“In solitude is healing. Speak to your soul. Listen to your heart. In the absence of noise we find the answers.”
The Great White North
My motto of 2019 was expect the unexpected. If you had told me five years ago that I would live in East Africa and then move to a small town in Northern Canada I wouldn’t have believed you (so much for the 5-year plan), but here I am, confused as ever and starting to feel comfort in that confusion. I don’t know what fork in the road led me here, so for now, I my revelling in the solitude that the North brings. The isolation has certainly given me a place to think, to feel, and to figure out what I I see as my purpose here on this planet. It has driven me to derive a meaning for my life and how best to align with my values.
I have also learned a lot about life in the North, and its pull, that draws people to stay years beyond their expectations. I have noticed in my interactions that there are certain types of people more attracted to the lifestyle the North offers. Self-defined hermits that enjoy the distance from the hectic, rushed pace of burgeoning urban centres. The peace you find in the North is unparalleled. The open expanse of blue sky provides a feeling of space, of fresh air, of peace. With this space however, comes isolation. Communities that are hard to reach physically and difficult to leave due to the monetary rewards of higher paying salaries. Where the summers are beautifully short, transcending rapidly into the darkness of long winters. How does one survive the winter? Various answers to this question, like wine, music, snowmobiling etc. One thing is for sure that unless you are purposefully seeking to avoid contact with other humans, then the importance of a supportive community becomes elevated. I believe this is important wherever you reside, however, when your options of activities and events are limited, friends whom you actually enjoy spending time with are that much more necessary. There are wonderful communities of artists in these remote regions who use the winter time to exercise their creative senses and prepare for the summers when they can share their talents with their community. Undoubtedly, the North offers vast wilderness and expansive landscapes like anywhere else I’ve seen (read my previous blog about Churchill here).
This remoteness of course doesn’t sacrifice basic access to the things you need to survive, although recreational seekers with acute interests may need to get a bit crafty to fulfill their pleasures. One thing I can say is that the quality of physical and mental health care is sub-par, as there is a definite lack of resources. Fort St. John doesn’t even have one Registered Psychologist, for a town of 20,000 people working stressful jobs driven by the booms and busts of a resource economy! And so, the North truly is a place for one to retreat into thyself and look inward. A place to gain the confidence in that you can be OK on your own, and where you seek out your people in times of need. For centuries, the North has bred strong warriors, peoples who can survive in the harshest of conditions. I’d like to think I’m a warrior but to be honest, I don’t think I’m a true Northern being. I am proud though, of the progress I’ve made over the past year. Slowly but surely I am getting to that place where I do feel comfortable on my own, and am beginning to trust in the divine process the Universe has set out for me.
I acknowledge the Indigenous Peoples of these traditional territories and am grateful and blessed to be born on this land that my family is settlers of. I recognize the harms that have occurred, which are still affecting people to this day, and the shared responsibility we all hold in the ongoing process of Truth and Reconciliation of Indigenous Peoples and their inherent rights. My friend shared a wonderful Ted Talk by Nikki Sanchez and one of the most resonating quotes for me was: “This history is not your fault. But it is your responsibility”. She speaks earnestly about the fact that we live in times when global consciousness is being raised to a level where we can see through each others eyes; “the eyes of the serpent (South) can see through the eyes of the eagle (North)”, and with this knowingness it is all of our responsibility to acknowledge the truths of our existence here on this planet.
First Steps in Decolonization:
Learn who you are and where you came from.
Address the oppressive systems and histories that enable you to occupy the territory you now do.
Learn whose land you live on and what has been done to them.
Find out how you benefit from that history and activate one strategy wherein you can use your privilege from which to dismantle that.
Share the knowledge that the work of Decolonization is for everyone.
“Solitude is dangerous. It’s addicting. Once you see how peaceful it is, you don’t want to deal with people. ”
Last summer I used my vacation for a solo trip Northwards. I drove from Fort St. John to Yellowknife and back, a 15 hour trip one way and just over 3,300 km round trip. Audible was a life saver on the long stretches of highway, just me and the trees. I definitely felt the solitude on this trip, but I didn’t feel lonely. In fact, it was deeply healing. I camped along the way and felt extremely proud every time I got a fire started on my own. Looking into the burning embers with a glass of hot cocoa or wine and my music humming with gushing waters echoing in the background is a memory I’ll hold dear every winter to come. The bugs were atrocious, but the scenery was most definitely worth every kilometre. The North is a special place. I attended two musical festivals on this journey and met some of the most heart-opening human beings on this planet. I let the bass overtake me under the stars on sacred land, and danced to soulful rhythms under the magic of the Midnight Sun. I was so filled with joy over these two weeks that when my DSLR camera suffered from an accident that left me to rely on my iPhone, I actually laughed. I learned a lot about myself on this trip and have a deep respect for the North and people residing here. Thank you for your presence.
