Two Against the North

I’m reading northern stories. Yesterday it was Farley Mowat’s, “Two Against the North.” There are lessons in “Two Against the North,” a whole survival course and more.

Two boys on a hunting trip lose their way in the Barrenlands of Northern Manitoba just as the Arctic winter is beginning. It’s a rip-roaring adventure tale, and as you can see by the “Scholastic Canada” label on the cover, one often taught in schools. It’s a particularly good story for reluctant young readers and is hard to put down even for a grown up.

Cover of Farley Mowat’s Two Against The North.

Here’s hoping Rob and I aren’t “two against the north” on OUR journey, and if it ever feels like this, I’ll try to remember the harrowing tale of Awasin and Jamie. I’m glad we won’t be there in the winter!

The moral of the story comes when Jamie realizes that all of their troubles started when they tried to fight against the winter and the Barrenlands. Awasin says to Jamie, “If you fight against the spirits of the north you will always lose. Obey their laws and they’ll look after you.”

An important lesson.

We settler folks have been fighting against the land throughout our short history on it. Extraction, overuse, neglect—it’s a sad story that has left all of us poorer and now, in grave danger.

I was reading yesterday in “What If We Get It Right,” that “Indigenous people (less than 5% of the world’s population) manage or have rights to around 25% of the world’s land area, which is home to about 80% of the Earth’s remaining biodiversity.” (P. 371) That is impressive and certainly no accident. Indigenous people know how to care for the land and have been doing so for millenia. We (settlers) have managed to wreck it in just a few centuries.

Yet, we settlers still haven’t grasped that Indigenous people have a track record that would make them our best teachers.

Beyond our history of genocide, we continue to try to ignore and bypass them to create more and more extractive enterprises. PM Mark Carney is currently being accused of a lack of consultation with Indigenous leaders as he moves forward with his so-called “major projects.” All that consulting might slow him down, and we all know, it’s full steam ahead. “Progress” at all costs. The success and strength of Canada demands it. It’s our patriotic duty…blah blah blah.

Is it? Wouldn’t it be better to slow down, do it right, maybe even do something else?

It’s sheer hubris to ignore Indigenous leadership and knowledge and that hubris comes from racism.

Maybe Mr. Carney should read “Two Against the North.”

What if all tourism is disaster tourism

I wrote a post last week about how the Westminster Hotel in Dawson City burned down and that got me thinking about tourism and disaster tourism. Last night I had an odd thought: what if all tourism now is disaster tourism?

The world is changing so fast. We are in the grips of a climate catastrophe. Maybe everywhere we go and everything we want to see is a “see it now before it’s gone,” situation or a “see what happened to it,” situation. I don’t know. But I’m thinking about it. Maybe the very idea of disaster tourism has to be expanded to include how we add to the disaster through our carbon-propelled travel.

And yes, I can think about this even while planning a driving trip to the Yukon. Maybe BECAUSE I’m planning a driving trip to the Yukon I should be thinking about it more than ever.

You may have noticed that I edit pretty freely on blog posts even after I’ve published. Many people would call that cheating. I say, “It’s my blog and I can do whatever I want with it.” I clean up typos and rearrange ideas for clarity after the fact. Usually I would just add new thoughts to the post that it is related to. Just sneak them in there. Blog posts are like first drafts for me. They are thinking out loud. I forget anyone is reading, and when someone mentions a post to me I am often shocked.

But it works for me. So thanks for listening in on my thoughts. You might be watching me write a book of essays.

Maybe.

Sad news from Dawson City, Yukon and Disaster Tourism

The Pit, the old Westminster Hotel in Dawson City, Yukon, has burned to the ground.

Built in 1898, it was sometimes thought of as the “living room” of Dawson City. I’ll never see it. Sad.

It had already been closed because of a terrible flood, but hopes were high that it would reopen this summer. What is a flicker of sadness for me is a deep gash in the lives of those in Dawson City. I’m going to make a bold, even over-the-top comparison. It is like when Notre Dame burned down. For Parisians with a lived connection to the Cathedral, it was soul crushing. For tourists, it was sad, but not the same. The Westminster Hotel was that important to Dawson City.

