Northern Reflections

     My wife, Carolyn, and I can see Teresa Island from our dining room. It rises 1, 391 meters above the waters of Atlin Lake, making it the world's  tallest fresh water island. The view is important to us, because up here, just 55 kilometers shy of the Yukon border in northwestern B.C., light is precious. At Christmastime, we get only four hours of daylight. So when we built our house here four years ago, we didn't want our kitchen and dining room window, where we spent most of the day in shadow cast by the low-angled sun in the northern sky. The fact that we obtained a splendid view of Teresa Island in the process was a welcome bonus.

     This vast northern landscape and the solitude of our new home are a dramatic contrast to the life we left behind in Toronto, where we lived in a 1904 house near Kensington Market. No longer can we hear our neighbor's stereos, nor smell their cooking. In the city, our house boasted a 20-foot frontage, but here on Atlin Lake, our five-acre lot is surrounded on all sides by Crown land. Our closet neighbors are barely in sight. On a winter night we hear only the occasional owl, or perhaps wolves further up the mountain howling at the moon under the cobalt and emerald veils of the Northern Lights.

     This is not conventional country living. Many of our friends and colleagues have "gone rural", but they have stayed within driving distance from the city. When we feel the urge for urban comforts, we head along the Alaska Highway to Whitehorse airport, 190 kilometers away. Then it's on to Vancouver, and in my line of consulting work, the route often takes me further - to Ottawa. Fortunately, I only have to make the trip once a month, just to maintain essential personal contacts among my clients. My computer, phone and fax do the rest.

     With a seven-year-old in  tow, Carolyn and I were in no position to retire when we chose to pull up stakes. Even so, the move north was something we just had to do. Our Toronto friends questioned our sanity, especially when I relate stories or record low temperatures... of air so cold we need three heaters to get an engine to turn over... that ice cream left in the trunk of cars has to be thawed indoors for a couple of hours before it is soft enough to scoop. But wild and rugged places have been a recreational pastime for us. They're in our blood. After the rigours of trips to Baffin Island and Nepal, Atlin feels civilized and comfortable.

     Don't think we live without creature comforts, however. Our two story log home, which we built from scratch with the help of a local contractor, boasts 2,400 square feet of living space, has two bathrooms and radiant heated floors. It meets all the specifications of modern living, but above all, it's setting, overlooking some of the most magnificent mountain scenery I've ever seen, that remains its best asset.

     Two weeks ago, I looked out my office window to see a large grey wolf ambling along the frozen lake. Through my binoculars I also could see a raven enjoying some tidbit, when the wolf stopped in its path and wandered over for a closer look. The raven took flight and circled the curious wolf, squawking indignation. The mammal sniffed, looked up for a minute , decided against the cuisine, and sauntered off. I turned back to my computer screen and continued writing a strategic planning report workshop I had facilitated in Ottawa a few days earlier. Rarely have I been more amply rewarded for making the move north.

Bob Couchman
Harrowsmith Country Life