crossthatbridge

Friday, July 03, 2009

Mistaken Identity on the YRQ

Boys from German

These 2 friendly Germans, on holiday until September, shadowed me at the Carmacks resting area during the Yukon River Quest. Their stopping in Carmacks was a very comical misunderstanding.

They had been canoeing the Yukon River with their own canoe and on their own time when they got caught up in the race and were mistaken as a registered team by YRQ officials.

As they paddled closer to the mandatory Carmacks stop, several officials demanded they pull over and register in. Being German, speaking German and not familiar with Yukon rules, they promptly did as they were told. As they were emptying their canoe, not knowing why, one of the support guys asked,

"Hey, what the hell are you guys doing with a fishing pole in your canoe?"

In a broken accent, the younger of the two troubled youths responded, "To catch zee fish vith, Zir." The race official was still confused but hauled their canoe up the hill nevertheless.

Later, much later, the true identity of these 2 hapless Germans was discovered but by then they enjoyed the comforts of a fresh meal, shower and new found friends.

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Big Game in the Yukon

Black Bear Yukon

Before I got back from the Yukon the other day I finally got a shot of a Black Bear. He lumbered across Route 2 on my way back from Dawson City to Whitehorse. He or she was in no hurry to get to the other side and stopped to look back at us once or twice.

I was hoping for a Grizzly, the bigger and scarier of the two, but I'm delighted with this big fellow. Earlier I missed a shot at a moose that high-tailed it into the dense bush before I could grab my Nikon.

Other wild animals in the Yukon include caribou, elk, mountain goat and sheep, bison, wolf, mule deer, polar bear, muskox and cougar. Most of these animals, wisely, stay away from the limited number of roads in the Yukon.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The YRQ, From Respite to Rapids


After paddling 200 miles the YRQ teams are mandated to stop in the village of Carmacks for a 7 hour respite. Carmacks is named for George Carmack, the prospector who first discovered gold in the Dawson region in 1896 triggering the Klondike Gold Rush.

Teams sleep in tents in a designated 'Quiet Zones', shower, eat and then ship off again for the Five Finger Rapids. Some have been paddling in their canoes and kayaks for more than 30 hours. Their legs feel like butter, their eyes bloodshot, their skin raw and red from mosquito bites. Still, having already accomplished nearly half the trip nobody dares drop out now.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Finishing the YRQ, Not for the Faint of Heart

Yukon River Quest Midnight Sun

"We sprinted for the last 40 minutes. I sure hope we broke the record!" said the exhausted Liz and Veronica of the "Dawson before Dusk" team. Indeed they did.

The two 40-something year old's barreled over the finish line in under 49 hours winning them a total of $1100. Not a huge amount of trophy winnings but money isn't suppose to be the incentive, rather it's the bragging rights.

"It's the human spirit that propels you. The human spirit is what got us here," said Liz.

The 11th annual 2009 Canoe and Kayak River Quest Race on the Yukon River is officially over. 73 teams started the race on Wednesday and 56 finished, the last champ being solo kayaker David Peters. He struggled in at over 60 hours of paddling but completed all 460 miles, a feat few can brag about.

Others like Ingrid Wilcox from Germany and Heinz Rodinger from Austria, both in their 60's, proved that willpower and endurance have more to do with finishing than age. Both smiled big for the cameras and lifted their paddles in joy as a bullhorn whistle cracked the air. Dozens of friends and family cheered in support of their perseverance and bravery.

Some racers spend a year or more in training. They scout the terrain with GPS systems, draw up fancy maps, hit the gym for hours and stock up on high protein energy bars. But the key to success really is picking a teammate you can trust, communicate and survive hellish conditions with. A teammate strong enough to endure heavy storms, bug bites and white water rapids.

A cold, wet and windy night cramped tightly in a narrow kayak can kill the spirit in no time. That's why it helps to have a teammate who can respond quickly to not only physical setbacks but mental too.

Teams like "London Pride", a voyager canoe of 7 guys from the UK know that only too well. They had to dock for 3 hours while one of their souls recovered from hypothermia and dysentery in the middle of the night. They refused defeat though making it across the finish line in 18th place.

Sonja and the Sourtoe Cocktail

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Beauty and the Beast

Dome Road Panaroma

Courtesy of a 5-mile drive up Midnight Dome Mountain I was able to gather several sweeping vistas of the Klondike Valley and Dawson City. The weather was perfect for shooting scenery yesterday...as well as me popping a Yukon Jack with a dead toe floating on the edge of the glass. But more on that later...

