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The Great White North
  • Jasmine Ware
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sep. 2017 – sep. 2025

The Great White North

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    Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    The iconic Ainu symbol--the bear
    Clothing so like other indigenous groupsDrying fish very similarly to the Inuit wayBags and satchelsUsing the available furs...reminds me of the seal skin stuff hereSo thoughtful....little tables for your purse/bag.

    Ainu and Arctic people

    13 juli 2019, Japan ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C

    I could really get into this whole anthropology thing...if I could ever manage to keep all the people straight and their timelines. It's like dinosaurs. They're cool, but I can not keep them straight and only know that they were in the Jurassic period thanks to the movie.

    I think it's cool because I've been lucky enough to be in just a few northern places in the world and, not to paint everyone with the same brush, but man oh man, are there similarities between the Northern Indigenous peoples! Japan is/was no different. Like North America, Japanese from the Honshu island did their best to ignore, force assimilation and generally wipe out the indigenous groups as they colonized into the northern islands, like Hokkaido. The Japanese government even hired American consultants to help the "assimilation" process; these consultants wise and experienced as they were fresh off their own country's actions to deal with the North American Native population. The indigenous people even called the ethnic Japanese "colonizer" or "one whom you cannot trust"---sounds so familiar right?

    In fact, it wasn't until 2008 that the Japanese government actually officially recognized that there was indeed, a distinct ethnogroup that had inhabited the northern island of Hokkaido. These people are called Ainu. This roughly translates to "human".

    There is evidence of human habitation of Hokkaido 20,000 years ago from peoples that walked down from Siberia and Russia. By the end of the last ice age, they had become hunter gatherers known as the Ainu. They look so different from the Japanese that they sometimes were mistaken for Caucasian. ....but their DNA is Mongoloid. Surprise, surprise....nope, not for me at least. The pictures of these people are so freaking reminiscent of what I saw in the Mongolian nomads and the North American Inuit it was uncanny. Deep set eyes, prominent cheekbones---features not associated with the Asian ethnicity. In the museum we visited, there was a recording of a woman speaking Ainu (one of very few left that can speak the traditional language). As I walked by, I thought it was Inuktitut. The rhythm, cadence and low guttural sounds seemed similar to a novice like me. It gave me pause.

    Like many groups intertwined with nature, the Ainu were animistic/shamanistic in beliefs and were deeply connected with the largest predator on the island, the brown bear. They have found carvings and ceremonial bear skull burials dating back thousands of years. I love how each culture seems to have their own central animal talisman that forms an important part of their belief system. The Ainu relied heavily on the salmon and fish, just like the bears. They lived side by side. Today, the bear is still very important in Ainu culture and it symbolizes their resilience and toughness, like the bear.

    If you look at a map of Japan, the Russian archipelago islands nearly kiss Hokkaido and it is easy to understand how flow of people occurred there. There are still many Ainu people living and recognized in Russia. Today, in Japan, the culture is learning how to live with a hint of diversity after more than a hundred years of efforts to focus on homogeneity. The few thousand Ainu that are left are now attempting to save any of the culture and memories that are left while learning how to be proud of their heritage rather than ashamed.

    I am always drawn to these stories and learning about these things because, to me, it further represents how we may feel our life experiences are painfully unique but they are not. We are all quite human and quite intertwined.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Of course, absolutely spotless
    1Best field we could findPast the shrubs, heading into the calderaDense clouds...Breathtaking.So much sulphur

    Finally found a squatter toilet!

    11 juli 2019, Japan ⋅ ☀️ 27 °C

    Aha! I knew there had to be one somewhere! A true, proper squat toilet. Were we in a National Park far from the visitor's centres and city centres? Yes, but still....I've seen the top-of-the-line Toto Washlet toilets on the side of random rural-as-heck roads. I was beginning to think Japan had removed all of the traditional squat style. It was like seeing a unicorn.

    But, believe it or not, we did more than find toilets.

    We tooled around Sapporo, which was a city with sidewalks and sunny skies. Nothing particularly interesting about the city itself other than it hosted the Winter Olympics some time ago and is the site of the famous Japanese Sapporo beer brewery.

    The sites on Hokkaido island are more natural in their wonder. We sought out the infamous lavender fields in the Fukano area northeast of Sapporo with our sweet teeny tiny Toyota Vitz--fits approximately 2 normal size humans and their purses or satchel. Ta-da!

    We suspect that this year was not a stellar year for whatever weather the lavender fields needed because they were, um, underwhelming. We kept looking at the guide books and then up to the actual fields trying to make the images reconcile. They did not. The fields in Washington State that I got to see were much more impressive than what we saw and granted what I saw in Washington looked like the Furano guide book pictures so we think the flowers/plants weren't doing so hot. We were there in peak season...supposedly.

    We quickly abandoned our "lavender" tour since there wasn't much to tour and we headed to Daisetsuzan National Park. This park is one of Japan's most revered national treasures with active volcanos, high alpine meadows and snow covered peaks. Even more exciting was that the Hokkaido brown bear (same species as a North American brown bear--grizzly) lives in the Park! So, you're telling me we can walk to the caldera of an active volcano and maybe see bears?!!? SOLD! Jonathan I think was less excited given his enjoyment of sweating and while Hokkaido is higher elevation and cooler than the other Japanese archipelago islands, it still wasn't dry and cool.

    We hiked into the park, which was conveniently and nicely free, enjoying the otherworldly vistas created by the toxic eruptions from the volcano. The trail was well marked up to the sulphur field. Then, it seemed to end and we realized we were dead in the caldera with plumes of hot steam, stinking strongly of sulphur, all around us. The ground was strangely and freakily squishy. The smell was suffocating when the wind would push the air toward us. Then, new plumes would pop up and you'd be gagging on the rotten eggs regardless of the wind. Jonathan quickly decided he was done with it all. There was no way he was going to abide both sweating AND shit smells no matter the mountain views. With my partner tapping out and being unsure if the trail continued, we called it quits and made our way back. We were the only people in the caldera and the dense clouds cleared as we were in there avoiding the stench providing some amazing views.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Misty Iya Valley on departure day
    Hydrangeas are literally everywhere. They are wild and ubiquitous!3The vehicles were the best. This is a cargo truck. Yep.Sapporo. Winter Olympic ski jump in distance7Excellent viewing from the hotel bed.More perfect Jonathan-size vehicles.

    trains, trains, and more trains...

    9 juli 2019, Japan ⋅ ⛅ 20 °C

    The trip from Shikoku and the Iya Valley to Hokkaido island and Sapporo city took all.day.long. by train.

    1. Bus from Iya Valley out to Oboke Station
    2. Oboke station on non-bullet train to Okayama Station
    3. Transfer to special bullet train to Tokyo Station
    4. Transfer to different bullet train at Tokyo Station with 3 min to transfer (yeah, totally not panicking with that "layover" time----but it turns out the trains were literally on the same track so the one we exited pulled away and the one we were to board pulled in. Noice!)
    5. Bullet train from Tokyo Station to Hodate station
    6. Regular train from Hodate to Sapporo.

    Easy peasy. Thank god for the interwebs that helped figure that little rodeo out!

    We arrived in Sapporo sometime around midnight and went straight to our hotel which was directly behind the train station---nicely done Jonathan!

    The next day was exploring the city a bit and getting out of town in our rental car....which Sapporo had in droves considering it's a city of half a million.

    We enjoyed the idiosyncrasies of Japanese sizes and design and set out for the lavender fields for which this area is renowned in the summer (yep, very Washington-state esque Hokkaido island is).    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Pssh, and Jonathan doubted this was "the path". 😂
    Waiting at the bus stopWe are totally on the path!Jonathan not impressed with "the path"--lots of spider websYou can see why we thought the path was on private property...

    Violating property and privacy

    8 juli 2019, Japan ⋅ ⛅ 20 °C

    Now at the mercy of the bus timetable, Jonathan and I had to reevaluate our plans for the Iya Valley. I had so wanted to drive to Mt. Tsurgi, a hikeable mountain with unspoiled vistas of the surrounding peaks and valleys. There was a bus that was supposed to go there. But, yep, you guessed it...that bus was not running the week we were there. We learned very quickly that when it's low tourist season in Tokyo, that means there is NO ONE out in the Iya Valley. lol.
    So, no bus to the mountain I wanted to see. The running buses were limited and spaced far apart so that if you missed yours back to your hotel, you would likely be staying overnight wherever you happened to be. So, "let's go exploring!", we said enthusiastically ignoring what might happen if we didn't understand the bus schedule or it was not running for some reason.

    We decided to take the bus to what was touted as an authentic hillside village that has roots going back in history over a thousand years, the Ochiai Village. Tour groups apparently offer tours of this little village, but the map and internet assured us that exploring it on foot was doable. In fact, that was part of the beauty the blogs and reviews said...."use the traditional footpaths etched throughout the mountainside that locals have used for centuries to traverse up and down the steep hillside". Excellent. There are paths.

    We catch the bus and journey even further into the Iya Valley. Meeting vehicles along the way and sending them in reverse to eek over to a spot wide enough for our bus to pass. Again, we were the only 2 people on the entire, full-sized bus. It turns out that we were, apparently, touristing alone in Japan. lololol.

    Forty minutes later we reach a nondescript spot on the road near a cluster of buildings. This is our bus stop. I search for a bus sign so I can find this unmarked "bus stop" for our return. There is a rusty sign that marks our spot. There are no sidewalks. The homes are right against the single lane road. It is dead as disco. For once, there are no maps or signs in Japan. We stand together, swiveling our heads around, looking completely like the ill-informed, lost tourists that we are. My kind of travel.....where are we? where do we go? where is this so-called "traditional village"?

    I read it was up the mountain so I figured we should try to go "up the mountain". Jonathan was less impressed with this plan. But, given that there were no signs or depots for lost travelers like ourselves, I figured we had nothing to lose. I mean, you can't get lost.....just head back down the hill. lol. As we started walking along the road, trying to decide on the best point of entry to "up the mountain", I saw a clear stone path leading up, between two homes. This was it! The traditional paths! Jonathan then explained that this could also be the path to the two homes...which were nestled a foot from either side of the path. The "path" definitely didn't look like a path for the foreign visitors. I conceded that he could be right, but hey, why not try it! Maybe we'll end up in someone's kitchen and they will feed us! Wouldn't that be awesome?! To me, it was a win-win.

    We embarked on the uneven, rock path and soon discovered a plaque that confirmed we were, indeed, on the traditional paths! Ha! I knew it! And, yet again, Japan didn't let me down with their signs! lolol.

    We continued on but the "path" deteriorated and even I wasn't sure if we were on the path or in someone's yard. As we zig-zagged our way "up the mountain", there was no doubt that we entered people's yards because when you have to step on their back porch to travel "the path", you're pretty certain you're not on "the path" anymore. We scurried across the private property like cockroaches aiming for the dark. I employed the "keep your head down so that if you can't see them, they can't see you scientific strategy".

    Every once in a while we'd see a little plaque somewhere and we'd beeline toward it so that we could be sure we got back on "the path".

