Derrick Coyle
The trip is a long one.
Eleven hours after a 6:00 a.m. departure from London, Ontario and a pair of flight transfers, in Toronto and Vancouver, the Air Canada jet was in tranquil decent to Whitehorse through a couloir of snow-capped, mountainous beauty set against rich blue skies.
The expression of the middle-aged woman occupying the window seat beside me instantly transformed. Now, wide-eyed and beaming as she snapped photos and soaked in the view with childlike fascination.
“Been here before?” I asked, with a smile.
“I grew up here,” she said, eyes awash with emotion. “This is my first time back in 15 years. I just love it. Someday, I’ll move back here for good.”
I suddenly had the feeling I was about to visit a very special place.
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Snow Carving, Russian style
This was the 50th anniversary of the Yukon Sourdough Rendezvous Festival. The festival itself is a week-long continuum of meticulously coordinated activity. Between competitive and entertainment offerings, there is something for participants and spectators of every description. Snow carving, dog sled rides, hockey tournaments, hair freezing contests, Cancan dancers, chainsaw chucking, log tossing, flour packing, axe throwing, Snowshoe Shufflers, arm wrestling, Scrabble tournament, Rendezvous Queen competitions … to name a few. The Sheepdogs, the popular, Juno Award winning band from Saskatoon were on hand to close the week.
Flour Packing – Karina (2nd Place)
Some of the competitions were fierce demonstrations of strength and endurance, but Yukoners are a hardy lot. The opening round of the Flour Packing event for women involved a 50 foot trek in the bone-chilling cold, all under an incredible 460 pound load.
Participation – and a good part of the fun – in the week-long celebration, involved dressing the part. Throughout town, at all hours of the day, vendors sported colourful, period apparel. Residents and visitors are not exempt from the costume custom and could be spotted wearing garters, top hats, Festival buttons, and various other paraphernalia to avoid apprehension by the Keystone Cops who circulated town and rounded up dress code offenders – freed only with a charitable bail donation.
Gillian Campbell
Some of the more elaborate costumes were found at various entertainment venues and in the Queen Crowning events. Gillian Campbell, a longtime performer from British Columbia and Honourary Lifetime Member of the Yukon Sourdough Rendezvous Society, lit up the room with costume and song, in polished performances and trademark interplay with the willing audience. The Snowshoe Shufflers kicked up the energy and had the audience singing and dancing to familiar tunes, in perfect synch with the mood of the masses and the occasion being celebrated.
Snowshoe Shufflers
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One of the highlights of the Rendezvous is the series of events that culminate in the crowning of the Queen.
Judges – Rick & Valerie
Megan, Elizabeth, Melanie, Samantha
My friends and gracious hosts for the weekend, Rick Seys and Valerie Cole, were part of the judging team. This competition assesses a variety of attributes including appearance, skill, and talent. Through the course of the week, contestants compete in a fashion show, a variety / talent show, and respond to random questions. Judges assign ratings on a host of measures including: self-confidence, appearance, timing, voice projection, attitude, eye contact, and others.
It was perhaps serendipity that the original winner, 50 years ago, and this year’s Festival Queen, Elizabeth Foubister, each hails from Dawson City, the hub of the historic Klondike Gold Rush.
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Canada’s North is an environment of extremes: extreme cold in the winter; extreme light, or dark; extreme ruggedness; extreme beauty. The annual festival, is in many ways, a celebration of the uniqueness of a world in which Yukoners live. The term “Sourdough,” in the Yukon, refers to a person having experienced a full year of the elements. If you have lived in the environment for at least a year, witnessing both the freezing and thawing of the river, you are a Sourdough. A resident who has yet to cover a year is known as a Cheechako (tenderfoot or greenhorn). The locals know the scales. Minus 20 is rarely of consequence. Minus 30 becomes an issue for exposed skin and will get the nose hairs sticking. Minus 40 frosts the eyelashes and will be felt on the inhale. Wind changes everything and is monitored carefully. People buddy up and don’t go off on their own with machinery that could fail. The telltale white skin spots of frostbite is carefully watched among the exposed.