Sourtoe Cocktail

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Home of Brothels and Bar Drinks with Digits

Brothel Babes

"What's done in Dawson City stays in Dawson City," say the locals. We'll see about that after tonight when Allison and me toss back a Sourtoe Coctail, a Dawson City tradition in the heart of Klondike Country.

Yes, a real once-living human toe! The macabre concoction is served at the Sourdough Saloon most famous for this drink garnished with a severed appendage.

Sourdough was the name given to early gold miners who survived the Canadian sub-Arctic temperatures during the winter. The story goes that one of the early gold miners was bootlegging booze from Yukon to Alaska during the prohibition and froze his big toe. With no doctors available, his brother amputated it and preserved it in alcohol. The toe was never reconnected to the foot but stuck in a pickle jar and forgotten about.

Over 40 years later a crafty entrepreneur by the name of Dick Stevenson bought the brothers cabin and found the toe. As a grisly joke he dipped the toe in a cocktail and named the drink 'Sourtoe'. The popularity caught on and now over 24 thousand locals and tourists can claim they tasted feet.

Unfortunately the first toe has long since been swallowed. A rowdy intoxicated fellow fell backwards off his bar stool, bumped his head and swallowed it. But replacement toes are donated by amputees and accident victims all the time so the legend carries on.

Honestly, I can't make this stuff up. It's Yukon and anything goes, including Allison, myself and Marcia kicking up our heals in front of the oldest brothel house in the Yukon. Still bearing the name of its former Madam, Bombay Peggy's is a building with secrets like none other.

Dawson City Defenders



Team Texans And the winners are.... a 6 person team by the name of The Texans with a modified canoe with pizza slices and granola bars taped to the inside. These boys really knew how to prepare a canoe. They used tubes and filters to suck in high protein liquids with electrolytes, minerals and vitamins.

Because it never really gets completely dark here I was able to hang off the cliffs videotaping canoes and kayaks weaving and bobbing around eddies and hooks on the rapids. One 8-member team by the name of the Loonies (they're from Canada) took in tons of water smashing through the torrent, so much so they had to dock for an hour and clean out their canoe.

Just a few minutes ago I shot them passing the finishing line in modest time. They were completely and totally exhausted... after all, who isn't after 460 miles?

But more on the winners with videos and photos in a minute, I'm missing out on all the fun...

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The Bard of the Yukon

Boating Lake Laberge

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

My introduction to Lake Lebarge was through this spooky poem by Canadian poet Robert Service read to me by our safety boatman Mark. Scratch that - he didn't read it, he recited it from memory along with other ballads like "The Spell of the Yukon" and "The Call of the Wild." Mark doesn't like poetry but you wouldn't know it from the way he pours through repetition, verse form and rhyme.

All of Service's stuff is filled with sensory stimuli with twisty endings so it was fitting that Mark should open with The Cremation of Sam McGee. It got us all thinking about derelict boats like 'Alice May' that comb the shores of Laberge, a lake well over 500 feet deep.

But we weren't boating for Arctic Greyling, Pike or Lake Trout we needed to catch up with the fearless Yukon River Quest people for stories. We found them on the opposite end of the lake paddling like crazy and breathing hard.

Solo Texan favorite Brad Pennington was still in the top 5 spot shadowing a Voyageur canoe of 8 strong bears from Saskatchewan. He held his position neck-and-neck with Great Britain Shaun Thrower who humorously but apty named his kayak Numbnuts.

We said hello and cheered them on but all were so consumed with maintaining position they grunted past with not so much as a crooked grin.

Coffee Canoers

Away we went to find the women and men competing for fun rather than fortunes. Our poet laureate Mark has a surprise in mind. We found a team of 9 thirsty gals huffing and puffing with a look of craving for coffee in their eyes. We pulled up alongside Team Whoa, 9 gals between the ages of 24 and 50.

Mark stretched out his arm and offered them a cup of fresh brewed Tim Horton's. They nearly fell out of their boat in gratitude. It was 7pm, only 7 hours into the race but caffeine gave them the boost they needed to carry on.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Yukon Insomnia

Yukon River Quest 2009

It was 8:30pm last night when I finally touched down in WhiteHorse, Yukon, but by the placement of the sun you would have thought it was 3 in the afternoon. Jim, my all-knowing travel guide, quickly handed me a pair of dark sunglasses which I donned until almost midnight. Not having any darkness, no stars or moon to orient day from night really throws your equilibrium off.

