Sra Niday

“Sra Niday” means the sun is shining in our local Hän language. And it really did, for weeks. I don’t know Hän for “How the hell can it be summer already?” or “Jesus Christ, is that a mosquito?”  

Things have got out of hand. A warm chinook wind roared through, hot as a hair dryer. The snow is melting, the trails have gone slushy, our meat’s thawing and there are spots opening in the creek. It’s May in March and we are reeling with it.

Across river, the cliffs rumble and crack with avalanches. 

Earlier in the month, we had the most astounding March weather. Days bright enough to hurt your eyes and skies so deep you feel you can fall up into them. 

The nights were ice cold and clear, down to twenty below with a hazy green aurora rippling in a wide arc around the North Pole, brushing the tops of the hills. 

Our mornings were dusted with frost, floating from the trees like blossom petals and the most amazing, blazing, red and white-gold sun dogs.

We took advantage of the incredible wea…

Lame Dogs and Englishmen

Both Neil and Homer, plus 2 of our 3 snow machines are injured. Neil’s wrist is slowly improving after our adventure last month but he is avoiding doing anything that might jar it.

That includes chainsawing, limbing trees, splitting wood, driving a snowmachine, getting water, hauling logs, skiing and leaves not a lot. 

The dog is under “house arrest” in the hope his hip will heal. He is miserable as sin.
All we could do for a while was go snowshoeing, but without our bounding husky it felt a bit pointless. The scenery’s pretty and all that but, whatever...

Then I broke my snowshoe. That wasn’t a good day.

We are running out of winter to get the logs we need to finish our new cabin. We can’t get them in the summer as we have no vehicle to pull them out of the bush. So with Neil’s wrist still not better, we’ve had to crack on but with me doing most of the work.

We had to find 5 x 22’ logs to be our cap logs, purlins and ridge poles to support the roof, plus 10 more 19 footers to finis…