Still Winter After All These Months

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The Wily Ones

For quite some time, I've been carrying around in the back of my mind the notion that I should write a blog post about coyotes. Today, I decided to finally write it, spurred on by a certain post I read this morning. In preparation, I started looking around for info on coyotes. Well, I can sum up all the reference material in one word: Boring!

Coyotes--for those who have had no contact at all with them and might not know this--are one of the most fascinating creatures in all creation, and a collection of coyote facts just doesn't do them justice.* So, I've decided it's phfft! to all the reference material, but forward ho! without it. That's why the subtitle to this post is Everything I Know About Coyotes Without Looking Anything Up.

First, let's talk about what we call these wild dogs. Did you know that they have them in northern Minnesota, where I grew up, but they don't call them coyotes? They call them brush wolves, and old farmers there may even tell you that they don't have coyotes, only timber wolves and brush wolves. But a coyote by any other name, even if it's a little bigger than the coyotes here in the Yukon, is still a coyote. And even when we agree on the word coyote as their proper name, we still may pronounce that name differently. My dad, the Kansas farm kid turned eastern Colorado cowboy calls them ky-oats (first syllable rhymes with sky, second syllable with porridge, accent on first syllable), while in the Yukon and almost everywhere else, they're called ky-oat-tees (sky, porridge, type of shirt, accent on second syllable). Growing up, my dad told me that only silly sissified city folk called them ky-oat-tees, but I've since learned that is not completely accurate.

In the Yukon, this is the time of year when we are most likely to have coyotes right around our homes. Food is scarcer in the bush during the dead of winter, and they come to town to wander the streets looking for tasty garbage or even an available small pet. Several years ago, on a lovely forty below zero day, I walked over to my local elementary school to do some reading with students. As I approached the school, I noticed a coyote digging through the garbage can right up next to the main entrance of the school. He saw me, quickly grabbed a full lunch bag in his mouth and trotted off. Lately we've been seeing a coyote walking the street in front of our house, and I suspect when the garbage can beside the house was overturned and the remains our yummy food garbage spread down the driveway, across the street and on into the bush, it was coyote work.

The small pet thing is the reason we don't let our cat Leroy outside except by mistake. Sure he's sixteen pound of pure muscle and afraid of nothing--some of the local big dogs have lost fights with him--but he's no roadrunner. Neither was our previous dog, an old, friendly, deaf and lame Samoyed, who had his own won't-you-be-my-dinner run-in with coyotes.

Here's the story, but I'll give you fair warning: The dog doesn't die in the end, so this one won't win a Newbery Medal for children's literature. On a January morning several years ago I left the gate open while fetching something from the garage. The dog wandered out, as he often did, and I thought nothing much of it. He would usually walk down the street a bit, greet anyone out and about, and make his way home again. No worry, right? But that day something bothered me about the whole scenario and I went out to fetch him, just in time to see him loping off into the bush after a coyote. Then I saw the second coyote fold in behind from out of nowhere and I knew our old dog was a goner. He was deaf, remember, so calling him back to me was useless. But he turned, glanced back and saw me, and I motioned for him to come. For once in his life, he obeyed on command, and it saved his live.

Part of what makes coyotes so interesting is that they're not particularly frightened of us. That's partly why they've adapted so well--perhaps too well--to the spread of civilization. Every few years, someone here in Whitehorse has a run-in with a coyote. I don't think anyone's actually been bitten, but if I remember right, a woman carrying a bag of groceries had one tug on her clothing with his teeth. I suspect he was more interested in eating her groceries than in eating her, but I'm not volunteering to be the guinea pig to test out my hypothesis.

Not only are coyotes not scared of us, but they can be interested in what we're doing. A few days ago, oldest son was whistling a tune in the house while the friendly neighbourhood coyote was traipsing by. The coyote stopped in front of the house, looked toward the window, cocked his head and listened for 15 seconds or so before he went on his way. I wonder what he was thinking.

Sometimes, if you howl outside at night, the coyotes will howl back to you. Don't be fooled into thinking that you've tricked them and they think you're just another coyote. They know who you are, and we know that because coyote howls responding to humans are less complex than howls responding to other coyotes. They know who you are and they are dumbing things down for you.

