Yukon bush life

That’s it. We’re out. Out of the water, out of time and, aside from the internet, out of contact with other humans. We’re cut off until the river is frozen and we can snowmachine to town. Last year we didn’t have trail in until the end of January. Why the hell didn’t we buy more booze? Ice on the hull Two days after I wrote the last blog, a crust of ice formed at the shoreline and crept along the edge of our boat. We pulled the boat out straight away. By the following day, the river was filled with chunks of spinning ice and the eddy where it was moored had become a skating rink. We would have had to chop the hull out with an axe if we’d left it. Neil moving the boat with the rope puller attached to a willow It took two days to get the bloody thing across the beach, up the bank, turned 180 degrees and pulled into its winter resting place with a handheld rope-puller, chain hoist, rollers and skids. Stuck in a hole There are fid...

(Whitehorse) I’ve read the manuals for the chainsaws, the outboard motor, the truck and I’m just looking at the owner's guide for our new Skidoo. There is no mention of a penis. Safety goggles, helmets, ear defenders, yes, but I’m 100% sure I’ve seen nothing about penises. The new Skidoo. After trouble with our 20 year old machine last winter we bit the bullet and got a new one. I’m hoping this winter’s blogs will have less mechanical content. A relief all round When I picked up our new machine at the Skidoo dealership, I asked for everything I need to do the first service as I can't bring it back to Whitehorse. I didn’t see any genitals in the box with the oil and filter. No one chased me out the yard as I pulled away shouting “Hey, hold up! We forgot your scrotum!”  The night before I left Whitehorse I sat in my little Airbnb room watching TV and feeling nervous. It’s nearly 400 miles to Forty Mile. I’m not used to driving a truck, I’m not used to...