The loss of the Westminster Hotel has me thinking about how everything seems to be changing so fast and what some people call disaster tourism, a desire to see something before it’s gone. Get to Taiwan while it is still Taiwan. Go north and see the polar bears before they go extinct. I think of the tiny town of Lytton, BC, still reeling and not rebuilt from the wildfire that went through it in 2021. A year later, we were travelling through the area and there were signs up asking tourists not to go there. Disaster tourists. No one wants them. They do not help. And there they are, looking for a sandwich. No one has the time or energy to give them a sandwich. They need all the sandwiches they have for themselves.

There’s so much that is disappearing. Some of it happens because of “natural” disaster, and some of it happens because of shockingly bad policy and politics. According to a recent story, “Climate Policy on the Ropes” by Chris Hatch (Sunday May 17, 2026 in the National Observer), the pod of Southern Resident Killer Whales known as J-Pod that live near me is about to be even more endangered. Changes being brought in by Mark Carney’s Liberal government that eviscerate environmental approval processes and therefore environmental protections are coming so that Carney’s major projects (many of which are pipeline and fossil fuel related) will get passed. Hatch writes,

“Tim Gray, a veteran of the Harper government’s assaults, and now executive director of Environmental Defence, says the [new] proposed process would ‘sacrifice the rule of law and our most sensitive species and ecosystems in order to build pipelines and other projects. If approved, this proposal will take Canada back to a more dangerous, toxic and destructive time and leave Canadians facing impacts that could last for generations.’ Several government sources told [journalist] Althea Raj that the proposal is specifically designed to facilitate projects (like a West Coast pipeline or ports) that would impact the critically endangered southern resident orcas. There are only 74 whales left (perhaps as few as 10 or 12 reproductive females) and they’re the ones that make tragic news every few years when mothers carry their dead babies for days and even weeks in painful displays of mammalian grief.”

And that’s just the Orcas.

According to the World Wildlife Fund, the rate of species extinction is estimated at 200 to 2,000 extinctions per year, which is about 1000 to 10,000 times greater than the natural extinction rate. It’s a big differential, for sure, until you remember that we are still guessing how many species are actually on earth. Every moment we fail to address climate change or demand our governments address climate changemakes us all culpable.

Beyond different plants and animals, land itself is changing. Glaciers are melting. So is permafrost. Deserts are getting larger. Shorelines are expected to continue to change dramatically with sea level rise.

So, if, for some strange reason, you have a wild desire to go see Florida, you’d better go soon. The Everglades are already just a shadow of what they once were. So is the Amazon rainforest. Even the Colorado River is drying up.

[Side note: There is a magnificent essay about the Everglades in Joy Williams’s book, “Ill Nature.” The whole book is great, but the Everglades essay has never left my soul.]

Go before it’s too late. This is the essence of disaster tourism.

I’ve been to the Everglades. It bore no resemblance to what I saw as a child on the TV show “Gentle Ben.” I hiked the Blue Mountains in Australia the season prior to giant wildfires that raged through them and changed them forever. It was not disaster tourism but I was also so grateful I got to see this beautiful place before the worst happened. Not to mention a colony of little penguins along the southern shore of Australia.

What really troubles me about it all is all the effort, energy, money, and even C02 that goes into tourist trips to see the “almost gone” that could go to saving what is. We should put at least as much effort into mitigating the disaster as we do to witnessing it. I am coming to grips with the ways in which I am culpable through my travel.

How much of my desire to go to the Yukon this summer comes from wanting to see this magnificent place as it is now, before it changes (even more) forever? Or is it more simply something I want to experience before I die? How much damage will my trip cause. What is the impulse? Do I want to see a herd of caribou? You’re darn right I do. Muskox? I’d love to see Muskox. We might see Muskox if we were to take a short flight-seeing tour to Herschel Island. Herschel Island is currently being consumed by rising sea levels. The flight seems too much like part of the problem to do it.

But there’s more to my desire to go to the Yukon than ticking off the Muskox box. Have you ever seen the light in Kluane National Park? One of the parts of the trip I am looking forward to the most is a trip through the Mackenzie Delta. I just want to feel what that is like. I want to be in that place. It’s not something I can explain. At least not yet. I anticipate joy in this trip. Lots of joy.

