As Canadians living in the south-western reach of British Columbia, we rarely get the chance to experience the vastness of our great Country. Sure, living in the lower mainland we are blessed with scenic mountains, the ebb and flow of the ocean, and beautiful parks and trails. Nunavut however, offers a land of untouched purity hard to find amongst our millions pressed between the mountains and the sea.
The territory of Nunavut (which means "our land") stretches some 1.9 million square kilometres and is nearly one-fifth the size of Canada and became the newest territory on April 1st, 1999. The author experienced this land during the month of August (04) while on a gold exploration project. While the search for gold is an adventure unto its own, the discovery of Nunavut land and animals will forever be etched on his soul.
While working and traveling on the tundra, one feels a sense of the urgency ever present in the life struggle of her plants and animals. Low lying shrubs compete for space and nutrients between rocks and crevices. They’re all fighting for the attention of the short summer sun to prepare their seeds and roots for the long cold sleep. Caribou, the tundra’s lifeblood can be found in abundance foraging in solitaire or small groups. Mothers and calves stay close together feeding continuously, irregardless of our presence. Everything in Nunavut has a purpose. Life and death are ever present in their constant dance of survival of the fittest.
On one particular occasion, the author witnessed a tundra wolf in slow pursuit of a wounded Caribou. While working on a raised rock outcrop a limping caribou passed between he and a lake approximately 100 metres away. Not more than 30 seconds behind, the low slung predator stalked his prey slowly but purposefully giving little heed to the human watching. Soon after, both were out of site and the author could only imagine what happened next. Was it a quick kill or was it a slow agonizing slaughter? A mixture of emotions flooded the author’s soul, from fear and sympathy for the caribous’ inevitable doom to exhilaration from witnessing one of natures plays unfolding in front of his eyes.
At first, the barren tundra appears lifeless and foreboding. After a period of time however, your senses begin to tune themselves to what makes the tundra a special place. The wind is always present and seems a hindrance, but soon it becomes your constant companion bringing clear crisp air, unpolluted air! Breathing Nunavut air became a daily gift no matter the weather conditions.
Writing about the Tundra would not be complete without speaking about the weather. The author arrived on August 1st, and the daytime temperature would reach a balmy 18 degrees Celsius during the day. Over the course of just one month, every type of weather imaginable occurred in three days cycles. Gorgeous sun filled days without a cloud in the sky, overcast and blowing rain, and misty fog. On August 25th we were hit with a blowing snow squall that shut down all camp operations and helicopter flights. In Nunavut, you worked and lived by the weather.
When the humidity was high and the wind low you knew you were in for it. Imagine the worst bug day you have ever had. Now multiply those bugs by about 50 million and place them all around your head! It’s hard to believe so many bugs can exist! Sometimes it felt as if you were the only blood meal on the entire tundra. One quickly learns that bugs too have a cycle. Newly hatched bugs don’t seem as highly skilled in attacking as those a few days old. Luckily, bug jackets and insect repellant offer some protection but the best protection is standing on a ridge with your face to the wind.
For all the hardships experienced nothing can sway the author’s opinion about the beauty and magnificence of such a breathtaking place. Each and every day brought a new experience on a landscape that never ends. One spectacular place of beauty is Wilberforce Falls found on the Hood River (both named by the explorer John Franklin) about 50 km before entering the Arctic Ocean. Wilberforce is a triple falls dropping the contents of the Hood fifty metres into a hollowed out pool. The aura of this place was enhanced with the knowledge that John Franklin stood in the very same spot where we had lunch, beside our helicopter.
Nunavut’s splendor is something of a Canadian treasure and the author wishes everyone could visit this place at least once in their lifetime. The purity of this untouched landscape has left its mark forever.
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