    Our exploration was basically us walking through people's daily lives. It was like a living heritage museum, but the people in the museum were not paid actors. We saw how subsistence farming and cultivation was occurring on these silly steep hills. We saw the fireplaces and cooking areas. We saw the people tending their flowers, their wash, and their gardens. Scattered throughout were old, restored thatch-roof houses that appeared to serve as rest areas. We sat at these and let the humidity envelope us, silently begging for the clouds to open up and give us some reprieve. We were walking up this mountain, in the heat of the day, with the air heavy with humid moisture. I am no longer accustomed to that. It was like stepping back to Tennessee. Poor Jonathan has no tolerance of heat, and more importantly, sweating. Even when I was working in arid, dry Idaho and he visited, he could barely stand the sweating. At the first moment of sweating, his desire is to stop and cool down. Summer in Japan means the humidity makes it feel like you've taken a shower, not dried yourself, and then put all your clothes back on. So, any time we stopped, Jonathan quickly began pulling off all the clothes he could...shoes, socks, shirts....anything to alleviate the sweating. The only two things I've seen ruffle the man are: sweating and having his legs crushed by the reclined seat in front of him on a long-haul flight.

    After we'd absorbed all the culture we could stand, we started heading back down. That was our day. Up the mountain and back down. No other tourists. No lines. No urban sounds besides the occasional vehicle making its way up or down the mountain on the single road. (We took that road back down in accordance with Jonathan not having the desire to wade through knee-high grass and slippery slopes. I think he was over "the path". lolol).

    We arrived back to the bus sign and sat waiting, alone. We saw the school bus come, drop its kid cargo, and other tides of life occurring around us the little village. While it wasn't Mt. Tsurgi, it was awesome to see untouched Japanese life and culture operating without perturbation.

    When the bus came, we climbed aboard wearily, and again, had our private bus shuttle take us back to Kazurabashi stop, the only 2 people aboard.

    We had another evening of incredible food at the ryokan. Another 4000 course meal replete with our fried whole fish that I decimated, again, with chopsticks. We arranged to have the hotelier take us to the bus stop in the morning as we get set to begin the marathon journey from Shikoku island to Hokkaido island in the north. Most people fly there, but we have this sweet bullet train pass so why not spend the next 18 hours on a train??!    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    4Do you see those gaps?!!!
    Yep. That's how I crossed tooNot sure what these were....?Earthquake sensors??? Anyone know??1Hanging at the bus stop. Booo, no car. It was hot.

    A bridge made of vines

    8 juli 2019, Japan ⋅ ⛅ 22 °C

    Given that we had no car, our exploration plans had to be adjusted somewhat. Our ryokan was very near a famous bridge in the Iya Vally called the Kazurabashi bridge. It is made of vines. These bridges, of which there used to be 13, which crisscrossed the remote, misty gorges of the Iya Valley allowed fleeing bandits to cross the gorge while easily cutting them down to make it impossible to reach them. No one really knows when or why the bridges were built. The theory about fleeing bandits and refugees is supported by the fact that many defeated warriors fled to this valley to escape persecution. The other theory is more supernatural and offers that Kobo-Daishi, the founder of Shingon Buddahism, created the bridges.

    Now there are only 3 remaining bridges. Because of the ole car debacle, we could not reach the bridges I most wanted to see, but it turns out I was fine with this because the Kazurabashi bridge, at 150 ft long and 4 1/2 stories above the water with planks set 8 inches apart was enough for me. I don't really care that much for heights and having to cross this swaying vine bridge was wreaking havoc on my anxious, nauseous tummy. If I wasn't in public, I probably would have belly-crawled across. But, pride made me suck it up and pretend I was uber-cool and chill when I was quaking in my boots. While I was reading about these bridges, one crosser was quoted as saying, "You never think a vine bridge is that scary until you cross one and shit a brick."

    Yep.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Not room for 2. Barely enough for 1.
    Oboke town...where the bus picked us upRoad to our ryokan (hotel)1Amazing views, incredible building techTraditional bridge of vines. How gorge crossings used to be.My cool hotel sandals.

    Off the beaten path...or the entire path

    7 juli 2019, Japan ⋅ ⛅ 21 °C

    Welp, I managed to accomplish my goal of getting away from the crowds....a little too good. When we were planning this trip, I wasn't keen on being sequestered in stifling cities at the peak of summer. So, I looked for places that were supposedly quieter (a la Kanazawa, the sleepy town of 400k...lolol) and a little more rural. And by god, did I get it. Oops.

    Today was spent traveling from Kanazawa to the Iya Valley. It was supposed to be a few train rides and then a car rental at the train station. The Iya Valley was touted on the internet as an incredible, majestic, serene, off-the-beaten path destination. It was the destination of choice for fleeing, defeated lords across the centuries as a place to hide out after their exile so they wouldn't be killed by the new reigning leaders. That's how remote this place used to be. However, the internet assured me it was so totally worth it and renting a car was no big deal right there at the Awa-Ikeda train station.

    I even did my research and learned that to rent a car or drive in Japan, you need an International Driver's License. You cannot get one of these in Japan. You must obtain one in your home country before departing. I had Jonathan fill the form, take his passport-sized photos, and get all officially licensed up before we left. (Igloolik does not offer these services, so I was not able to get my IDP).

    The internet assured me that even though the roads were single car width through the mountains, a foreigner not used to driving on that side of the road would be fine. So, I told Jonathan he'd be fine driving in unfamiliar mountain roads on the left. He appreciated that I volunteered him for this. :)

    I had even booked a full service hotel replete with dinner service because the internet explained that food services were hard to come by in this isolated corner of Japan.

    We were totally prepared. We had this nailed. Imagine my surprise when we flounce off the train at our car-rental-designated train station and discovered from the tourism lady, in broken English, that there were NO rental cars at all there. Not even a company that was closed. No. Nothing. She didn't even know what I was talking about with car rentals--we were those crazy tourists with completely wrong information. I was flabbergasted. The Interwebs had failed me! Thus far, Japan had been a demonstration of silky smooth efficiency. I was not prepared for any wrenches in my plans. This wasn't like traveling in Africa where every plan needed 6 alternative plans cause no plan is a real plan.

    The lady could see we were pretty much at a loss as to what to do. She took pity on us and called the nearest car rental agency, which was 40 min by train back the way we had just come. It was a moot point anyhow because they didn't have any cars either.

    There should have been some signs along the way that we were leaving the well traveled path....the decreasing tourists at each station. The dwindling occupancy in our train car. We didn't bother to notice them.

    We gathered ourselves and began figuring our what we were gonna do. The tourism lady told us that there were buses to near our hotel. She told us to get back on the train and continue riding it down to where the buses would pick us up. We needed to hurry because there was only one bus left and we would need to be on the next train to get it. Otherwise, we'd be stranded right where we were. Super.

    We got our tickets, hustled on the train and arrived at the train station where the buses passed. It was a one-room train station. We had to cross the train tracks, in fact, to get to the station. This was a far cry from the multi-level, multi-city block train stations around Tokyo.

    We consulted with the androgynous attendant and she/he somehow conveyed that the bus would come. My trust now broken, I went out and read and reread the bus timetable sign about 7 times to convince myself that we were not, in fact, now stranded in an even smaller town with no transportation or places to stay.

    However, Japanese dedication to timeliness and consistency showed once again when the completely empty bus pulled up and Jonathan and I got on as the only riders. We looked at each other and nodded. Mission accomplished. We have, apparently, left all civilization whatsoever in this densely forested steep valley.

    Our ride was incredible and breathtaking. The roads I read about online were, indeed, only one lane despite there being 2-way traffic. Smaller vehicles would have to back down and away from our lumbering, careening bus. After about 40 minutes of riding on the snaking roads (I mean, if you're bored, check out Google maps for the roads--switchback central over here), we arrived at the bus stop.

    We were the only folks there besides a few vendors selling ice cream and meat to invisible patrons. We got an ice cream to fortify us for our next leg of the journey. What was supposed to be a relaxing day of train and then private car travel was turning into a 12 hr marathon of trains, buses, and now, our feet. We humped our backpacks and started walking to where we were shown, on a map, our hotel should be. The problem with most maps, is that they are not topographical. With topography, at least you can mentally prepare for what lies ahead. But not with regular, run of the mill, maps. Nope, your route to your hotel looks like a jaunty little caper down the road when in fact, it's a slog up a 20% grade in 90% humidity.

    The best blessing came when we made it to our hotel, an authentic Japanese ryokan, and were shown to our room and I saw a gleaming, fierce air conditioner mounted right above the sleeping area. Yes Maam!!

    We finished our day by rinsing the sweat and travel off of us just in time to make it downstairs for dinner, wearing our authentic Japanese grass sandals. Dinner was a culinary field trip consisting of about a dozen courses. I honestly lost count. All I know is there were about 29 little dishes that had to be carted away. Jonathan and I were so hungry that the full fish with head and eyeballs included did nothing to sway our eager stabbing with the chopsticks to get at its flesh. Have you ever tried eating a whole fried fish with chopsticks?
    So many different, interesting flavors. I may have dropped the ball on the rental car and backup plan, but I nailed it by making sure we had dinner when we arrived! Whew!

    Now, on to the exploration of this Iya Valley with no car.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Can see construction methods...rope.Note little tiny house thing on left--that's a geyserNot messing around2Into the dense forests and mountains

    Using what you got

    6 juli 2019, Japan ⋅ ⛅ 23 °C

    Every time I get the chance to see somewhere new in the world, I'm struck by how many ways there are to "live". What I mean by that is that humans have been figuring out how to live in their environments for forever. Even within North America I've seen this. Take the Southeastern United States for example, where I grew up, clay bricks are extremely popular for building whereas in the Northwest US, it's all wood. Where I live now, in the Arctic, the people have had to be very inventive and creative to create dwellings and live in a treeless, clayless environment. But, they did it and have 27 different words for 'snow' to encompass all the different types and categories, illustrating that a simple precipitation word to non-Arctic peoples is a very important concept to Arctic dwellers.

    The same in Japan. In Shirakawago, a now-UNESCO designated heritage site, tourists can see the ingenuity of how traditional homes were built using what they had----grass--called 'gassho-style'. Not only were homes built using grass, but also shoes, clothes, bassinets, mats, etc. Instead of everything being seal skin like it is in Igloolik, it was grass.

    The village we visited is actually one of 3 such UNESCO designated villages. Their location deep in a mountainous region at high elevation both protected them from encroaching sprawl and redevelopment such that in the 1970s, local residents decided that this traditional style was worth preserving. They worked for 20 years to restore the homes back to their glory and achieve the UNESCO status, predicting that future tourists and Japanese would value this and bring economic stimulus. The steep mountains that surround these villages prevent any real agriculture of scale. Back in the day, the residents used to raise silkworms as a way to generate income.

    The houses' roofs must be replaced every 30 years. The roofs are very steep in order to repel and slough off accumulating snow. Plus, the houses are huge--like 3 to 4 stories tall and would accommodate extended families along with their silkworm cultures up in the attic.

