Yukon bush life

Our creek I am currently rushing back to Britain, as there has been some snow and a bit of cold weather. I’m coming to share the survival and bush expertise I’ve learnt from living in one of the coldest places on the planet. Here’s a quick one for free- wear more clothes, you stupid bastards. Warm not cool Doesn’t matter if you don’t look cool. Down jackets, woolly hats, big mitts and here’s the one no Brit ever thinks of- insulated trousers! Ski pants, they’ll do. In fairness, who needs a cupboard full of expensive, bulky clothing they only wear for a week every 5 years? Well, despite my extensive travels in the arctic, I have never been as cold as standing on London Bridge Station waiting for the delayed train to Woolwich Arsenal. I’d say it’s worth buying some big, daft, padded trousers. Snowshoeing up the creek We’ve had a dump of snow too. Our yard is piled with the stuff. It’s a terrible trip hazard and a danger on the trails as this keeps happenin...

People often ask me, are there lots of mad people in the bush? I don’t know if there are more than anywhere else , but I know this- if you are mentally unwell, living alone in a tiny cabin and seeing no-one for months on end will send you a whole lot fucking madder. Snowy day on the beach We’ve just lost a very dear friend. As far we know they haven’t died, but they left a very odd note in our PO box last month, and have refused all contact by email since. Though they are one of our closest friends, I’ve never written about this person. They are intensely private. When I say private, what I really mean is, delusionally paranoid. This person can be great company and has been very kind to us, both with advice and possessions. But we knew every interaction we had was mulled over and picked apart in the depths of an unwell mind. We knew that one day we would say or do something that would weave us into the web of conspiracy that our friend saw all a...