And try as might to sleep, cracks of sun kept creeping in through my hotel blinds and a constant stream of commotion left me looking like an insomniac this morning. No matter I had tons of work to do before the noon race today.

I interviewed teams from Venezuela, England, Austria, Maine, Alaska, Oregon and throughout Canada. The oldest competitor is Fritz, 69 years and prepping for his 7th consecutive race.

All have Powerbars, Gatorade, sunblock, Deet and extra socks stuffed inside waterproof pockets in the crevices of their canoes and kayaks. All are expecting sore backsides, blisters on both hands and no sleep for 72 hours. All are excited, anxious and anticipate sweet victory come Friday evening.

Brew with a View

Granville Bridge Before I go onto describing my first night in the Yukon let me wrap up my whirlwind tour of Vancouver.

So, I saved the best for last during my sprint around the city. It took a hot dog sales lady at Stanley Park to inform me that the reason I couldn't find any fish tacos in Vancouver was because there weren't any.

"Just because it's the West Coast doesn't mean we sell fish tacos like San Diego," she laughed. So since I wasn't likely to find my typical tilapia fare she encouraged me to discover a fisherman's wharf called Granville Island for other options.

"Chug a brew at Dockside for me," she chimed as I ran for another cab to rush me there.

By car I left the city limits by crossing over a soaring eight-lane bridge and circling around underneath huge trestles to find it. Walking all day had worked up a mighty big appetite so I had doubts I'd be on time for my last flight to the Yukon.

A big glowing sign hung from the bridge crossbeams welcoming me to the public market. There I found hundreds of permanent and temporary vendors selling an infinite variety of delicacies. I could have wandered the stalls picking at seafood all day here. Jammed with craft shops, artist galleries and studios, colorful warehouses and even a cement factory I had found market utopia.

Vancouver

Once a declining industrial site the place now boasts people-friendly venues while maintaining its faded luster. I never did find a vendor selling fish tacos but I scored nonetheless filling up on free tastings of Japanese eggplant, fresh boiled bagels and a plateful of stuffed pierogi topped with fried onions.

It's a good thing my flight was delayed by 30 minutes.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Vancouver in 3 Hours

Vancouver

At breakneck speed I just spent 3 feverish hours exploring Vancouver on foot before the last leg of my trip to the Yukon. Who says seeing a city can't be done in one day? I bagged my luggage at the airport and snagged the first cab I could find.

"Step on it, Cabbie, I've got a city to catch!" I yelled and away we flew.

The journey started at Canada Place, on the wharf, buzzing along the boardwalk with my Nikkon clicking away like crazy.

Following that I trolled through the historical streets of GasTown past a brewing company, shops filled with maple syrup delights, the world's first steam-powered clock and wrapping back at the Old Spaghetti Warehouse. A sign for 'Blood Alley Square' got me thinking twice about continuing into the seedier side of GasTown.

So, I switched gears and headed up to Pacific Center gazing at the silver-mirrored skyscrapers and Yale Town condos.

But Burrard Inlet called me back to the promenade with hundreds of yachts and cruise lines posing for pictures. Onward I marched in step with the hundreds of happy locals running, biking and strolling the shoreline. Into famous Stanley Park with horse-drawn carriages and an aquarium deep in the heart of Vancouver's evergreen oasis.

Majestic cedar, hemlock and fir trees abound, I so wish I could have stayed longer.

A 10 minute taxi cab later, I ended my journey at Granville Island... and that's when the real excitement began. More to share after my flight to Yukon...gotta run!

Waterfront Promenade

Monday, June 22, 2009

The Call of the Wild

In the morning I'm off to prospect in the vast Canadian province of Yukon. It's an early flight with 4 legs in 4 cities but by evening, I should be settling in for the night in the heart of Klondike land.

But it's not gold that I'll be chasing, rather the anticipated winner of the longest canoe and kayak race in the world at the annual Yukon River Quest. The 460-mile route retraces the historic gold rush route from Whitehorse to Dawson City and this year 79 teams from all over the world are competing.

The race kicks off this Wednesday morning racing under a midnight sun that never sets. The Yukon river can exceed two-miles in width and the current varies dramatically depending on the route. Paddlers can expect to maintain a stroke rate of nearly 75 per minute or fall behind quickly. This is not a race for novices.

