grew up, gone to work abroad, but still, I stay in touch with my family, probably not as much as they'd like, but I do. I love them because they are, and always will be, my family. There is no denying it (abusive relationships aside). They are blood and that bond means something. My father has been instilling that in me my whole life and though we have our problems and disagreements, they are my family and I love them. Chris' family worried for nearly two years, but he changed his name, burned his ID and simply disappeared, causing his family grief I can only imagine. What if your son did that to you? Would still think McCandless was a hero? I think not.
I, like many, became enamoured with the book, the whole saga actually. My first winter here I took a team of dogs out the bus to see it for myself. For the record, I didn't see any pants or boots that were apparently left there by McCandless 14 years earlier.
There were things I liked about the film. The scenic shots, the music... Oh, I also liked that it was filmed here in Alaska and employed Alaskans. It has given Alaskans something to be proud of: Alaska.
The film's producers talked repeatedly, with me and other reporters, about the importance of accuracy, but the film was riddled with misleading errors. It is Hollywood, I know, but don't claim it is truth, when it is not. He didn't die from eating potato seeds, he starved. And really now, the scene when he realizes that he ate these seeds and then looks it up in his field guide...give me a break, please. The grizzly bear, the darkness in July...there is more which I won't get into. I interviewed several people who both liked and disliked the film (and the book for that matter) and am looking forward to writing the article. One interviewee brought up the point that McCandless was most likely mentally ill and was disappointed that that wasn't even touched upon in the book or the film. Whatever his reasons or thought process, McCandless is not like 95 percent of people who come here, as one man close to the film said in recent newspaper and radio interviews. Perhaps he meant the sense of wanderlust, which I too have suffered from, but I'm sure that 95 percent of transplants didn't knowingly and purposely hurt, crush, devastate their families to come here. I know I didn't.
Chris McCandless is no hero.

Peace.

Happy Sam-iversay...part deux!

Today is our two-year anniversary! "Our love and admiration has grown exponentially over the last two years, imagine where we'll be after a lifetime," said Sam this morning. What a guy!
We decided this year not to get gifts or cards but rather enjoy a nice dinner out this evening. Except that I saw a cool 'Music of the World' CD and wrapped it for him, which just made him feel like crap because he didn't get me anything (as per our agreement), so that kind of backfired. In two years, Sam and I have shared so much: Amazing float trips down wild and not-so-wild Alaska rivers, camping trips, we've built a home together, together we've recognized my dream of being a dog musher and made it a reality, we're living both of our dreams of doing what we want, where we want; we've laughed (mostly me at him...did I say at? I meant with), we've cried, but most importantly we've grown together. We have learned so much about each other and ourselves by being open and honest, we've compromised and we've stuck to our respective guns. We have so much to learn from each other. Sam is organized and loyal. I am flighty and also loyal to the things I am passionate about. Sam is patient, I am not. We are both working photojournalists with very, very different styles and therefore can learn and share new and unique ideas every day, not just about our work but regarding life in general.
To sum up, I am in love and loved more so than I ever have been before. Thank you, Sam.
Peace
PS Thanks to my parents and good friends Myron and Joan for the thoughtful cards. They were unexpected and most appreciated.

Sam and I last weekend putting in the canoe on the Chatanika River.

Yeah, Sandra Bullock? You owe me $4.50!

Premonition sucks. Especially when the guy's head rolls out of the coffin. Don't rent it.

Anyway, this weekend Sam is hunting for Bullwinkle on the Chatanika River. I was supposed to go moose hunting with him, but he convinced me to stay and take this sled-dog chiropractic course. The teacher is a doctor who used to work on people, was introduced to mushing, liked dogs better, and now has devoted his life to huskies. I took an afternoon course of his last year on how to adjust the dogs' backs but this weekend's course is more extensive. Bully was my test bunny because he's so laid back. Since I'll be going out with the team for longer periods of time this winter, I need to know how to fix them if something goes 'pop' or 'click.' Today we learned how to identify shoulder and neck injuries, how to pinpoint which muscle or joint is tweaked, how to distract and/or manipulate the joint in question and how to loosen the joint to prepare for said manipulation. Many mushers spent a lot of time at checkpoints massaging dogs' muscles trying to get rid of stiffness or soreness, but if you can get proficient in identifying the problem, it will inevitably make the whole process much more efficient. Today was a little overwhelming with a lot of anatomy that I wasn't familiar with like, for example, supraspinatus, subscapularis, infraspinatus, teres minor, etc. And of course, Wes, our instructor, pulled me up in front of the class to go over everything we learned from the day, which I mumbled and joked my way through and despite being called out, was really glad he chose me because it helped me remember more. Tomorrow we're working on hips, wrists and backs.
On Monday, I'm going to the premiere of 'Into the Wild,' a movie directed by Sean Penn based on Jon Krakauer's book of the same name, which is debuting here because it was filmed here. The book recounts the true story of Chris McCandless, a rich, well-educated kid who burned his money, threw away his possessions and came north to Alaska. He hiked into the woods near Healy , found an old abandoned bus and moved in. Over several weeks, he realized he was not prepared to live with nothing in the wilds of Alaska and tried to go back. But the river he crossed early in the spring had risen and he was trapped. He starved to death and was found later in the fall by hunters. I read the book several times and was intrigued, but came to conclusion, like many, that the kid was an irresponsible idiot who had no business being out there in the first place. But still, I made a pilgrimage to the bus last winter by dog team. There was a plaque that his family had put up and letters to Chris from people who had travel to the bus to see where he died. It was all very creepy. In the winter, you can only get there by dog team or snowmachine and the route is pretty much impassable in the summer.
Anyway, here are some photos of the bus I shot last year. I sold one of them to Men's Journal for an article they did in this month's issue. The movie has been getting a lot of publicity and Alaskans are skeptical. I'm anticipating a cheesy Hollywood flick. I'm writing a review of the movie for a magazine here and won't be afraid to tell it like is, but am trying desperately to keep an open mind.
Peace.