“In late October 1998,
I left Edmonton with two dimes and a nickel, and an hour’s notice to prepare. I called my mushing mentor and told her what I was going to do, and she said, ‘That’s impossible.’ But my abusive spouse had just got his hunting rifle back and it was time for me to go.
So, I hitched up the team and off we went across Canada, staying on the shoulder of the highway...”
At age 67, my memory of details are fading but I will never forget my trip across Canada by dog team. What a way to see the country and meet the amazing people in it! Next year will mark my 20th anniversary of successfully completing the journey many thought was impossible.
Luckily, my five rescued dogs had been trained to pull me on an adult-size tricycle with a small trailer hitched to it, when I used to deliver flyers along a 200-house route in Edmonton. In late October 1998, we began travelling south from the city towards the Trans-canada Highway. My abusive spouse had given me great incentive to leave and keep going, even more so since his hunting rifle had been returned to him. And so my rescued dogs ended up rescuing me.
My hobby of reading about wild foods and herbal remedies along with practising it was about to come in very handy. I was also curious about winter camping and had hoped to take a course some time. When I set out, I knew I would soon learn the hard way. Edmonton was not known for its kind and gentle winters.
The kindness of strangers soon became apparent as people stopped and supplied us with food, greatly appreciated additions to what I could usually scrounge together and cook in my only pot. The RCMP got to know us and would often come out to check on us. A semi driver o‘ered to charge my cell phone for me and return it on his way home. Too bad I didn’t have one.
I had resolved not to be a burden to anyone and only ask for water. All else the Universe
provided. When it became apparent, for example, that the dogs would need protection for their paws, the first booties were made from material found in the ditch and hand sewn by me.
In Hay Lakes, Alta., I was shopping with the money from cans and bottles I had picked up along the way, when a woman told me I had been brought up as an inspiring example at a local women’s support group meeting. Then and there, I realized that this trip would touch many more lives than just my own. I decided that I would donate any funds received in excess of our needs to the Canadian Diabetic Association and the Alberta Mushers Association, being both diabetic and a musher myself.
Wannna Bet?
As we neared the Trans-canada, Allen Abel from the National
Post caught up with us for an interview. Afterwards, he shook his head at my ramshackle rig and bet me that I probably wouldn’t even make it to Ontario.
On the evening of October 12, 1999, a year into our journey, we all really enjoyed the steak dinner for eight that Allen treated us to in Kakabeka Falls—ontario: One steak for each of the dogs (I had six by then), and one for each of us.
But facing the dangers of frozen snowbanks and icy highways with long isolated stretches on a disintegrating old tricycle, I opted to retreat and regroup over the winter and resume the trip with better gear in safer weather.
We resumed our trek eastward from Kakabeka Falls on May 11, 2000, after being transported by a kind and patient friend in his 1988 Oldsmobile, hauling an old pickup-box trailer containing our gear and new-to- us tricycle/ trailer rig. About 900 kilometres down the road, on July 13, 2000, we met a lady with 52 cats who invited us to stay on a vacant acreage near Spanish, Ont., in an empty house with power and running water—it was a welcome place of refuge
By mid-august, we were in Deux Rivières across the Ottawa River from Quebec, where a love triangle of sorts took shape and altered our travel approach. We had stayed overnight at the home of a local resident, Boyd Beauchamps. By morning my lead dog, Ted, had fallen in love with Boyd and needed to be dragged out of the house when it was time to leave. I was kind of fond of Boyd, too, and as I prepared to depart, he said, “I wish I could go with you.” And that’s the story of how we were joined by an escort vehicle after some 3,000 miles of travelling alone.
Passing through Ottawa, we were all in great shape and posed on the steps of the Parliament Buildings, eager to mush on!
In Quebec we were blessed by the company of Pere Velo who became our guide, escort and translator through that province.
From there, we travelled on to Signal Hill in Newfoundland, choosing to end the eastward leg at Cabot Tower on August 25, 2001.
Westward Home
In July of 2002 we set out heading west from the spot at which we joined the Trans-canada back in 1998. The trip to the ferry was fairly routine; the only wildlife encounter we had was being chased by elk!
On Monday Aug 19, 2002 we rested happily at the Mile Zero Marker in Beacon Hill Park having done the impossible. But on that final day of the journey, in spite of all the media and public attention encountered and appreciated along the way, we found ourselves alone at the marker. As it turned out, some wrong information about our arrival had been reported locally and so our only witnesses that day were a couple from Dallas, Texas, and a few people across the street living in the Beacon Hill Apartments. I was happy though—after all, we didn’t do it for recognition, but for the joys of the journey itself! To all those who waited patiently for us that day on Dallas Street, our most sincere apologies. Ripley’s Believe It or Not got wind of our amazing experience at some point and summed it up this way: 243 days of dog team travel led to Linda Fair and her dogs becoming the first dog team in recorded history to travel all of Canada from coast to coast.
Check out Linda’s books online: Five Dog Night: A Woman’s Journey Across Canada by Dog Team, Volumes I and II. And there’s great footage to enjoy on Youtube, too! For example, search there for “Linda Fair, Interview on CJFB-TV.”
