Grey Mountain Skies

You're searching, Joe, for things that don't exist; I mean beginnings. Ends and beginnings -- there are no such things. There are only middles.
(Robert Frost)




Watson Lake, Yukon Territory...
Such a strange and cluttered atmosphere here.
They say that this is a town of 800-900 people but with the Alaska Highway running through it as it's main street and three or four surrounding native villages - it can sometimes seem like more.

I have found that drugs and alcohol are a major social bruise here.
There is more cocaine passed around this town than I had discovered in many regions of Bolivia... Cocaine and ecstasy seem to be the major ones here and I often find myself bewildered at the small minded simple lifestyle of many of the local people...
This is many of these people's life.
I've found that there are two types of people here - those that work and stay home with their families (teachers, rcmp officers and other professionals), and those who work and then go out and get drunk. It is the social scene here - the only social scene here. I find it is hard to talk to people about anything other than gossip. No one seems interested in the world outside their tiny Watson Lake bubble..

As much as I find myself in a state of discouragement toward the majority of local people I have met here, I have to point out that - like anywhere- I have met and know a few good down to earth people who are here not because they are stuck or afraid of the outside world - but because this is their home, and they like it here.

So why have I been here for so long???

Good question..
At the moment, my situation seems ideal for where I am at. Ang has been posted in a tiny remote town 10 hours north of here, not far south of the Arctic Circle, and will be there until the end of October before heading off to Hawaii. I cannot foresee any work for me up there and so what can I do but shrug and take a look around me and either wander off somewhere else or take advantage of the oppertunities presented. After so much time travelling, finding a place to settle into and put your nose to the grindstone working is essential.

The oppertunities I've found here in that regard seem pretty ideal.
I work construction during the days; working on fixing the mistakes of the crew that built a
local contractor's 32'w x 80'L x 17'h Quanset steel building -- I've finished wiring it with the electrician, finished vapor sealing the base and am starting Insulating tomorrow. After that I'll build him an 8 foot high by 32 foot wide wood framed loft in the back and an office unit in the front... So that should keep me busy for awhile...
I like the guy I am working for and he pays well - standard Journeyman Trade wages with overtime - and he treats me really good.
I work there usually 6-8 hours during the day and then wander off to the local pub where I Bartend 6-8 hours a night... It is a decent set up - they provide me with a free hotel room to live in and though my wages are less than half what I make at the other job, I seem to manage to double the bar wage in tips each night. I'd like to say that the occasional meeting of interesting travellers passing through makes up for the nights of breaking up fights, talking down rowdy and upset patrons, throwing people out of the bar and being slandered for doing my job but in reality it isn't. The disgust I feel for most of these drunks is my own creation... Afterall, it is I who has put them in that state by pushing the alcoholic drug they all seem addicted to.

Sooo... Ya set your principles aside and put your head down and think about all the money you're banking without any expenses.. afterall, you can't eat your principles - right?
12-16 hour work days keep me busy and I prefer it that way.
This is my first day off in two weeks and I was planning on taking the rifle and going Grouse hunting this afternoon but find myself a bit lethargic.. I suppose that can wait for another day.

I love Yukon Territory... I love Whitehorse - it is one of my favorite cities.. I love the remoteness and wild beauty all around here - the people, and the social issues in some of these small and remote towns.. Well, that may be another story...

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As a side note... I had a pretty neat encounter with a person in the bar the other night...
Julia and David... Their van broke down on their way south and they've been stuck here in Watson Lake for a week already...
We were kinda just idly chatting about nothing and Julia asked me where I was from and what I had been doing - so I ran down the past five years of my life for her and when I started talking about the Queen Charlotte Islands and the year I lived there she smiled and told me that she too had spent some time there.. She went to see her best friend Celina.
"Celina.. As in Celina and Darrell?!"
She freaked out... It turns out i knew her best friend pretty well and Celina's cousin was not only Julia's roomate in Vancouver and Dawson City for years but he was also my roomate in the Charlottes and he came out to live with me in the Prarries in Edmonton for 4 months... He is one of my very best firends - Ryano.
It was such a strange and random encounter that I had to laugh... we talked and talked about people we both knew in the Charlottes and about Ryan's son, Celina's new daughter and all kinds of things that brought back some nice memories for me.. It was like we were old friends and a very weird chance encounter...
Then there is one of the girls I bartend with. she is from Vancouver Island and was dating someone I knew back in highschool - they were together for quite a long time. I knew him fairly well and he and I used to play on the same basketball team.

It is strange and welcome when random things like that happen and more and more throughout the past while it has happened more frequently to the point where it no longer seems so surprising when it does...

If only for the chance oppertunity to meet Julia and Daivd in this obscure Yukon town, in one of the local pubs while I work the bar, that is enough of an uplift to say that so far my time spent in Watson Lake hasn't been wasted in the slightest.


Joseph Sieben

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