Once more I trekked into the tundra. Uphill, from downtown, along paved roads winding between ridges. The hills are high around Iqaluit. This is because glaciers during the last ice age took gouges of land with them as they receded. Resulting in ridges and valleys as well as Frobisher Bay and its inlets. From up high you can see how this forms a pattern in the land, lines are parallel to each, easy to see due to lakes from melted snow as well as small and great rivers alike which point out where the land is low. At the edge of town, right after a lot with a completed foundation- 8 steel beams laying across six steel stilts- and a pre-fabricated frame compact in its package so that it looks like a giant lego piece, the road merges into something narrower and at somepoint -the dust makes it hard to see- you are on gravel. You, dear reader, know this route as the road to nowhere. A jeep passes, stops, and an occupant jumps out and exuberantly runs ahead while the jeep follows. They were out of sight when I treaded unto tundra and downwards to a river. I took my boots off, my pants and shirt followed suit. Mosquito bites. I walk forward.Imbalanced on slippery rocks, my feet are like extensions beginning at my ankles abruptly. Kids shout upstream, rocks replaced by deep warm mud. I enter the deep, splash, heaven -away from the bugs I hope. The water being shallow is warm. Tread water, plunge -my feet touch mud bottom, front crawl -blue sky speckled by dastartdly squeetos. Ashore, I grab my towel. The river which I am beside runs to Apex and I decided that nothing would be more enjoyable than to walk there barefoot in the river. This is difficult. Cautiously, I step from one slippery rock to the next, my body is weighed towards the arm carrying my clothing and boots. My other hand occasionally holds a digital camera, which I always return to the bag after taking a photo. A disaster waiting to happen I return to firm land. At this point I dared myself to finish the hike still in my bathing suit. It was more pleasant on land and I figured if I never stood still the bites would be few and far between. I was wrong. Nonetheless the sensation of feeling the Tundra on my feet will be a favourite memory. The lichen, mosses, rocks and flowers resulted in changing texture: cold, wet, brittle, pointy, spongy.

Although plenty of purple saxifrage can be found in the city, its out here where they are in their glory. Strewn across the land from its hillsides, to riversides and marshy areas. The dozen bites I got when I stopped to take a photo did not displace my happiness. I hung my towel around my back and kept marching, but then I zigzaged and backtracked for better angles. I took a second dip into the river, a moments liberation.

Soon I reached a gorge when the river dropped until Apex. I am readying to take a photo as the battery dies, a moment later an even better photo: Apex is in view. Apex is the original permanent settlement on this part of Frobisher Bay and is 4.5 km up the bay from Iqaluit. At this point I felt like I'd reached my destination and I clothed myself and began climbing up a hill from whose peak I hoped to see the earth's curvature. The boots changed how I moved, mainly they made it easier to walk uphill. The view was the finest I'd see up north. From here you really get a sense of how far Iqaluit is from any other settlement (yet only a three hour plane trip to Montreal). Repetitions of evenly sized ridges and valleys on one side, and the bay on the other. Apex was below and Iqaluit was beyond, but not too far off. A dust cloud hanged over it. In the distance layers of cumoulous clouds piled over the horizon but 'nare did I see the earth's curvature. I directed myself towards a man made mountain of rocks -well the mountain was no higher than me- because it seemed to be the ideal turning point for my return journey.

Standing away from the sun most of the day I now face it and accordingly put on my sunglasses. Descending the ridge I approach the river while it skirts through gorge. The cliffs taper off as if their high verticalness starts to slant outward into the steep hills. Evidently the current was safe here because kids jumped into a waterhole, and out again. But let me be clear that these were rapids and there were plenty of little waterfalls, though it was a small river overall. I got closer to Apex, a closed up fish processing plant was the closest building to me, the land became flat, the river widened, filled by plenty of rocks, ideal for hop skotching across. On the other side I arrived to the location of the country food picnic I was at so many weeks ago. Then, the river and hillside were covered in snow.

Back on pavement, I walk uphill. The road turns and Apex is out of site, essentially I am on the opposite side of the gorge. The road still rises ahead and the occasional vehicle pops over the hill and passes by quickly. This effect, vehicles rising out of the ground, a scene familiar to us both in movies and our real lives, leads my mind into an alter-world, essentially a cold war era dystopian vision of the future. I could be anywhere now, probably some mysterious state in the states, maybe Nebraska or southern Ohio. Trees are extinct in this world, after a Nuclear Fall-out. The remains, though, of the infamous Distant Early Warning infrastructure lie about me clearly signifying this to be the Arctic.

I am walking on gravel. The wind is coming from across the street so I switch to the other side to avoid gravel blowing in my face. This helps partially. A house appears, there is a hearse in its driveway. Funerals used to be simple business. Coffins were made out of wooden boxes from shipping creates. Nowadays, to grieve properly I suppose, the families of recently deceased will order coffins from the south, Ottawa or Montreal, even though this may mean delaying the funeral until the coffin arrives. Also the graveyard in Iqaluit is almost full and it is tough to find a new place for it because the region is rocky and there is permafrost and so it is difficult to dig through. The current cemetery is on a sandy section alongside the bay. Hmm. I am back in reality.


{Details on Apex: It is was founded in the 1940's although you must keep in mind that Inuit have always inhabited the area calling it Iqaluit a name which refers to the large quantity of fish, namely arctic char. Down the bay from Apex two runways were built during WW2 to move Aeroplanes (built by Americans or Canadians) across the Atlantic to the United Kingdom. In the 1950's the town of Frobisher Bay was founded where the airbase had been. Frobisher Bay was renamed Iqaluit in the mid 1980's.}

Last night I rolled out two sleeping bags, once recently purchased, hoping that things would a little warmer. One sleeping bag was alright, but I would wake up chilly. With two sleeping bags, one being used as a liner, camping is pleasant. I have camped out the last three nights as my previous housesitting gig ended -with a bang but that's another story. Last night was special because a thick fog had blown over Iqaluit by the time I headed out to the parc with bag and fishing rod. I took a few photos along the way, mainly of these big stone sculptures around town. The sculpture that stood out to me was of an Inuit couple walking with their hands held together. It isn't clear whether they are worried or in a hurry, but the looks in their face suited the foggy weather.
When I got to Sylvia Grinnel parc I cut across the flat stretches of Tundra which lie ahead of the ridges behind which flows the river rather then take the gravel road. Cutting through the Tundra was not made easy by streams, ponds, muddy patches, all invisible from the road. On my way up the ridge I saw two girls climbing boulders at the top. One of them screamed and ran down the pebble pathway-the other stayed- and said to me, as she passed, "Loose Dogs". I stood still. Lo and behold, Huskies were afoot, they seemed friendly, at least the girl up top thought this. When I reached the top the owner had leashed the dogs concerned as she was with the scream. We exchanged pleasantries, I went my way and found a suitable spot to camp, it also sloped. It would have had a nice view if not for the fog.
Once settled in I read read Miriam Toews The Flying Troutmans till it was too dim, now I write till I can't see.
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I can't see as I write. Its taking time to Fall asleep even though quite warm from the sleeping bags. I also wore the down vest my mother handed to me as I walked out the door in Toronto. The crumbs, an entire cookie's worth, came from an open pocket.There is something odd about human nature because I decided i could bear with the crumbs until morning, I didn't want to get out of the bags. Later, I compromised, I would make the effort but I would stay in the bag. In this way I learned to be an acrobat.