One other thing I've noticed about coyotes--and I promise this will be the last--is that, for the most part, they are wild dogs on a mission. When you take your family dog for a walk unleashed, she probably darts here and there, sniffing this and that. Not so with the coyote. Coyotes do not stop to smell the roses, and only pause briefly to hear the whistling. Once or twice, I've seen a pair of coyotes romping around, but most often, they are traveling in a bee-line to wherever it is they are going. They are business travelers only, and workaholics. Do you think that's the key to their success?

Oh, and the post that prompted me to finally post something on coyotes? This one, from Charlie, in which we learn at least one more thing about coyotes. You can probably believe what Charlie tells you, because he consulted coyote researchers.

Serendipitous morsel: Today's final jeopardy answer was, "The middle initial for this 1949 movie critter stands for Ethelbert." Know the question?

And what about you? Do you have a coyote story or tidbit? No reference material allowed!

Update: Don't miss all the additional coyote stories in the comments, and there's yet another one at Seasonings of the Heart.

*Yes, I know. If you have livestock, you may think doing justice to coyotes involves a 30-06.

Church History

My husband's father was in the Yukon long before we were. During the construction of the Alaska Highway, he left his wife and a couple of kids behind (Hubby wasn't born yet!) and came way up here for nine months to work construction while the road to Alaska was built. I'd always assumed he's worked in road construction, since he had a construction company with road building equipment, but hubby corrected me several years ago. His dad had done plumbing--his real trade--while he was up here. I asked hubby where he'd done plumbing, and he thought he'd plumbed the new highway camps built as the road went through.

Framed and mounted in the dining room, we have a postcard that my husband's father (Albin Stark) sent to his own mother (my husband's grandmother) while he was here. On the front is a photo of the little Anglican church in Carcross, which is a village 50 miles or so south of Whitehorse. On the back is a message to his mom.

My husband's father died when he was only 49 and my husband was only 11. I think part of the incentive for my husband taking the teaching job up here was that he would, in a small way, be following in his father's footsteps.* When the sons and I made a trip to Carcross recently, youngest son said, "It's weird to think that Grandpa Stark was once here."

I don't think Carcross has changed a whole lot since Grandpa was there, either. Here's a photo, taken by oldest son, of the same little church as it looks today. (You can click on the picture for the larger view.) It looks much the same as it did in 1943, except there is an electrical line to the church, a light over the door, and no bell in the steeple. There's also a boardwalk to the church in the old photo that isn't there on the new one. We had a family discussion about whether the windows are newer additions, and we think they are, but we can't be sure.

This church was built in 1904, but was located on the other side of the narrows and moved across the narrows on a scow several years later. It is still in use today, with services on the first and third Sundays of every month.

You can see more photos and read a little more about the village of Carcross here. It is truly one of the historical gems of the north, and it's location is breathtaking.

Oldest son has more photos from Carcross, too:

• the railroad bridge
• cabins across the narrows where St. Savior's was before its skow trip.
• riverboat boiler
• sand in the Carcross desert

Update: Here's a pdf with a walking tour of the historic Carcross buildings, including this church and the Arne Ormen cabin mentioned by Judy in the comments.

*Hubby followed his father's footsteps in another way. He died of the same sort of cancer--it's hard to be sure, since details on his father's cancer are sketchy--one week after his 53rd birthday, leaving a young son who had just turned 13.

My Yukon Garden: August 7

I'm posting this a day late, but there she is--my garden. It rained most of the day yesterday, so I had to wait until late to snap the picture, and at that point I'd lost my enthusiasm for posting. But the photo was taken yesterday, so the photo is on time. It's only the post that's late.

This is the point where you might not see much change from week to week. Most things are not growing as fast as before. Instead, they're putting all their energy into producing fruit. The potatoes and carrots look visibly larger, however, and the spinach has gone to seed. (Yes, I should get out there and pull it up, and when the garden dries out a bit, I will.)

Things are a little behind schedule, I'd say. There hasn't been all that much sun this year. Lots of rain, so that I haven't had to water since way back in June. But a garden needs sun, too.

And yesterday morning, at 6:15AM, I looked at the thermometer right outside my dining room window and it said 0C. Thankfully, the temperature only remained at 0 for a few minutes, so there was no frost damage, but it was a sober reminder that the end of the gardening season is coming soon.