    I am not sure what or how the residents not directly incorporated in the tourism industry do for money. They may commute to larger, nearby towns for jobs.
    Today, the village is awash with tourists and visitors. It is essential that the homes be protected for posterity but also economic reasons. To that end, the village has a crazy fire suppression system. There are essentially geysers set up every 30 m (100 ft) or so. They shoot something like 30 m (100 ft) in the air and are basically an unmanned fire hose. Instead of a knocked over fire hydrant that shoots upward, these shoot directionally towards homes and barns. They do fire drills every week or month, I can't remember, and the residents have to participate. They also do a test run of the geysers every fall to make sure they are working. Additionally, there are fire patrols that consist of regular residents making the rounds twice per day through the village to ensure there are no fire hazards that have unintentionally occurred throughout the day. Serious about some fire prevention in a town of grass homes.

    What was most interesting to me about the story of these villages was that when the residents decided to organize and preserve their village, it was the younger generation that prized this ideal and wanted to protect the traditional houses. The older residents at the time resisted with the argument that they needed to modernize and do away with these high-maintenance houses. I find that interesting because usually it's the kids trying to get the older generations to modernize while the elders try to impart the value of tradition and customs to the younger folk.

    As usual, the bathrooms were weirdly spotless. Also interesting and, according to Jonathan and I, taking things a bit too extreme was the fact that there were NO garbage cans. They just hands down refused to provide anywhere to throw garbage. Not in the restrooms, not in restaurants, no on the streets. Nowhere. And there were gobs of signs explaining that you would not find a trash can because there were none. We were instructed by the signs to carry all our garbage out. That even included diapers! That's where Jonathan and I drew the line. I mean, seriously, you have your baby with you and you're supposed to carry the baby's shit diaper with you the rest of the day in your purse??!! Isn't that lovely getting to sit next to that person on the bus ride back---the person with shit diapers in their bag. A little ridiculous if you ask me. But they didn't ask me and I didn't have an infant with me, thankfully, so I just shoved my plastic waste in my camera bag and moved on.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Not sure why a lot of tree limbs were propped
    1PeacefulJonathan fitting in well--our hotel roomSerious stairs...and we weren't allowed to wear shoes!View of the incredible carpentry1/10 castle replica -had to figure out how to build it.

    Where not to be a carpenter!

    5 juli 2019, Japan ⋅ ⛅ 25 °C

    We saw Japanese castles, gardens, and carpentry handiwork. Jonathan continued to work on not hitting his head everywhere we went, including our hotel rooms.

    And, thanks to jet-lag, both of us have been up before 6am every day since we got to Japan. I love being the early bird, but my body usually revolts. Thank you jet lag! We were at the park by 645am with coffees in hand to enjoy the place all to ourselves. Really the best way to enjoy a Japanese garden. We had to even figure a way to kill time till 9am when the castle opened. lololol. Those of you who know us know that that is like a solar eclipse--you'll see it once in your life.

    Kanazawa Castle was built in tehe 1500s, burnt down several times (of course), and now is a historical treasure. In the latest renovation, the government decided to adhere to the traditional methods of construction, which meant no nails at all in the entire wood structure. The Castle tour, which cost as much as an iced coffee, was very very informative in a "how it's made" type. Less about who lived there (the clans and rulers and such) and more about how in the world you build an entire castle from wood, without nails. Furthermore, the watchtowers in the castle are not square. The angles are 80 degrees and 110 degrees in the neighboring corner. Thus, the "square" is shifted, ever so slightly, so that there was not 1 straight or square cut in the things. It was madness. The archaeologists and historians are not sure why the castle was constructed that way because it makes the carpentry infinitely more difficult. They theorize it was done to allow a better vantage of the area most vulnerable to attack.

    A neat interactive part of the self-guided tour were wooden examples of the different joints that were used in the building so you could manipulate them yourself and see how the dowels, chocks, and shims worked to secure the structure.

    The Japanese garden we visited was incredible. It is considered one of the "3 Great Gardens of Japan". Had no idea when I chose this place! What are the chances of landing at one of the 3 best in a country that prizes its gardens?! Kenroku-en is the name and it was developed alongside the castle for the ruling folks around 1600s. It has been added onto and developed over the centuries. The oldest fountain in Japan, which operates under natural water pressure (gradient from high to low elevation) was created in 1700something. I love that they note the various restorations of the garden, with the first in 1774. lol. Gotta get with the times----renovate renovate renovate. What I found interesting about the garden was that it appeared to incorporate the trees and flora rather than showcasing them, as in say, an English garden. I am no expert, so I found it neat that I noticed how much I felt a part of the garden while walking through it rather than a spectator OF the garden.

    We also explored the old geisha houses and samurai houses that exist in Kanazawa. The narrow streets, alleys really, only wide enough for a bicycle to navigate, wound around the old wooden houses. Japanese houses don't really do it for me. They embody the concept of minimalism. I mean, the old houses are literally a square room. The end. That room is the sleeping area, cooking area, gathering area...whatever you need it to be. The tatami mats (grass mats) laid out look nice, but still very very bare. Just doesn't do it for me I think.

    Tomorrow we're off to one of the main reasons for coming this way in Japan----the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Shirakawago!    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Aerodynamics on display
    First class train cabin!Shinkansen rails3Kanazawa station in 'sleepy' town. LolSerious about no leakage or gooey spillage

    Sleepy Kanazawa

    4 juli 2019, Japan ⋅ 🌧 22 °C

    We left Tokyo on a bullet train headed for Kanazawa, a "sleepy" town on the west coast of Japan. Tokyo is on one side of the big Japanese island, Honshu, and Kanazawa is on the other side. The trains travel around 270-300 km/h or 168-186 mph. The tracks have to be exceptionally level and straight for those sorts of speeds, hence why regular train tracks wouldn't do. They had to engineer new ones for the bullet, or shinkansen, trains. (try saying 'shinkansen' out loud--it's fun!). They rock less and are much smoother than regular trains--i.e. I didn't get motion sick at all despite the fact that Japan apparently insists on using the wimpiest, bare minimum air conditioning.
    In Japan, the first bullet trains began in 1964. Regular trains can use the tracks, but the shinkansens can't get up to their high-speeds on the regular train tracks. So, most stations in cities with the shinkansen stop will have an area and platforms for the bullet trains and a separate area and platforms for the regular trains. If the city has a subway, those trains are in yet another area, down some levels.

    I splurged on the "first class" train tickets because i knew we'd be doing a lot of train travel to explore the country and after all, it is our anniversary/honeymoon/birthday bash so why not let poor Jonathan's kneecaps remain intact for at least one trip? lolol.

    The trains were immaculate. I cannot tell you how old they are because, apparently, Japanese bodies do not actually wear and tear the finishings such as carpet or paint. Yes, the cabins are carpeted. 0_o Unlike Tokyo streets and subways, it is not a cultural no-no to eat and drink on these trains and still--they are so clean. What gives? (Side note--also there are cleaning crews that clean after the train reaches its terminal destination before it heads back out again. When they are finished, the exit the train together, line up, and bow in front of all the waiting passengers).

    We arrived in "sleepy" Kanazawa that afternoon and that's when I discovered this so-called "sleepy" town actually had a population of about 370,000 people. Oh, right. Sleepy. That's what I'd call it. We chose it because we were trying to avoid the tourist cultural mecca of Kyoto that I'd read could be very busy. Kanazawa was supposed to be just as culturally rich with historical and traditional Japanese shrines, temples, and designs---but, you know, "sleepy". lol.

    This is why facts are so great sometimes. Sleepy to a Japanese citizen would be 370k people, but sleepy to me is more like....20k. If I'd known the numbers, I could have applied my adjective appropriate for me. Or the word "clean". I say the trains are clean, but what does that mean? It means that the carpet has no stains or worn spots. There are no dings on the wooden accented armrests and seatbacks. And, of course, not one piece of missed trash.

    Next day is exploring Kanazawa and then on to my faves----UNESCO World Heritage Sites (They're the nerdy best and fun!!).    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Public toilet at a PARK!! Always clean!
    Baby holder in the stalls so baby doesnt have to be on floorToilet controls like spaceship motherboard2Ingenious asshole parker prevention...see raised bars between spotsExtremely extremely well signed---everywhere2You can't get lost if you wanted to

    24 hr Tokyo

    3 juli 2019, Japan ⋅ ⛅ 28 °C

    With the delay in Hall Beach, Tokyo time was cut to a day. Plenty to see one of the busiest, most dense cities in the world right? Sooo, maybe we can't see all the sights, but the take home message is the same. Tokyo is the cleanest, most efficient, easist to navigate and polite city I've ever seen.

    Please allow me to provide examples....
    1. No honking. Ever.

    2. There are maps upon maps upon maps. In the train and subway stations, there are maps near the ticket kiosks, beside the ticket kiosks, on the support pillars in the station, at information booths...all in English of course. And if you just can't read a color-coded, numbered, English map, there are attendants everywhere to help you. Just looking like a tourist will provoke an attendant to attempt to provide travel aid. It is easier to navigate Tokyo than my own city of Vancouver...and I lived there! If you leave the station, not to worry, there are maps outside the station on literally every corner block. They are even in the ground!

    3. No litter. We have seen exactly 1 plastic bag that appeared to be litter. There are 13 MILLION people in this city and we saw a single plastic bag amiss. Mind boggling. What makes it even more unfathomable is that everything is packaged in plastic.....a single sugar cube..in plastic. A hard boiled egg...packaged. A coffee stir stick---plastic again. And there are NO trash cans. Everyone is expected to carry their trash with them and dispose of it at the place they purchased it or at a rare trash can at a train station (cans are only located inside the paid fare area).

    4. No eating/drinking while walking or on subways. This explains the absolute pristine sidewalks and public spaces, including subway trains. They are immaculate because no one carries sticky stuff on and spills it. Lol.

    5. The toilets and bathrooms are immaculate and over the top technological. Warmed seats, privacy music, various water jet selections to cleanse, and automatic lids. Everything I've ever heard about Japanese toilets is true and then some. Lol.

    6. Signs are everywhere about being aware and considerate of other people around you. On the subway and trains, they ask that you make sure your earphone noise doesn't 'leak' out and bother other patrons. Earphone leakage!!! Are you kidding me?! We can't get folks to just USE earphones. Lol. Keyboard noise from computer work can be annoying so please keep that in mind and work to lower it. !!! Stuff like that.

    It has been an eye-opening experience. No wonder people like traveling here. It's like a freakin spa retreat.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    2Ironically--largest NORAD radar communication site in Hall Beach.
    But no cell service....lololol1The original DEW line sites built in the Cold WarThe lame duck plane & all of the airport!Built to warn of Russian attacks...US/Canada joint defense3Blurbs about the DEW line sites.

    Hamstrung in Hall Beach

    29 juni 2019, Canada ⋅ ⛅ 11 °C

    A little tune and scenery change. Rather than enjoy the summer in Igloolik, I figured why not head to a semi-tropical location in the midst of their summer, hot and humid rainy season?!! Yea!

    Off to Japan! But first, I had to escape Hall Beach.....

    The town 15 min by plane away from Igloolik managed to derail an entire vacation plan.

    The weather couldn't have been more beautiful, but the Arctic always finds a way to show you that you are not in control.

    We blew a tire on landing in Hall Beach. I'll let you guess if the airline company stocks replacement tires in the sprawling megalopolis of 800 residents in Hall Beach.

