Day 12

A nice morning here in Inuvik, and what better way to start the day than with a run through town. Not one of my greatest jogs (the last one was in Manassas 2 weeks ago), but probably one of the most memorable. (How many people have gone running above the Arctic Circle and not have had a bear chasing 'em?) On the way, I passed more of the small, run-down homes and apartments (which rent at up to C$1,000 a pop!), and even the government whale inspection station.

But what I didn't see was a lot of people. This is the biggest place for nearly 500 miles around, yet the streets seemed empty even after 10:00 am.

So, what do you do when you've reached the middle of nowhere? Go farther out, of course. That's what we did today when we took an air charter tour up to Tuktoyaktuk, a small village on the Beaufort Sea (part of the Arctic Ocean for you Southerners, eh?). Our trip got off to a rather inauspcious start near the runway when the pilot decided the plane wasn't checking out right due to a faulty magnito in one engine. (Just what we need: another mid-trip mishap.) So, we taxied back to the hanger and picked up another plane. Minutes later, we were winging our way across the broad MacKenzie delta, a crazy-quilt mix of lakes that stretches north to the Arctic. Although whales and caribou are often visible on the route, they must have been taking the day off. (At least the mosquitos had joined them.)

After landing on the permafrost runway, we taxied to the small terminal and were met by Jacob Pokiak, a young native of the area who would guide us through the sights for the next 2 hours. Jacob was everything you'd expect from a 19-year-old Inuit, right down (or up) to his flourescent red hair. But underneath his dyed locks was a wealth of knowledge and insights about life in one of the continent's northernmost communities. Tuktoyaktuk (or simply "Tuk") has been around for many years, but really took off with whaling during the early 1800s. Like Inuvik and other far north communities, Tuk enjoyed a brief spurt of property during the oil boom. A Distance Early Warning (DEW) station is located there as well, only now it is automated. The 1,000 residents fish, hunt, and work with the shipping and energy businesses. Unfortunately, there is also a booming drug and liquor bootlegging industry in this dry town. Jacob says that enveryone knows who's involved, but nobody wants to speak out.

Tuk also boasts 6 baseball teams and 5 hockey teams, the latter of which play in the indoor ice arena. The town also has a new covered swimming pool (open in summer only), and several volleyball teams. Jacob says sports is a big part of life there. Though accessible mainly from air and sea, an ice highway connects Tuk with Inuvik from mid-December to April.

Tuk is also a "Ford" town; most people buy vehicles from a Ford dealer in Hay River, who ships them to the town by barge.

During our trip, we saw the town's oldest building (a tiny Anglican Church that dates back to the early 1800s); pingos (unique mounds of ice created by permafrost pressure and topped with spongy soil and plants); "Our Lady of Lourdes," a ship that the Catholic missionaries used to transport children to their schools: and Jacob's sled dog team. We also spoke with a fisherman, visited a native crafts store, and sampled some smoked herring and beluga whale. The highlight, of course, was to stick whatever appendages we wanted into the Arctic Ocean. One gent stripped down to his shorts and dove in. We were happy to merely wade in a few feet. And yes, it's cold, but comfortable once you lose the feeling in your feet and toes.

On the flight back to Inuvik, we caught a glimpse (I hope) of Parsons Lake. Perhaps my forebears weren't so wimpy after all. They probably came up here to sell ice cream and beach towels to the natives before finally succumbing to polar bears and mosquitos.