We ate our first head of broccoli on Sunday night. We've eaten another head of cabbage as well. If you lived here, I'd give you a head of cabbage for free. What was I thinking when I planted so many?

More garden posting:

• Violet's flowers
• Kim's fresh garden pasta sauce
• Island Sparrow's corn, carrots, and beans
  

Previous photos of my garden:

1. June 5
2. June 12
3. June 19
4. June 26
5. July 3
6. July 10
7. July 17
   
8. July 24
9. July 31
   

Technorati Tags: gardening, Yukon gardening, Yukon, vegetable gardening

My Yukon Garden: June 26

In the interest of honesty, I'm showing it in all its weedy glory, which you can see in even more detail by clicking on the photo. The garden really needs some work with a hoe to get rid of the chickweed carpet and some volunteer spinach you see sprinkled around in the right center, and I've only just started hoeing in the bottom left corner.

Since last week, there are 40+ potato plants, with 20 or so left to come up. The far right row of peas has a grand total of 3 pea plants, up by 2 since last week, but the peas that have sprouted are growing nicely. You can see quite a bit of new growth in the greens at the bottom of the photo, too, and the cabbage/cauliflower, etc. plants at the upper right center.

Previous photos:

1. June 5
2. June 12
3. June 19

Violet has veronica and sea thrift in her garden.

Have you posted photos of your garden?

Technorati Tags: gardening, vegetable gardening, garden, Yukon gardening, northern gardening

Only in the Yukon: Still Waiting for Green

Tags: photos, Yukon, spring

Only in the Yukon: Fish Lake, Early April

Sons and I drove out to Fish Lake yesterday afternoon. The photographer does not want this photo attributed to him, but it was not snapped by oldest son or I. It is, I think, the best photo out of all the ones we took. (As always, you can click for the big view.)

Tags: Photos, Yukon, Fish Lake

Only in the Yukon: Riverside Grocery

In many ways, Whitehorse is a lot like any other town. We have our big box Walmart and Superstore and Canadian Tire, but we have our little unique places, too. Less than there used to be, since some of the old landmarks, like our quonset hardware store with it's decrepit tilting wood floors, have been torn down to make way for businesses that are more nondescript and less customer friendly.

One remaining treasure, however, is Riverside Grocery, on the corner of one of the busiest intersections, right across the street from the main public park with the beached riverboat, and the legislative building. For many years it was open 24 hours, but now it's open 20 hours per day. There are only two small rooms of products, with a few steps up to get from one room to the other, but if you want it, they've probably got it.

It's so chock full of stuff that it's hard to get a picture because you can't get far enough away from stacks of products to take one. See what I mean? Dog food, several styles of floor mops, garden gloves, rubber gloves, cheesecloth, irons, extension cords, brooms and whisk brooms, not to mention the corn nuts and candy. And if you go up the stairs to the far shelf in the photo, you can get fabric dye and a few other craft and sewing supplies.

One aisle over is the frozen dairy case. There you'll find regular frozen dairy treats, but pretend for a second you can't eat milk products. Not to worry, because they've got several sorts of soy and rice milk frozen treats. Do you eat only organic food? You'd be able to stock your cupboards at this little store, too.

If it's Halloween and you forgot to get your wee one a costume, you could buy one here at the last minute, along with a pumpkin for carving. Have you been sick? Every sort of over the counter medication you might need is here. Forgot your lunch? You can buy fresh made (or so they say!) sandwiches and brownies. Is it 1AM and you need a plunger--fast? You may pay through the nose for it, but at least they'll have it.

I stop here mostly for the slushies and ice cream cones, or maybe a newspaper from their selection of newspapers from places south.

From the photo at the top of this post, you'd think the building was the ordinary boxy sort, wouldn't you? It's not. It's almost triangle shaped, with one side only a few feet wide, as the photo shows. The shape of the building, I'm guessing, was determined long ago by the shape of the lot it occupied. So the outside of the store is almost--but not quite--as interesting as what's inside.

Update: A couple of local folks have commented with their Riverside Grocery anecdotes. Suz tells of the time last summer when her family was headed for the beach and needed pails and shovels for her boys. The stopped in Riverside for them.

The clerk could not find [them] in the store, but she checked in the back and came back with two pails, shovels attached, and at a reasonable price. And it was a small price to pay indeed for the joy of two boys who gloried that day in digging in the sand and catching minnows in their new buckets.