    Nope.

    The closest tire was in Iqaluit. A 3-4 hr charter flight away....depending on winds. ....if there was a charterable plane available....

    But first the flight crew had to notify their headquarters of the situation and get that tire ball rolling. Shouldn't be a problem....oh wait, Hall Beach was under a scheduled power outage. That's right, no power at the airport. No phone, no computer. They had to call via sat phone.

    Also, a neat feature of Hall Beach is that it does not have cell service or wifi. So there we were, in a non-powered airport with no cell service or internet, no food, and no way to mitigate downstream travel impacts.....like a connection to Tokyo.

    I made it 15 min from Igloolik before the Arctic exacted her revenge.

    We sat on hard plastic chairs for 7 hrs.

    They fed us the ham sandwiches they had on board the plane. Then, about 6 hours later, the crew was able to secure pizza from the local co-op with some 10 month old expired pineapple juice.

    Coffee was also made about 2.5 hours into the retreat because the power was restored. Power also meant you could go to the restroom and see!

    Of course all my connections were missed but I was worried about the next day Tokyo flight....that connection was going to be missed too. How could I reschedule from Hall Beach? Was it even possible to change the flight on such short notice? Would there be seats available on the following day's flight? Would they be 6 million dollars?! All of this I pondered while enjoying my plastic molded seat.

    The lack of control is so much like traveling in a 3rd world/developing country. I now believe my travels have not been to enhance empathy and understanding of us as humans, but rather to simply understand and chill when your whole vacation is blown to smithereens by a flat tire. Lolol. What can you do?

    I decided to ask if I could use the airport phone when the power returned. They said yes. I could not access my email to locate my Tokyo reservation. I called Jonathan to get the reservation code and then called the airline while the flight crew sat nearby listening to my little saga unfold.

    Amazingly, the airline had seats the next day, albeit on an itinerary that was 7 hrs longer than the original, but hey!

    I finally escaped Hall Beach and made it to the capital of Nunavut, Iqaluit, at about 7 pm that evening.....just about the time I was supposed to arrive in Vancouver, some 4,000 km away.

    The silver lining? A latte in Iqaluit before my departure the next day!

    And, only 3 days traveling to finally reach Tokyo! Wheeee!    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Best natural reaction to driving skidoo on land! lololollolololol1expansive! Note the water being thrown up by skidoo3fishing

    Madness! The adventure of Mogg Bay

    15 juni 2019, Canada ⋅ ⛅ 11 °C

    Last weekend I had quite the adventure. It all started as a little "fishing outing"...at least that's what I was told. Twelve hours and numerous thoughts of, "WTF?!" and "this is normal, right?" later, I returned home exhausted and blown away by the beauty of my surroundings.

    A colleague/friend's parents came to visit and, as any good host would do, you want to show them a good time. In Igloolik and the Arctic, this time of year means getting out on the sea ice. But, just a piddly little walk or bike ride wouldn't do. Oh no. They went all out and hired a local guide to take them to a popular local fishing and goose-egg picking area. Seems reasonable enough....

    ...except that we've been having lots of rain...which sits on top of the ice until it drains through the cracks and seal holes in the ice. In order get to our destination, called Mogg Bay, we needed to travel across this water-bound ice for about 45 min to 1 hr. I was riding in the qamatik and let me tell you about the suspension on a wooden sled. The suspension is right about L1-5 in your spine. Or, if you're lucky enough to stand up, the knee joints do a great job absorbing the impact of qamatik landing after launching off an unmelted island of snow on the water-bound ice. I learned that if I got on my hands and knees inside the qamatik, I could absorb the cracking, brain-hurting landings with my elbows, wrists, shoulders and hips, rather than my vertebrae having all the fun. The force was so great, I could not help but laugh. Laugh in sheer terror that this wooden box sled thingy was going to split apart around me and break my back. Who does the stress tests on these things? How many banging landings can they take before no more? You know what I think? I think we learn that number when the thing splits apart around you while you're riding in it. lol. The one good thing about riding in the qamatik is that it is longer than a skidoo. Why does that matter you say? Welp, there are cracks in the ice you see. Leads. The ice going about its annual pattern of melting as the summer progresses. It's all fine and dandy if you can speed fast enough in a skidoo to cross the crevasses, but if you don't, well..... The qamatik, on the other hand, glides right over those cracks and you barely feel a thing---except of course your heart in your throat as you see the murky dark depths of the sea below the ice. The other bonus is that if, for some reason, our guide miscalculated and his snowmobile did not make it across a crack, we would see him fall through the ice. That would give us a precious second or two to jump out of the qamatik. Yep, typical Saturday out on the town right? hahaha. Luckily for me, we made it to our first fishing spot.

    I can't describe the views on the ride out--the sky is bigger than anything I've ever seen. It's like the view of the sky and clouds from a plane window, but in this case, you feel you are right there in that sky and land. It seems infinite. The horizon, where the sky meets the sea ice, is indistinguishable giving one even more feelings of expansiveness. The colors are brilliant. Caribbean in their hues. The air is the purest you've ever breathed. There is not a one scent that you can note. It is everything and nothing all around you.

    Our first fishing stop was not too successful and so our guide suggested we go to another place. Sure thing we said. What we didn't realize was that the "other place" was about 10-20 km away over LAND. land. We were on snowmobiles. Had just driven the better part of an hour across sea ice. Now, we were going to go on an overland commute? The snowmobile drivers looked at each other in disbelief, but they jumped on and did what they were told by our guide. It was a hilarious sight and one I did not know snowmobiles were capable of. I fully expected a ski to be snapped off by one of the tundra boulders or one of the many many rocks we were "skidooing" over on rocky beaches to sheer some important tie rod or something. Just bonkers.

    Finally, we made it to the 2nd fishing and goosing location. There were tons of birds. I got to eat a freshly boiled snow goose egg. It was huge, but tasty! Very mild like a chicken egg. Might not even be able to tell the difference if you were blindfolded. We spent many hours there fishing and lounging and enjoying the day. The "day" can become very long since the sun never sets. You lose sense of time. Our guide, Simon, caught 5 Arctic char, shot two geese, and got about 7-8 eggs. So, overall, a productive day. I shot lots of pictures for the family as my contribution to being allowed along.

    We started heading back and it was an epic trip back because there was even MORE water on the ice. The skidoos were so waterlogged that they were struggling to get traction on the ice under the water. In the qamatik, we actually almost came to complete stops as the pulling skidoo struggled to pull us in that deep water. Everyone was fully soaked. Again, I did not know snowmobiles were also boats. lolol.

    It turns out that snowmobiles are all-terrain universal vehicles. lolol.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    23

    Back on the ice and back to the books

    9 juni 2019, Canada ⋅ ⛅ 3 °C

    More melting means time to hit the sea ice on the Fat bike! Yea! First foray out today and only almost crashed once when I didn’t see a foot-wide crack in the ice. That was jarring.

    It is still freaky and disconcerting to pedal out on the ice. However, I wasn’t as afraid this year as last year, so I suppose one would get used to it and take it for granted….like all things.

    I didn’t ride too long because I learned that if you bike a certain direction you will bounce yourself to death and my butt is not into those bike seats anyways, let alone BOUNCING on them. No thanks. If I rode basically parallel to the shore, the ride was much smoother. I am no ice expert, but I would say that it has to do with the ridges formed as the ice formed with the wind.

    I got some pics and decided to give my butt a rest. But first I had one more stop to make. The LIBRARY! That’s right, I finally found it! It was an epic journey to locate this 21st century speakeasy. I had tried multiple times before, but failed. Figuring out the location or hours of things here is much like becoming a detective. First you canvass the area looking for signs or notices. None exist in Igloolik. There are no markings on ANY buildings except the grocery stores. Churches are smart---they put a cross on top. Easy. Next you look online. Nope. No set websites for any services here in Igloolik, like the Arena, or Headstart, or the Library. Then you start interviewing people…just like a cop. “Hey, you seen a library around here? I heard there is one but don’t know where it is.” You get tidbits of info like, “Oh yeah, it’s in the elementary school.” Cool.

    “Does that mean it’s only open during school hours?”

    “I don’t know.”

    I went to the elementary school and always the doors were locked. There were no signs (remember, no signs here. In fact, the elementary school entrance isn’t even labeled…I just assumed it was the double doors).

    On to the next interviewee. So it goes until finally I found someone who had actually BEEN there! Like, in person, flesh and blood. They swore it was real and so I knew I only had to try harder to find it. I was determined now. I pumped them for when they went and where exactly. True to form, they couldn’t exactly tell me other than it was in the elementary school.

    “Did you use the front doors?”

    “I don’t know. I went from inside the building so I don’t know where I was.”

    Gah, useless.

    I vowed to try every damn door on the building until someone either shooed me away or I was successful.

    On a Saturday, I tried 7 doors that were all locked. I was at the last 2 to try. They looked like they went into a side part of the building. They looked abandoned. One opened and there inside, was the library room! I was so stoked.

    I got a library card and everything. Checked out 3 books that day and was so happy to hold a real book in my hands again instead of just being the creeper in the airport bookstores fondling the books but never buying because I have no room.

    So back to today, I went by the library to return the books I had borrowed and was greeted by a wholly unfriendly dog that was staked out at the top of the steps like a sentry with very sharp teeth. I had no desire to have my face bitten off so I gently tugged her leash to see if she would submit. She did not. She leapt up and started furiously barking. I was happy with this because I knew this would attract the attention of her owner and maybe they would come out and get ahold of Cujo.

    The owner did hear the dog who was inaccurately named Daisy. She never did stop barking at me. But, I got my books returned and pedaled on back home to relax.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Do you see the seal among the refuse?
    There he is! Look at that thing!Flooding makes for fun...till it freezes your bikeLots of snow meltFresh food! True Farm (Sea) to Table!

    Do you Seal what I See?

