Journeys of the Heart

The Showmen's Rest

    Cemeteries and graves have different meanings for people.  While some people believe cemeteries are inhabited by the spirits of their departed loved ones, others believe there are no spirits present - just graves filled with coffins and ashes.  As a result, graves hold no special importance to them and mother nature is allowed to reclaim them.

 
Many families tend the graves of ancestors like small gardens - ever blooming in all seasons.

 Others leave trinkets to commemorate important past events or happy memories of days long ago.  In Maui, there is a cemetery where bottles of liquor and glasses are left on graves as if the last party was the best.

 The headstone of the grave of Bill Wilson, a co-founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, has various medallions lying atop the marker.  These medallions commemorate years of sobriety and are given to individuals each year of success.  The medallions on the gravestone are left there by anonymous alcoholics who credit this man, in part, for their new lives.  

 

An old cemetery in Canada lies near the the shores of the ocean in sight of daredevils gliding through the sky. 

    And occasionally there are cemeteries and grave markers that evoke all sorts of emotions - laughter, a nostalgia for yesteryear, a wish that the deceased was able to tell his story just one more time.  There is one of these in Hugo, Oklahoma - a small town in southwest Oklahoma, less than 10 miles from the Texas border.  There is nothing that would draw a person to visit Hugo from looking at its location on a map.  But unbeknownst to many, Hugo is the retirement home of circus elephants who are no longer able to act under the Big Top.  It is also the resting place of many circus performers who were part of the 9 circuses that wintered in that small town from the 1930's onward.  It is called the "Showmens Rest."

 

 One cloudy September day, some friends and I decided to explore this beautiful resting place.  It was rainy and cloudy, and the tall pines that surround the cemetery with their rich aroma reminded me of mornings in the mountains of Colorado and Canada.

    Elephants play unforgettable roles in circuses and in the Showmen's rest, they are everywhere.  

Under benches - 

At the feet of Our Lady of Guadalupe - 

Performing forever with Babe Woodcock - 
And giving tribute to all Showmen everywhere.

     Unlike most grave stones that offer the name, date of birth and date of death of the deceased, the markers in this cemetery invariably tell a story.  Samuel Perez was a trapeze artist.  (See above).  Frances Loter, an "all around performer and show person"

loved wooing audiences with her snakes and she still smiles at us in the photo on her gravestone.

The Great Huberto walked the tightrope solo and as an act, "Los Latinos."

       

 

     

                                                                                                       

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Okie" Carr was an animal trainer and must have worn a cowboy hat while John Carroll trained elephants.  I wonder if Carroll actually stood erect on the heads of these massive animals - or if he actually tamed their minds.

     

Harry Rooks trained horses and was an a aerialist.

 I suspect that Jack Moore worked at the entrance to the Big Top - 

While Harry Rawls laid out the lot when the circus came to town and is now laying out lots in heaven.

 

Babe Woodcock who performed with elephants was an Orton family member.  The Ortons were "early American circus pioneers" who performed for the first time in 1853.

I think "Popcorn" must have been a clown while Loyal was a bareback rider.

Big John Strong had more friends than Santa Claus.  He must have been quite a man!

 

I wonder if Big John is pointing to his affirmation of his trust in God - or merely waving to us to enjoy our day.

Freckles Brown was a legendary cowboy who rode Tornado, the bull.

 

He was not only our friend, he had many professions and is memorialized in a poem by his friend, Wilkie Braten:

Freckles had one last declaration for his wife.  What a relief to poor Edith!

Another bull rider was Lane who was an all round champion. He was loved by Kellie - 

and he wasn't perfect.
The Showmen's Rest is a cemetery that is so much more than a final resting spot for the dead.  Many of the graves try to tell the stories of the lives once lived and to fight that creep of time that swallows so many memories of those who once meant so much to so many.

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the Road Again

In August, 2006, Claudia, Elizabeth, Kay and I left Oklahoma City and began driving a 4,800 mile trek to Canada and then on to the Artic Circle.  We are good friends and remained that way throughout the trip although many folks thought that by the end, none of us would be speaking to each other. This trip, after all, was no afternoon shopping spree at the mall!

Kay and I had planned the trip for over a year.  We had been in Whitehorse in the Yukon a couple of summers before and had run into a young man who was on his way to "Inuvik" to go kayaking from there to the Artic Ocean.  I had never heard of Inuvik, didn't know where it was, but figured it was up north, . . . way up north.  When I returned to Oklahoma, I found it on the Internet and the plans began to "go see for ourselves." 

During the spring of 2006, whenever anyone asked about our summer plans, Kay and I would respond, "We're going to the Artic in August."  Usually the inquisitor would ask again, "Where?"  When my nephew added with a bemused grin, "why?,"  I responded "because I want to."  That was the only reason I could think of. 