One thing that is quickly apparent for a city boy visiting Whitehorse, is the sense of community and social interaction. Part of this is undoubtedly a bi-product of the environment. There is respect for weather conditions, and the impacts of extended dark, or seclusion. There is respect for the natural inhabitants of the wild, that dominate in population. For very practical reasons, people tend to have one another’s back. But there was also a warm example of the softer, social side of this ‘one for all, all for one’ support network.
Queen Candidate – Kelsea
One Queen candidate joined the race, not with designs on winning, but as a personal development initiative. A quest to battle shyness and an intense fear of public speaking. As people who share the phobia know, the prospect of ‘freezing’ in the moment, before a staring crowd, is daunting. Her greatest fear struck at the talent competition, in mid-song. She stopped, silence filled the room. But, just for a second. A committee member who knew her story rose to make eye contact, to change the focus from a roomful of eyes, to a single friendly face. Many others knew her story, as well. The voices of compassionate audience members picked up the lyrics and filled the void while she recovered to reach the finish line and take another brave step toward her personal goal.
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People settle in Whitehorse from just about everywhere, and as explained by one fellow I met – originally from Newfoundland and who likened the friendliness and demeanor of people to those ‘back home’ – “everyone has a story.” What I came to understand from discussions with residents, whatever the story, it is considered an inconsequential detail rather than a barrier to acceptance and friendship. People here tend to welcome and support, rather than judge.
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There was perhaps no better platform to observe the diversity and cohesiveness of people, in my short stay, than at the “Safety Meeting” I was privileged to attend as a guest of the friends I was visiting. There may be similar ‘chapters’ in town, but this particular assembly – which an outsider may place somewhere between a support group and a fraternity – was attended by about 20 men and women, predominantly from the local telecommunications sector.
The membership at the meeting was assembled in an unbroken circle on comfortable furnishings at the group’s customary meeting location. The circle expanded to accommodate each arrival and I was introduced to all and received, pleasantly, as a guest. Though there was ample fortification and sustenance by way of the intermittent offerings of the hosting establishment, it was immediately clear this was more than just a social gathering of friends. There was localized conversation at various points in the circle and the occasional surreptitious shift of seating location as new networking and conversational mixes were established. In conversation with various members, I was struck by the diversity of the group. There appeared to be no original Yukoners, but people came from far and wide to settle there. At this meeting alone, there were people originally from Australia, China, New Zealand, Taiwan, Newfoundland, and Ontario.
There was, however, an unmistakable corner of power and wisdom in the Circle of Safety. A place of Bushmillsian honour occupied by the venerable, Master Keng – the member from Taiwan. It was explained that The Master is always seated in this chair and adjacent seats are coveted positions of privilege. To be positioned on either side was to have exclusive access to sagacious morsels of invaluable guidance and direction. I observed this dynamic clearly from my guest location, directly opposite the hub of wisdom. On occasion, when The Master Keng deemed a perspicacious pontification fit for general consumption, he would silently rise to his feet. On these occasions – as if by telepathic signal – a deferential hush would befall the group while The Master gratuitously dispensed dictums of wisdom with staccato-like efficiency.
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It’s a strange reaction one elicits when advising of a trip to Whitehorse in February while most travellers are boarding aircraft pointed in the opposite direction. There is generally a perplexed look on the face of the listener. “Say where?”
And responding with a shade more volume and clarity: “Whitehorse, Yukon Territory.”
While it is not likely I’ll ever be a Sourdough, or even a Cheechako, I have to say I would not have missed visiting my pals and experiencing the Rendezvous, firsthand. I look forward to seeing the flip side and experiencing the uniqueness, adventure, and beauty of Whitehorse in the warmth and extended light of the summer months.
And having at that point been present for both a taste of the glorious summer and the bite of winter, I will be known technically in the Yukon as … a Grateful Visitor.
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