But there will be no Westminster Hotel. My condolences to the people of Dawson City.

Muskox

Muskox

Yukon Trip

I’m going to the Yukon! Or is it supposed to be I’m going to Yukon! With or without the definite article? This is one of those things I’ll find out when I’m there.

It’s a YOLO trip for sure, and I have already been (twice) but I haven’t stayed. These were both “passing through” visits. This time, (the) Yukon is the destination. I’ve always wanted to stay in Kluane National Park and I finally get to.

I won’t be alone. I’m travelling with the best camper ever—Rob. There are several segments to the trip and some of these have special guests. All in all I expect it to take 7 to 8 weeks and I’ve decided to blog it.

We’re not leaving until mid-summer, but I might blog a little about the preparations too. Food Dehydradation? Sure. Why not. Space saving trailer tips? Maybe! Fantastic sights? Definitely. Drinking the Sour Toe Cocktail? Under no circumstances will I drink that. Not a chance.

So, there’s going to be a lot of Yukon content for a while. Get ready!

Wind sweeps clouds of dust over Kluane Lake from the A’ay Chu (Slims River Valley), dried since 2016 glacial meltwater diversion, seen from Tachal Dahl (Sheep Mountain) Ridge, St. Elias Mountains, Yukon, Canada. Hike Sheep Creek trail (10-15 km with 500-1200 m gain or 1700-4000 ft) for spectacular views of the Slims River Valley and surrounding St. Elias Mountains, plus Kluane Lake seen from Soldier’s Summit on Tachal Dahl (Sheep Mountain) Ridge. In a startling case of climate change, over 4 days in spring 2016, the Slims River suddenly disappeared, leaving windswept mud flats creating clouds of dust in the formerly clear air. With its main water supply diminished to a trickle, Kluane Lake may be isolated within a few years, shrinking below its outflow into the Kluane River (which flows into the Donjek River, White River, Yukon River, and eventually the Bering Sea). Kluane Lake chemistry and fish populations are rapidly changing. For the last 300 years, abundant meltwater from the Kaskawulsh Glacier has been channeled by ice dam to drain via the 150-meter wide Slims River, north into Kluane Lake. Between 1956 and 2007, the Kaskawulsh glacier retreated by 655m, which most scientists attribute to anthropogenic climate change. Meltwater flooding from accelerating retreat in 2016 carved a new channel through a large ice field, diverting most flows to the Kaskawulsh River, a tributary of the Alsek, which flows into the Gulf of Alaska. Read more at: https://projects.thestar.com/climate-change-canada/yukon/. This image was stitched from multiple overlapping photos captured in June 2019 by Tom Dempsey / PhotoSeek.com.

Covid Safety is a Social Justice Issue

I keep looking for a simple and concise article I can hand to someone who just doesn’t understand how social justice and SARS-CoV-2 (Covid) are related. I can’t find one I really like, so I’m writing one.

Here’s a true story. I belong to a Social Justice book club. All of the books we read are about social justice. I am the only member who masks. It’s frustrating. These are good people who really care about others. We study. We read together. We try our best to translate our reading into action that will lead to greater social justice. But I am the only one who masks. The space we share has a window that opens. I enter in my mask, open the window and hope for the best while we discuss our latest book. (This month’s book is “One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This” by Omar El Akkad.)

My book club knows that I am a person who is chronically ill. I identify as disabled. I have the dreaded “pre-existing conditions.” Because Covid is airborne, most public events are difficult for me. I have to mask indoors, and often outdoors too if I’m in a crowd. As a result, a lot of activities are less accessible to me. I have to weigh the risk in a way others don’t. In part, I have to do this because no one else masks. Theye are busy breathing their germs into the air we share.

Despite reports to the contrary, the pandemic is not over. There is no need to use the past tense about it. People still get Covid, but since hardly anyone tests, it’s hard to know how often. I think we all know this; we just don’t want to know it. Wastewater gives us some indications of the prevalence of Covid. I know at least twice a year, others are talking about this terrible “thing” that’s going around that they just can’t shake. Most people I know have had covid three times now. Some have had it six times.