Elizabeth decided to go all the way to the Artic Circle and Claudia elected to travel up to Banff in Alberta, Canada.  As news of our plans spread, there were different reaction from people.  Women generally loved the idea of the four of us crowding into a GMC Yukon and venturing north on our own.  Men had different reactions.  "Are you taking a gun?"; "What about the terrible roads?"  "Are you going to camp?"  "Do you have a CB radio in that car?"  "You're going to fly, aren't you?"  "You're not going all that way by yourselves, are you?"

Finally, August 18, 2006 arrived and we were off.  We drove to Fort Collins, Colorado the first day and Butte, Montana on the second.  The days of driving were filled with talk, good weather and good laughter.  Claudia is a computer and Blackberry whiz.  Most of one afternoon was spent teaching Elizabeth how to text message on her cell phone and watching "CRASH" on the DVD player as the flat plains of Kansas rolled past us. 

By Sunday noon, we were in Great Falls, Montana and hungry.  We stopped at a charming diner on the main street that is decorated in a 1950's decor; that, is - checkered tiles on the floor, a long soda fountain bar, small booths and tables, etc.  It was a great place and had good food. 

An elderly man captured my imagination as he sat alone, eating his soup.  He didn't talk to anyone and no one talked to him.

BANFF, ALBERTA, CANADA

We crossed over the U.S. border north of Shelby, Montana and ventured into Alberta, Canada around mid-afternoon, and after getting lost for a short time in Calgary, we made it to Banff in the evening. 

People were out walking along the streets of this mountain town and the aire was festive.  I had been in Banff once before and loved the feeling of being back in the Canadian Rockies.  These mountains are so massive that they make the U.S. Rockies seem like foothills at times.      

We ate lunch at the Banff Springs Hotel, a wonderful, castle-like, old hotel that sits on the side of a mountainside. On one of its large porches, beautiful flowers were in bloom.   The porch was on the second or third floor of the castle and looked out over the Bow River valley.  The Bow river winds around Banff and the surrounding land like an aqua snake that threads itself through mountain-lined valley.

In Banff - flowers are everywhere and thrive in the cool mountain temperatures.

You can even find them in alleys.

Petunias thrive in baskets - a wonder to me when I think of how many times I've tried to grow them in the hot Oklahoma summers!

 

 

                            BOW VALLEY PARKWAY (Highway 1A)            

Outside Banff, the Bow Valley Parkway leads to Lake Louise.                                                       

    The Parkway is a two lane highway and has wildlife in abundance as well as wonderful scenery of the Rockies.  Two summers ago Kay and I saw several bears along the parkway and people were amazed that we had seen so many.  I do believe that many drivers race along the highway and they miss all that is going on around them.  If one takes the time to look, I don't believe anyone could travel the parkway and see no wildlife.

On our first short drive along the parkway, we saw a bear not far from Banff.  Cars of other tourists were stopped on both sides of the two lane highway - forming  what is called by locals a "bear jam."  One has to be careful not to run over wildlife or reckless tourists intent on catching pictures of bears when driving on this parkway.  Later, we saw big horn sheep. They come down from the mountains to lick the salt on the highway.                                                      They are incredible creatures who seem fearless of trucks and cars speeding around them as they walk along and on the highway.  Of course, it could be that they are totally clueless of the danger that lurks on this parkway!  The Rockies are incredible!

                                                                                                                                      

 

 

                            LAKE LOUISE & MORAINE LAKE

On August 23, 2006 - we made our way to Lake Louise, taking the Bow Valley Parkway.  Lake Louise is a big tourist attraction and there is good reason that so many people from around the world love to see this lake and its glaciated mountains along its shores. 

Its color is so unusual and so beautiful - a phenomenon caused by the glacial silt in the lake, minerals in the water, and the blue of the sky. 

The water is quite clear.                 And it's a great place for pictures!                   

                        

   We took a gondola ride up the ski slope of Whiskyjack mountain.  It began raining on us when we got to the top.

  But rain or shine, it's a gorgeous view of Lake Louise across the valley.

After stopping at Lake Louise, we took the short but winding road up to Lake Moraine.  It's an emerald colored lake, and there is a small lodge with an excellent restaurant along its shoreline. 

While there we met a group of "young in spunk and spirit" group who called themselves the "SECOND 60's" club.  These energetic folks hike every Wednesday in the summer and go skiing every week during the winter.  It was a cloudy and rainy day but the drops and occasional slick spots on the mountain trails didn't stop them.

A stuffed black bear standing outside the lodge's gift shop was too much of a temptation for Claudia who decided to pose for another picture.  (Some folks will never pass up an opportunity for the paparazzi!)  Unfortunately, I couldn't get both the head of the bear in the picture and Claudia too.

