Yukon bush life

Winter held on until yesterday but today we are at +7c and our beautiful white world is fading fast. I’ve been “out”, as people say here, nearly all of March. I had to go to England to buy a Canadian-made log scribe, as I shall explain later. On my return the Yukon was resplendent with spring blue skies and dazzling white, so bright your eyes go blotchy when you step in the cabin and you fall over things. The top surface of the snow has thawed and refrozen giving it a shiny crust and the worn look of an old suit. In the woods it is dimpled with spruce needles and crud and everything looks like it needs a good sweep. The yard looking cruddy The river ice has started to sink. The jumble ice and boulder fields we fought to make trails through in December are now pillowy humps of sagging white. Between them are wide, flat snowfields. Holding hands with the Inukshuk iceman that appeared on the trail (See footnote) We’re hurtling towards 24...

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...