Bum Hole Soup

We’ve few ingredients to choose from, so when our friends came to stay last week I thought I might liven things up with a fried oriental squirrel starter. (See footnote)

Norm and Aedes live in the bush too so we hoped they’d be OK with it. Unless they had squirrel for lunch, perhaps.

Our friends and their fearsome dog Chewie between Norm's legs
Turns out I should have boiled up the anuses that I cut out when I skinned them and made an exotic soup. The oriental ‘wings’ went down a storm. Then Aedes informed us that, when working with hunters and elders in the territory, she’s been presented with live warble grubs (larvae of the warble fly that exists in the hides of living caribou) and a delicacy called Bum Soup.

Warble fly larvae
Bum Soup is made from the anus and lower intestine (and contents) of a moose, all boiled up into a hearty stew. Wow. What will I have to do to impress these folk?

Our poor guests helping us move logs.
Traditionally, just about everything from a kill was used. First Nation people were dependant on fish and game. Getting enough food was a challenge and the contents of a moose or caribou’s digestive tract contains much-needed vitamins.

Each fall we’ve seen the Forty Mile caribou herd wander through on their migration from Alaska. Last year, before we had managed to reach our property, I was living in a tent and they came right through my camp. Days of them, plodding along with the occasional snort or huff of alarm at my shabby canvas arrangement. And with them came the wolves, their partners of ten thousand years.

Didn’t get many good shots. There might be 50,000 and in the herd, but not one will pose for a photo
This year they didn’t come. I don’t know where they went. Nor have we seen a moose aside from the one we shot. You can’t live on squirrels for long. People starved to death in this country simply because the caribou didn’t come by.

So without dried goods from the store, we’d have been pretty dumb not to boil up the bum hole of the moose we shot, and jelly its nose (another local delicacy) and eat everything else we could scrape off the carcass.

Traditional is the way to go. I’ve been trying to get my hands on beaver for some time. Not just for the opportunity for smutty jokes but the fur is great for mitts and hats (and yes, beaver makes a good stew too).

Aedes' beaver mitt. I'm going to copy the design.
You can stick your North Face fancy gear in your Bum Hole soup as far as I’m concerned. Goose down, wool and fur are still best for this lifestyle. Beaver is a less valuable fur but it’s warm and waterproof (obviously, else what a miserable life it would be for them). We aren’t licensed to trap our own so thought a trip to the biannual Fur Show in Dawson could be a good start.

Judgung lynx furs
The Fur Show is run by Renewable Resources Council. It’s an opportunity for local trappers to show off their best furs from this season’s catch, with prizes awarded to the winners, and generally have a bit of a social. This year it was held at the Robert Service School in town.

Wolf furs shown here have been dried. They are pinned onto wooden planks known as forming boards to dry. Later they will be sent to professional tanners for use in clothing.
Marten on a forming board
We ran into just about everyone we know here, which was fun, and watched a marten skinning display. I made copious notes to help me skin squirrels here at the cabin. (See footnote 2)

Marten skinning
I’ve not met a single female trapper here. I was pondering why this would be. Maybe big traps like a #330 are hard for women to manage, but really, come on girls! I’d have a go myself but trap lines here are carefully managed and there are none available nearby. I can’t justify killing more than I want to use myself, either, as we have other ways to make a living.

Dyed fox fur
I was really excited that our pal Aedes entered the trap setting completion. We've got a video of her efforts on yukonbushlife facebook page -click on this link to see it. She wore a Pussy Hat from the anti-Trump march too. Good for her! (If only she’d worn her beaver mitts with the pussy hat...)

Watch her trap setting on our facebook page here


I bought two beautiful tanned beaver skins which were the source of much innuendo in the pub afterwards. Once the comedy value is thoroughly wrung out of them, I’m hoping to make mitts and do hat repairs.


As I was leaving I noticed the entry display in the school foyer. I’ve visited quite a few schools in Britain. I’ve given talks about our life here to kids in London and done a couple of Theatre in Education tours as an actor, but I’ve never seen a family of stuffed grizzly bears standing outside the headmaster’s office. This is a most unusual place.

Got the laundry done in this space age clothes-washing robot thing. Whatever will they come up with next?
Our dog’s week followed a similar vein to ours in some ways but was filled with heart-ache and disappointment. He got to eat some unusual food and meet up with his pal but neither event worked out.

Homer spent a large part of the winter hunting lemmings. He is not good at it. He cocks his head, listening to the rustlings and scufflings under the deep snow and then suddenly plunges his nose down into the flakes. Each time he is rigid with adrenalin and expectation. Each time he comes up empty handed, a dusting of snow on his muzzle and an expression that says “Where’d he go?”

The great white lemming hunter
This week, as we were loading the sled with firewood, he charged over, tail wagging, and plopped a lemming at our feet. “Well, done Homer!” we said. Then grabbed it and ran off in case we ate it. Dogs are selfish like that.

Cosying down in a patch of brush, he bit into the much-anticipated rodent. The disappointment was palpable. He didn’t like it. Oh. Then he didn’t know what to do.