On August 25, Claudia started back to OKC via Dallas in order to check on a new grandbaby whose grand entry into this world was scheduled.  But mother nature had other plans - and although Claudia was there, the baby decided to delay its debut.  Eventually the baby did come - and all was well and is well.

                          ONTO JASPER AND THE COLUMBIA ICEFIELDS

After Claudia left, we started up Highway 93 to Jasper.  North of Lake Louise, Highway 93 is known as the Icefields Parkway.  This route is lined by massive, glaciated Rockies that seem to go on forever.  Not far from Lake Louise is a wonderful, old lodge built in the 1920's by a man named Jimmy Simpson.  The lodge is called the Num-Ti-Jah Lodge and the mountain behind the lodge is named after Simpson.  The lake to

the east of the lodge is the Bow lake.

While we were there, a watercolor artist was taking advantage of the beautiful day to try some plein aire painting.  The restaurant served a good lunch of breads, soups, cold cuts and desserts.  After a relaxing stop, we continued up the Icefield Parkway.

The day was spectacular - cool, clear and sunny.                                                 

The Columbia Icefield covers over 240 square miles.  Approximately 58 miles from Jasper, a Canadian Parks Center has gigantic "Ice Explorers" which are buses with tires that are over 6 feet in diameter.  These buses shuttle tourists about a mile onto the Athabasca Glacier. These buses are used by the U.S. Government in Antartica as well.  There was a breeze on the day we were there and quite chilly.  I was glad we had on our coats as the wind swept down across the ice which is at least 1,000 feet thick where we were allowed to walk across the ice.  Blue horns along the ice were meant to warn tourists of pools of water created from thawing ice.  I was careless and stepped into one of them, testing the truth of the "waterproof advertising" for my boots. But standing atop a glacier is a wonderful experience, especially when one thinks of all the individual snowflakes that have fallen over the centuries to make this river of ice.  When one sees all of the tourists streaming across the ice, the glacier seems innocent of posing any danger to anyone.  But a healthy respect for this wonder of nature is a must.   A couple of years ago, one tourist hiked up the glacier (which is allowed) and fell into a crevass.  He died of hypothermia before help could arrive.   

Onto Jasper

It's hard to leave the Columbia Icefields.  But for those who know Canada - -there is so much more to see around the bend or at the turn. 

Not far from the Icefield Center is the Athabasca Falls which fall down through a very narrow canyon.  Hikers have tried to wade across the river close to the falls and have fallen to their deaths.  Some folks don't seem able to learn the lessons from the past in spite of all the warnings.   A young family was tempting nature while we were there - heedless of the history of these falls.                                                    

 

There were mountain goats not far from the falls.

And a young family once again seemed oblivious to the speeding cars as they got out along the road to see the goats "up close and personal."  They too seemed unable to learn from the warnings to beware of how close one gets to the wildlife - - to say nothing of the speeding cars and trucks whizzing by!

We arrived in Jasper around 6:00 p.m. and took a walk.  The old Jasper fire station is now an art center for local artists.   While Jasper is a tourist attraction, it continue to have a charming small mountain town aire about it.  We had dinner at a Greek restaurant called the Pallisade and walked to an internet cafe and emailed everyone at home.   The next morning, we caught the new day's light hitting the mountain behind the train station.  It would be incredible to get up every morning and be able to see the Canadian Rockies, regardless of the direction one looked. 

Last year, Kay and I drove out to Maligne lake which lies close to Jasper and which reminded me of Lake Louise.  While standing along its banks, a tour bus pulled up with vistiors from Tulsa, Oklahoma.  They were amazed that we had driven from Oklahoma.  I wonder what they would have thought if they knew where we were heading this year! 

                                                                                      MALIGNE LAKE

At this point, we had travelled through the Banff and Jasper National Parks.

From Jasper to Dawson Creek

On August 26, 2006 we left Jasper early in the morning and took Highway 16 west to Prince George, British Columbia and then caught Highway 97 to Dawson Creek.  It was a long day, and Elizabeth was "bone-weary" when we finally arrived that night. 

Along the way, we stopped to see Mount Robson which is the tallest mountain in the Canadian Rockies.  Kay and I had seen it a couple of summers ago, and on this morning, it was powdered with a dusting of snow at its top.  Seven to eight miles further down the road is the turn off for Rearguard Falls which is the end point of the King salmon migration.  We were able to spot two or three swimming up the falls to spawn.  I was surprised to see the kings still migrating so late in the season.  The falls are probably some of the goregeous I have ever seen.   

I was surprised to see that the Kings are still around so late in the summer.  When we fished in Ketchikan, Alaska years ago, the King run was over by the first of July.

It takes about 5 minutes or so to reach the falls which lie at the bottom of a downhill path.  And as with any "downhill" venture, one has to rise again eventually.  Kay used her hiking stick to help her get back up the path.  Elizabeth and I hiked back on our own power. 