    8 juni 2019, Canada ⋅ ⛅ 2 °C

    The summer melt is full upon us here in Igoolik and with it brings much surprises at what lay underneath that obscuring blanket of snow for 8 months. Lots of pooled water that the kids absolutely love. Sometimes makes getting from your front door to some dry land a bit tricky. Rubber boot season.
    Where the snow is gone and the water is gone, we’re left with mostly trash underneath, unfortunately. The snow acts a great eraser. The 8 months of winter creates a giant layer cake with snow layers alternating with trash layers. It’s extremely effective. During the winter, the town landscape appears pristine. The ugly reality of non-degrading objects becomes painfully obvious at this time of year. I think the contrast between the impossible cleanliness the snow imparts and the accumulation of 8 months of dumping is what makes the change seem so stark. There is everything from dirty diapers to snowmobile parts. From the banal cigarette butts to the shocking dog carcasses. My pictures on here show a full seal just chilling in the trash. Looks perfectly edible to me. Not sure why it was there. It’s like the curtain got pulled back from the Wizard.
    Every year the community organizes a clean-up and there is good participation. Last year, the person that collected the most cigarette butts received quite a monetary reward—can’t remember how much, but it was probably pretty good because the monetary rewards/incentives here are usually pretty darn good. Unfortunately, the clean-up has to wait until the snow has all melted and the pooling lakes and mud have dried.
    This isn’t aimed at being negative about the town. It is a fact. There are no municipal services that clean the streets or remove general waste and garbage other than what is in the plywood garbage bins outside each house. In a place where you can’t go to the local home hardware store or Ski-Doo parts store to get things, many people’s land surrounding their home looks like a junk yard. Broken and discarded objects of any type you can imagine are there, just waiting for the time that a throttle cable is needed or a 2 inch hex head bolt. You never know.
    It makes me think of 2 things: 1. The unsung work of municipal/city works that keep your cities and neighborhoods looking clean is like a mother running the household behind the scenes making sure everything runs smoothly without ever getting the credit she deserves. And 2. The impact humans have on the landscape when we live in a place. I had a coworker that went to Myanmar during the Rohingya refugee crisis. He went there not to provide aid to the people or help the people live, but to assess the dramatic impact the almost instantaneous flood of 400,000 people had into an area with no infrastructure. The refugees had to dig latrines and wells. They dug them very close to one another because, well, that is convenient and there are no codes/bylaws. The refugees need fuel to cook with and heat their shacks with so they cut the surrounding forest to nothing. Mudslides ensued---Onto the refugee camps. It was an aspect of human inhabitation that I never really paid much attention to, and definitely not one I thought about in terms of an unplanned, inundation of people into an area.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Ice ridges formed by pressure from moving sheets
    Time to turn back.2Snowmelt reveals the brilliant blue of the iceBroken, jagged ice. Lots of places for seal lairsI think this coat is slimming.Fueling up

    Flying over ice

    30 maart 2019, Canada ⋅ ☀️ -1 °C

    This spring brought another exciting opportunity for me. I got to head West to work out over the sea ice of the Amundsen Gulf. I've not done much out on the sea ice so all the things the pilots and other, more experienced folks, take for granted was new to me.

    When flying, one takes some things quite for granted. For example, as a passenger on a jet, you don't often think about the fuel or calculations being made to make sure your plane has enough full, but not too much, to make it to its destination. Then, you expect that all the weather systems are well in hand and it's all safe to go when they herd you down the jet bridge. You don't have to worry too much about the loo, because 99% of the time, voila!, one is there on the plane for you! Even stocked with toilet paper most times. You may not even think of the luxury of having at least two engines. That's a real treat because if one fails, the pilot can typically land the bird safely. All while you're sipping your ginger ale (which I believe must have their highest consumption on planes cause let's be honest...who drinks ginger ale when they're NOT on a plane. No one..), someone somewhere is tracking your little dot moving across the sky.

    Enter helicopter flying in the Arctic.
    Single engine. In this case, every morning and every night, the pilot checked that engine for us all. He put the machine to bed by covering up the engine with a blanket so that it didn't freeze and get ice inside which would down us. Cold temps require a filter be on all the engines to prevent ice crystals in the fuel from entering the engine and causing failure.

    Then, there's the weather. Oh, the weather. There are no weather stations or radar reports for these areas. There is only, if you're lucky, some eyes-on-the-ground reporting from community airports sometimes hundreds of miles away. There are forecasts, but without the weather stations to inform the forecasting, their predictions are general and often not reliable (at least compared to south of the Arctic). There are apps that we use to look at winds around the area because winds can change drastically from one area to the next.....all of which we fly in. Winds can bring fog rushing in if there is open water. On the sea ice, there are often no distinguishing features for a pilot to use to navigate, such as trees, rocks, outcroppings, or buildings. Nothing. It's flat. And white. And when it's cloudy or foggy, it's flat white. Which is what will make your backside squeeze really tight while you stay quiet and cool realizing that if you crash, it will likely be fast and hard so it's all good.

    Fuel you ask? Oh that's brought in by plane to coordinates provided by the pilot or researcher weeks or months before. How do you know it's actually there, exactly where the plane company said they'd unloaded your helicopter lifeblood? Oh, cause they told you so. Trust them, right?? You don't truly know until you fly over and see for yourself. There are no refueling stations. Just 55 gallon drums of fuel sitting on the tundra at some coordinate for you to find and use. Because time is money, we don't fly in to these locations to fuel with an hour left of fuel on board. No, the pilot leaves himself/herself some wiggle room, but not much, to search for the fuel and land. So, when we can't find it, shit gets real tense real quick. Did I mention the fuel pump has both a water filter and particulate filter to make sure that no water, which may have leaked into a compromised drum, or particulates, get into the helicopter engine? Water in an working engine = engine stops working. (remember, we only have one engine...and we're in the arctic in polar bear country.....no one wants water in their fuel!).

    We are actually quite lucky and privileged in recent years to benefit from amazing GPS navigation technologies. Most recently, within the last 2-4 years, the Garmin inReach devices have hit the market. I think they have revolutionized the game. Anywhere, anytime, you can message anyone in the world. Those on the outside world, tracking our helicopter and the weather, can send messages alerting us to major weather situations that we may need to be aware of. This is critical because before, there was some sat phone usage, but you had to call from a phone and they are very difficult and cumbersome to use while flying. Additionally, every time you send a message on the InReach, it attaches your location. Thus, we have the helicopter's on-board GPS signal and the InReach device to help make sure we are located if there is an emergency. Having multiple ways to send distress signals brings great peace of mind. We also have survival gear in the helicopter. Sometimes you just can't get through the weather and you have to wait it out. I haven't had to do this, but most pilots, have at some point, had to land and wait for better weather. You want to be prepared.

    After all of that, and making sure all the safety equipment is working, the pilot has to keep us safe while flying for hours and hours per day. Every landing on uneven snowy surfaces where snow blows up and obscures his vision. Every landing on ice to pick up data. And every chase, extremely low to the ground, to snag a sample from an animal. What could possibly go wrong?    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    1I don't understand how people wear glasses. Do my nostrils just send air up to my eyes?Student intern's body is small in giant Arctic attire1Backpacks should be fairly blowing snow proof. Good thermos is essential.Sun through my window ladies and gentlemen!

    Greasy bones mess up labeling

    9 maart 2019, Canada ⋅ ☀️ -28 °C

    Before we begin, please allow me to share the good news that my toilet and plumbing have been working with perfection since I last wrote. Yep, turns out getting to the cause of a problem rather than just treating the symptom gets you a consistently flushing toilet!

    Currently at work, there is actually almost a full complement of staff in our group. This is practically unprecedented. It has been fantastic for allowing the jobs and tasks to be done properly. It also has allowed me time to try and work backwards and try to address some of the shambles. It's clear that previous staff were doing their best, but with limited capacity, it is not physically possible to do the job fully. We all know this. Put out the fire and leave the building a wreck.

    Once such shamble relates to bacula. Improperly boiled penis bones, like any bone, seeps oil and grease over time. All those bones at the museums we've all seen are the product of meticulous, tedious boiling/macerating/cleaning/etc. It's not an easy task. So yesterday, I walk in and pull out a big plastic bag of greasy bacula from the "f**cked up" box. Yes, we have a box for all the f**k ups no one knows what to do with. I ask what the deal is and I'm told that the markings identifying the individual bear that the bone belongs to was not properly written on the baculum and thus, got smudged off with the ensuing greasiness. Now, the task is to take each of these bacula and examine them under a microscope to see if we can make out any faint, etched ID marks. Huh. That is what my life is now? Taking greasy penis bones and examining them under microscopes. Cool.

    You just never know what type of "problems" have to be solved here.

    For the last couple months, we've had a student intern. She is in college for biotechnology and it is solely designed to teach students all lab procedures, equipment, and assays so they can go get a job in a lab anywhere doing most anything. She wanted to come North and cut up teeth to try and age animals. Part of her work has been helping me establish a repeatable, understandable process for inventorying extra teeth. Typically, only 1 tooth is necessary to get an age. But, we ask for 2 because sometimes 1 breaks, etc. Teeth also have dental ligament tissue surrounding them that we've purposefully left on. This is because if an animal is harvested but there is no tissue available to run DNA for identity, the dental ligament could work. So, our student has been pulling off hundreds of old, sometimes rotted, tooth ligament tissue from individual teeth. I walk in the lab and it smells of death. She looks up and grins with a pair of pliers in one hand. "This is SO fun!" she exclaims. "But, I think I have rotted tissue on my sweater cause it sometimes flicks off. But that's okay!"
    Huh. Okay cool. I walk out again.

    Rotted teeth tissue. Greasy bones. I think I'll go run stats.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger

    Hot showers and flushing toilets!

    3 maart 2019, Canada ⋅ ☀️ -21 °C

    I returned from more travel to find that I finally had a toilet that flushed more than twice before overflowing! Can you believe it?! I couldn't either.

    What happened was I lost my marbles on February 14th. I had been told twice, over the phone, that the house was ready and all was good. I stayed late at work and got home ready to pee. Alas, it was not to be. And, then. I lost it...just a little bit. I called the after hours line and when they told me they would be by to check tomorrow, that's when I, in a slightly hysterical, breaking voice, shrilled that I hadn't had a toilet working for more than 3 days out of 20 and this had been going on since January 6th!! He said he would ask his boss and let me know. To which I replied, "How?! How will you let me know?!
    Do you have my phone number? Do you know my name?! You won't let me know! I know how this works!...." The line got cut off, mercifully---for the poor guy on the other end. Not to worry though, I just gave him 10 minutes to call his boss and then I called the after hours emergency line again. And, this time, the boss was listening in.

    The boss sent the after-hours call guy over here. He was clearly not pleased to be at my home dealing with this at 730pm. He was banging into doors with his equipment. He said not one word to me. (because I'm the one causing work for him rather than them fixing it properly over a month ago. Yep, I'm the bad guy.) He went to work thawing the toilet line, like they've done so many times in the past. I am not sure at what point the thought of, "Hmmmm, this exact problem keeps happening with alarming frequency. I wonder WHY. Perhaps there is a CAUSE for the freezing toilet pipe and sewage tank besides the cold weather since EVERY other house endures cold weather too without having a sewage/toilet freeze up every couple of days". I am not sure when or if that thought was ever had during the course of these workers coming into my house over and over and over again.

    The boss showed up on February 14th though and he saw my frustration. I explained I didn't have any of these problems last year. There MUST be something causing this to happen. None of it made any sense to me.

    He goes into the attic and almost immediately asks down to the worker, "Peter, did you check if this valve was working? Was it seized before?" Seized, what? I call up, "um, what is this seized valve for?" He explains that this valve opens and closes in response to a thermostat reading from the sewage tank. When the temp falls below a threshold, the valve opens and the warm glycol runs through the heating tube trace around the sewage tank to keep it thawed. When the sewage tank temp rises, the valve shuts off. I asked, "So, this valve, huh. It's probably not seized in the Open position is it?" "Nope", he confirms.

    Hmmmmmm.......so you're telling me there is a thermostat and valves that control whether the heat trace is working to keep the sewage tank thawed.

    Are we all aliens here? Does anyone not remember the THREE times you've had to THAW my completely frozen sewage tank?

    No one thought this was weird that the sewage tank was freezing over and over and over. Nope, they just kept thawing it out and telling me all was fixed.

