Vuntut Gwitchin Elders and youth gather at heritage camps
https://www.whatsupyukon.com/yukon/communities/It was a perfect summer morning in July 2023. Vuntut Gwitchin youth and Elders gathered for breakfast at their heritage camp beside Dachan Tr’iivan (Bonnet Lake), roughly a 30-minute helicopter ride from Old Crow, Yukon. As they ate, the group looked up to a mountain ridge across the lake and saw lines of Porcupine caribou moving south along the mountain.
“We were just all standing there in awe, just watching caribou, because caribou is part of who we are—our lifestyle,” said Mary Jane Moses, Teetl’it Gwich’in Elder and heritage facilitator in Old Crow. “The youth, they were just so excited because of what that meant for all of us; soon we’re going to have caribou meat again, we’re going to eat good again.”
Moses was thrilled to see the caribou coming through Vuntut Gwitchin Traditional Territory on their fall migration back to their wintering grounds, but she also wondered why they were earlier than usual. In fact, over the past few years she has noticed a change in the animals’ seasonal rounds. They’ve stayed to the east, in Alaska, longer.
“They’ve been doing that for a few years now,” said Moses. “Most people are saying they’re staying in Alaska because it’s too strenuous for them to make their way through deep snow. It’ll just deplete their energy levels and they’ll be in poor shape.”
The Porcupine caribou herd’s range covers 250,000 square kilometres in northern Yukon, northeastern Alaska and the northwestern edge of the N.W.T. They have the longest yearly land migration route of any mammal, travelling roughly 2,400 kilometres between their calving grounds, on the Coastal Plain of Alaska, to their wintering grounds in the boreal forests of the Yukon and the N.W.T.
“I think they’re smart that they stay in one place,” said Moses. “But then, on the other hand, we depend on the caribou for food. So, it’s been hard on people who rely on caribou meat versus store-bought meat.”
Moses was waiting for the herd to return so she could restock her freezer and make her grandchildren dry meat and ch’itsuh (pemmican), which is roasted meat mixed with bone grease or fat. In fact, Moses has a recipe to share at oldcrow.ca/recipe1.htm.
Shifting migration patterns is one of many changes that have been observed on Vuntut Gwitchin Traditional Territory.
“With the permafrost melting, there’s changes in the water levels: some lakes are draining, some are swamping with way more water,” said Vuntut Gwitchin heritage manager Megan Williams. “The birds are changing. There are an incredible number of seagulls, now, to the detriment of ducks.”
The Vuntut Gwitchin have seen a phenomenon called shrubification, the overgrowth of vegetation that can slowly transform the types of plants and animals that can live in the Arctic tundra. They’ve also seen the erosion of lands, making rivers wider so water levels are lower. Shallower water can make travel by boat increasingly more difficult, if not impossible.
The Vuntut Gwitchin First Nation Heritage Department designs the heritage camps, to connect youth and Elders to the land so they can see the changes and learn how to look after the land.
“The youth get a good solid basis of what the land is like, how they expect it to behave and how to work with the changes that are happening around them,” said Williams. “That’s how the teachings get passed down.”
In summer 2023, the group of four teenagers and six Elders learned traditional skills, such as how to make rope from willow bark, and spent time together laughing and sharing stories. They took a day trip to Daadzaii Van (Summit Lake) to pick cloudberries and learn about protected areas. The youth also learned how to document their experiences. They took photos and videos, and they interviewed the Elders and each other.
“These camps are opportunities for them to learn and pick up skills so that, as they get older, they practise them too,” said Moses. “They’ll teach their peers and younger children. So, that’s how we pass information down.”
By the time their six-day on-the-land camp was over and the group was ready to helicopter back to Old Crow, nearby forest fires had brought smoke into the area. It was just days before Old Crow was under an evacuation order for nearly a week, in mid-August, because of forest fires and unpredictable winds.
“We were coming back to Old Crow and we were seeing places where there was fire and thick smoke,” said Moses. “I was just wondering about the caribou we’d seen. Which direction they were going to go. If they were going to keep going on their migration route, or go a different way because of the smoke?”
Moses has been taking part in these camps and cultural activities for more than 20 years. Every time she goes out on the land, she learns something new. And she is grateful for any time she gets to share that learning with youth.
“Our people are still eager to go back to the land where they were raised up and where the land is so rich in everything,” said Moses.“When we do go back to the land, it’s healing just to be out there in the wild spaces, observing the land, seeing the changes on the land, and all that.”
