The idea for this segment was actually developed—though not much—back in the fall when Jesse and Mark were putting the initial Smells Like Yukon pitch together for CBC morning show producer Arnold Hedstrom. After a lunch meeting with Arnold sometime in late November or early December 2006, we got the go-ahead to start producing segments for early in the New Year. By that time, we probably had more than 20 bankable ideas in our hopper, and the question became “Where do we start?”

Almost immediately, we got our answer. It came in the form of the glossy newspaper insert about the Yukon’s Coat of Arms, which was turning 50 years old. One look at this document—Premier Fentie’s comments about the malamute in particular—and a very rough idea began to gel into a focused story. Or at least as focused a story as our mission statement would allow.

Premier Fentie has some glowing words about the dog on the Yukon's Coat of Arms. Unfortunately, he doesn’t explain how, exactly, the animal provided “vital warmth through the cold winter nights.” Food for thought.

Yukon Commissioner Geraldine Van Bibber mentions the malamute standing on a mound of snow, but provides no indication of whether or not that mound of snow is pure white. Hard to say.

After a meeting to block out the story, we set off on the morning of January 13—a brilliantly sunny Saturday—to visit Mark's friends Martha and Rod Taylor, who run world-class dog mushing tours from their homestead near the Ibex Valley. Mark has known them both for years, so their Uncommon Journeys dog yard was a natural candidate for a “pageant” venue. But he also knew that their easy-going personalities would translate into pitch-perfect colour commentary that maybe, just maybe, would compensate for the fact that we arrived with little more than our recording equipment and a few questions scribbled on cue cards. We weren’t disappointed.

The dog yard at Uncommon Journeys. Note the yellow cone centre left. That's NOT honey....

One can only assume that it’s the dogs who provide the enforcement....

When we pulled in, Rod and friend Neil Hartling were about to head off on a final sled run with some clients leaving Whitehorse the next day. That left us in the company of Martha and two-and-half year-old daughter Hayley—not to mention a yard full of dogs howling their disappointment about missing the morning's run.

Little did they know that they were marked for bigger things!

It was a bit colder in the Ibex than it had been in Whitehorse, so the juice in the recorder had a limited life outside in the yard. But that was nothing that a few warm-up trips into the ranch house couldn’t solve, and we got some good clips sitting at a giant dining table overlooking the dog yard. The biggest recording challenge, more often than not, was actually Hayley, who was in a pretty chatty mood—especially when the disk was spinning. Two-bite brownies seemed to do the trick until the sugar inevitably kicked in; although we closed the door between our interview space and her play area, the sounds of sheet metal work—or the child’s version of it—still came through loud and clear. She finally found a quieter niche making a salad out of plastic fruit.

In addition to more than 50 dogs, Uncommon Journeys boasts a collection of extremely large Alaskan hamsters.

When Rod returned, we quickly filled him in on the pageant’s progress. We had identified some good candidates, but weren’t sure how to choose among them. In a pair of Hall of Fame-worthy sound bites—not an “um” or “ah” to be heard—Rod not only laid out the general criteria for selection, but made a case for each of the finalists and, in no uncertain terms, declared his clear choice for the winner.

Fortunately, the resident of this dog house was far more pleasant than its alcoholic namesake.

A tasty snack offering for two hungry radio reporters was much appreciated, but ultimately declined.

Unfortunately, technical difficulties are preventing SLY.com from posting audio clips and outtakes from the “Best in Snow” segment just yet, but eventually we’ll figure out a way to stream a lot of good stuff that didn’t make the on-air cut. In the meantime, if you’re really desperate for reading material, you can flip (electronically) through the pages of the various script drafts.

All in all, it was a pretty good effort for a first segment (if you don’t count the series’ unofficial pilot, “Shop Coffee,” which first aired in May 2005.) With two months to go before the segments begin to air bi-weekly, we have lots of time to let our writing, production and editing processes evolve—hopefully in a streamlined fashion. Ideally, we’ll also use this time to build up a healthy reserve of finished segments so we’re not doing a mad scramble in the final days just before a segment airs.

Thanks for listening.

(Posted January 2007)