We went on to Prince George, British Columbia, and stopped for a couple of hours at the local casino.  Elizabeth came out a few dollars ahead.  Kay and I contributed to the Canadian economy.  We ate at a pub called the Publik which is decorated in a Russian "Bolshevik" decor.  It was an interesting place and had great fish and chips.  Its cole slaw had a horseradish flair to it.

Finally we arrived at Dawson Creek which is Mile 0 of the Alaskan Highway.  The Alaskan Highway is a great two-lane highway that is well-paved and has wide shoulders.  A couple of years ago when I first drove the highway, I was concerned about its conditions - a concern that I realize now was more folklore than reality.  During the summer, there is ample gas (though one needs to be aware of it always).  I usually fill up every chance I get - and rarely fall below half a tank.  The wide shoulders allow for slower traffic to pull to the right to let others pass.  And in Canada, courtesy in driving continues to be the norm and there's a shortage of "wannabe Nascar competitors."  Also, there is little to no litter on the highways. . . probably due to the expensive fines that are provided for scenery polluters.  In downtown Dawson Creek, the 0 mile marker is a great place for pictures.      

The Alaska Highway

On August 27,  2006, we began our trek on the Alaska Highway  and drove from Dawson Creek to Fort Nelson, British Columbia.  This was a short driving day which was a relief to all.  You can tell by the smiles on the faces of Kay and Elizabeth.   While at Dawson Creek, we met a young couple from Texas who were moving to Anchorage with their infant and two little girls who were around 5 and 6 years old.  There were no smiles on the faces of that young couple who looked like they could each use a month of uninterrupted sleep.  I can't imagine driving across the North American continent with kids of that age!  Those young parents were probably engaged in the trip of a lifetime . . . . or at least one they will never forget no matter how hard they try!

One of the first things one notices on the Alaska Highway are all of the bugs and mosquitos.  (The joke among locals is that the mosquito is the Alaskan state bird!)  The closer one is to lakes and other sources of water, the more remains of various bugs accumulate on car windshields.  (Can't imagine riding a motorcycle without a helmet in these parts.  No telling what riders would find in their hair!)  We found a car wash and Elizabeth was drafted into working part-time.  It had rained off and on during the day, and we began seeing caribou along the road and rainbows decorating the sky for us.   

We ate at Dan's pub in Fort Nelson and had the best filet we had eaten the whole trip.  It's amazing how there are so many joys and surprises in the most unexpected places! 

We left Fort Nelson early the next morning, determined to make better time than we had been making.  Of course, after getting up and around so early, we had to stop for a small reward after an hour on the road.  The Testa River Campground is an "oasis in the desert!"  It is a rugged campground with few amenities to those of us who look at "roughing it" as an overnight stay in the Holiday Inn.  Yet, by far, the best cinnamon rolls on earth are baked daily there inside its small gift shop.  We sat at one of the tables inside the kitchen/shop and ate in the presence of stuffed wildlife along the walls, including a wolf standing on a shelf.  An old wood burning stove was in the corner and a young man informed us that it heated the entire building in the winter. 

The day was full with wildlife sightings.  A mountain goat seemed much too concerned with its mission for the day than to stop and take any time out of its day for us. 

More caribou were also moving in the area.  Further north, we would learn that the migration of caribou begins in the Artic region around mid-September.

  And there were always the rainbows.

Canada is filled with so many lakes.  Muncho lake lies between Fort Nelson and Watson Lake and seems to go on forever.  Reflections in its water are incredible. 

A herd of buffalo had its own traffic laws - which cars and trucks honored.     

The Alaska Highway (cont.)

On August 28, we drove from Fort Nelson in British Columbia to Teslin which is in the Yukon province of Canada.  After passing Muncho Lake, we came upon the Liard River Hotsprings which is a tropical wetlands area in the midst of the mountains.  A wooden boardwalk leads from the parking lot down to two hot pools where people can swim year-round.  These wetlands are enjoyed by bears and moose as well as folks passing by.

From the Liard Hot Springs, we crossed over into the Canadian province of the Yukon.   Shortly after crossing into the Yukon, we spotted a bear sitting in the wild flowers along the highway, eating roots to his heart's content.  He could barely be seen from the road, and we were lucky to see him only because he raised his head.  I got out of the car to take his picture because it was obvious that he was quite contented to just sit and eat.  I can certainly identify!  Black bears are not as large as the brown (or grizzly) bears nor do they have the hump in the middle of their shoulders like the brown.  They are more vegetarian also (which is a good thing for humans!).

