Day 7: February 20, 2001

Only three little Indians remain. Three are in the woods. Or…are they??

8:00 AM--chalet. The morning coffee scene was quiet by comparison. Three people don’t make such a ruckus. Instead of the usual confusion over which coffee cup holds whose steaming coffee, today’s conversation revolved over who claims the roofrack, the winch, the bumpers and other desirables of the other three, who are assumed to have frozen stiff on the ridge. If memory serves, the following were divvied out:

• Mary: mickey’s bumper
• Ted: Mickey’s roofrack and pull-pal.
• Cindy: Mickey’s red shirt and TJ’s down slippers.

Unclaimed still were a couple of down sleeping bags and a few other odds and ends.

All this was discussed over the steaming coffee in the comfort of the cabin.

10:00 PM, February 19^th. Mickey, TJ and Michel decide it would be a good idea to start off on the adventure which led to the aforementioned events: Go camping.

Little time was spent realizing that, as coincidence may have it, tonight was one of the coldest nights so far in the trip: overnight temperatures were around –30 C. The temptation of a warmer, clear day and the Northern Lights barely peaking out through the evening fog was too much to bear. So, up on the mountain, snow-shoeing through 3-4 feet of powder in spots. The northern lights peaked out again when we broke through the fog but disappeared shortly thereafter. Nothing left to do than pack down the snow around the camp, set up the tents, heat up a cup of cocoa and bed down in the snow.

8:00 AM.—camp. Waking up in –30 C is only a few people’s idea of a good time. Coffee was skipped in the name of brevity, as packing up the backpacks was a little more time consuming then expected, fingers tend to freeze rather rapidly when tents get dismantled, sleeping bags stuffed, and backpacks packed.

Notwithstanding, waking up in the clear, crisp winter morning, with nothing but clear sky and wonderful vistas was just as serene, as spectacular as the myriad stars visible only from a remote location on a cool, clear night. Waxing too much on this, the time comes to head back to the chalet.

10:00 AM —chalet.

Cars were not dismantled and divvied out (yet). A few pretend to have been worried instead. But at this point, we are all running late for our roughly 500km trip today to Wemindji, a Cree community. Time to pack the cars, fill up on gas, and get on the way. The motel at Wemindji closes at 7pm. En route, the weather starts to change and the clear morning turns slowly to a cooler, snowy day. As we drive by, the plant life also changes to give the appearance of an even more remote, desolate terrain.

5:00 PM. About 400km and a few hour later, shortly into the primitive road to the Cree community, it is time to fill up the cars again. The last pit stop for the day if we want to make it the end of the road in time.

On the way down, the filling station was closed for the season. Time to take out the trusty jerry cans…

Wemindji is at the edge of James Bay, and as we approach the water the weather is getting close to what we expected for this trip. Not that far to go but, though not quite a blizzard, the white outs are as severe as we’ve seen them so far. The cars ahead are barely visible as

the roads became harder to maintain with the cars and wind throw the snow on the road surface. The bay winds and blowing snow slows our progress a little, but we make it into town and the little motel with just about a half hour to spare. On the way, the terrain became increasingly barren and any vegetation appeared barely able to sustain itself. Some of the locals claim that the spring and summer here (I think they sum up about 2-3 weeks) are quite beautiful—we learn that mid March is the best camping season, as the wildflowers poke out and the countryside is allegedly colourful…right before the summer heat gets almost as unbearable as the insects. But right now, we are not convinced.

Mickey