Yukon Chatter Bug

It’s dark, and I click my ski boots in one after the other. I double and triple check to make sure I have my cell phone, my spare batteries, and of course, extra clothing. It’s about -20°C. I can see my breath in the ray of light cast by my headlamp. Just as I head out, the lights on the trail go out.

I’ve been on this trail a couple of times before but never in the dark by myself. Landmarks, so familiar before, are completely engulfed in darkness. So, at the first intersection, I pull the map out of my sleeve to make sure I’m where I should be. Confident, I fold it, slip it back in, and tighten the Velcro around my gloves.

At one point, I stop in my tracks and just listen. No more crunching snow. All I can hear is my breath and the nylon on my jacket rub with the slightest movement. The sky is filled with stars and slight cloud cover. I smile to myself and feel so, so happy to live here.

A short while later I can see a dancing glow in the distance, and laughter fills the air. I made it! A few people are sitting around a healthy fire. I plant my skis and poles in the snow and make my way into the hut where a table of wines, cheeses, and breads greets me. Ahhhhh, to live in the Yukon. The perfect place to celebrate a friend’s birthday.