Your humble literary servant missed the first two Arctic Winter Games: in 1970 because I wasn’t even in Canada yet, and 1972 because I was living and working in Dawson City at the time, far too busy dealing with survival to care about the fun and games going on in Whitehorse.
I was a landed immigrant in Canada in transit to Alaska and legal to do anything and everything but vote or run for office, while here trying to make enough money to get across the border.
I did all the paperwork and took the immigration test in Dawson Creek, B.C., literally within sight of the giant MILE 0 sign designating the official start of the “world famous Alaska Highway”.
I walked into a government building across the road with a sign saying Canada Manpower & Immigration, where I found a middle-aged Dieppe survivor named Ed Drage working at his desk with his back to me as I stood at the counter waiting for him to acknowledge my presence.
Finally he did so, without turning around, speaking in a gruff and irritated voice, “I know you’re back there because I can hear you breathing, but I’m a very busy man today. Who are you? What are you? Where are you going? And Why are you standing in my office?”
I told him I was a flat broke Vietnam veteran on my way to Alaska to pan for gold until I could get enough money to build a cabin in the bush to live like a hermit and write northern adventure stories.
“Ed Drage was the first Canadian I ever met who wasn’t selling me gas, groceries or beer.”
That caused him to turn around, look at me over the top of his bifocals and growl with a sarcastic chuckle, “Who the hell do you think you are, Jack London?”
That was 52 years ago, I was 25 and Ed Drage was the first Canadian I ever met who wasn’t selling me gas, groceries or beer.
Fast forward to 2024, when a new editor named Gary Atkins advertised for somebody to write sports for What’s Up Yukon, catching me deep into my retirement boogie, with no plans to disturb the tranquility, and less desire.
The only thing I’d written the last three years was a fundraising blog for Ronald McDonald House in Vancouver after one of my grandies, a 13-year-old boy at the time, was diagnosed with leukemia and became a patient and resident at Ronnie’s place for 3.5 years of monthly chemotherapy visits.
I also helped with RMHBC fundraising in Whitehorse as a way to say thanks to those great doctors and their team members for what they did for my boy, who is now 17 and officially CF (Cancer Free), which gave me an exhilarating feeling of relief.
I certainly never gave a thought to writing sports or any other kind of stories during his therapy and cure, and considered those days gone forever.
The Inuit in the Canadian Arctic built year-round homes that were usually made of a wooden structure with sod roof below the treeline. Above the treeline these structures used whale bones for support and fur hides for coverings. They were very confined which left them just a small area to play Arctic games during the long, dark winters. Igloos were primarily used as temporary shelter on hunting trips and other travels.
North of the treeline, large whale bones were used for the superstructure and the entry was designed to be bear proof. Large rocks were used for the foundations, also for defensive reasons.
Saglek Bay, Labrador has been home to multiple migratory Inuit groups since at least 2600 BCE and has Canada’s oldest documented Inuit ruins.
The oldest known pyramid in Egypt was built around 2630 BCE at Saqqara, for the third dynasty’s King Djoser.
Which are older, inukshuks or the pyramids?
So we’ll call it a tie between ancient inukshuks and pyramids for our first history lesson and get back to the task at hand … introducing the eight contingents coming to Whitehorse in 2026 to compete in what began as a three-way local soirée in 1970, then exploded in the late ’80s and ’90s. Say hello again to:
- Alaska
- Yukon
- Northwest Territories
- Alberta North
- Nunavut
- Nunavik-Quebec
- Kalaallit Nunaat (Greenland)
- Sápmi (Reindeer People)
Gary has given me free rein as to which sports and what kind of coverage to produce, but it’s pretty obvious the 800-lb gorilla in the waiting room is the 2026 AWG on March 8-15. And I never did make it to Alaska. The Yukon Territory has always been crazy enough for me, thanks.