Day 1: Driftpile to High Level, Alberta
I left Driftpile after attending Astral Harvest Music Festival. I had been seeking a sense of belonging and community and I found that it’s always been right here (i.e. in Edmonton as that is where majority of my soul family now resides). After dancing, crying, laughing and sharing all the feels I started the journey North. The Mackenzie Highway begins at Mile Zero in Grimshaw, Alberta, a small town at it’s finest. Everything is closed on Sundays and it very well could have been a ghost town was it not for the green ground, beaming blue sky and golden hour hues enhanced by the setting sun. I filled up on gas, took some photos of trains and continued northwards and upwards. On the way I made a stop at the lookout of the Peace River Valley. This is the same river that flows through Fort St. John and is monumental of the Peace Region. After the first 4km, the Mackenzie Highway becomes Highway 35 leading to the Northwest Territories where it eventually becomes Highway 1.
Grimshaw
High Level
I was initially meant to drive to Hay River this day, but recognizing that I was exhausted from the festival and being lulled to sleep by the highway, I decided to set up camp in High Level. If you recall, High Level was heavily affected by forest fires that summer and was still on high alert as I drove through. Smoke filled the air at times and the burnt trees to each side of the horizon highway looked apocalyptic. After a good night’s sleep I carried on the next day to the NWT!
Day 2: High Level to Hay River
I was very excited to reach the Northwest Territories (NWT). I’ve never thought of exploring this area at this point in my life, but I try to make the most of my living situation at any given time so this seemed like the perfect opportunity. Plus I’m a bit of a travel addict and the ability to explore an area that very few people in this world have explored was the trumpet call my wandering soul couldn’t resist. I can’t describe the feeling, but you may have felt it, that moment when all time stops and you’re filled with utmost peace, and are at one with the Universe; that’s the feeling I get when I’m moving to an unknown destination.
The 60th Parallel is the border between Alberta and the NWT. I stopped in at the Visitor’s Centre, took a mandatory selfie and continued on to Twin Gorges National Park. This park is a true feat of nature. As described by the Visitor’s Centre, this park “encompasses the 32-metre-high Alexandra Falls, where the Hay River plunges into a deep limestone canyon and then, a few kilometres later, where it drops again, off the three-tiered Louise Falls. The park services several dizzying overlooks as well as a dramatic 138-step spiral staircase leading down to the lip of Louise Falls”. The land is home to the local Dene Peoples, and it’s sacredness is felt as soon as you set foot on the ground. I can only imagine how the first inhabitants felt stepping onto this land, in tune to the offerings of Mother Earth . It’s a place that makes you stand back in awe, appreciation and admiration. It makes you feel small yet connected to something much greater than yourself. The realization that nothing else in the world matters other than the Divine Life Force and the Creator that gave us life. This land heals, this land gives, this land forgives, and this land perseveres against all odds.
60th Parallel, Twin Gorges Territorial Park
Hay River
I arrived in Hay River that evening and met with a friend of a friend who showed me around the quaint town. It is home to 3,500 people and sits on the shore of the Great Slave Lake (South Slavey), providing a setting for spectacular sunsets.
Day 3: Hay River to Fort Resolution to Lady Evelyn Falls
This was quite the day, potentially too much driving and ground to cover that left me feeling anxious and a bit ungrounded, but I did it anyways and am thankfully still here to tell the tale. I made a friend on the shore, this lovely Husky with an old wise soul who kept me company. The winds were cold but the sun comforted us with its warmth.
Fort Resolution
This journey was about 2 hours from Hay River on the East Side of Great Slave Lake and through Pine Point, an abandoned mine which really did feel like a ghost town. I was a bit spooked out by Fort Resolution. Mission Island still had remnants of propaganda religious advertising. I felt some uneasy energy from this area, no doubt the residue of Canada’s residential schools and colonization of the Dene culture. After reminiscing along the shores of Great Slave Lake I stopped off at a neat old school gas station with mouth-watering soft serve ice cream where you could make your own Slushie float - yumm.
Lady Evelyn Falls
I had to drive back to Hay River and around the west side of Great Slave Lake to reach this campground. I set up my camp and went down to the Falls. It was just me and Mother Nature, admiring the dimming sky and rainbow reflections of the peaceful falls. I eventually had to run back to my fire to avoid getting eaten alive by mosquitos.
Mosquitoes are the annoyance of the evening time, but that morning it was the hornets and wasps. They loved my neon green tent and my breakfast so I packed up in an erratic state and stuffed everything in my car before running back to the falls for one more dip in the fresh water. I was bid farewell with my own personal rainbow.
Day 4: Lady Evelyn Falls to Fort Providence to Yellowknife
After paying for my night stay and getting some boiling water for my travel mug, I noticed this bird who had hurt its wing and was recovering under the Warden’s cabin bench. It looked like it was trying to mend it (see the fluffy feather in their beak). God speed to this little bird that eventually found the strength to fly away.
