Goodbye Under A Blue Sky

Fifty-six years after the first Arctic Winter Games, the 2026 edition ended today with a party on Whitehorse’s main street.

Before the Closing Ceremony began, people milled about wearing the bright colours of seven contingents – Sapmi, Kalaallit Nunaat, Nunavut, Nunavik-Quebec, Northwest Territories, Alberta North, Yukon, and Alaska. After a frigid morning, the temperature was a balmy -15°C in the sun. Athletes traded uniforms, snacked on jerky, listened to the music from the mainstage. One kid sat high on a parent’s shoulders, holding tight to a mini Michael Jay the Fox. Circus performers danced to the music, and at least one team formed a conga line to make their way together through the crowd. Beyond the uniforms, there were seal mitts, beaded fur gauntlets, and the prettiest parkas you’ve ever seen. Then the music quieted and Canada’s first Inuk Governor-General, Her Excellency the Right Honourable Mary Simon, stepped to the mic to greet the guests in Inuktitut.

The past week has taught me a lot about the place I live. I signed up to help out my friends and community, and (being brutally honest here) because I coveted that sweet volunteer jacket. I’d never volunteered for a sports event before, or seen the Arctic Winter Games. After a long week, I know I’ve been changed, because it’s not about the jacket anymore – it’s about the pins too!

Jokes aside, this week has been full of too many memories to count. Snowshoers in mukluks and traditional snowshoes, exploding off the line and shuffling round the bend of the Mt. McIntyre trails. Cross-country skiers whizzing down the final hill to the bell clanging, spectators rushing across to the finish line to cheer them on. Speed skaters crouching for the starting gun and rounding the first corner in a blaze of colour, to a chorus of shouts from the packed stands. The hollering of hockey fans echoing through (and beyond) the CGC and Takhini Arena. The interweaving circles of the cultural gala finale. The mind-blowing athleticism of Arctic Sports, the slow build of the clapping beat as the crowd applauded a final effort, the eruption of cheering when a foot connected with a ball, a kneel jump landed, another record broke.

The Closing Ceremony was a memorable riot of music, flags, and uniforms, but it was a scene I saw on the way to Main Street that will stay with me. By the side of Second Avenue, a group of young athletes waited at a bus stop. I spotted the blue bobble hat of Team Alberta North, the red and black Yukon jackets, the green Nunavik parkas, and the aurora-in-the-night-sky Northwest Territories kit. The athletes weren’t standing apart in separate teams. Instead, they laughed and jostled as they waited for the bus in the blue sunshine.

Living in the north can feel cold and dark sometimes – especially after the long, grey, snowy winter that the Yukon just had. But seeing athletes, cultural ambassadors, volunteers, officials and coaches from around the circumpolar region come together was a much-needed reminder. The north isn’t a slogan or an op-ed or a stereotype – it’s stitched together by the people and communities who call it home.

Every late night and early morning in the gym, at the rink, on the range; every volunteer who sets a ski track or coaches a sport; every parent who makes sure their kid gets to practice, and their team-mates too; everyone who directed traffic, or cooked food, or drove hockey bags around all week. Everything leads to this, and it’s worth it.

By Julia Duchesne