Regina Saskatchewan to Whitehorse Yukon Territory
In beginning, God created . . .
August 11, 2002Ten days ago, I departed Regina following an incredibly festive final service at Eastside United Church in Regina. If, as Dawn, my former colleague says, each goodbye is a rehearsal for the final goodbye–death–then I really would like to be around for my funeral. For me, the service was a celebration of life and ministry. Actually, much of the process of preparation leading up to my departure has felt like a little death. In fact, during one of my garage sales, a person asked if it was an estate sale. When I responded, “Yes,” he then asked whose estate. He was a bit baffled when I said, “Mine.”
One of my teachers and mentors, Rachel Naomi Remen, believes that a question makes a good companion for a journey (reference). The question I chose as a companion for this particular journey is “what is sacred?” In order to enrich my journey with that question, and to focus my travel, I also enrolled in a course through St. Stephen’s Theological College entitled, “Sacred Places and Sacred Spaces.” Two of the text books for the course included maps of sacred places in North America. The first book, Spirit of the Land: Sacred Places in Native North America by Saskatchewan photographer, Courtney Milne, came to me as a farewell gift from my dear friend, Mary. The second book, Atlas by Colin Wilson, was a welcome addition to Carell toasting the journey from Buckskin while Buster and Odin watchmy small mobile library on board Buckskin. Before departing, I set as one of my goals to visit as many of these locations as possible.
The journey began as scheduled on August 1. Buckskin swung out of the parking lot of the church at about 7:30 a.m., heading north for Dundurn. I spent my first evening in the company of my very good friend, Carell (former owner of Buckskin). That evening, when we took our dogs, Buster and Odin, outside for some exercise, there was a spectacular display of the aurora borealis. Celestial artwork! I took it as a good omen.
The next day, I continued north to Saskatoon and visited Wanuskewin Heritage Park. Wanuskewin is a Cree word for “seeking peace of mind” or “living in harmony.” Milne points out that “five Indian nations, three levels of government and local corporations cooperated in the development and protection of this area as a heritage site” (192). He quotes Wanuskewin Cree guide, Wes Fineday, who describes the valley as “a haven of neutrality where tribes lay down their arms.” Archaeologists believe the area has been inhabited for over 6000 years. The site continues to be regarded as sacred and is still used by Native Americans for sacred ceremonies.
I spent a leisurely afternoon roaming the trails within the sanctuary of Wanuskewin. The paths meander alongside many large rocks and boulders, and I wondered how long those rocks have sat in that place. Rock with lichenI marvelled at the lichen artwork created by some divine hand. In a very holy place, the remnants of multi-coloured prayer flags fluttered in the breeze, testaments of spiritual seekers who had come to fast and to gain support and guidance from spirit powers. Not far from there, I observed a large colony of ants marching in single file, hurrying on their way to accomplish some vital mission. As I followed the ants, I was haunted by a question posed a decade ago by a chaplain friend in the military, “Why, Kathy, are you dancing as fast as you can?” At long last, the startling answer to that question lay before my eyes upon the ground of that sacred place. Like an ant, I had fallen into line and had joined a long parade. For most of my life, I had been marching to the frantic beat of a drummer from hell, droning the words to an old song called “The Protestant Work Ethic.”
With awareness, comes the power of choice, and the possibility for change and healing. And so I stopped. And sat. “O God,” I prayed, “Lead me beside still waters. Restore my soul.” Gradually, the peacefulness and natural beauty of that holy place began to massage my soul, tenderly touching those places chafed raw by a lifetime of busyness. For a moment, the franticness faded. “Be still, dearest one,” my soul whispered. “Be still like that rock. Be still and allow the Artist to create a masterpiece.” For a moment, I experienced the space between thoughts. Perfect peace. And then, I heard that song:
The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah,
The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah,
The ants go marching one by one,
The little one stopped to play the drum,
And they all go marching down to the ground
To get out of the rain, BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
I’d better get going,” I said to no one in particular. “I want to make it to North Battleford tonight.”
And the race begins…
That night, I spent my first night in the parking lot of a Walmart! I’m sure it will become a familiar experience. If you are not aware, Walmart allows RVs to camp for free in their parking lots–a price I couldn’t resist. I dined on Alaska King Crab and decided that some of the best meals in North Battleford may actually happen in the parking lot of the local Walmart.
I find it interesting that some of the most heavily criticized retail corporations provide such outstanding examples of hospitality. The continent-wide policy of Walmart stores to extend hospitality to Rvers is an example. I grant that they benefit from the policy through sales to their parking lot campers and from the added security provided by these boondocking watchdogs. Over and above their parking lot generosity, however, it would seem that hospitality is a cornerstone of Walmart policy. I have often joked that if I were unemployed, I would probably have good qualifications as a Walmart greeter. Churches could learn from Walmart. Imagine if clergy had “How can I help you?” embroidered on the back of their liturgical garments? As another example, a woman I know who has a severely restricted diet, tells me she and her husband can go to McDonald’s because they allow her to bring in her own food.
From North Battleford, my journey took me to Wainwright, the home of my husband Ron. We hadGlacial lake along the Alaska Highway in northern BC originally planned to take a quick trip to Las Vegas but that didn’t work out, leaving Ron with a week of holidays and no destination. Before setting out on my trip, however, I had made arrangements to meet my friend, Mary, in Whitehorse in mid-August. So instead of flying to Las Vegas, Ron and I decided to head north with the idea that we would meet up with a Greyhound travelling south that would get him back to Wainwright in time to return to work on August 9. Our whirlwind journey took us through Whitecourt, Valleyview, Grand Prairie, Dawson Creek, Fort Nelson, and Watson Lake, where Ron eventually caught the bus heading back south.
Along the highway, there are signs for many different kinds of animal crossings, everything from deer and moose, Stone Sheep along the Alaska Highway in northern BCto sheep and caribou. Near Muncho Lake, we came across some stone sheep alongside the highway. They like licking the surface of the highway for the minerals but, as you might imagine, it makes life interesting for the drivers. We were hoping to relax at Liard Hot Springs before heading to Watson Lake, but were not able to make a bus connection for Ron. Instead of a relaxing soak, we made a harried dash to the Yukon border, arriving just in time for the bus.
From Watson Lake, I continued along the Alaska Highway through Teslin where I learned about the Tslingit First Nations people, and how their lives have been affected by the many changes of this century. I enjoyed another evening of free camping at Mukluk Annie’s Salmon Bake restaurant!
I arrived in Whitehorse on Friday August 9 and took up residence for two nights in the Walmart parking lot. On Friday night, I counted over 50 RVs! That night, dinner consisted of fresh Arctic Char, which is like a cross between a salmon and a trout. I spent the weekend camping at Takhini Hot Springs. There, I had the luxury of an electric hook-up and daily dips in the hot spring-fed pool.
Tomorrow, I return to Whitehorse as my friend Mary is arriving on the morning flight from Vancouver. Together, we will be exploring Whitehorse, Carcross, Carmacks, and Dawson City. When Mary leaves on August 20, my adventure will continue north along the Dempster Highway to Inuvik.
