Author Archives: Jane Cawthorne

About Jane Cawthorne

Jane is a writer currently living in Victoria BC. She grew up in Toronto and also spent many years in Calgary where, among other things, she taught Women's Studies at Mount Royal College (now Mount Royal University). Her work is about women on the brink of transformation.

Big Changes/Little Notes on the road to the Yukon

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Another WiFi opportunity will not be wasted here on the way to the Yukon. We’ve crossed over two important markers on the way north:

1. We’ve left the forests of hemlock and Douglas fir and cedar and crossed over into the more open forests of black and white spruce and aspen. It’s a big change. These forests support moose and caribou and LOTS of bears.

2) we have moved from the Pacific watershed to the Arctic watershed. All water flows to the Arctic ocean now.

We really wanted to go to the Grand Canyon of the Stikine, another huge river we hardly know about. BUT, we didn’t think the little trailer could take the trip on that rough, steep road. 18 to 20 percent grades. Ouch. Wise to avoid, I think.

It’s colder. We saw an excellent glacier. Bear glacier. And there is more sunlight. We are too late in the year for midnight sun, but there’s not much darkness anymore.

We are out of fire danger for now and having our first campfire. It’s primal. Humans evolved around the fire. There’s nothing else like it. Give us something flickering, even a candle, and we are hooked.

Noticed: there are not many generators going in the campgrounds, but there are lots of solar panels. Our rig has solar panels and they work great. We always have enough power, but then again, we don’t use much in our tiny trailer.

Next update at the next wifi.

Bear Glacier near Stewart

Report from the Road

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The problem with telling all 3 of your blog followers that they can follow along on your trip to the Yukon is that there’s hardly ever any cell coverage! Here’s a report from the road.

What we’ve seen:

Forests. So beautiful. Joy bringing! We’ve moved from the forests on Vancouver Island to the true boreal forest in all of its vastness. Such joy! And it’s complicated joy interspersed with the grief of ragged clear cuts scarring the mountainscapes and one close encounter with a fire. It burned on one side of the highway while on the other side, right beside us, a water bomber loaded up from the mighty Skeena River. There were lots of fire fighting personnel there. We should all be grateful to them.

Whales. So. Many. Whales. We took the inside passage to Prince Rupert and saw so many whales we lost count. Mostly humpback. I would say they were cavorting. Out there having fun. I am so happy to see them. Their presence is a good sign for the health of our oceans. If you like the whales too, write to Mr. Carney to tell him that his new legislation that allows him to override SARA (Species at Risk Act) in order to speed through major (industrial) project approvals will likely kill whales on the west coast, especially the orca.

Mountains. They’re getting higher. We see snow up there now. We’ll be visiting a the shrinking Bear Glacier near Stewart along the way. It used to reach the highway, but not anymore. There is so much evidence of climate change here. It is as inescapable as the heat all over the world.

Totem poles. We were in a village full of totem poles. Gitanyow. Amazing. Spooky.

Quiet. It’s so quiet. As I say that I’ll make it a lie by saying I hear owls at night. I hear the flapping wings of birds. I hear birds call and others from some distance away call back. I wonder what they’re talking about? Every once in a while, I’ve heard little kids laughing so hard—a fantastic sound. And I love the sound of rain at night.

Fishing. Although so far my record is terrible, I still love it and my casting is improving.

Rivers. I had no idea how big the Skeena is. It makes me realize that Canada is so big, there are massive rivers we barely know about.

The trailer is working out great. All of my new storage tricks are great. Three cheers for command hooks!

My new saying is, “when you’re towing a trailer, you’re always close to home.”

Here are a couple of random pics. I’ll post again.

Great campgrounds

Fire! It’s Wild!

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We study the wildfire maps. Any road trip these days demands at least that much preparation. Wildfires are everywhere.

Look at today’s maps. Oddly, so far, Northern BC and the Yukon are still not too bad.

Wait a second.

The fact that I am saying the wildfires aren’t too bad right now is proof that the brainwashing propaganda machine that has tried to normalize wildfires the last few years has successfully lodged itself somewhere in my brain. I have to shake it off. The truth is, this is terrible!

About the best comment I’ve heard about the wildfires was something like, “I never had to stay indoors as a kid because of wildfire smoke.” Neither did I.

A few years ago, we drove to our friend’s place north of Kenora, Ontario from BC. Just east of Calgary, the smoke started. It was so thick in places it was like fog. You’ve heard it all before. The car was covered in ash. The smoke lasted for over 700 km. Luckily, I had a small portable air filter in the car. And luckily, if there’s one thing I always have, it’s masks.