Yuk
He still listens for lemmings, but the passion has gone from his hunting.

Chewie. She's a real fierce lady
Then his best (only) friend came to visit. Chewie is a beautiful chocolate lab owned by our pals Norm and Aedes. Homer loves Chewie. He was scared of her at first because she growled at him a little bit but now he’s not quite so frightened and he wants to play. Chewie doesn’t like him. It’s pathetic. He follows her round the yard whilst she completely ignores him.

“Hey Chewie! Let’s play a game! Come on come on come on!”
“Asshole.”

Supplies from town
Whilst in town we got our army surplus parcel from the post office, so I can give you a quick peek into some of next year’s winter trends.


My combat GI “wimple” will be making an appearance in the shoulder season (that one was a bit of a punt for $10).

Neil's new Serbian army parka
Plus we have “brand new” World War II Swedish army trousers and -60f rated Bata US military bunny boots. The clobber is cheap but the shipping from the US and import tax makes this some of the most expensive clothing I’ve bought, as well as the ugliest.


These trousers are nearly 70 years old and made of tightly woven wool. We bought a pair each 5 years ago and wear them every day in winter. It’s incredible how tough they are. And how ridiculous we look in them. The waist band reaches up to my nipples, which makes them extra warm. And extra ridiculous.


Bunny boots don’t do much for your appearance either. White Bata boots will keep your feet warm to 60 below even when wet inside. They are the only boot I know of that can do this and they are a lot cheaper than your fancy pants high tech expedition gear. (See Footnote 3)

Obviously this is all under wraps until the Fall ’17 edition of Vogue, but there’s a couple of hot tips for you if you want to be ahead of the curve for next winter’s fashions.

We are set for more excitement with the Percy DeWolfe dogsled race. Starters should be setting off from Dawson to Eagle, Alaska as I type, and will mush right past our door. Homer will have to stay on his chain and will not be allowed to charge down to the river and bark at the teams.

So there will be more disappointment for Homer, but we might have some more visitors.  And I have some great ideas for a nutritious soup if they stay for dinner.

Living the high life at “Monte Carlo Laundromat,” Dawson City
Footnote 1- Oriental squirrel wings 

Shoot or snare the squirrel. Freeze it for a couple of days to kill fleas. Skin it as described above in the blog, if you want to use the fur. Cut off legs and arms. I don’t use limbs that are bloody or shot damaged. Marinate them for a few hours in chilli vinegar (ours was left over from some pickled chillies), soy sauce and some brown sugar. Pan fry in oil or fat (we had some bacon fat which worked well). You might want to wait til you’ve got a few.

Footnote 2- How to skin a marten

The trick is, nail one hind foot to the table as you work, make a back cut along the back legs, then peel the skin down inside out, like whipping a jumper off a small child.  Cut the feet off with snips rather than a knife, it’s easier.

Footnote 3- Bunny Boots


Buy Bata bunnies for extreme cold. We bought white “non-Bata”s previously by accident and they aren’t rated for such low temps. We used Go-Army surplus, Billings, Montana, USA. Bunnies are getting rare now so it’s hard to find common sizes. Black bunnies are a charming shoulder season boot. 

Comments

  1. My mum was a female trapper back in the late 70s and early 80s. She lived in a Quonset hut in Upper Liard when she wasn't out in the bush - told be about how it would get so cold that her water barrel would freeze, her gum boots crack open, having to chop wood with two broken wrists to stay alive in -60. She still has a #2 marten trap that is now mounted as a wall clock. Tough lady. :) You, too!

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    1. Oh my God, Thanks for your comment. Your Mum is hardcore! Good for her. Did you ever read A Life on Snowshoes? I haven't been able to find a copy but it is about a mother and her two daughters trapping in the bush, I think Alaska. Lou

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  2. When living in northern Sweden for about 6 years or so, I picked up the noble art of skinning and gutting Moose, and much more besides. I remember the wonderful relief of the warm blood on my frozen hands doing this outdoors at about -25/-30C.

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  3. I haven't! I'll look it up for her, I bet she would like it. I was born in Watson Lake, lived in many "wilderness cities" in Yukon and BC but never in the bush, and never on a trap line of course. She has lots of stories about ghosts, bailing out a canoe with the gold pan which was full of gold at the time, crawling across a river on a log because she was afraid her moccasins would slip, and fighting crazy dogs and dealing with bears :-) And sour dough doughnuts, she speaks of those fondly.

    I've just discovered your blog through facebook and I'm so enchanted and LOVE your writing and pictures. I live in Calgary Alberta now - never thought I'd be in a big city, it's still bizarre - with my young kids and husband and it's so amazing to see scenes from bush life <3 Alaska is lovely, I still remember visiting when we didn't even need a passport or ID at the border, lol. I'm so glad you're writing all this, it's great. <3

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    1. I love the Dawson pictures, too! I don't know Alaska well but I stayed in Dawson several times as a teenager and it's such an awesome town. <3

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    2. It's so good to hear from you. We are really pleased you're​ enjoying the blog. I'll bet your Mum could teach us a thing or two!

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