(July 29)
Dear Folks,
We are back at Ft. McPherson. We were going to check out the territorial park outside of town, which we did. We didn’t get very far. The office is up a flight of stairs. There is no phone number to call. I would have approached the building in Karma and tried to get the attention of whoever was in there. But a truck blocked the path. So we came back to the town park. The last time we were here, we were the only ones. This time, there are at least three tents pitched. On our way to the park, we stopped at the police station to check in. There is a ramp. What we did not see was that there is a drop right before the door. We rang the buzzer. A lady came to the door. We said that we had planned to come in, but now we were stuck. She called one of the guys: an officer who was as big as Karma and me put together. He basically picked up Karma with me in her and got us back on the flat.
We are going in reverse chronology. We have learned to get gas whenever you can. So when we got to town, we found a convenience store with a gas pump. When I tried to exit Miracle, I was dragging something: the free dustpan that we had gotten with our free broom. She got very tangled in our wheels and caused Karma to briefly shut down. But Karma came back. A nice man getting gas helped me. He said that the pump was tricky and that he would happily pump for us.
He asked where we are from. I told him Maine and started to explain. He said that he knew Maine and acclaimed, “You came all that way by yourself!” I said that I had service dogs. He said, ‘You are very brave.” I replied, ‘Or very stupid.” He said that sometimes it’s the same thing.
In yesterday’s post, we commented on all the snowmobiles scattered along the highway. We asked Zoey, the young lady at the campground, about that. All the snowmobiles here are called skidoos. She said that people have cabins at Husky Lake. To get there in the winter, people pull off the road in their trucks and then take to their skidoos. Everyone knows which belongs to whom and there is never any trouble.
The photo of people in native dress is from the hospital. We had seen a variety of vehicles come to the hospital with numbers on their sides. That is the tribal transportation system: no bus, but people can call and get rides to where they need to go. A few of the vehicles are wheelchair accessible.
The photo of the two men is of Yunis (the older man) and Jamie (I hope that I’m spelling their names right). When we went up to the hospital last night, Jamie was working security (different from the weekend guy). He said that I couldn’t bring pets into the hospital. I explained that they were service dogs and protected by law. I suggested that he call his supervisor. He did: that’s who Yunis is. These men were polite and interested. We had a little service dog 101 class. They said that they had never encountered this before: they knew only about guide dogs. They thanked us for educating them. They made copies of Dusty and Mari’s IDs. They said that they will educate the rest of the staff and that the Girls will be the poster children. So they are famous and modeling in the far corners of the world.
I asked Yunis if he was from the area. He said no, he was from a little African country called Eritrea. I got points for knowing where that is. He came to Canada in 2002. He had decided to live in every big city for a year. He lived in Winnipeg and Calgary, among others. He came to Inuvik in 2007. He said he cannot escape.
Jamie is from a little hamlet within 100 km of Inuvik. He left home and was in the military stationed in Yellowknife and Ottawa. His sister, who had come to Inuvik, asked him to come there–which he did in 2013.
We really had a nice visit. Yunis paid us the compliment of saying how easy it is to talk to us.
Tomorrow we head down to Eagle Plains and the next adventures.
Hugs and wags.
The Lowman Family.
PS: Sorry for the typos–Vicky, our phone, won’t let us correct right now.