The second largest town in the Yukon is Watson Lake with a population of around 1700.  Although it is described as "the gateway to the Yukon," its lodging services leave much to be desired.  A couple of summers ago, Kay and I tried to stop there and were quite disheartened when we opened the door to the motel room and realized there were more mosquitoes inside the filthy room than on the outside.  Kay declared that she would sleep in the car before staying the night and refused my suggestion that things would be fine if we left all of our clothes on, slept on top of the beds, and ran to the store for bug repellent.  After reaching no agreement, we decided that cool heads could make better decisions, and we decided to go to dinner and then decide whether to go on down the Alaska Highway.  Alas, after dinner, we came out of the cafe and ash from a huge forest fire was dropping from the sky, the sky had turned to a yellowish gray, and the sun was gone.  The fire, not cool heads, urged us onward and we took off toward Whitehorse around 6:00 p.m.  Unfortunately, more forest fires were around us and for the first 40 minutes of driving, we saw only one other car.  It was somewhat like the Twilight Zone - - Eventually we discovered that the reason for no traffic was because the road had been closed due to fires ahead of us. Kay got her wish.  We spent most of that night sitting in our car at different spots on the Alaska Highway, waiting for the road to open!  We finally reached Whitehorse around 3:00 a.m.

After that experience, we have skipped Watson Lake and gone on to Teslin, almost 200 miles away, to spend the night.  Teslin is between Whitehorse and Watson Lake.  But a stop in Watson Lake is always in order because of its Signpost Forest.  Begun in 1942 as the Alaska Highway was being built, the signs are left by travelers on the highway to mark their passing by.  We did the same. 

Our sign was a pizza pan that was made by Claudia who noted our friendship and the fellowship that has shaped our friendship.

As we neared Teslin, the mountainsides became clothed with a mantle of golden aspens, yellows, reds, and oranges.  Fall was upon us. . . another unexpected surprise of the north!

In Teslin, we stayed at the Yukon Motel which lies next to the Nisutlin Bay Bridge.  Few amenities are available in its rooms - but it is clean and the restaurant has good food.  It is also home to a moose that formed a huge crush on Elizabeth when he met her. 

On August 29, 2006, we drove to Whitehorse which has a population of 22,000 and is the capital of the Yukon.  The fact quoted by locals to visitors is that "there are more moose in the Yukon than human beings." We have found no reason to doubt the truth of that oft repeated statement.  Outside Whitehorse is a lake that is a resting place for migratory birds during the spring.  It's called "Swan Haven" and was a great place for a picture.

  Kay as a chemical dependency counselor has always been interested in human behavior.  Elizabeth, on the other hand, . . . .

After a brief coffee break in Whitehorse, we turned north to take the Klondike Highway (Highway 2) to Dawson City where we would find the Dempster Highway.  The Dempster would take us into the Artic Circle.

On the Klondike to Dawson City

The Klondike Highway connects Whitehorse with Dawson City to the North.  It is a paved, 323 mile route with the great Yukon River winding its way along side of it in long stretches.  

Not enough can be said about the Yukon River in terms of its size and its potential.  One Whitehorse citizen lamented to us last year that the river hasn't been utilized by Canadians to the degree she felt it could be in terms of bringing tourists and entertainment to the region.

The Klondike has few spots to stop and rest, but there were some that were memorable.  Moose Creek is a rustic stop with log cabins and a small cafe/office of sorts.  At its front entrance stands a wooden statue of the most populous of creatures in that part of the world during the warm season - - the mosquito!  Kay was one of its victims - -

Women in the Yukon are gutsy entrepeneurs.  Moose Creek is in the middle of nowhere - and not exempt from bears, moose, and other wildlife.  Yet, it's human population is meager.

Autumn only lasts a couple of weeks in the north.  And once it comes, the places to stop along the Klondike close down for the winter.  On the way up to Dawson, we had stopped at "Penny's Place" and found that the little wooden structure that looked like a large firecracker stand had great ice cream and shakes.  It also had an outhouse which was the real reason for the stop.  By the time we returned a week later, it had closed for the winter - a true sign that snow was not far behind.

But there is nothing like the Klondike Highway in autumn!

   

                                 Nor the Yukon River!   

Dawson City lies around 165 miles south of the Artic Circle.  It built on permafrost and has wooden planked sidewalks and unpaved roads.  We stayed at the Downtown Hotel which is a wooden structure that is painted red.  Although it looks somewhat uninviting in pictures, it is quite modern inside and is a lodging choice for tour companies.  Dawson has fewer than 2,000 in population and once was the capital of the Yukon.  It eventually lost its status to Whitehorse which became a center of trade, etc.  But its "frontier" quality leaves it as an enchanting stop.

But is also has its own set of bureaucratic rules.  Apparently the traffic is such a problem that folks must be directed in where to park on the half deserted main street!

One of the phenomena that we wanted to see on this trip were the Northern Lights.  Unfortunately, clouds, rain and sleep prohibited us from catching a glimpse of this wonder.  But on our way home along the Klondike, on a sunny afternoon, we were treated with the sight of a rainbow colored cloud overhead.  We watched it for over 15 minutes and I was able to catch a picture which doesn't do it justice.  Although this wasn't the Northern Lights, we couldn't help but feel that this surprise was somehow related to that wonder. 

