A lovely day. I took myself out for breakfast, which is always nice. The coffee is good, not the pathetic excuse for coffee I create most mornings. I just don’t have the knack. Sadly.
I felt the urge to do some math so I figured out how many rolls of toilet paper I would need before departure. Twenty-one. I knew you’d want to know.
I hiked my usual route, scared the bears off with my choice of music. I’ve never known a bear to like Andrea Bocelli’s version of The Lord’s Prayer though they may enjoy the beat of Bruno Mars Uptown Funk. Nothing says hike like The Lord’s Prayer. I jest.
When I had climbed to my highest lookout point, I turned my gaze below me and watched the tractors and graders and loaders working at the river’s edge, readying for winter I suspect. West Dawson is a community on the other side of the Yukon River. During freeze-up and break-up these residents are stranded on the other side of the river until the ice is firm enough to support an ice road. So it is during October that they stock up on supplies and groceries and I was told they don’t consider this a hardship, but rather a welcome challenge to have isolation and hunker down, a bit like a self-imposed hibernation. I’m not sure how long they must wait for the ice to be firm enough but I’m thinking it would be a reasonable length of time what with the current in the river being as strong as it is.
A couple of ravens were having their Thursday meeting on my roof this morning and I was quite certain a couple of elephants were wandering around up there. I expected one to crash through into the living room, but alas when I went out to check it was just ravens and they looked quite pleased with themselves before flying away.
The leaves have mostly gone from the trees and the bright yellow beacon of the birch have faded, I’m sad to report. I feel a slight trepidation for what is to come, weather wise. I’d best buckle up.