    The boss replaced TWO (yes, there are actually two valves up there controlling this and one was completely seized and the other was not working great) valves. Thawed the toilet line and they both left around 10pm that night.

    I returned after a week away and guess what, the toilet was STILL WORKING!! Hmmmmmm......I guess when you actually look at the cause and try to fix that, outcomes are better. #sigh #bigfreakingsigh

    I've been back a full week and I haven't had one plumbing problem.

    Even better, they turned on, or fixed, our second boiler. I didn't know we had two boilers. I have been dealing with lukewarm showers for about 8-9 months now. Since last summer. The water just wouldn't heat up. You turn it up to max and it was warm enough to stand in, but after about 1 min, you would start to feel chilled and my showers would end with me covered in chill bumps. I started showering at night so I could get into bed quickly and warm up. It didn't get hot enough to even steam up the mirror in the bathroom. I have been taking very short showers.

    I come back from travel and discover they've turned on/fixed the 2nd boiler and it is divine! The water gets so hot!

    That's the happy ending....I have a hot shower AND working plumbing again! Things are looking up! lol    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    1One bag. At least there is a lid
    1Duct tape. They don't even give unbroken buckets.Sneaking a shower at an out-of-town friend's house

    Toilet travails

    11 februari 2019, Canada ⋅ ⛅ -33 °C

    It's been a while since I posted and quite frankly, it's because I've been in a sour mood. Why, you wonder? Well, dear readers, allow me to oblige you....

    Toilet troubles.

    That's why.

    Nothing will make me want to leave, quit, fight, burn the house down more than a consistent, unresolved, non-functioning sewer system.

    It started back in January shortly after the New Year. January 6th to be precise. I knew something was odd before then because the toilet wasn't flushing normally. Then, no flush. Frozen. I left the 9th with a toilet that still wasn't functioning.

    I returned on the 21st to a semi-functioning toilet. One that would burble, gurgle, and erupt like a geyser upon flushing. Yep, that's neat. But don't worry, I was told this was normal because they removed a vent pipe. Again, that's neat.

    Typically, the pipes here have a heat trace line that runs alongside them then a thick layer of insulation around them both. Finally, the pipes and insulation are boxed in by plywood. Well, when they "fixed" my pipes, they didn't bother to reinsulate or box the pipes back in. I bet you can guess what happened next!

    Pipes stopped working at all a few days after I returned on the 21st. I did not have functioning toilet until January 31st. It was a damn damn good thing they started working that day because at 5am in the morning, I awoke with a fierce stomach virus. It was brutal. My body expelled all its stomach and intestinal contents violently until there was nothing but bare bags and tubes of organs inside. I have never been so grateful for a functioning toilet as then and I was so scared every time I'd hurl from one end or the other that that flush would be the toilet's last.

    The toilet worked for Feb 1 and 2. I left the morning of the 3rd, still nursing a wounded digestive system (for supreme fun--have a stomach virus and take 4 flights back to back to back to back from Igloolik to Edmonton for 12 hours with no time to stop at an airport bathroom).

    I have just returned from Edmonton last night. I got two flushes in. The third failed. I have no working toilet again. Despite a call to the emergency line, no one came today from the Housing Corp, whose responsibility it is to keep these units working. They didn't call, they didn't leave a note, nothing. Nothing.

    I may burn the whole place down.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    So much to do in one day!
    Hundreds of turkeysAll the toys separated by age grpStandard coats-black, big, utilitarian

    How not to volunteer

    6 januari 2019, Canada ⋅ 🌬 -27 °C

    Christmas was surprisingly tolerable by myself, largely because I wasn't by myself. My family and friends made sure of that! I spent a lot of time on the phone and messaging while also bee-bopping to various gatherings at other people's houses that decided to stay through the holidays.
    I also saw a post on the town's facebook page asking for volunteers to help put together the food and toy hampers for needy families and children on Christmas Eve. I thought, "that will be a perfect way to congratulate myself for being a great and caring human while investing little to no time. Perfect!" So, on Christmas Eve I showed up at the elementary gym at the facebook-indicated time and discovered that my little idea of showing up for, ummmm, maybe a half-hour, was sorely wrong.
    There was a TON of stuff that needed to be sorted and arranged and prepared into the gift bags for each of the 900 children on a list that the organizers had. 0_o 900?! The town's population is only 1,500! Holy moly. After about 3 hours of doing more activity than I've done in months, I left to have lunch. When I returned, the food had arrived which was donated by private individuals, companies and groups. Four hundred 20 lb turkeys. Enough so every household in Igloolik could have a turkey dinner. Do you know what 400 turkeys looks like laid out in a school gym? We were like the images you see of volunteers passing sandbags to shore up homes and towns against rising floodwaters. Potatoes were unloaded off pickup trucks in 50lb bags. Turkeys were offloaded in 60-80 lb boxes. Stuffing, cranberry sauce, and rice came in. It was incredible. When I stopped to think about it, it became more incredible given our location.
    The food drive is sponsored by a not-for-profit organization called "Feed Nunavut". Their objective is to ease food insecurity in the North. Surveys find that a full 70% of Northern families skip a meal at least once per month. This organization spotlights every year a few projects to focus donations on for folks wanting to do that sort of thing. Igloolik's holiday food and toy drive is one such project. Most of the toys and gifts came from Southern Canada donations and even a few United States donations as well. But what is impressive is that for the food, people give money and then someone here in Igloolik has to figure out how to buy the food in Ottawa, get it shipped here, pick it up at the airport, store it somewhere, and then bring it to the gym. This is a feat anywhere, but in Igloolik!! Even more so. A company started here in Igloolik, Arctic Fresh, donated their money, time, and resources. They bought the turkeys at cost in Ottawa and stored them in their warehouse in Ottawa. Then, the airlines of Canadian North and First Air (not sure which one donated) donated, or heavily discounted the freight up here. I mean, can you imagine the cost to ship 8,000 lbs of turkeys? It costs $500 to ship 100lbs down south.
    More volunteers met the freight at the airport and unloaded all those potatoes, turkeys, stuffing, etc, by hand. BY HAND. Then, stored it and unloaded it again at the gym where volunteers started putting together the fixins for the turkey dinner. They laid out a turkey every 1-2ft in the gym and then a bag of potatoes which had been prepared by the volunteers divvying up the larger 50lb bags of potatoes. Stuffing and other fixings came next. Finally, there were supposed to be mandarin oranges.
    Ah, the mandarin oranges....such a nice gesture.....if they hadn't been right at their expiration and rotten! One of the volunteers discovered that many of the donated boxes of mandarins were terribly rotten, to the point that the boxes were sometimes leaking putrefied orange juice. Someone in charge made the decision that we could not, in good conscience, give these rotten things to people. So, we had to go through, by hand, every single box and separate the good oranges from the bad. Wow. Tedious. Let me offer some unsolicited advice: when volunteering, do not open the box of oranges. Assume they are good and be secure in your altruism and holiness. Otherwise, you will spend hours hunkered over fruit trying to not put your fingers through one more rotten orange and sneeze from the aerosolizing mold.
    Finally, all the dinners had to be bagged or boxed for delivery. The hamlet agreed to allow their school bus to be driven around for deliveries and the school bus driver volunteered to spend his Christmas Eve driving around house to house.
    It was impressive to see all the work and time that went into the whole operation. I gave up the ghost at 5:30pm and returned home with achy feet and a very tired back. I was sore for 3 days. I laughed at my grand plan to feel good about myself backfiring when I actually had to work. I should have just donated money and stayed on the couch. That's a smarter move. That's your second lesson ladies and gentlemen. First lesson is: no mandarin oranges. Second: write a check.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Realizing he's on sea ice. Walking.
    Going for a ride...further out on sea iceGot good lights right outside the houseChillin on porch w/northern lights. No big dealAnd, like that, he's leavingLast passengers. Cold and windy.

    An actual Visitor---A human one!

    8 december 2018, Canada ⋅ ⛅ -26 °C

    Last week I had the great privilege of hosting my first visitor to Igloolik. My cousin, who was born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia, where peaches and pecans sell on the side of the road, braved the cold and Journeyed to the North. I capitalize "journey" because as anyone that has traveled further north than Iqaluit knows, it is always a Journey with a capital J. lol.

    After traveling from Atlanta to Ottawa by way of Philadelphia and Toronto, he spent the night at the airport and then got the dismaying news that he would be spending an extra day in Ottawa. The jet had a dent in it. Apparently. Boeing said it was too big to fly safely. So, my cousin got his bag, hotel voucher, and left the airport. He put on his tourist hat and ventured to Parliament Hill in Ottawa and joined a tour to learn about Canadian governance and history. He had his first shawarma, a delicious wrap not unlike a gyro but yummier that originates from Lebanon. If you like garlic, you will like shawarma! He learned about the canal that runs through Ottawa and freezes in the winter providing an ice rink for all to enjoy.

    The next day, he tried again and experienced his first flight in which you walk out onto the tarmac, to board the plane...from the back. The front of the jet coming from Ottawa to Iqaluit is for cargo. The lack of roads or rail leaves only the planes to bring everything that is necessary to support thousands of people. Once in Iqaluit, he once again, walked across the tarmac to the 1-yr old new airport. There, he managed to not get lost in the 6 whole gates of the airport. The final leg of the journey is on a twin prop, 18 passenger plane sitting out on the tarmac.

    He boarded the plane that had been sitting, unheated on the tarmac for hours, and learned how cold a plane can get! Turns out it's a metal tube! Two hours later, a brief stopover in Hall Beach allowed him to see a town even smaller than Igloolik. Hall Beach is our neighbor with 800 residents that is reachable by skidoo during the winter on the sea ice with a 1.5-2hr ride. My cousin saw the one-room airport with baggage carousel that is a sheet of metal angled down so when the airline employee shoves the bags through a baggage door, the bags slide down the metal slide.

    Then, it was short 15 min flight to Igloolik. I picked him up and showed him the town which he remarked seemed bigger than he expected. Over the next days, we walked and experienced the shock and awe of grocery prices, of walking on sea ice, of realizing the sun was not going to crest over the horizon.

    He saw me gather and prepare dinner at 3pm because it felt later. He had his eyelashes frozen and frosted all of his clothing. He got to shovel snow for the first time as we unburied the qamatik that was going to be pulled behind a skidoo so we could out for a ride around the land. It turned out to be too windy for a good ride, so my cousin got his own personal chauffeured ride on the back of a friend's skidoo.

    He got to buy a local carved narwhal made from caribou antler. Great find since he'd been wanting one of those. He got to visit my work and see animal specimens that he may never get (or want) to see again. lol.

    We played bingo over the radio and lost. We went to a party and he wowed everyone with his knowledge of Nunavut and Inuktitut. I had no idea how he knew all that he did. He said he just read the magazines and talked to the people next to him on the plane. I mean, he came in rattling off towns like Pangnirtung and Qikiqtarjuaq while explained the pronunciation of Inuktitut letters. It was hilarious.

