Laura on July 11th, 2011
Why is today mundane? Because I am no longer in the Yukon. No more peace and quiet, midnight sun or trails leading from backyards. Summer Live festivities over the weekend were a great distraction from my malaise about being back in the city, but this morning the rude awakening of routine left me cold. On my flight home I sat beside a contractor for a gold mine north of Watson Lake. He was studying blue prints, hired to figure out the most efficient format for their base camp. As he talked about what it is like to clear the brush from a makeshift runway in order for his plane to land I thought of my dad’s stories about surveying in the Dempster bush during the 1970s. And my tree-planting cousins, and the half-acre gardens we grew on our hobby farm in Seeley’s Bay.
Yesterday I came very close to running into a crowd of people walking against traffic on the sea wall. Hoping to catch the end of Veda Hille’s set, my bike basket was loaded with picnic treats and cold Yukon brew. For a moment I thought I was meandering on a trail, listening to birds. In reality I rolled down the bike path curb (oh that fucking curb) and wrangled my red beauty like a half-broke horse. I attribute my equestrian childhood with Duchess, the green meanie who bolted any chance she could, to my ability to tame my bucking bike. Good save, but a wake-up call that I am not up north anymore.