We’ve all heard how Toronto had the worst air quality in the world this week. AND, it was outrageously hot. A bad combo. Doomy people say this is the future, but guess what? It’s the present. The future is here. Meanwhile, drill baby drill and let’s build another pipeline! We all have ringside seats to the end of the world.

I wonder: Since the beginning of the pandemic, a lot of folks have spent a lot of time gaslighting us all into believing we don’t need to do anything about air quality. More normalization of terrible things. Imagine if we had spent the past six + years actually improving indoor air quality, upgrading HVAC, adding HEPA filters. It would have paid off not only in protecting us from disease, but also in helping us deal with wildfire smoke. Now there’s a project of National Interest for Mr. Carney that I could get behind.

Instead, we have this pervasive idea now that air quality is not something we can do anything about, or that we can afford to do anything about. To do something about it would be to admit there is a problem, and we can’t do that. We’ve invested too much in our denial, at least most of us have. We’ve created the perfect conditions for maximum denial—don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t test. We can’t even mention COVID. No one has it anymore. They all have something else. (Reader, lots of people have COVID. Check the wastewater data.)

Anyway, we can do something about air quality.

Filter your air! Build yourself a Corsi-Rosenthal box. It’s easy and cheap to clean your air at home. Build a second one for your kids’ daycare or classroom. Ask the owners of the public buildings you frequent about their HVAC systems. Just ask the question. Get them to think about air quality. On a larger scale, make the link between climate change, pipelines and wildfires. Do it in casual conversation, at the office, in the grocery store, at the dinner table. Do it for people who think we can continue to extract without killing the entire planet. Canada is more than a site for resource extraction.

Talk about air quality. Talk about it now while it is an undeniable problem and there may be some motivation to change someone’s ideas.

Mosquito Mania

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It’s a bad year for mosquitoes, especially in the Yukon.

The biggest mosquitoes I’ve ever seen in my life were in Watson Lake, Yukon. We arrived there in the VW Camper sometime in 1993, our daughter still tiny, and had to set up camp without any of us getting eaten alive. The air was thick with them and we sat inside our van making a plan. We had the handy “Pack & Play” playpen which we usually popped our kiddo into to keep her safe while we got organized, but this time, we had to absolutely cover the playpen with mosquito netting. I joked they could carry her away. We’ve never moved so fast. When we were ready to bring her back inside the van, we did a rock/paper/scissors to see who would go out in the swarm.

She did not have a single bite. A proud parenting moment indeed.

Fun fact: I recently learned that caribou behaviour is very much determined by mosquitoes. Like us, they want to get away from them. That’s why they hang out on ridges where the wind might give them some relief.

Another fun fact: The best advertisement ever created in my opinion was for Off. Remember the bare arm in the clear cage swarming with mosquitoes? That poor arm. But then, the arm goes back in, this time, sprayed with off and … voila! They don’t bite! They don’t even light!

FYI: My husband likes to claim that his uncle Jim was the man with his arm in the cage, which is hilarious and I’m not saying if it’s true. But try making the claim if you need to liven up a social situation or are playing “Two Truths and a Lie.” It’s a good one. (But which is it? A truth or a lie?)

DEET is allegedly okay to use says a recent NYT article. People worry that it causes cancer or whatever, but the worst thing about it seems to be the smell. Says the expert in the article: “The whole point of smelling unpleasant is you’re not the only one that thinks that….Insects do, too….That includes other bugs like ticks, fleas and biting flies.” The risk of insect borne illness is probably worse than the risk of DEET. In a nut shell, says the article, don’t use more than recommended, don’t spray it in your eyes or mouth and definitely don’t swallow it.

DEET does smell terrible and also leaves my skin kind of sticky. Between that and the sunscreen and not knowing when my next shower might be, it all gets a bit much. So I tend to spray it on my clothes instead of directly on me, especially on my hat. But DEET is no match for Yukon mosquitoes. I know this already. So I have the suit. I will be a kind of superhero in it, repelling mosquitoes.

By the time I come home, I imagine my mosquito suit is likely to have been enhanced by duct tape. It will get increasingly ridiculous. But I believe in the mosquito suit. My suit will protect me. I’ll repeat it like a mantra.

Behold me in my glory!

