Guest Blogger: ManNorth
I must say that I enter into this “Blog” with a bit of trepidation, as when one begins to voice one’s opinions there often follows a host of counter opinions, and certainly I, over the last two score years and a bit, have made certain observations that have left me not only questioning the opinions of others but their sanity as well, particularly concerning the natural world, which is universal - although, that is just my opinion. But, as Darwin said, “Nature breeds awful doubt”, and I have doubted. So when seemingly reasonable people tell me, with an air of authority, things the like of which could not possibly be true I have to take a step back and question whether it is best to keep my fool mouth shut or wade into the thick of things, offering up my humble opinion for sacrifice. These days I prefer the former to the latter; we choose our battles after all, and nature in the end will win.
None the less, with the coaxing of my wonderful wife, who is perhaps a little tired of me coming home and bemoaning yet another offence to reason which I have encountered, here is my first blog entry.
There are two kinds of people: those who talk and those who know. Those who talk, talk and those who know… well you get the idea. It takes time to really get to know something and longer still before that something can stand up to scientific scrutiny. Some people, on the other hand, are rather impatient and seldom have the time or the inclination to bother with such things as facts, so they prefer to talk instead, and as any salesmen can tell you, it’s not so much what you say as how you say it that counts. People up north tend to be gifted talkers, but I myself can do with a little less talking. And herein begins my rant.
Upon landing a job in the far north one would think that the subject of the weather would eventually enter one’s mind, what with the north’s mythical cold and unendurable darkness, and that any new-comer would be overly concerned with how to deal with such meteorological problems. Indeed, as I write this, it is -30 C with a wind-chill of -43 C (more on this wind-chill stuff later). But then I rode my bike the 5km home from work on Friday, across the lake ice, through the bush and finally down the river, all while facing a stiff wind and still find myself capable of mashing the key pad into legible words. The weather, in fact, was the furthest thing from my mind, and there was no pre-requisite shopping spree at the local sporting goods store for the latest in cold weather haute couture. I have been north before and was well prepared to face what ever the weather threw our way. I don’t mean to sound flippant here; only to state fact: I have been on 6 major self-supported Arctic expeditions, 3 of which were on the sea ice and all were solo. I have covered thousands of km on foot and canoe without seeing another human being. This, I feel, gives me a rather unique set of qualifications, but still I’m no expert. Leave that to the talkers.
During the winter months my job demands that I patrol by snow machine the largest river delta in Canada, and before doing so, I was ordered to buy some “proper” winter gear. When I told my supervisors that I had indeed my own gear which I have been using for 25 years and therefore trusted, their rebuttal was to shake their heads and say “that stuff doesn’t work here”. Of course no one ever elaborated as to why it did not “work here” and I was left rather perplexed thinking that perhaps here the laws of physics were somehow different and that maybe everything I knew about thermodynamics was wrong. So, after lengthy deliberations with said supervisors, I broke down and purchased, (read was told to buy) among other things, a Canada Goose Parka (ask anyone who knows), and a Woods 5 Star sleeping bag (blue in photos below).
Now, Woods has been around for over a century and has made some half decent gear in the form of heavy canvas tents and packs designed for prospectors and other stalwarts of the old school. I even own some of their equipment myself. My Uncle used a 5 Star sleeping bag over 30 years ago. Back then it didn’t even have a zipper; instead it was festooned with snaps to close its rather cumbersome canvas fabric and wool blend blanket liner. Then, as now, it had no hood. When I was in Boy Scouts, the Scout Leaders all had 5 Star sleeping bags too, but like my Uncle their winter camping excursions were limited to heated cabins. In fact, the venerable 5 Star sleeping bag has followed me throughout my life and I will admit that there is a certain rustic charm at rolling out a 25 lb bag and crawling in; the same kind of impractical charm as a chuck wagon or a Commodore 64. So, although I have never owned one myself I have used them on various occasions.
The Woods 5 Star has a temperature rating of -40 C, which at first glance should mean something, but without a hood or drawstring this claim is highly suspect. My sleeping bag (red one in photos) also has a -40 C rating; the same one which I was told does not work here. It was made by The North Face 25 years ago and yet aside from some stains here and there, still retains its 12 inches of loft. It weighs roughly 5 lbs in total; 3.2 lbs of which is 700 fill goose down. I have used it on every one of my winter expeditions (outside, in the Arctic, not in a heated cabin), any one of which lasted 6 months or more with temperatures plummeting to -50 C and below. Therefore I trust it.
My new 5 Star, on the other hand, weighs about 20 lbs, has a reported 3.5 lbs of duck down (fill power conveniently unspecified). It has 5 inches of loft. Minus 40 C? I think not. The only caveat is that I did not have to pay for this with my own money and we wound up with a new quilt for the bed, which is all it seems to be good for. But, then that’s my opinion.
The North Face Inferno
Woods Arctic 5 Star
A final note: since the purchase of my first North Face sleeping bag reviewed here, the company has recently changed hands so many times that it no longer resembles its original incarnation. So, although I have high praise for my old North Face gear, I cannot say the same for the current brand as a whole.
We stopped for a break and had hot coffee, cheese & crackers at the edge of a narrow creek.
My snowshoes cast pretty shadows on the snow during our snack break.
With a better camera and lens, I might have been able to capture the many tiny cabins that line this lake. Most are shut up for the winter, although tell-tale snow mobile tracks suggest that some are visited occasionally, perhaps as winter camps during hunting or ice fishing excursions.
Flocks of redpolls flitted through the trees as we snow-shoed (sp?) along the trails. A group alighted in some alders and willows near us, giving us a chance to see them up close. The birds are unusually skittish, compared to birds in the south, and refuse to be called in, although I’ve tried “spishing” for them repeatedly. Of ten photos we took as the flock moved through the scrub, only one frame successfully captured on of the birds peering briefly at us before flying off with the rest of the flock.
Scattered occasionally under alder bushes was evidence that windblown alder seeds also provide food for redpolls. Look for the marks a wing made as a bird alighted (or flew away).
Foxes, birds and snow machines weren’t the only passers-by to leave trails in the snow. Our tracks cut across tiny sastrugi formed by the wind into pretty ridges and wave-like patterns in the snow covering the lakes.
ManNorth has the camera today so I won't be able to share a photo. Instead, I'll share are a few I took this past weekend as the sun rose (and set) while we were out exploring on our skis. The temperature was a frosty -30C but I still managed to overheat and had to shed one of my wool sweaters. 
Leaning trees along the shore at local noon
A favourite view from south of Northern Town at midday. 
In the photo above, the team has just passed between the posts and are beginning their turn. The female passenger has jumped off and out of view on the right to replace a post that was knocked over.
I'm at least moving on the ice, unlike this beached hulk, abandoned long ago on the shore.
