Shane's Report #2

Day 22 - November 24th, 2006

In flight, First Air, Airline of the North. We left Edmonton this morning, minus 37 degrees with the wind chill. We're in the middle of the flight going to Inuvik, NWT where the sun rises at 11:50 AM and sets by 3:00 PM. This is going to be interesting. Who flies outta minus 37 degree weather to the further expanse of the north?

Oddly, when we checked into the hotel last night, little spot by the Edmonton airport, the lady checking us in told us about her school field trip about 8 years ago, how a group went up to Inuvik in July. How they ice fished, how she wore her winter boots and parka the whole time ... in JULY. Troubling news. "It's amazing though, you're going to love it." Which part?

Prior to leaving the organization/company (which has to remain nameless) sent word that I may be going on a dogsled ride to shoot some images for their program. Hmmm. Wondering a few things. One, how fast until the camera freezes? That'll be interesting information to have, something you wouldn't otherwise have a chance to test out the limits of operation in extreme weather. But I couldn't help recalling the dream I had a month ago, prior to this big trip as a whole. I was on a dogsled ride, we were coming down a hill, rounding a bend, and at the bottom to our surprise, there was a pack of giant wolves that attacked and ate me and the wrangler alive. I woke up in a fright and now I'm flying towards it. [I asked head office, the office that must remain nameless, if we could book the dogsled ride around the Mall or something in Inuvik or perhaps we'll shoot it in front of a green screen with some blowing styrofoam. They didn't seem interested.]

Now I don't want to pick on Edmonton, really shouldn't. I mean, my Dad is from Lac Saint Ann, Alberta, north of Edmonton. My roots from from Edmonton. My sister was born in Edmonton. Anyway, we're flying out of Edmonton and I look below and it starts to make sense. We back East in my estimation got it lucky. Most car roads were built on horse and buggy trails and those trails ran through buildings in the city, and those passages was were/are cramped and tightly congested. Which means, there is a downtown, there is a central place that runs for blocks and blocks. A place where people work, live, shop, play, the whole deal - we live in a decernable downtown, a central place of many - and I love that. In Edmonton the "downtown" is a bit of a ghost town, it seems everyone is everywhere, scattered throughout the sprawling suburbs that go on for miles around the Prairies surrounding the "centre" of Edmonton - a centreless centre.

But here is the interesting thing, Edmonton an wise man was telling us, was actually a REAL deal meeting place. Right below the Provincial buildings, by the South Saskatchewan river that flows by it, there is a flat lands, the Po'hon. And this was a traditional meeting grounds for MANY Aboriginal groups/nations. They would come from miles and have meetings and gatherings right there, right in the centre of Edmonton. It used to be a profound place of meeting and gathering.

Now, back to flying over it, I look down and the ghost town I had experience now made sense. High above looking down on it as we flew over you could see the downtown core: about 50 high rise buildings, sort of gathered in a smallish area. Around that, suburbs for miles with box malls and plazas. After that the farming Prairies. I guess you love what you grew up in. For me, Ottawa and now Toronto, I just got to love that sense of "here's the downtown, here's the centre where you can get out of your car, walk around, all kinds of places to eat, read, grab a drink, and just be with the people." In Edmonton, you go to the box mall - and Calgary wasn't that different. And to conclude with my rail against my people's roots, let me also add, here is Alberta crying every time Quebec talks about a distinct society, that Alberta is one too. Well, judging from the miles of box malls, all chalk full of American multinational corps, I'm having a hard time finding the "Alberta-ness" in the cities. But then again, maybe the box malls and 4 lane boulevards looks better from a 50,000 tonne pick up truck to drop your kids off at the mall.