Dempster Highway

The Dempster Highway begins around 25 miles outside of Dawson and ends at Inuvik, 456 miles north into the Artic Circle.  I had seen pictures of it in the fall and realized that I wanted to be on it during the first of September.  Although locals say it is "well traveled in the summer," the exact meaning of that phrase is unclear to me.  Actually, I would describe it as somewhat desolate and definitely remote.

There are no services along this unpaved route across the Artic tundra except for a small motel half way to Inuvik called Eagle Plains and a native community further north called Fort MacPherson.  Hence planning is a good idea to insure a bed at the Eagle Plains motel since the trip to Inuvik takes two days.  Locals also recommend that travelers carry at least two spare tires.  I carried one, and it came to good use on the trip back.  And when I write about no services, I mean no services!  There are no gas stations, cafes, McDonald's, Burger Kings or 7-!!'s.  On this trip, we all became quite adept at finding and using outhouses along the way - and we could rate them in terms of cleanliness, odor and warmth of the toilet lid.

For all of its ruggedness - the Dempster is a wonder to behold - especially in the fall when the snow is beginning to salt the mountaintops. 

The Tombstone Valley/Campground is not far from the beginning of the Dempster, and it was undoubtedly the most beautiful place I have ever seen.  A river runs through the valley and caribou come through here on their migration to the south in late September.  It is such an awesome sight that travelers just stand and gaze - most of the time in utter silence. 

The colors are so vivid and unusual, I imagined that during the creation of the seasons here, God took His divine palette and threw all of these colors onto the mountains and into the valleys.  But there is always more to see . . .

When one goes up one mountain and looks out over a valley, there is always another valley and lake right ahead.

The vastness of this wilderness was breathtaking!

At one point, we stopped and got out of the car to walk along the tundra.  It was like walking on a sponge - the ground giving away slightly with each step.  Hunters drive their trucks out onto the tundra to search for caribou, bear and moose.  Its height and thickness produces a good cover for wildlife.  As we drove along the Dempster on the first day, we saw a mother bear and cub cross the road less than a half mile ahead of us.  By the time we reached the spot, she and her young one had disappeared into the fauna.

The Dempster Highway is built on the tundra - and it is obvious that the Yukon highway department continually attempts to keep it built up and maintained.  We saw maintenance crews along several sections of the highway through the summer.  Yet trucks, rain and the hard winters result in the highway being quite a challenge to drive, especially in the rain which transforms it into a slick highway of mud.  On one morning, we saw a couple riding their bike and trying to cycle up the side of a slick mountainside of coal black mud.  None of us dreamed that they would make it up that mountain or  survive their marriage.  (The young wife was at the foot of the mountain and the husband was half way up, motioning and hollering at her to keep pedaling!)  A week later, we saw the young couple in Whitehorse, and they continued to appear to be together, at least for the time being.

At one rest stop, we saw an Inushuk.  This stone formation is seen throughout the North along the highways and the different hiking trails.  It was used by Northern peoples as a  sign indicating direction as well as a sign for friendship.  Locals tell us that it will be the sign for the winter Olympics to be held in Vancouver, British Columbia.

On the afternoon of our first day of travel on the Dempster, we reached the Eagle Plains motel.  This stop has gas and tire service (which we would need on the trip back).  The motel has a restaurant and is open year-round.  The rooms are not the Hilton but it is a welcome rest stop in this area of the world.  Elizabeth met another wild friend and stopped for a picture!  We also met a family with two teenage boys and a young daughter.  The parents were moving the family from Jacksonville, Florida to Inuvik to set up Baptist churches.  I could not imagine being a teenager and moving from the sunny, mild climate of Florida to the cold, dark climate of the North.  But the parents were open and friendly and told us to contact them through the Baptist minister in Inuvik if we needed their help at any time.

After breakfast the next morning, we continued our journey.  A brisk wind out of the east brought low clouds to the mountains which soon became treeless and a dark gray.

Eventually the clouds turned to rain and we didn't stop for over 3 hours - except to catch a picture when we crossed the Artic Circle.                   

The morning was cold and the wind made us realize that we were in the far North!

   The road became slippery with the rain and driving on the Dempster reminded me of driving over snow slick roads during the winter.  But the rain also brought the beautiful northern rainbows!   

Later in the afternoon, we passed over into the Northwest Territory!

And around 4:30, we came to Inuvik.

