Have you ever heard of the cloudberry effect?
Nope? Well, there’s a good reason for that. It’s because I just made it up!
What it means is that it’s not always the big, monumental events that impact you the most.
The cloudberry effect is how I remember the incredible 850-km journey of dirt, mud, and gravel up the Dempster Highway to the Arctic Ocean.
The journey featured a ride through the spectacular Tombstone mountains, a wild campsite beside a glacier-fed river, and the experience of dipping our feet – and paws – into the Arctic Ocean.
And yet, it’s picking the cloudberries that grow in the tundra along the side of the highway that I remember most vividly, and which puts the glowing smile on my face.
As we stood outside the community garden in Inuvik, readying ourselves for the final 150-km stretch to the ocean, a warm, friendly Inuit woman approached us.
“Are you headed up to Tuk?” she asked, admiring Moxie and the Cockpit that carried her on the back of my motorcycle.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Don’t forget to pick cloudberries along the way,” she said.
She explained that they are a citrusy, raspberry-like fruit native to the Arctic and she showed us a photo of a small, plump, orange berry.
A few hours later, Greg shouted over the intercom, “I think I see them!”
We pulled over, dismounted, and traipsed through the tundra. Spread before us, we discovered a wide field of wild flowers.
Their petals open and upturned, each contain a juicy, amber pearl.
We stooped, plucked, and filled our cheeks and tin mugs.
