When the dogs have hit their stride

Whilst I was on my Easter break, the Ivakkak finished in Ivujivik, the northernmost community in Nunavik. My pre-race pick, the team of Willie Cain Jr. & Joseph Cain, came home a creditable second, whilst the crown of Ivakkak champions went to the mononamic Novalinga Novalinga and his partner, Aibilie Moses.



Depending on your source, the word Ivakkak can mean either 'running at a comfortable speed' or 'when the dogs are at their best pace', but the definition I prefer is 'when the dogs have hit their stride.' As I have said before, it was a privilege to have been able to witness the start of the race, especially when one considers its historical and cultural significance, and seeing the dogs hit their stride that day is one of the fondest memories of my time in the North.

So, hats (or tuques) off to all those who competed, and given that the Ivakkak is now a biennial event, here's to 2011.

Mush!

The Ivakkak finally got going today, and many of us spent an enjoyable, if cold, couple of hours soaking up the atmosphere before we finally got to see the teams leave on their journey north. The Ivakkak has only been through Inukjuak once before, so to have the race actually start in the town was a prestigious honour, and there must have been a good couple of hundred people (a sizeable crowd in these parts) on site to see the teams off.

The build-up to the start of the race included a number of speeches which were then followed by one of the more joyful traditions at these type of events, whereby stacks of goodies are literally hurled into the waiting crowd who then battle to catch said goodies in the manner of fans at a baseball game trying to get their hands on a foul ball or home run. Much to my delight and surprise, I managed to pluck an Ivakkak toque (that's a woolly hat to our British readers) out of the air, and it was then off to the start line to see the teams finally begin their journey.

The Ivakkak very much combines the old with the new - each wooden sled is equipped with a GPS tracker and the whole race is shadowed by a helicopter - but it is the dog teams that remain at the heart of the event, and there were certainly some fine animals on display this morning. It surprised me that the number of dogs on each team was not even - most teams had ten, but the numbers ranged from eight up to twelve - and it is for this reason that I am going to install team #9 (Willie Cain Jr. & Joseph Cain) as my early favourites, simply because they had the most dogs. Team #12 (Johnny Aakutaaq Angnatuk & his son, Sammy) also had a dozen huskies to pull the sled, but two of them looked somewhat reticent to run and were virtually being dragged along by the others, a bit like the kids in your class at school who never wanted to take part in the P.E. lessons and consequently took forever to get changed into their kit before finally being ushered out onto the muddy field by an increasingly frustrated games teacher before he locked the changing room door.

And it wasn't just the number of dogs on each team that was uneven either, as head musher of team #1, Harry Okpik, is - to quote Peter Cook and Dudley Moore - deficient in the leg division, to the tune of one. Nonetheless, Harry has served as an inspiration for many years now, and you can read a nice little article about him from 2003 here. Harry's team was the first to leave, and one by one the other teams followed, accompanied by the cheers of the crowd as they rode away into the distance, becoming mere dots on the horizon before they finally disappeared out of sight. The helicopter that I mentioned earlier made a brief flight to check on the competitors' progress, but it then came back to town and for the rest of the afternoon a huge queue was formed as the villagers were given free sight-seeing flights over Inukjuak, a really nice touch. Whilst they were in the air, they may have been able to see the polar bear that was rumoured to have wandered into town, but much like sightings of Elvis the presence of said bear has yet to be confirmed; I shall keep you posted!

Don't forget to follow the progress of the race on the Ivakkak website, and along with news of polar bears I shall also try to keep you up to date with the race on the blog.

Gone to the dogs

As I am sure you are aware, husky dogs have traditionally played a central role in Inuit life, and whilst the Honda and Ski-Doo have long since replaced the dog team as the preferred form of transport in these parts, many huskies continue to be kept as pets. Some huskies are still bred to race though, and events such as the Ivakkak cross-Nunavik race (similar to the Iditarod in Alaska) are highlights of the cultural and social calendar.

Basically what I'm trying to say is that there are an awful lot of dogs in town, and with such numbers come the inevitable strays. Many are friendly, and will tag along with you as you walk, but every now and again you will come across the odd renegade stray, and life then becomes just that little bit more interesting.

One of my work colleagues was confronted by such a stray recently, and for a few minutes she was forced to do her best impression of one of those police dog handlers that you sometimes see at displays; you know, when they wear huge 'Michelin man' padding on their arms then get their expertly trained dog to attack them. Trouble was, she had no assistance from the Michelin man! Luckily, the man who drives the sewerage truck was on hand to help beat her canine assailant into retreat before any real damage was done - not quite the Milk Tray Man I know: that's how things are done up here - but Cujo is still on the loose, somewhere.

Twice this week I've been followed by a rather imposing looking stray husky on my way to work, and whilst my perambulations about town have so far been uneventful, I get the worrying feeling that it's only a matter of time. Dominick tells me that you should look at a dog's tail to work out what mood they're in, but it's the other end that I'm worried about. Oh well, best summon some of that British stiff upper lip, I guess. Now, what would Barbara Woodhouse do...?