Chris worked at Riverside, and he

can attest to the wide range of goods. The only thing I was ever asked for while working there that I could not find for the customer was.....bulk nails. We had nails, just not in bulk.

He goes on:

Most interesting item on the shelf was electric socks.

An item I still by there exclusively is Tempura Batter. (Can't find it anywhere else.)

Also, if you think that the store is interesting, you should see the back room(s).

Hey, you know you've got something good going when your customers give you free advertising.

Tags: Whitehorse, Yukon, grocery store, convenience store

Whitehorse Photos

There was a comment asking for more pictures of the town of Whitehorse itself, so I thought I'd collect a list of some of the city of Whitehorse photos that I've already posted. (What the person requesting city photos might not have known is that almost all of the photos you find here on the blog have been taken within the city limits; we just have a lot of green space within the city.) So here you go--Whitehorse in all it's glory:

• A now defunct internet cafe.
• The log skyscraper.
• The world's largest weather vane.
• The old log church.
• The White Pass and Yukon Route depot.
• Main street at 40 below.
• The S.S. Klondike at 40 below.
• Walking bridge to a little river island.
• The start of the Yukon Quest.
• A riverboat waiting for restoration.
• An old storefront in the shipyards.
• Another shipyard building.
• My clothesline.
• Lupines on the Millenium Trail.
• A walk to town.
• The view from my deck.
• Boat and rainbow at Schwatka Lake.
• The parking lot at Walmart during the summer when it turns into an R.V. park.
• The Whitehorse Rapids fish ladder.
• The kayak park.
• From the trail by Miles Canyon.
• More from the trail by Miles Canyon.
• The view from Haeckel Hill toward Lake Laberge.
• An October snowstorm.
• A hike to Canyon City.
• A dock on Schwatka Lake.
• A Schwatka Lake cabin.

That's a start. Perhaps I'll add more later.

(You can see all of the blog posts that have been catagorized so far at Pigeonholes.)

Tags: photos, Whitehorse, Yukon, Canada

ROUS and Another Large Beast

In the movie, of course, the rodents-of-unusual-size were rat-like. Here in the Yukon, they were beaverish, and I've got the photo* to prove it. My dog, as you can see, doesn't like them very much. It could be those teeth-of-unusual size that scare her, or it could be the booming hollow metalic sound the creature makes when accidently thumped.

Speaking of giant beaver teeth, I have it on good authority that

[u]nlike modern beavers with their short smooth-surfaced cutting teeth (incisors), giant beavers had cutting teeth up to 15 cm long with prominently-ridged outer surfaces. Perhaps these strong enamel ridges would have acted as girders to support such long teeth. Although experts on ancient life (paleontologists) do not agree on the function of the cutting teeth, it seems that they could have acted as both wood cutters and gougers.

Girders and cutters and gougers? No wonder my dog's scared of them. But those of us who can read know that there's no reason to be scared as long as you're not a vegetable. Some scientists believe that even trees were probably more than those beavers could chew and they were content to eat "coarse swamp vegetation such as roots and cattails."

In Minnesota, workers excavating for a road found an almost complete giant beaver skeleton. Well, he wasn't quite giant yet, since he would have weighed only 250 lbs. or so, and as everyone knows, grownup giant beavers weigh closer to 500 lbs.

Students from Minnesota petitioned the state government to name the giant beaver, more correctly known as Castoroides ohioensis, as the state fossil. Fortunately, older and wiser heads prevailed, and the petition was refused, because, among other things, the super-sized version of the beaver was already named after the state of Ohio. The students countered, without success, that some states had the regular-sized beaver (Castor canadensis) as their state animal, and that animal, after all, was named for a whole 'nuther country.

By now, I suppose you're wondering why the giant beaver became extinct. That's a good question. Probably part of it is that they just weren't equipped for a fight and they weren't equipped for hiding, either. Scientists blame global warming, too, but we all know they tend to use that excuse for everything bad that happens. Native legends blame the Hobomuck, a giant spirit**, who hit the giant beaver with a stick and killed it, and ever since, there have been no giant beavers swimming the ponds of the earth. I'm guessing that was a wasted effort, because if there was only one, they were on their way out, anyway.