    We threw hot water in the air and watched it vaporize. We did this particular exercise at least 5 times. We saw great Northern Lights and he was shocked to learn (as we all are) that I live too far north for the best Northern Lights. (I personally think that is one of the best things to say to convey to someone just how far north Igloolik is----"well, to see the Northern Lights, we have to look South." bahahaha)

    He got to feel -40 with the windchill...as we stood out there trying to take pictures of those Northern Lights. He quickly shifted to choosing the parka when the windchills got past -35C. He remarked as well that with the proper clothes, it is not bad. It is only bad for long periods of time or for exposed skin----it's not that my hands haven't been cold before---it just usually takes longer than 10 seconds.

    I am so lucky to have been able to share this with my family. A trip like this is not feasible for most and to have the stars align so that he could come was very cool.

    And of course the Journey couldn't be complete without a little leaving drama. His exit flight out of Igloolik was cancelled 5 days in advance. The auxiliary power unit that starts the planes after they've shut down in cold temps broke in the town north of us. Thus, no plane could leave there. My cousin's flights were canceled for 4 days. I guess that's the time it takes to get a replacement sent up. Rather than bank on the fact that they might or might not get the power unit replaced, I immediately booked him on the only other airline that serves here (though those airlines just merged a few months ago so after January, we will only have one airline----what could go wrong---nothing bad gonna happen with that situation. Sigh). We drove to the airport in somewhat foggy conditions not knowing if the plane would make it out. The plane was fully booked. They landed in Igloolik and my cousin safely left in a fuzzy, dusky morning.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Diamond knives. Snow billowing in heli
    Inside a snowglobe. I can't do this.Belly dragging the groundUnimaginable beauty1This is the payoff. This.

    "I'm not tough enough for this."

    28 november 2018, Canada ⋅ 🌙 -12 °C

    Click, click, click, broooooooouuuuuuuhhh. The sound of the helicopter’s turbine engine spooling up and starting. Then, the vibrations begin as the rotors slowly start to gain speed and rock the machine. My head begins to involuntarily shake with the vibrating machine. My nose crinkles as the Jet fuel exhaust is pushed into the cabin by the spinning rotors. We slowly rise and spin off into the empty expanse. It will be 10 hours before we land here again. We will spend the day tracking the coastline next to 3000 ft cliffs looking for polar bears. We will ascend to the tops of these cliffs and scream across the scratched surface of this moonscape looking for bears. We will tuck into craggy fjords, searching for bears. We will survey the water around the rocks, searching for swimmers. Our heads will not stop moving the entire day. We will not talk. We will be concentrating.
    Today, I’m in the back of the helicopter watching the process of bear sampling. The entire door of the helicopter slides open so that the biologist can take the shot that will result in a tiny piece of skin being extracted with the bear being none the wiser. Winter is coming early this year and there has been too much snow already. On this day, the sun is blinding and the winds are calm. There are bears everywhere. There are too many to keep track of. Each time we chase one over a ridge, more come into view. It is like they are multiplying. There are carcasses nearby drawing them in to feed. When the helicopter draws down to allow for a shot, the soft, fresh, powdery snow billows up from the rotor wash, creating instant whiteout blizzard conditions. The pilot is blind; he cannot see bear or land. He pulls up hard and fast out of the cloud of white. The quickness with which the helicopter becomes completely surrounded by white-out conditions because of the blown snow is scary. He cannot fly in this.
    We cannot see. He tries driving the bear onto higher points of rock that have been windswept of their snow. The snow flies all around and swirls into the helicopter, sending icy currents of air and snow crystals down my neck and up my back. My hands are becoming numb inside my gloves. I look at the other biologist holding, bare-handed, the cold steel gun outside the helicopter and cringe. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this. I'm not tough enough. All I can think about is how bad my frozen toes hurt and the painful blasting cold ice crystals on my face. We swirl down again to try once more for a shot. The snow blows. The cold is unrelenting. It doesn’t stop. There is no escape. I just sit and record the data shouted out with my increasingly numb fingers. I try to reload the gun’s magazines, fumbling with the small charges because of my reduced dexterity. We’re searching for the dart. Well, those folks on the right side of the helicopter are searching for the darts because us on the left can’t see anything. I sit rigid while the biologist hangs out the side of the helicopter like he’s a gunner searching for the Viet Cong. Wind is rushing in. I work on controlling my mind and accepting what is. I tell my brain that I will not die of this cold. I will not lose any toes or fingers. I am fine. This is temporary pain. I must be tough. I have been told I’m tough, but I know the truth of it. I’m not tough. This is so hard. It’s not worth it. None of it. It's too hard.
    Why have I tried so hard and sacrificed so much to be here? That is what is running through my head. Why am I not walking along peaceful, tree-lined streets to eat Thai food with my husband? Why am I not home, curled on the couch with my loving pet cat, binge-watching Netflix? Why am I not flying off to see my family and friends at my discretion? Why am I here, in this helicopter, literally freezing?
    Everything about this job is hard to me. I’ve been gone from my home in Igloolik for over 70 days now, splitting my time between shacks and hotel rooms in remote communities. I haven’t had a private room since the first week I left Igloolik. It is hard to share space for so long with strangers, or anyone for that matter. There is nowhere to escape. I escape into my private world by inserting my earbuds. Living this way is not easy. Sitting on a cold cold seat to crap in a bucket is not nice. Fueling up a helicopter from cached fuel drums in the Arctic is cold and miserable. The drums full are 400lbs. These drums are now frozen to the ground. The wind from the chopper is biting and unrelenting. Sitting in the helicopter for hours and hours, the ear protection doesn't eliminate the high-pitched whine of the rotors. The helicopter's scream feels, at times, unbearable. I drug myself every day with anti-nausea medication just so I can endure being in the helicopter. When it’s windy, I have to take another pill and top up with an anti-vomiting pill. The pills make me drowsy. So drowsy; my head lolls and snaps, but I Have to stay awake. It’s my job. It is so hard to fight those pills every day. I can feel when the sleep-inducing effects wear off; I can feel it almost instantly. It’s like I’ve awoken from a full night’s rest and I savor the alertness that I feel once I’ve won my daily battle with the drug. Searching for bears for hours and hours in the rocks and snow exhausts my eyes. Listening to the complaints throughout the day from the pilot is exhausting and infuriating. I want to go home. Home in Igloolik, home in British Columbia, home in Washington state, home in Tennessee. Anywhere home but here.
    But then. Then I look outside the helicopter into the flying snow and ice and I see the sun glinting off the crystals making it seem as if I am in a cloud of sparkling diamonds. Outside the diamond cloud, the cliffs and rocks rise around me, falling off in sheer drops to the ocean below. I look down and see a polar bear 10 ft away looking at me, panting and furious. The shot is taken and the dart bounces off the rump, falling into the snow. The bear, tired of being chased, ambles off, back into his role as the king of the North. I realize that that is why I’m here. To see this beauty, to see these animals, to experience a glimpse into the surreal becoming real, to tough it out. Because that is what it takes.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    The shack cabin
    Tent, cabin, and helicopterCozy accommodations3ft by 3ft bathroom box

    An early morning visitor named Mr. Bear

    18 november 2018, Davis Strait ⋅ ⛅ -19 °C

    "Ugh, do we really need BOTH these boards EVERY night?" sighed the exasperated helicopter engineer as he fought to place two wet and swollen boards into the custom built holders on either side of the door frame. My boss quipped, "Nope, but you're the one that gets to hold the door closed against any polar bears that decide they want inside the cabin."

    The engineer knew the boards were going up and he knew he was the one that was going to do it because for the last weeks, he was the person that had graciously taken the frustrating duty on along with turning off the generator outside for all of us. (selfless person to let everyone else ready for bed with light). Normally, putting up the boards isn't such an annoying task, but, this year, the rains had not broken and our plywood shack, with no insulation and no real barriers to the wet, was soaked. The door didn't want to close, the cabin was sinking noticeably in one corner (a corner which just so happened to hold the oil stove and made walking in the cabin a sometimes dangerous affair when you felt yourself staggering towards the burning stove!), and putting those damn boards up was a nightly struggle. In fact, going out to pee in the night was a decision in which "do I feel like removing those stuck boards" or "do I risk peeing on myself in my sleeping bag" was a real question.

    Nevertheless, we all remained true to protocol and always the boards went up and we went to sleep peaceful in our bunk coffins with everyone else within arm's reach.

    Rousing me out of my sleep almost 7 hours later, is the engineer's voice. This time he is repeating, in a voice that immediately breaks any lingering sleep reverie, what seems like completely irrelevant information to share at 5 am. "Daisy is barking. Daisy is barking." My brain: "why are you telling me this and why are you getting out of bed with just your undies on? This is completely uncharacteristic of you Mr. Engineer Man." Then my sleep-addled brain got it. A BEAR! There must be a bear!

    That's when my second dose of reality hit. My brain began berating me, "Damnit Jasmine why did you decide to wear pink lacey thongs under your yoga pants?!?! You can't be seen jumping out of your bunk to fight a bear in Victorias Secret ridiculousness! What kind of idiot brings those to field camp?" The bear would have to wait. I quickly began trying to locate my well-placed yoga pants in the dark and put them on in my bunk that has so little headspace that it is impossible to sit up. While I frantically tried to pull them on, I was donkey kicking below me trying to rouse my apparently earplugged-to-the-max boss. Evidently my kicking worked because he started to move. While trying to pull on stretchy pants and wake my boss, the engineer had made his way to the door of the cabin and was going to look outside. I heard the door open and then furiously slam. "Not good", I thought.

    The engineer burst back into the cabin and threw his back against the door with arms and legs spread eagle yelling, "THERE'S A BEAR. ON THE PORCH. IT FUCKING LOOKED AT ME. 3 FEET."

    Turns out, that's all you need to say to get 5 otherwise peacefully-slumbering folks out of their sleeping bags and bunks in a hot second.

    I was just slipping on my glasses, because, well, I didn't figure I should be slinging firearms around without my glasses, when my boss jumped out of his bunk in his undies and grabbed the .44 magnum revolver that lived by his bed.

    The engineer had already grabbed the shotgun that lived by the door for these such occasions and together they started pacing about the cabin in their undies trying to assess the situation. The difficulty here was that the shack had but one fairly useless window the size of a commercial cookie sheet. So, we had approximately a 10 degree view of a situation in which, oh, I don't know, 360 degrees would have been nice.

    We quickly saw a blur of white run past the window. Was that the bear?! The barking had not stopped. Then we saw the blur again. It was not the bear. It was the white husky bear dog Daisy protecting us and clearly trying to let us know to get our shit together and help her out there!

    The guys with guns decided that they could not safely open the door. There was an 8 inch ventilation pipe that went through the wall of the cabin through to the bathroom which shared a wall with the one-room cabin. The bathroom was a 3ft by 3 ft room that was accessed from the outside. The ventilation pipe, coming from the inside of the cabin passed across the top of the bathroom. However, I guess there wasn't quite 3 feet of pipe because that vent tube stopped about 7inches shy of actually exiting the bathroom (it was great getting to listen to folks play games on their phone or listen to music while they were in the bathroom---a vent pipe and plywood wall aren't exactly the most sound-deadening). The engineer took the shotgun, filled with banger ammunition that is designed to scare away wildlife with it's loud 'bang', and shot through that 8 in ventilation pipe while the rest of us covered our ears. "BANG, BANG, BANG" he shot.

