ODDS ‘N’ SODS — On the `Road to Resources’

When we completed the 200 miles of access road from Watson Lake, Yukon, to Canada Tungsten’s mine site in the Northwest Territories, we were surprised at the variety of traffic over the route. It was called a “Road to Resources.”

Several Indian families frequented the area from Lower Post in the south. They were trappers, loggers, big game guides and general roustabouts who wandered in close-knit family groups over the region from Cassiar to Watson Lake to Teslin. They lived in tents — winter and summer — and transported their worldly goods with them as they migrated.

Proud and independent, they survived by trapping fur animals and by trading for the needs of the group. Food supply came largely from the migrant moose and caribou population. Camp was set up in meager tents at each “kill site.” When finally all the animal was consumed (meat for food, fur for rugs and carpets, and skin or hide for shoes, gloves and outer-wear apparel), a new victim was sought. And the families migrated to the new site location. We were amazed at the sudden appearance or disappearance of the tent camps. The sites were kept meticulous, orderly and clean and on departure they were left without evidence of occupancy. Relations within the family were deeply cordial and, as well, local road travellers were welcomed with a pot of coffee or hot moose stew.

On occasion, urgent medical aid was required and we did not hesitate to respond with a vehicle trip to the local doctor in Watson Lake or to the skilled nurse in our camp.

Finally, a predatory wolf pack arrived at the scene and the game animals disappeared as fast as the wolves appeared. The natives’ food base gradually eroded and soon the tents vanished from our access corridor as the migrants followed their elusive hosts.

We greatly missed the hospitable and colorful wanderers with their dependence on the natural abundance and beauties of the MacKenzie Mountain animal kingdom. Wherever they were, however, we knew that they would be welcoming each dawn and dusk of their richly endowed frontier with simplistic faith and an inimitable lifestyle.

— S.J. Hunter, a retired mining engineer, lives in Vancouver.