Now that we've come to the point of extinction of the giant beaver, it's probably time to move on to the other large beast promised in the title. I've mentioned him (or is it her?) here before, and he/she's been spotted in Teslin again, this time by at least nine people at once. Intriguingly, the big guy also left a big footprint (or was a bigfoot print?) and a tuft of hair behind.

As I write this, scientists are busily studying that hair to determine what sort of creature it came from. One biologist is 99.9% sure from his examination that it is hair from a bison. The DNA test results are due out today or tomorrow. I'm betting it's 100% bison.

And if it is, that'll prove nothing at all. If sasquatches exist, it seems quite clear that they don't much want to be found. Who's to say every sasquatch doesn't carry a clump of bison hair in the pocket of his ape suit so that if he's ever unfortunate enough to see nine people staring at him he can leave a bit-o-bison behind to throw them off track?

*No, we don't have snow year round in the Yukon, despite what some might think. This photo was taken last winter.

**Yes, I know you're wondering too: How, pray-tell, can something immaterial have size?

Only in the Yukon: Carcross Desert

It's known as the world's smallest desert, and it is an itty-bitty thing, all of 260 hectares or so.

But is it really a desert at all?

Only in the Yukon: Emerald Lake

The lake is that brilliant greeny blue because the lake bottom is white marl made up of decomposed shells and clay.

Only in the Yukon: Interesting Planes

Someone asked in the comments once about the kinds of interesting airplanes I might see on my airport walks. Okay, so these aren't exactly airplanes, but this'll still help answer the question.

[Update: The photographer gives us a few details in the comments.]

Only in the Yukon: From the Shipyards Again

See more here.

Only in the Yukon: The Shipyards

The Shipyards was a riverfront squatter community in Whitehorse, but the last squatter was moved out just a few years ago, and all but three of the dwellings--those designated as heritage buildings--have been removed. Five years ago (or so) there would have been about twenty shacks or cabins.

Long ago, this building would have been a store or business of some sort. You can see the storefront facing the street. This photo is taken from the back side, the side along the river bank.

Only in the Yukon: Our Own Brand of Fruitcake

Some people just seem to know how to manipulate the system to get as much attention as possible.

Sa Tan (formerly know as Brian Goozilla Salmi, and mentioned here for different antics last year) has won a victory in the Yukon Supreme Court. He gets to sue the government and have the court fees waived because he's broke. His complaint?

He claims the Yukon government offered him a job heading the communications department for the Ministry of Economic Development.

But Sa Tan admits when he applied for the job he used his old name. He claims when the government found out he'd legally changed that name to Sa Tan, they withdrew the job offer....

Sa Tan's asking the court to rule that four government employees have defamed him by denying the job offer was ever made. He says they've publicly suggested he's a liar, making it tough for him to get another government job.

CBC North gives you all the details, including a photo of Sa Tan in an article about his lawsuit from Screwtape's home turf.

One good thing: At least he dropped Goozilla as a middle name.

Only in the Yukon: The Neecheah

Only in the Yukon: Yukon Quest

And they're off! One of the dog teams starts the 1000 mile race to Fairbanks.

From the Yukon Quest information page.

At the Top of the World, in the Yukon-Alaskan Interior, an epic event takes place every year that few people from "down south" have experienced. Covering 1000 miles between Whitehorse, Yukon Territory and Fairbanks, Alaska during the depths of the Arctic winter, the Yukon Quest is the "Toughest Sled Dog Race in the World."

The Yukon Quest Trail follows historic Gold Rush and Mail Delivery routes from the turn of the 20th Century. Once a travel highway of the Northern frontier, the trail comes alive each February with the breath of hundreds of sled dogs. Teams of one human 'musher' and 14 canine athletes, travel for two weeks, racing through some of the last pristine wilderness remaining in North America.

Look at the smiles. Those dogs are just happy to be running.

Only in the Yukon: Walking Bridge over the River

.....to Bert Law Park.

Only in the Yukon: Where Have All the Pigeons Gone?

The goshawk ate them, every one....

"The goshawk is really taking each and every last pigeon, and right now in downtown Whitehorse there are five pigeons left," says Cameron Eckert, a bird biologist with the Yukon government.

"About four have been seen in the past few weeks, there were five about a month ago."