A fun example of the cultural mixing here was the jig contest. Now, I’ve always thought of the jig, danced to a fast fiddle, as an Anglo-Saxon tradition: Irish, Scottish, French, but here it’s a local tradition, with most of the dancers of First Nations descent, with plenty of mixed and white faces giving it a go. Oh, by the way, the really really excellent fiddler seemed to be from the orient. Go figure.
t becomes almost difficult to sleep as we near the Yukon, the days are so long, the nights so short. We close all the blinds in Turtle, and it still is late before we can sleep. Light usually wakes me at 3:30am, but I’m a good sleeper, and Claire’s warmth makes it easy to wait for full sun to warm us through the windshield sometime around 6:30. At that 3:30 awakening, I open the blinds and curtain between our living area and the cab to welcome the sun. A warm house makes it easier to get out of bed at a reasonable hour.
This was taken after 10pm through the window of Turtle at a boondock on the Alaska Highway, or as the Canadians have signed it, the Great Northern. I prefer Great Northern; more romantic than the Alaska Highway.
Long days of slantlong light, and the landscape rolling off to infinity, makes for a magical sense of otherness, of strange timelessness. We love the road, and this one is special.
We boondocked with this van in the Bellingham Wal*Mart. It was festooned with sculptures of eagles. An older couple (like 80’s) were not shy about being noticed! Car after car drove up, rolled down their windows, and took a photo with cameras or phones. One woman left her car running in the middle of the busy lane and made a slow walk-around video.