One last little ram against all of rural Canada that hates Toronto and Torontonians - I know I covered some if this in the last email. Out for breakfast in Calgary and we got a great old bird serving us - real talkative and personable - amazing. She asks us where we're from, "Toronto", we reply. She replies back without a thought, "Oh, the centre of the universe." Jordan replies back without a moments hesitation, "Well they had to put it some place and they sure as hell weren't going to put it here." Nice. She had a great sense of humour and laughed with us. Jordan and I, since we live in Toronto, own homes in Toronto, will have families with Toronto, our loving dutiful wives are back in Toronto (getting along famously without us, they might add) means that when you say "I hate Toronto" our reply is going to be "that's great, because I hate this place where you live. So, this is great, finally in life everyone gets what they want - you get the shit hole here and we get our urban mecca. Enjoy." How did Canada come to this?

Okay, if I may depart just for a moment: just flew into Yellowknife airport on my way towards Inuvik, which I just learned is above the tree line. It's 1:00 PM here and the sun is already starting to set. Coming in for miles and miles around the Great Slave Lake, with steam rising off the lake where ice hasn't formed over yet, I'm struck with this thought: BC is for pussies, you want the real deal, NOTHING for miles and miles, go North young man, woman, hacky sack and a dream, go north. Don't half-ass it, live outside Vancouver and tell me about organic live off the land - man, coming into this place, you gotta just do what you can to survive - it is vast, open, and absent seemingly to human interference (I'm sure I'm wrong about this).

But to pick up on the do it yourself northern attitude that has to come from this wild vast tundra let me tell you about the photos on the right here of the Raven. The Airline's here don't make their bread and butter shipping people to Inuvik and the like, they make it filling the plane with shipments of goods and supplies. So, this plane unloads a vast amount of boxes and piles them up on the dollies. Then the guys walk away and do something on the other side of the plane. Which leaves the boxes unattended. Which means a giant Raven swoops down, lands on top of the piles, snoops around, smells something it likes, rips the box open, and starts taking out packages of food from the prior to seal box. So, word to the wise, when shipping things in the north, if they get opened and contents aren't still there upon it's final destination just know it was the Raven's doing. Utterly amazing. (Jordan and I watched and cheered when it unpacked not one bag of nuts or whatever, but three, placed them on the side, piled them into its mouth and then flew off. We literally cheered, threw our arms up, it was amazingly resourceful.)

Since it was a 20 minute stop over in Yellowknife, Jordan and I took a stroll through the Yellowknife airport. The front door goes to the parking lot, through the other doors to your flight. No security checks or baggage checks. Only way to get anything up here is from down south via plane, so EVERYTHING has already been checked. And let's face it, the red, amber, whatever Al Queda alerts aren't really pertaining to the great white north - you gotta love that.

So, I cannot tell you how much I jumped for joy getting up halfway to the final destination of Inuvik. I'm thinking that I've been a fool traveling around the world looking for vast openness and beauty, a place in a way to pray, when here's a great vast everything and nothingness all at once in our own Canadian backyard. What a goddamn country we have and never actually see ... amazing. After we get checked into the hotel and the sun has set by 3 PM I'll give you a final word.
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Okay, so it's 10:30 PM here in downtown Inuvik. Flying into the airport it's clear that you've flown into the middle of a northern bog. Do your teeth hurt after eating ice cream? Well the air kind of does that here. Freezes any liquid in your nose and makes you feel like your teeth are going to shatter, but you still can't help laughing you head off and smiling like an idiot because it's so cold and so far north and it's 3 PM and sun is already setting and it's only November. It's north, north, north here, and it's cold, cold, cold, and its amazing.

When we picked up the rental van I asked the guy what way to town, to the hotel. He smiled, "it's one road. If you miss it you're blind and stupid." And then we laughed. The humour here is dry, dry, dry - my kind of town.

Jordan pointed this out: what makes a place like this exciting is that it really is its own thing. There's no box mall that looks like anywhere anywhere north america with a different geographical back drop. This place is the real deal. It's own thing. If it didn't cost $3000 to get here and count on spending double for ANYTHING while you're here, I'd invite you up to see it for yourself (and I mean double, seriously double. Can of Coke? $3 bucks.)

So, this is only day one of crushed teeth more if I continue to survive.