In the early morning, the thermometer is close to -30 ° C. Not easy to get motivated to get out of the warmth of our sleeping bags... We listen. We can hear the sounds of the camp slowly awakening. The last logs crackling in the stove, the first steps cracking in the snow, and, of course, the dogs. As they are tied up to sleep, they are quiet like angels, but as soon as they feel they are ready to leave, the concert begins. Some are howling like wolves, muzzles in the air, others seem to cry like babies, some like circus lions, and some chirping like birds.
During the day, only the sounds of sleds invade the silence of the forest. The rattling of the dogs’ chains, the wood from the sled that seems to creak like an old vessel’s rigging, the sled runners on the thick snow, the creaking of the brake on the ice. The sound finally, it is the language, the accents of every one, Noah’s attempts who would love “to be able to make complete sentences with all my French words”, or Esteban’s motivation takes advantage of the trip to talk as possible with English-speaking participants. For Dylan, the challenge is even greater: “I wish I could have a good conversation with everyone at least once.”
During the day, sight takes up almost all of our senses. With Antoine, my sled partner for the day, we can’t help but marvel at landscapes that surround us. Sometimes, the pine trees seem to form a tunnel drenched with sunbeams that streak our path. Later, the sun floods a snowy plain from which emerge the summits of trees buried as the masts of wrecked ships. Then, here we go along Craig Creek river, long trail of ice through which, every now and then, pierces the swirl current in the rocks.
Taste, for sure, is the food. While on expedition, the simplest meal becomes a feast, our taste buds are sharpened by exertion and fatigue. Pasta with meatballs? A delight. Chicken curry with vegetables? A delight. The most incongruous mixtures suddenly seem quite conceivable. Strawberry jam overflowing on my potatoes, bah! Why not. And of course, there are also the “highs and lows”, two surprise packages that we may decide to open to celebrate a highlight, or for comfort after a hard blow. Yesterday, Nicolas proposed to open the first after our most physically demanding day. Everyone voted for … Inside? Chocolate ginger, licorice, raspberry gumdrops, and a package of Goldfish crackers.
Sense of smell. Yesterday, we spoke of the less pleasant smells of our four-legged friends, but winter camping smells are also about the smoke of burning wood in the late evening fire or in stoves: white or yellow birch, spruce, cedar … And then, of course, as dogs are not the only ones with smells, we improvise a very rustic bathroom in one of the tents.
Finally, sense of touch. Starting with dog hair, long, short, thick, thick, thick, shaved … Yet, touch snow, fresh and light, thick and sticky, frosty, heavy, or hard and icy. And if we had to find a sixth sense, it would be that of communication with our teams and our dogs. As the days pass by, we learn to recognize subtle variations in speed and pressure of the sled, the dogs’head movements. We can read their fatigue, their impatience or fear.
Tomorrow, second last day of the expedition. There is little time left to enjoy it. This is the time for challenges, a snow bath for Marc-André, and a night in an outside shelter for Brandon and Anthony.