Monthly Archives: March 2026

Yukon – Into the Cold

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Someone said: I’d love to see the Aurora Borealis, commonly known as the northern lights. These are caused by solar storms or flares and coronal mass ejections which interact with the earth’s magnetic field causing these colourful displays of celestial phantasmagoria. Sounded great. Who wouldn’t want to see this natural light show? 

When is the best time to see this? Not in the winter when it’s dark for twenty-three and a half hours. Not in the summer when it never gets dark. Not in the fall when it’s still nice and temperate, even in the Yukon. ‘No, it’s best in the middle of March, just before breakup,’ someone said. Who is breaking up? Nobody. It’s the time when the ice and snow melts and the rivers groan and heave when they break into large chunks of deadly ice, jamming and damming along the banks, under the bridges and also taking away the ice roads which connect the two shores of the Yukon and the Klondike rivers during the winter months. We wanted to be there before that happened. We agreed on the first week of March as the time when all of us would be around (some of us spend the winters in the sun) and before the gardens needed attention. Temps should be wintry but not too cold and the skies would be clear.

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Epic Tragedy

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‘What do you think of Trump’s war against Iran?’ I asked Camp when we met for our weekly beer-chat at the Pub by the harbour.

            ‘You mean Epic Fury? The most arrogant and foolish misadventure of any president or dictator in recent history. There were other vengeful wars started for personal hubris from the Peloponnesian wars to Operation Barbarossa, Hitler’s disasterous invasion of Russia but nothing quite as senseless as this war with Iran. There is no plan, no clear objective and no easy way out. It’s just plain stupid.’

            ‘I knew you’d have an opinion, Camp. What’s really unfortunate is that this pointless war will impact everybody, everywhere and it will make life in Iran even harder for its citizens then it already was. More repressive, more isolated, more hopeless.’

            ‘I’ve read an essay by Peter Barker, former Chief White House correspondent. This is what he said last week: “Epic Fury captures the Trump presidency in its essence. It is a quintessentially Trumpian choice for the name of a war. Not for him an Operation Just Cause (Panama), Operation Restore Hope (Somalia), Operation Uphold Democracy (Haiti) or Operation Enduring Freedom (Afghanistan) or even Operation Iraqi Freedom or New Dawn. No uplifting sentiments like freedom and hope. Trump prefers rage. Everything Mr. Trump does, at least as he sees it, is epic — the biggest, the most, the first, “like we’ve never seen before,” as he likes to say. And much of what he does seems to be driven by fury. This is the Anger Presidency. Anger defines Mr. Trump’s decade on the political stage. Anger at foreigners who come to this country and change its nature. Anger at allies who take advantage of America. Anger at Democrats who cross him. Anger at Republicans who cross him. Anger at appointees he deems insufficiently loyal. Anger at prosecutors, F.B.I. agents, judges, journalists, law firms, elite universities, cultural figures, corporate leaders, pollsters, central bankers and the Norwegian Nobel Committee.”

            ‘Yes, that sums it up nicely,’ I said.  ‘It’s an Epic Tragedy for the whole world. To be ruled by an angry old man with nothing but hate and vengeful fury inside his head is indeed a tragedy unfolding.’ 

            ‘I’m waiting for the ‘No Kings’ demonstrations on the 28th March. A big turnout is expected across the USA. Will it change anything?’ Camp asked.

‘Probably not. It will make Trump even madder,’ I said. He would probably love nothing more than to deploy the troops out into the streets of his own country to squash all dissent and opposition. He will take it personally, I’m sure.’

‘Unless the army brass refuses to attack their own citizens, as they do in Iran and other autocracies, there will be no change, only more retribution, hate and fear. More disruption and chaos.’

‘Something to look forward to including higher fuel costs, airline tickets and groceries. Nothing like shocking the world economy into overdrive. And we got three more years to go unless he chokes on a cheeseburger,’ I said.

We both drank to that and right on cue Vicky showed up with two fresh ones. 

‘Did I hear cheeseburger? I thought you two lived on beer.’

Air-Travel in the Modern Age

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 ‘How was your trip?’ Camp asked first off. 

‘Travelling, or more precisely, flying is just not what it used to be,’ I said. ‘It’s a common refrain that I hear over and over, especially in airports.’

‘I suppose it’s true. It’s definitely not the same as back in the seventies when you could smoke on the plane, gourmet meals were incentives to get travellers to book with that airline, seats were generous and tickets were certainly cheaper,’ Camp said. ‘That’s why I don’t go anywhere. It’s best right here at home.’

‘I remember flying on a Jumbo Jet and the upstairs was an open lounge. Also, there was virtually no security. No searches, no stripping down to your socks at the automated roll-cages, walking through the body scanner and practically being cavity searched. Thanks to Richard Reed, also known as the shoe bomber, who in 2001 tried unsuccessfully to blow up a transatlantic flight from Paris to Miami, millions of people have to take their shoes off at airport security checkpoints the world over until this day. Back in the day, the name on the ticket didn’t even have to be your own. I sold a ticket from Vancouver to Montreal to my friend Derek because I didn’t need it anymore and he got it from me for a bargain.

‘I remember. You could also post your tickets for sale in the newspapers’ classified columns.  And you could show up an hour before your flight time.’

‘Imagine that. These days you have to arrive 3 hours prior to your departing flight and after you passed all the checkpoint and security procedures and pointless searches for contraband like water bottles or too big a tube of toothpaste you get to sit in overcrowded waiting rooms. Shopping is reduced to so called ‘duty-free’ shops which are just shiny booze and perfume outlets.’ 

‘I remember the days when there was a bookstore or two at the airport. A Smith or a Hudson News. Now, a few best sellers are displayed between glamour mags and junk food.’

‘Yes, travelling is a different kettle of fish these days. Hours and hours of pointless waiting in one line or another, waiting on uncomfortable seats with armrests so nobody can lay down. Restaurants are twice as expensive as anywhere else. A pint of beer is twelve bucks, a small glass of wine sixteen dollars. What’s with that? I guess we’re all one-time, no-return customers. Let me tell you about our latest trip, from Toronto to Vancouver. Simple, right? Our flight was scheduled to leave at 10AM. We were at the airport at 6:30. Clare likes to be first in line. After we found where the domestic bag drop was we joined the queue for the poxy security, then sat at the wrong gate until we figured out that there was a gate change.’

‘Nothing like relaxing under pressure,’ Camp quipped. I ignored his remark.

‘Finally, we were allowed to board, along with 300 other people. We found our seats, as usual at the back since we don’t like to pay for upgrades or seat selection. I figure we all get to our destination at the same time. We were lucky to find a space to jam our bag in the overhead bin. We had a middle and an aisle seat back in row 38. There were 42 rows on this Airbus which is more comfortable than the Boing 737. We were almost celebrating that the window seat was going to remain empty which would have given us more space to sprawl. It was not to be. ‘I took a s sip from my pint. ‘Here comes the good part.’

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