Yesterday was clear and sunny with a gorgeous blue sky. The five day from Environment Canada says we should have the same for a few days. The snow is less crunchy underfoot and I must be getting climatized since I only wore one set of gloves yesterday, no balaclava and no face shield. It was noon and the sun was high off the horizon. It only climbs here about 30 degrees, makes about a 45 sweep across the sky and then it goes down.
The temperature was supposed to climb to 23 (for those new people following along the minus here is still understood until about July). The weather channel has still not returned to the cable lineup and my local internet wireless connection has failed to re-establish so I have become more of an observer as of late.
I had a tour of the area yesterday. I got called in to the health centre (I had to return the truck there anyways). I finished my three cases expecting to walk home taking some shots along the way. That never happened. I was walking across the field shooting some of the drifts with that sky and the sun, there were some interesting shadows. I put on the flash and was popping away when a truck stopped over on the road and sounded the horn.
It could only mean one thing. The time had passed, they needed me at the centre, and I hadn’t heard the radiopager. So I hiked over to the truck to see one of the health centre workers sitting behind the wheel. I walked over and he told me that he was taking his dog for a run and did I want to ride along and see some of the area.
I asked why he stopped and how he had recognized me that far away. He said there’s only one guy in town that would be taking pictures in the sun with a flash. He has a great sense of humour that way and as I climbed in his dog jumped into the back. Now his dog is a cross sheppard and husky, about three years old. He told me that he loves to run and you could see that.
The dog remained inside until we got past the kids playing hockey in the street. We waited. They moved the net and shortly got to the outskirts. He told me that if I want to stop anywhere just tell him and he would. We stopped I took some shots and we let the dog out. He ran slightly ahead of us along the road and looked to me how I imagined a sled dog would run.
We didn’t go fast, you can’t here, but we did go what I think would be about 5-8 kilometers to where some of the cabins are built. These are used all year round. It was hard to imagine riverbed and bay areas with the frozen landscape that we were seeing. The road had been built high so it would blow free from the drifting, but a couple of times we made our own paths though the snow and ice. Here I was, FOUR WHEELING ON THE TUNDRA in mid-January. Arctic Action figures sold separately. The Sirius Satellite Radio aboard played on.
When we stopped to take photos either out through the window or standing outside the vehicle, his dog would bury his snout, blow the snow and proceeded to roll in the snow drift. He was like a kid playing for the first time, but it was repeated so many times that I think he just loves the snow. I said to Sam I think you just need to add a harness to him and he would go. Sam smiled.
The temperature was supposed to climb to 23 (for those new people following along the minus here is still understood until about July). The weather channel has still not returned to the cable lineup and my local internet wireless connection has failed to re-establish so I have become more of an observer as of late.
I had a tour of the area yesterday. I got called in to the health centre (I had to return the truck there anyways). I finished my three cases expecting to walk home taking some shots along the way. That never happened. I was walking across the field shooting some of the drifts with that sky and the sun, there were some interesting shadows. I put on the flash and was popping away when a truck stopped over on the road and sounded the horn.
It could only mean one thing. The time had passed, they needed me at the centre, and I hadn’t heard the radiopager. So I hiked over to the truck to see one of the health centre workers sitting behind the wheel. I walked over and he told me that he was taking his dog for a run and did I want to ride along and see some of the area.
I asked why he stopped and how he had recognized me that far away. He said there’s only one guy in town that would be taking pictures in the sun with a flash. He has a great sense of humour that way and as I climbed in his dog jumped into the back. Now his dog is a cross sheppard and husky, about three years old. He told me that he loves to run and you could see that.
The dog remained inside until we got past the kids playing hockey in the street. We waited. They moved the net and shortly got to the outskirts. He told me that if I want to stop anywhere just tell him and he would. We stopped I took some shots and we let the dog out. He ran slightly ahead of us along the road and looked to me how I imagined a sled dog would run.
We didn’t go fast, you can’t here, but we did go what I think would be about 5-8 kilometers to where some of the cabins are built. These are used all year round. It was hard to imagine riverbed and bay areas with the frozen landscape that we were seeing. The road had been built high so it would blow free from the drifting, but a couple of times we made our own paths though the snow and ice. Here I was, FOUR WHEELING ON THE TUNDRA in mid-January. Arctic Action figures sold separately. The Sirius Satellite Radio aboard played on.
When we stopped to take photos either out through the window or standing outside the vehicle, his dog would bury his snout, blow the snow and proceeded to roll in the snow drift. He was like a kid playing for the first time, but it was repeated so many times that I think he just loves the snow. I said to Sam I think you just need to add a harness to him and he would go. Sam smiled.
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