Yukon bush life

We’ve been occupying ourselves with “uglification” projects. We are in the process of turning our beautifully crafted log home into a plywood box. The skills of the craftsman who lovingly whittled each log and pole to create this beautiful house are just no match for Neil and I with a generator, a DeWalt drill and some sheets of 8x4.  Our house was built high, one and a half stories, with a sleeping platform in the eaves. There is a painstakingly crafted rail of spruce poles creating an indoor balcony. All the heat from our barrel stove drifts upwards and over the rustic railings so when temps drops we have to sit downstairs in our parkas and then sweat our Primark pyjamas off in bed.  The move between indoors and outdoors requires the putting on or off of so many layers of clothing, I’m buggered if I’m going to do that inside the house as well. So w e’re in the process of sealing off the upstairs space with 8x4s. If that doesn’t solve the problem, we’ll...

(Lou, Yukon) You know how whenever you do a home improvement job there is always some bit you can’t be bothered to do? Some little bit of trim, or a corner that needs painting?  Or a roof that needs putting on.  We got as far as putting the roof on our resurrected cache then had to stop because Neil hurt his back. But with snowy clouds darkening the skies, we had to get it finished, bad back or not. Health and safety is a serious challenge and works in inverse proportion to temperature and time. So we start with the best intentions (not using a chainsaw when off the ground, one of us always holding our rickety handmade ladders etc.) then as our hands get colder and frustrations build, we progress in an increasingly stupid manner until the job is finished or one of us is injured.  Not using the chainsaw on the swaying platform lasted for as long as it took me to look at the log that needed a corner notched into it and then look at the hand saw. Keeping both fe...

After a fractious week trying to rebuild the roof on our old cabin, there’s no better balm for marital relationships than a common enemy. We have one. The squirrels. Despite our best efforts to pin chicken wire into the eaves of the old cabin, they have got in already and begun to scatter our fibreglass insulation into the snow. Our squirrels are not the galumphing grey type that you see in London. They are smaller and soft amber brown, with tufty ears and tails that look like they’ve been sketched by a cartoonist in a few pencil strokes. They are also the most aggressive, noisy and bothersome creatures I have encountered here. They chant abuse nonstop at each other like little football hooligans.  Squirrels causing trouble at the football They get so livid, they wheeze asthmatically between each scream, desperate to suck in enough air to keep up the fight. In the warmer months, they will be up before us squeaking furiously, carry on all day, and still be at it when we...

Temperatures are down to -12C at night and below zero during the day. The creek is freezing over and ice is beginning to form at the river bank.  With our boat now out of the river, we are cut off from the world maybe until next year. We can’t travel again until the Yukon is frozen and we’ve managed to get a trail either 60 miles south to Dawson or 30 miles north to the old mining road. Until then we are in splendid isolation.  Moose receipts and laundry- all the glamour of our last trip to town And so we made our final boat journeys last week. We did our last supply run to Dawson for this year and, for once, got to town on a weekday that wasn’t a public holiday so all the shops were open! A cause for celebration though we had no time to.  Days are getting shorter and with at least 4 hours of driving once we got out of the boat it was a race against time to get everything done. We were on the river at first light around 8am- it was bastard cold still, at 12 be...