Inuvik

On August 31, 2006, we pulled into Inuvik around 4:30 p.m.  Inuvik is the furthest community in the North that is accessible by automobile in the summer.   It lies along the banks of the Mackenzie River Delta which makes any further driving north impossible.  But in the winter, it all changes because the River becomes a frozen highway to the Arctic Ocean. Locals plow a "road" across the ice and drive to Tuktoyaktuk, a native hamlet which lies about 100 miles north on the banks of the Arctic Ocean.  Locals continually told us that it is much easier to travel up here in the winter. . . not that I am considering going back in winter to see for myself! 

Those who are versed in geography know that Oklahoma City is north of Dallas, Texas.  The map above is one that shows the access to the North by air travel.  But it also gives one an idea of how far we drove on this jaunt across the North American Continent!  Every time I look at a map, I can hardly believe we actually took off and did it!  I wanted to find a road map from Oklahoma City to Inuvik - but couldn't find one on the Internet.  I guess there's not much demand for such! 

Inuvik has a population of over 3500 people.  We stayed at the Nova Inn which was the first motel we came to when we turned off the Dempster into Inuvik.  It was newly constructed and painted in bright colors of yellow and light green.  Each room has an air cooler, a fireplace with gas logs, and satellite TV.  (The Saturday after we arrived, we watched the University of Oklahoma play the University of Alabama at Birmingham in the first football game of the season.  I wondered how many other Sooners watched the game from within the Arctic Circle!)  Another large hotel is newly constructed and when asked the reason for the "boom" in hotel building, the locals said businessmen frequented Inuvik throughout the year.  There is hope that the oil companies will become interested in this part of the world and be lured here before the Alaska's oil reserves are opened for exploration. 

The buildings in Inuvik are built on piers due to the permafrost.  The community also utilizes above-ground conduits or huge pipes for its utilities since the permafrost prohibits the burying of sewer and water pipes.  These conduits are called "utilidors."   Trucks come by and deliver fresh water and to pick up sewage on a regular basis.  It is expensive to live in the North.  We met a young woman who worked as a bank teller during the day and a bartender at night and on weekends to make ends meet.  Her rent was $1750 a month for a one bedroom apartment.

The igloo church is a big attraction in Inuvik.  We missed the daily times when it is opened for tours.  And although the Inuvik golf course is advertised as having 3 holes built, we could only find a driving range which lies below the town dump.  We dropped by the dump on a couple of afternoons in the hopes of seeing bears that would occasion the site for a scavenger hunt.  But we had no luck seeing anything but a couple of bald eagles on top of garbage.  Regardless of my fascination with the north, there was nothing to distinguish the dump at Inuvik from the dumps in other cities!

Even though it was the first of September, the days were long with dusk coming after 10:00 p.m every night.  This sunset picture was taken out of our hotel window around 10:30 one night. 

On the final day of our stay in Inuvik, we visited the Interpretative Center that has a beautiful sculpture outside its entrance.

  I didn't get a picture of it that would do it justice.  While we were at the Center, a staff member asked if we would stay and meet the Deputy Mayor, Arlene Hansen.  We agreed and within a few minutes, an energetic woman with an easy smile and laugh burst into the Center with her small grandson Xavier.  She announced that we had been selected as the "Visitors of the Week" in Inuvik, and we posed for a picture with her, accepting gifts from merchants of the community.  The picture was published in the newspaper, The Inuvik Drum, and Mayor Hansen sent us copies.  The newspaper is not on-line - and alas, the 15 minutes of fame that Kay, Elizabeth and I finally achieved in our lives could not be witnessed worldwide.  Such is life.

Tuktoyaktuk

Our first morning (September 1, 2006) in Inuvik was leisurely.  We took our time having coffee and watching CNN on satellite TV.  After our trip up the Dempster, we were tired and felt like we were a long way from home . . . CNN is not my favorite news channel - but it was good to see it that morning.  After a continental breakfast, we visited Inuvik's Interpretive Center and a young woman told us of the tour to Tuktoyaktuk, a native hamlet on the Arctic Ocean which was approximately 100 miles north.  We made our way over to the tour office and soon realized that the end of the tourist season was upon us and many of the normal activities for tourists were closed or closing.  Although a flight to Tuk had not been scheduled for the day, enough tourists showed up and by 1:00 p.m., Kay and I were on our way to the Inuvik airport where we boarded a one engine Cessna to fly to Tuk.  On board were a father and his son as well as a rotund man with gray hair from Austria whom we had met at the Arctic Circle on the way to Inuvik.  (We had asked him to take a picture of all three of us - and he agreed to take one but only one.  He refused to take any with my camera when I asked. C'est la vie!  He was a man who knew his limitations!)  As we were boarding, the young man remarked to the boyish looking pilot, "I heard you lost a plane a couple of weeks ago."  My heart skipped several hundred beats when the boy pilot in whose hands I had given my life replied, "Yeah, and we don't know what happened.  He was our best pilot!"