Covid is more than a cold:

Covid is often referred to as a neuro-vascular disease that presents as a respiratory infection. Once the cold and flu symptoms go away, it can keep working on you, leaving damage in every organ, particularly your brain and heart. Covid has been linked to an increased risk of cancer and to cancer recurrence. It has been linked to the reactivation of other viruses like EBV and Shingles. The list goes on and on. Covid causes immune system damage, and the more often you get it, the worse your immune system becomes. You become susceptible to other viruses and when you get them, they often are more severe. And the more often you get Covid, the more likely you are to get Long Covid, that is, a strange cluster of symptoms that can leave a person bedbound and medicine is still struggling to understand. It is estimated that worldwide, 400 million people have experienced Long Covid, about 6-7% of adults. There are still a lot of variables and plenty of people think the incidence of Long Covid is undercounted. This is why Covid has been called a mass-disabling event. At this point, literally thousands of peer reviewed studies show the harms of covid.

It seems like something we should care about.

Prevention:

I understand what it is like to be sick. I’d rather not get sick again, or add to my existing issues. And until we have a sterilizing vaccine, there is nothing that is a 100% sure thing to prevent Covid. Some people suggest that is about 5 years away, but with the gutting of science and research in the US, I’m skeptical. (But officially, I remain hopeful.) Today’s vaccines will help keep you out of the hospital and probably keep you from dying, something that happened to many of Covid’s early victims. Hand-washing is always a good idea, but because Covid is airborne, hand-washing won’t protect you from Covid. The most effective thing to do is to mask with an N95 respirator or better, not a baggy blue medical mask that lets air in. It would also be a grand idea to clean indoor air. How? HEPA grade air filters. There are many. Public buildings could have their HVAC upgraded. There’s also some interesting work being done with Far UV, but this remains a more controversial solution. Even if we could just filter indoor air in schools, hospitals, and health care settings, we would go a long way to making the world a lot less risky.

Why is Covid a Social Justice Issue:

First of all, health is a social issue. That’s why we talk about the social determinants of health. For example, a good indicator of life expectancy is how much money you have. We often discuss health like it’s only a personal responsibility. What did they eat, not what can they afford to eat. You get the picture.

Nevertheless, we live in a “personal responsibility” culture even though we are affected by everything everyone else does and the environment itself. If the environment is polluted, it’s awfully hard to stay well. Outdoor air quality is not something an individual can control. Just think about how smokey the air gets during fire season.

Accessibility is also a social responsibility. We can’t do it alone. For example, we, as a society, build wheelchair ramps because a wheelchair user can’t get very far in a world of stairs and curbs and we can hardly expect individuals who need access to fix the roads and sidewalks or build ramps and elevators in public places. Some things are better accomplished together. There are plenty of places that don’t bother to create accessible streets and buildings, but thankfully, we still do that. Sticking with the wheelchair example, the cost of wheelchairs is wild. And do you know what a person has to go through to get a wheelchair fixed? But I digress. My point is that the cost of chronic illness and disability is largely borne by the ill person, even in a place like Canada which has universal health care. Illness is incredibly expensive.

A person interested in social justice would be concerned about a disabling disease running rampant that will increase inequality throughout society.

People can’t work when they’re ill. Jobs like nursing, teaching, other healthcare work, and many other service jobs are women dominated. These jobs also have many racialized workers. Labour conditions aren’t great, so there are few, if any, paid sick days or short or long term sick leave. We don’t yet live in a world with Universal Basic Income, so who can afford to get sick? Certainly not your average minimum wage worker.

So, to recap, illness is expensive. Sick people are expensive. And we’re living in a time with eugenic and fascist leanings. That means it appears we sick people are a burden and a lot of people aren’t afraid to say so. How many times did you hear the death of a person with Covid justified by the “pre-existing condition” narrative. “But they had diabetes, high blood pressure, they were overweight, had diverticulitis” or any other “itis.” Or old age. Sick people and old people are expensive. And babies. Babies are expensive. Capitalism only really likes people who are “productive.” Babies are unproductive. Capitalism values their future productivity, but wants to get to it with as little cost as possible. If you are unproductive within caitalism, some people think you’re just a drain on society. It seems pretty clear that if you want to fight fascism, you have to fight for the people affected by it most; sick people, old people, babies, and other marginalized folks.