Light chop, strong headwinds and even white water rapids make up this wilderness experience of a lifetime. Past winners like solo kayak competitor Brad Pennington want not only to win this year but to break the 24-hour paddling world record.

Will he do it? Check back often to find out...

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Fighting Fires in Lancaster

littlefiremen

30 minutes west of Buffalo, in the quiet town of Lancaster, NY is a fairly new firemen's museum built in large part by the volunteers of the community.

"Firemen are a special breed of persons uniquely dedicated to the people they serve," says Richard Young, President of a tool mounting company called PAC, Performance Advantage Company. PAC is located right below the museum.

Mr. Young or 'The Doctor' as he likes to be called comes from a long line of firemen. His father's father was a fireman, as seen here on the far right of the photo as was his great grandfather.

PAC sells fastening hook locks, brackets and mounts that help secure pick axes, sledgehammers, shovels and fire extinguishers to the sides of fire trucks, EMS rescue vehicles, even military transports.

Lancaster Pumper

Mr. Young's lifetime of work has helped save lives, both victims of fires and firemen themselves. Inside the museum is 200-plus years of the evolution of uniforms, apparatus, pumps, ladders, hoses and vehicles, most of which a Young descendant helped invent. Black and white photos of firemen tell stories of courage and dedication.

This is a must-see when your in the neighborhood of Lancaster, NY.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Stories of Survival and Faith

Sylvia's Place

Almost half of all homeless youth between the ages of 16-23 years old identify themselves as LGBTQ; lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or queer. Studies estimate that as many as 10,000 LGBTQ youth are homeless in New York City. It's a epidemic that keeps rising along with suicide rates and HIV transmission.

Homeless LBGTQ outcasts from all over America escape to New York City in search of acceptance and equality. In a city with endless diversity and tolerance you'd think they'd find it. But, they don't. Rather their dreams of wanting to be treated "normal" end in high drug use, sex slavery and even suicide.

They walk the city's dirty streets desperate for food, shelter, guidance and companionship. Many have physical, mental and psychological scars from harassment and abuse(s) stemming from "coming out." Their stories are sad, terrifying, brutal and absolutely real.

Tuesday was my day to interview dozens of lonesome but courageous young people wanting to be a part of a documentary about Sylvia's Place. Named after civil rights activist Sylvia Rivera, young people lined up for hours in front of the shelter, waiting to share tales of their dark world.

Sylvia's Place is the one of four emergency over-night shelters in NYC for LBGTQ youths. It provides a safe place to sleep, a good meal, a cot for the night and breakfast in the morning. The care workers also provide a listening ear, affirmation and a friendly voice of encouragement. It's located in Hell's Kitchen, part of the Metropolitan Community Church of New York, a spiritual space that ministers to all walks of the rainbow.

My producer and I set up our camera in front of 3 beautiful stained glass windows near a small altar and worship table. Our first interview was with a transgender that goes by the name London. He wore long lashes, a wavy shoulder-length wig and pretty librarian glasses.

"People say it's a choice to be gay. I didn't chose to be this way, because, honestly, in this world, if I had a choice, I would chose to be straight. Knowing that I'm going to be treated like a piece of shit, why would I choose this?"

Later, a gay man with a blue frock and bald head told of a graphic experience living in Alabama.

"I was raped. I'll never forget it. I was raped by 5 white guys in Alabama. They took turns, all 5 of them, they took turns." --- long pause and more description --- "3 months later I found out I was positive."

And the interviews continued long into the evening, with dozens more waiting their turn at shedding their inner fears. For many young people it was cathartic, as if telling about the horrors of being 'different' would hopefully change perceptions. We assured them that that was one of our goals.

Not unusual, nearly all homeless youth come from extremely devout Christian families that force them out because of their sexuality. But despite an intolerant religion that condemns them to a life on the streets they somehow maintain their faith and belief in God.

For more information on Sylvia's Place check out a book of photographs called “Shelter" by 28-year-old Lucky Michaels, also the Program Director at the shelter. His photos detail how cramped and uncomfortable the shelter is with only twenty-five rustic cots and limited floor space in one cluttered room.

The shelter does what it can but it's not nearly enough or nearly well-enough funded to cope with this growing epidemic. Still it's a spiritual refuge that offers more than most, without fear of condemnation or discrimination.