After far too long down south (Alberta) I have re-emerged in the north, about as far as you can get on land.
Canadian Forces Station Alert has been here since 1958, and it’s a going concern. 100 military personnel, government lackeys (like me), and civilian contractors are taking advantage of the 24-hour daylight to get maintenance done and get prepped for the severe winter conditions that will arrive sometime in September or October. I release weather balloons twice a day, as I did in Eureka.
Polar bears frequently roam around here, although I have not seen any. There are regular patrols to keep an eye out for them, and cautions around travelling solo or on foot are put in place if they are within 6km of the station. My head is on a swivel as I ride my ATV down to the balloon launching site in the early morning.
Getting here isn’t easy. I had to fly from Alberta to Ontario (screw you WestJet and your labour dispute, thank you Air Canada for getting me on a last-minute flight), then get on a Hercules C-130 aircraft and fly to Iqaluit (refuelling stop and bathroom break), then to Pituffik Space Base (the Americans run this facility in Greenland), stay overnight, then off to Alert. Hercules aircraft are designed to transport cargo, not people, so getting comfortable for the hours and hours spent on board is an art I have not yet learned. Ear defenders are a must, so conversation is impossible. One can stare into the middle distance or nap. The boxed lunches they provided was surprisingly well-stocked with things I will eat. (Very suspicious of sandwiches which are usually laced with mayo or mustard…grosssssss).
It’s 24-hour daylight here although very foggy these days. I’ll post photos of the landscape as I have a chance to explore. 24-hour darkness will descend in October, just as I am heading home, so my timing here is good. I was originally scheduled to head up in the deepest darkness last January, but a fucking breast cancer diagnosis derailed my plans for a few months. It was caught early so I am all good.
GET SCREENED REGULARLY, FOLKS!
I’ve had a few rides in a C-130, and yes, they are not particularly comfortable. One of the USAF guys I used to work with referred to the Herc as a “young man’s aircraft.”
Also happy to hear that you are “all good.” One of my relatives just went through something similar, involving surgery. The funny thing was that her regular screening had been changed to a 2-year interval, but she didn’t realize that and made her own appointment at the 1-year mark. The situation might’ve been entirely different and far more serious had an extra year elapsed between screenings.
First, I’m glad to hear you’re all good. Second, I really enjoy these posts. I’ve only been as far north as Fort McMurray. I am fascinated by the scale of the northern half of our country. Post more photos, please!
I’d love to see polar bears in the wild. I would hate to see polar bears in the wild while riding an ATV.
I love the ATV but when it gets darker there’s no way I’ll not be taking the Dodge Ram.
Very excited to see a polar bear but I am fine if I observe it from the second-floor activity room.
Thank you for posting this. I think that I can speak for just about everyone here when I say that we look forward to reading every one of your posts.
I am happy for you that they caught the breast cancer early and hope that they take care of it with no long term issues.
In terms of timing I was fortunate. Stage 2. Surgery (minor), then radiation and then a regimen of meds for a few years. Lots of waiting between appointments with specialists, but that’s normal and I was assured it won’t affect the long-term outcome.
So a gigantic middle finger to the Big C and off I go to live my life amongst the bears and the wolves.
I’ve had a few rides in a C-130, and yes, they are not particularly comfortable. One of the USAF guys I used to work with referred to the Herc as a “young man’s aircraft.”
Also happy to hear that you are “all good.” One of my relatives just went through something similar, involving surgery. The funny thing was that her regular screening had been changed to a 2-year interval, but she didn’t realize that and made her own appointment at the 1-year mark. The situation might’ve been entirely different and far more serious had an extra year elapsed between screenings.
I had to work hard to act all cool on the plane while hauling heavy luggage on and off, but this old hag was admittedly looking for a porter!
My doctor casually mentioned getting a mammogram before I head north last winter, even though I wasn’t due until the spring. So fine, I go, and I learned fast that when the clinics are making your follow-up appointments for you, then something is up. Aw, crap. I was upset I couldn’t travel north, but perhaps finding out the bad news 4 months later would have meant more invasive treatment? So I had lots of time to do some home remodelling and painting, and I fostered a couple of kitties, so that was the silver lining on the fucking dark cancer cloud.
For those who have never looked Alert is 4,358 km (over 2700 miles) north of Toronto.
That’s about as far north as Vancouver is going West from Toronto.
I have great respect for anyone who goes that far just to get away from the Maple Leafs.
We used to fly over Alert regularly between Dubai and the North American destinations. Looked down many a time wondering who the heck is down there and what could they be bloody doing?
As others have stated, congrats on beating cancer and I look forward to your posts.
Like Just Jack, you should seriously consider pulling together memoirs and write a book. You have a wonderful and engaging writing style. Reminds me of Bill Bryson.