Fort Providence
This is the last stop to fill up on gas before the stretch of bumpy highway to Yellowknife. This station thankfully also served Slushie floats which I happily filled up on once again (I was on vacation right don’t judge). I visited the local Dene Fur shop where locals design various articles from traditional beaver trapping lines. I ate my ice cream at this beautiful lakeside, dodging the wasps as they attacked me and my goods.
Highway 1 to Yellowknife
This stretch of highway was quite the journey. The part that is paved is like a winding snake with rollercoaster ups and downs created by the freeze-thaw motion of the underground permafrost layer. The last 60km to Yellowknife is unpaved highway. Along this highway you meet the migration of the Great Buffalo. This is a slow moving mammal that you want to drive with extreme caution around. I stopped at Rae-Edzo Tlicho Community along the way. There were a few kids playing in the street but other than that it was quiet. I wish to learn more about Canada’s Indigenous Communities and how their way of life has been impacted through colonization. I hope that I am one day in a position to use my knowledge and privilege to more equitably distribute the wealth of this nation. Till then, I humbly acknowledge that I know very little and my only way of helping is to be an ally and stand up for acts of injustice by raising my vibrations and doing the work to heal my own personal and intergenerational traumas so that I can be of service to others.
This is the last photo that I took with my precious Canon D70. I’ll let you in on a funny secret. I laid a squat here and left my camera on the roof of my car and then drove away. HAH! We must learn to be humble and laugh out loud at ourselves at times like these, for we all make mistakes. That camera and I had many good times together and I’ve learned that I need to triple check any public area before leaving because I tend to leave little pieces of myself all over the place.
Day 5 - 8: Yellowknife
From here on the photos are all from my iPhone, please excuse the change in quality. We accept our fortunes and misfortunes with grace.
I got to Yellowknife just in time for sunset. I drove right to Tincan Hill and drank my remaining cider, admiring the view of the city and Frame Lake to the west with the outskirts of Great Slave Lake to the East. Before heading to my new pal Tia’s place where I couchsurf’d for a couple nights I went to the acclaimed Bullock’s Bistro for the best fish in town and then for a craft brew at NWT Brewery. Tia was a treat and she introduced me to her crew whom became my family at Folk on the Rocks music festival over the weekend. Her character house was nestled among the archaic boulders signature of Yellowknife. She is a proud dog-mama and runs her own care centre for pups while their owners are away. She is a beautiful soul and I’m so happy to have met her and her friends Natasha, Derek and Julaine.
The following morning I set out for Cameron Falls. Important lessons I learned: never leave for a solo hike without a fully charged cell phone battery and a GPS. At one point I got lost and the rain started coming down and the thought of not being able to find my way back to the trail was very alarming. Thank you Spirit for guiding me back to the path, and point taken! The falls were beautiful. The entire area surrounding Yellowknife is so serene and lovely, and my words aren’t sufficient to describe it. The ancient boulders, the reindeer lichen, the moss, the fungi, the flowers. I had to stop several times to sit and admire the beauty of it all. The only thing that got me back up were the swarms of mosquitos.
The following day a did a tour of Yellowknife. For a town of only 20,000, it has much to offer in terms of landscape, culture and eclectic urban art. I learned about the Territorial Government at the Legislative Assembly Building. It was refreshing to hear that the government is run by consensus vote and has a diverse panel with many woman-identifying Members of Parliament. I went on a tour of the Prince of Wales Heritage Centre where I admired Indigenous Art and learned about the history of the North. Many White Settlers would absolutely not have survived their first winters in these extreme cold conditions if it were not for the Indigenous Peoples who shared their knowledge of the land. I walked up to Bush Pilot’s Monument for a great view of the city and harbour, observing the float planes as they took off for flight. The town is a treasure-chest of art murals providing a backdrop for a wonderful walking tour.
At the music festival I was in awe of all the artists and creativity filling the space. I listened to a wide variety of music from artists around the world. I made new friends who took me to their houseboats and showed me how they get to and from by kayak every day. Yellowknife was magical and I left with a yearning to explore more of the North. I felt a strong sense of community in Yellowknife and could see myself living here. I’d have to toughen up a bit more to the cold and decide what creative venue I would use to my express myself in the dark months though. One day, oh one day.
Day 9 - 10: Yellowknife to Fort St. John
It took me two days to get back to Fort St. John. This time the drive was fast as I didn’t make many stops. Only a couple, to admire the setting sun along the tree horizon and the blooming canola fields. I spent one more night at the Hay River campground before making the journey back to my temporary home in Fort St. John. And so it was that despite the advice I got from many not to undertake this trip for it was “unsafe for a woman to go alone on such a long drive”, I did it, and I am proud that I trusted myself enough to undertake this journey. May you too trust yourself enough to embark on whatever journey is calling you.
“I knew that if I allowed fear to overtake me, my journey was doomed. Fear, to a great extent, is born of a story we tell ourselves, and so I chose to tell myself a different story from the one women are told. I decided I was safe. I was strong. I was brave. Nothing could vanquish me.”