The Inuvik airport was not J.F.K.  It was not even Wiley Post in OKC.  But we eventually made it into the air and my trepidation eventually eased when my mind became focused on the tundra and lakes of the Mackenzie River Delta.   Near Tuk we saw "pingos" which are unique to this area of the world.  Pingos are volcanic looking hills created by lakes, ice, and the permafrost.   There is a large one close to Russia but except for that one, pingos are unique to the area surrounding Tuk.

Tuktoyaktuk is an Inuit hamlet on the coast of the Beaufort Sea of the Arctic Ocean.   There are around 600 people who live in this community which has no trees nor any other barriers between it and the open sea.   We landed on the gravel airport runway and coasted to its bright blue terminal building.

Tuk lies about 50 miles from the Arctic ice cap.                   

Ricky Mac, our Inuit guide, and his 10 year old son, Blaine, met us at the airport.  Life in this community is much like it has been for years and years.  An icehouse is shared by the community.  Inside a white wood-planked shed that appears to be another outhouse there is a ladder that leads 25 feet down into the permafrost.  At the foot of the ladder is a long hallway carved out of the ice has "rooms" jutting out.  Three families share a room and store their meat there for the year.  The rooms stay 3-4 degree (c) throughout the year.  Homes are built on piers as they are in Inuvik, and fishing and hunting are the community's main "industries" - and evidence of this is found throughout the hamlet.  Many of the buildings are decorated with the antlers of caribou, moose, etc.                                 

The Catholic and Episcopal churches also show the community's ties to hunting and fishing.  The altars of both churches were draped in seal skin. Antlers were used as candle holders on the Catholic altar.   Christmas lights and the head of a caribou with antlers decorate the steeple of the Catholic church.                                       

The Catholic church had a larger worship center and was in a newer building than its Anglican sister. The Anglican church is the oldest in Tuk, and its building needs a bit of T.L.C. The benches are made of wood and the building is heated by a wood stove which sits right in the middle of the aisle.  I imagine that the opening procession of priests, acolytes, etc is a bit different here than in a lot of other Episcopal churches around the world.  But in spite of its structural difficulties, there was an attractive simplicity here that was remarkable. 

  The Inuits hunt polar bear and will guide individuals on hunts for $20,000 per person.  Our guide emphasized that polar bears must be hunted with dogs to insure that the bears don't circle back and begin hunting the "hunters."  Sled dogs are fed two fish every other day and on hot days, they just get water. The community also uses smoke houses for their fish and it continues to hunt whales today with spears.  If guns are used to hunt the whales, Ricky explained that the whales will just sink when shot.

While in Tuk, Kay and I walked barefoot in the Arctic ocean - but we didn't walk far.  The rocks were so sharp - it was absolutely brutal! But what a dream come true!!!!

Back Down the Dempster

We left Inuvik and started back down the Dempster Highway at the end of the first week of  September, 2006.  As we  drove away from Inuvik, we realized that fall is really brief in the North.  The fall colors were at their zenith and the mountains had more snow at their tops. 
There are two ferry rides along the Dempster Highway.  A short time out of Inuvik, a ferry crossing lies at the Makenzie River.  No formalities are used to board these ferries.  A sign at the top of a hill informs cars to stop and wait for the attendant of the ferry to wave one down to board.  It's mud road in the rain and a dirt road on other days that leads to the ferry.  Very informal and cost effective. When we got to the ferry, a young Inuit man waved us onto the boat and as we eased onto the ferry, nothing seemed amiss.

We had been underway for only a few minutes when a young man knocked on my window and informed me that my "Goodyear puncture resistant" tire was punctured and flat as the proverbial pancake!  I was not happy - especially since the tire was new and I had stopped to have it checked before I left OKC and once in Colorado because it was losing air on a daily basis.  But I was repeatedly assured that, "m'am, there's nothing wrong with that tire" each time I stopped to have it checked. In fact, I had begun thinking that I was the problem - and that the 5 pounds of missing air daily was merely a figment of my imagination. It was all in my head.  But here I was: 4800 miles away from OKC, miles north of the Arctic Circle with no service stations within two hundred miles of us.  And that tire was flat!  So much for Goodyear's puncture resistant tires!  (And I might add:  So much for the Goodyear warranty which wasn't honored either!) 

The ferry attendant was a kind young Inuit who was quick to realize that he was going to have a Yukon XL on his ferry for the rest of the day and night  (and perhaps, life)- or he was going to need to find some time to change a flat.  Plus, he had three women on his hands who obviously had no idea how to handle this situation.  As a result, we managed to get the tire changed as the ferry continued its route.  Thus we crossed the Makenzie River three or four times that morning with the attendant working on our flat between ferry landings.  But when we left, we were driving on all four tires and the nice young Inuit man was a bit richer from a well deserved tip.

Any frustration disappeared as we continued down the Dempster.