There’s more. Insurance hates paying for sick people. They like collecting premiums, but aren’t as excited about the paying out part of their job. It digs into profits. With a disease as new as Long Covid, getting “proof” that one is ill remains quite difficult. Is Long Covid real? Why yes, it is. But not everyone agrees. Especially those with a financial incentive to continue to question the emerging science. And sick people don’t have the energy to get the appointments, the notes, the this and the that to prove what has happened to them is real, let alone prove their disease is real.

Further, too many people, including those within most of our governments, are pretending Covid isn’t a thing anymore. Why? Because it’s expensive! Remember CERB? That might be the closest we ever get to UBI. It was glorious. People who got sick could stay home. People didn’t have to fear losing their homes because of the pandemic. And then it ended. Why? Because it was expensive! We were told to “go back to normal.” Public health abandoned its responsibilities. It abandoned us. And this is not some faceless agency. These are people. People working in public health, with a responsibility to tell the truth about the risks we face to our health and what we can do about them. They abandoned us. They abandoned their responsibilities. Worse than that, they obfuscated to the point of lying. Covid is not harmless. Everything is not OK. Indeed, while there is a case to be made that the emergency is over, (especially with the vaccines largely minimizing the worst outcomes) but Covid was never over.

Meanwhile, has anybody counted up the cost of lost work days, lost homes, lost families, lost lives and livelihoods? Someone has done the math. Covid may be responsible for the loss of 1% of global GDP.

It’s important not to fall in with the minimizers. It’s important not to fall in with the fascists. It’s important not to fall in with the eugenicists. They have an agenda, and it’s not a social justice agenda. It’s a corporate and capitalist agenda in which we are only valued as cogs in the machinery of creating profit for billionaires.

Government has a responsibility to care for us, and, I would add, it has the money to do so. After watching literally billions of dollars go to a useless war and the build up of weapons for more war, I will never again accept the excuse that, when it comes to caring for people, it costs too much. There is money. There is simply no political will.

Caring for people is a social justice issue. Let’s care for people enough to help them prevent Covid. Let’s care for the many people who already have Long Covid. Let’s understand the intersections between Covid, other disabilities, gender, race, and class. If you care about marginalized people, about everyone, caring about Covid is part of that. You have to do what you can to minimize the spread of the disease. Do it for yourself. Do it for others.

If you’re out there thinking you’re a social justice warrior and you’re not doing all you can to prevent Covid and make this world a safer place for everyone, maybe you could do better. At least think about it.

The Importance of Feminist Writing and Feminist Presses

My colleague and sister-in-spirit, Elaine Morin, just pointed out a great interview about Inanna Press in Booknet Canada that highlights one of our co-edited anthologies, Writing Menopause. It’s a delightful endorsement of our work from the Assistant Publisher, Evelyn Elgie. (I almost said “new” assistant editor, but she’s been there almost a year now.)

She says:

“So, the community of older women that I see at Inanna is really, really powerful of women who are writing on all sorts of different aspects of society. The different things that are important to older women that we often don’t talk about that can maybe be taboo. For instance, we have a book called “Writing Menopause,” which is an anthology. I have taken it to every market that I’ve done, every sort of tabling opportunity since I’ve been at Inanna. I took it to the National Women’s Studies Association Conference last weekend in Puerto Rico. And what I consistently see is that it gets a ton of attention. There’s not a lot of work on women’s experience of menopause.“

Sure, it should come as no surprise that the Assistant Publisher of our own press might endorse our book. But what really pleases me is that she pulled it out of the way back catalogue to highlight it and that says she takes it with her to every conference. She highlights the importance of it and its continued relevance to readers. It remains the only book of it’s kind. Not bad for a book that is almost a decade old in a world where books can take years to get published and forgotten in weeks. I’m proud to have produced something that lasted. I think I can speak for Elaine on that point too. And I’m still so proud of all of our contributors who wrote so fearlessly.

If you’re curious about feminist publishing or already care about it, I encourage you to listen to or read the whole podcast. It’s worth your time.