Me Mosquito Free

Grim Reader: On Ecological Grief

The return of the Grim Reader

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It’s been a while since I posted in the Grim Reader, which is my effort to read books about the important topics and report on them. I’ve read a few good Grim books recently, and here’s some quick info about some I recommend, plus one book at the end of the list that is pure fun and not grim at all.

My Grandmother’s Hands by Resmaa Menakem: This book is about healing from racialized trauma, but incidentally it is about healing all trauma. Currently, I am working on healing from my own medical trauma (and incidentally healing from all of my trauma). Healing is important work, possibly the work of the remainder of my life. Although the book is grim sometimes, it is predominantly hopeful and helpful. Menakem divides the book into three different parts—one focussed on Black people, one on White people, and one on police, and the latter really surprised me. It’s a very readable format, but even so, it took me about a month to get through it and I know I have to go back to it again. Why you should read it: This is a book that creates empathy.

Knife, by Salmon Rushdie: Rushdie details the Knife attack that almost killed him and the course of his healing. Throughout are his thoughts about the trauma. Honestly, I probably would not have read this book if it were not a book club book, but I’m glad I did. On the “healing from trauma” front, it was helpful to see someone else’s process and progress. There are similarities to my own experiences for sure, particularly when he describes his time in the hospital. His ideas about why we must continue to create art in these fascistic times are important. Why should you read it? Because we need to remember that there are real lives behind all the headlines and it is a good example of someone creating art in these times.

What If We Get It Right by Alayna Elizabeth Johnson: Oh, it’s a door stopper, but don’t let the length of this book deter you. Through a series of interviews on a wide variety of mostly climate related topics, Johnson manages to talk about the biggest challenges of our time while predominantly focussing on solutions. She asks all of her interviewees what the future might look like if we get it right. It is very readable. So it is not actually predominantly grim, unless you think even being reminded of climate catastrophe is grim. It reminds me of another book I talked about in the Grim Reader series, I Want A Better Catastrophe. If you liked that, you’ll like this. Currently, I am busy recommending it to politicians who are backing away from climate commitments. One warning though—some of the more specific and practical discussions are almost moot now because of that darn president who shall not be named. That’s the problem with writing a book on the cusp of an administration change. Johnson gives addenda when necessary, mostly very grim, explaining how the hopeful thing they were discussing in the previous interview is now gone because of cuts by the current administration. In this way, the book is unintentionally an affirmation of the importance of politics and of voting. Why should you read it? There is a lot of doom out there and it’s important to remember how many people are working on solutions so you can counter it.

One Day, Everyone Will Always Have Been Against This by Omar El Akkad: Well, it’s about as grim as can be. Palestine. Genocide. What I admire about this book the most, besides the absolutely moral clarity of the writer, is the manner in which he addresses the genocide. He describes just enough, and no more. The reader knows. The temptation is always to look away from atrocities, but the descriptions of the genocide are mostly brief and are used to anchor the further discussion, which offers a searing indictment of Western imperialism, colonialism and Zionism. Why should you read it? Because media coverage is so biased and it is a look into how history will view these times, and you want to be on the right side of history.

Empire of Pain by Patrick Radden Keefe: The story of the Sackler family will haunt you. Here in Victoria, there is an area where the opiate crises is in your face and unavoidable. Every city and town has these places now. In BC, there were 116 drug related deaths (approximately 4 per day) in April 2026. If this many deaths were attributed to, I don’t know, ANYTHING else, we would be doing something about it. The book traces responsibility for the opiate crisis, the countless deaths, and the ruined lives to the Sackler family. My God, you will hate these people well before the end. Despicable. You will also shake your head in dismay in the systems that enabled them to make a fortune from such human suffering. Full disclosure: I listened to this book on a very long road trip a while back. If I’d been reading it, I probably would have thrown it across the room because I hated these people so much. I’m glad I finished it. The title came up in one of my book clubs and as soon as it was mentioned, I recalled it so vividly. It will stay with you. Haunting. Infuriating. Why should you read it? To once and for all disabuse yourself of the notion that addiction is just an individual’s problem and responsibility.

And if you are still with me, here’s a really fun read I can recommend to you—nothing grim about it. The Infinite Sadness of Small Appliances by Glenn Dixon. Delightful in every way. The main character is a sentient Roomba. Need I say more? It is utterly charming. But it is also about the big ideas like AI and surveillance and freedom. If I were still teaching English, this book would be part of my plan and I would love to discuss it with a bunch of high-schoolers. There’s a lot in here.

Go forth and read!