    Then, it was back to our cookie sheet sized window to see if the bear had moved to the other side of the cabin. Nope. Not a sign. It was the moment of truth. The front door had to be opened.

    The two guys approached the door with weapons at the ready. Standing like two stooges, one head above the other, in their tight boxer briefs, the cracked the door. Then, they exploded through yelling. The bear had retreated toward our tent filled with food and gear. The guys ran off the porch yelling, "GIT, GIT! while firing more rounds of bangers and .44 rounds into the air.

    As the bear ran up and over the hill, I couldn't help but have the image of those two standing out in the cold, barefoot, in their underwear, yelling and shooting seared into my brain.

    The morning's wakeup call got us all going and we quickly got dressed to go after the bear with the helicopter. The dog was gone. We didn't know if she had chased the bear or been chased by the bear. The pilot and engineer fired up the bird and off we flew to give that bear one more taste of bad human experience. We found the bear, made it have a bad morning, and then returned to camp to find the dog waiting on her cadre of helpless humans.

    We spent the rest of the day weathered in and looking nervously over our shoulder when venturing outside for pees or smokes. Daisy spent her day curled up and happy from many carrot treats as reward for her heroism.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    Ice broken up in the water
    Fog--a worst enemy for low flying helicopterLandscapeBear dog Daisy and her favorite toyLandscape was surrealDaisy dog and helicopter

    Signs you're field rotten

    15 oktober 2018, Canada ⋅ ⛅ -7 °C

    3 months. 11.5 weeks since I left my home in Igloolik to do field work. That is a long time to not have any privacy and share cabins with 4-5 of your very best stranger-friends. Now, don't let me misinform you dear reader. I spent many days in communities in hotels. You see, however, this is the Arctic and hotel rooms are a rare and precious thing. This means that although I had a hotel room, this room was shared with someone else. That's right, for the low low price of $250-$300 per night, you get a twin bed in a room shared with someone else. I chose to share with my colleagues rather than pure strangers.

    I have decided to share a few insights that I've had since returning to the capital city of Iqaluit. Then, over the next weeks, I plan to share singular stories and instances of life/work in the field. Thus, they won't be in real time, but rather a revelation of stored stories.

    Signs You're Field Rotten (aka: not fit for society)
    1. Taking daily or every-other-day showers seems inordinately excessive.

    2. It is perfectly reasonable and acceptable to wear the same clothes for at least a week. Pants could go longer.

    3. You don't notice holes or dirt on your clothes unless the holes are are allowing cold air in, in which case, the are either repaired with tape or burned.

    4. You return to society and try to leave the hotel room in search of the bucket bathroom. (I did this the first night back in Iqaluit).

    5. "Dirty" becomes very subjective. Unless there is visible, accumulated dirt, it is not dirty.

    6. You don't worry about skin care because the daily micro-dermabrasions and saltwater scrubs from the helicopter's rotor wash keeps your exposed skin nice and fresh.

    7. You have trouble sleeping in a proper sized bed or room because both are too big to feel secure.

    8. You have separation anxiety upon returning to society because there are not 4-5 strangers within arm's reach at all times.

    9. You notice clouds or fog and immediately think, "Oh no, not good ceilings for flying."

    10. You forget to bring your wallet places because where you've been, money is not a thing.

    11. You brush your teeth and wash your hands in the instantly warm, ever-running water because it's fun and easy.

    12. You see Tuck Tape as viable, reasonable fix for everything---ripped wallet, torn pants, etc.

    13. Footwear needs only be "boots" and varying degrees of "warmer boots".

    14. Sights, noise, movement, and activities of people jar you. Restaurants are overwhelmingly loud. You order take out to get away from the bustle.

    15. You find toilet paper in random pockets of all your outerwear---prepared for bathroom breaks anywhere.

    These are the things that have popped into my head though I am sure there will be more. Nevertheless, I survived and hopefully will be home soon!!    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    1Passing motorist also thought me crazy to take pics of flowers
    3Cemetery in Iqaluit, by the bay13 lbs of pistachios right here!1Night! About 1:45 am.Seriously. I mean, really! This is fancy stuff!1The flowers again! They're everywhere! So much grass here.

    Pistachios and Parsley!

    27 juli 2018, Canada ⋅ ⛅ 7 °C

    I arrived in the capital, Iqaluit yesterday and proceeded to ooh and ahh in every aisle of the incredible grocery store.
    There was fresh basil! Pistachios! Parsley! Pineapple and so much more. Goat cheese and feta cheese. Fresh meat! There were sodas and gluten free cookies. I could go on and on. It's amazing. I was there to buy stuff for snacks this week and field camp odds and ends so my boss was with me. He was so excited by the parsley that he just grabbed a piece right off the cooler shelf and proceeded to gnaw on it. The passing shopper was a bit taken aback judging by her swiveling head and wide eyes. Savages we already are.
    Then, the evening finished off with night. That's right, darkness. What a good cue that it's time for bed.    Meer informatie

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  • Jasmine WareThe Great White NorthReiziger
    2Jumping on washed up icebergs!
    3Guess everywhere has roadkill. This alien thing is a seal.The Ice KingBlown in by the wind and tides. Ice chunks.2FLOWERS!! stopped me in my tracks.Jumping the wind brought ice bergs

    Summer was short and sweet.

    25 juli 2018, Canada ⋅ 🌬 3 °C

    Settle in dear readers. Settle in. If you follow this little blog, you'll know that I haven't posted in over a month. I would like to update you on the goings on in Igloolik and in my head.

    Currently, it's 3C (37F) with a feels like temp of -3C (26F). I get that it's the Arctic. Well, at least I get that in a factual way, but stepping outside in late July and shivering is just bizarre. It is like I'm in upside-down world. Maybe I need to travel to the Southern Hemisphere so that I can have these chilly temps set a "normal" for me. So, is summer over? I don't know. All I know is that I have ridden to work approximately 1 day in almost a year of being here without a hat. I have ridden multiple days without gloves, so yay summer!

    The ice in the bay was blown out to sea in a matter of two days when we had gale force winds slicing through town. Seeing the bay completely iced up one day and then completely open water the next is also bizarre. Another bizarre (bizarre is the word of the day folks) experience was when the water was freed from the ice, I was instantly struck, upon stepping outside, by the ocean smell. The smell of the sea exists even in the cold Arctic. It made me smile. That's a smell I have known. It made me feel that there is life. I found that odd given that I am not a fisherman and so the sea doesn't really represent "life-giving" in that sense to me. However, the smell and sight of blue sparkling ocean is just beautiful anywhere....no matter how cold.

    Two days later, the winds changed and all the ice blew back in. Okay. It's like there's a gigantic fan in outer space oscillating back and forth on us. The winds have been relentless. Without sunglasses, my eyes instantly water from the air forcing tears out.

    In good news, the summer feels less dry. I have not had bloody boogers or pain sleeping in quite some time. I recently visited Calgary and had zero problems with their air. This is the first time on a visit that my nose hasn't hurt in Calgary.....guess I've adapted. I would likely instantly ooze fluid from every pore on my body should I happen to feel Tennessee humidity and heat again. In fact, when traveling to Calgary, I had to stop over in Ottawa. They were having heat advisories. It was in the 90s (+30sC). I stepped on the jet bridge and involuntarily gasped at the suffocating humid heat. Just the air in the airport felt so wet. The air conditioning was keeping the air reasonably cool, but the moisture was palpable---to me. Felt like I was in a moderately cool cave.

    Calgary was great. I laid on the grass and was rewarded with ants in my pants for my leisure. Returning from Calgary was hard. I returned to no water and then a boil water advisory that has not lifted in 2 weeks. Ah. So lovely.

    The town is going through withdrawal. There are no sodas/pops/cokes in the town. It's a crisis. On the Sell/Swap page I watched the auction of 4 cans of soda. The starting bid was $10. I stopped watching when it hit $40. That's right my friends. Ten dollars for a SINGLE can of coke. 12 oz, 355 ml. I suspect the bid went higher than $40. The store got 10 cases (not sure what a case is in terms of store supply/inventory-----a pallet? A box? Not sure) of coke and it was gone from the shelves in about 5 minutes. The sugar addiction is real here. And strong. I find it fascinating. Such dire straits regarding food security and general poverty, but there is money here. It's here. I do not know how these things work.

    We got a new hire here that started last week and that is very exciting because I may now be able to do the job that I was hired to do. Previously, me and another co-worker were doing the duties of this vacant position that just got filled. This person was excited to come to Igloolik because they'd been in the capital, Iqaluit, for 18 months and found it too big and busy. Yep. Igloolik will not be too big or busy I'm almost certain. A week and a half later, I am not sure he isn't having a reality check on what being not as big and busy as Iqaluit means in terms of daily life. He mentioned that his tub is not draining and that there is a bullet hole in his bedroom window that has apparently remained unfixed for over a year. They put him in this housing unit without fixing the window. Housing said maybe they can fix it when the supplies come in on the sealift, but no promises. That is going to be chilly for him in the winter. Then, he was wondering where I got my meat for eating. He noted that there is no fresh meat here. Yep. There isn't. He mentioned that he'd gotten the ground beef thinking that there was no way to go wrong with ground beef. Wrong. Our ground beef is more beef paste, a slimy concoction of pink, hopefully beef, meat stuff. I laughed when he told me this. Yep, no good meat here. You're lucky if you can get any chicken that is mostly breasts or boneless. There are no other options for ground beef either. It's that one or nothing. Take your one pick. Then, he noted that they lost one of his moving boxes. Us around him nodded in encouraging affirmation. Only 1 box? That's not bad. Nice. Iqaluit to Igloolik is one flight.....straight shot. One box lost. Yep, that checks out. He's mentioned the unrelenting wind....and the dirt.....and how he isn't worried about fixing his hair...that he is just mixing the dirt in and mussing it for the "textured" look. Welcome friend. Welcome. He too is enjoying the boil advisory. He also got his first introduction into trying to get things done here....I know I shouldn't say it, but it's been fun to watch the boyish excitement as he thinks that a shipment we need at work will actually arrive when a rep says it will. hahahahaha. He's already figuring ways to get foods and goods up from Iqaluit by having friends in Iqaluit pick up things and send them. It seems to me that the smaller, less busy, Igloolik is giving him a real dose of the real North. One point five weeks. Bless his heart.

    Meanwhile, I'm over here like an old, crotchety weathered pessimistic hag. lol. Just watching with amusement.

    Speaking of amusement, today is the last day you'll be hearing from me. I leave tomorrow to start field work. We are anticipating approximately 2 to 2.5 months of work out of cabins in the Arctic. There will be a few days here and there in a town while we get gear ready and go to meet the helicopter in the North starting point. Other than that, it will be no plumbing, no electricity, nothing with 3-5 of my closest stranger friends. Ah, I cannot wait to burn more shit. Igloolik will seem like paradise upon my return.

    I'll be taking notes so that I can relay the escapades that will surely transpire in the next few months. So my friends, stay tuned! Enjoy your warmth and summer.....and plumbing....and grocery stores.....and Netflix.......and, and, and. Much love and talk to you soon!    Meer informatie

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