Up Here Magazine

Photographers shout “Look over here!” “Turn around!” and “Just one more shot!” at politicians boarding a tiny white plane in Iqaluit in February 2025. The passengers, led by Northern Affairs Minister Gary Anandasangaree, are about to do a flyover of the site of a proposed hydroelectric plant on the Kuugaaluk River. “It’s going to be a big reservoir,” Anandasangaree says as the plane touches down again. “It was great to see this.” Actually, he hadn’t seen much.

Even after many summers on the Arctic tundra, I simply cannot wait for the last half of June. The sun seems to circle in the sky, birdsong echoes all about and the land is full of promise as plants green up with great enthusiasm, bursting into a rainbow brought to Earth. An early-summer walk on the tundra or in the treeline seems psychedelic. You wade through colour, surrounded by an incredible carpet of tiny plants, all blooming madly in the long days of the midnight sun.

A two-week in, two-week out fl y-in shift for Northerners usually means 14 days of long hours drilling, hauling or cleaning, followed by two weeks of relaxation, where you can get out on the water and maybe cast some lines. Imagine if your two weeks in consisted of being out on the land doing what you love, and what very few southerners are more capable of doing than you. For one thing, we’d probably have a lot more local employment.

I’m a needy guest. Qikiqtarjuaq is a community of roughly 500 people living 100 kilometres above the Arctic Circle on Broughton Island and I’m here for a week writing about the November 2025 Nunavut territorial election. Like most reporters, I’m a nuisance with my endless questions. “How do you feel?” “What’s the biggest issue for you in this election?” And, of course: “Can I take a picture of you?” The answer is almost always no. But that’s not even my most annoying request.

After eight months of cold, darkness, snow and ice, Northerners are energetically enjoying summer, as only Northerners can By Up Here Illustration by John Allerston July 16th, 2026 July 16th, 2026 ✓ Easy ✓ In a canoe ✓ Fun (in the midnight sun) ✓ Bug and bear infested ✓ All of the above By Aaron Spitzer Illustrations by Monika Melnychuk July 16th, 2026 July 16th, 2026

Scuba Dive The Arctic is not your regular scuba diver’s hotspot. But if you’re feeling brave enough, bring your flippers next time you’re up in Qikiqtarjuaq. Just above the Arctic Circle, Nunavut’s iceberg capital is also an unofficial capital for clamping your jaw and jumping into icy waters. But hire a local outfitter who will make sure you find a good spot to explore the seabed or even try your hand at digging northern clams. Be quick, though.

I WANT TO TELL the owner of the RV lot to stop congratulating me. I’m sure campers are an exciting purchase for customers who buy them to go camping. For me, its purpose is less thrilling: evacuating Whitehorse if a wildfire grows out of control. My partner, Chris, and I already have a recreational camper, a squat little thing from the 1960s with a bed, a kitchen counter and a checkerboard’s worth of standing space.

While walking in Iqaluit one evening, photographer Angela Gzowski spotted this set-up for drying fish. Was it ingenious? she wondered. After all, this method meant maximum sunlight and fewer bugs. But was it also a risky invitation to birds to steal an easy-to-get nosh? What do you think?

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If you don’t know their names yet, it’s time to learn. Here are the stories of seven young aboriginal Northerners who are rising high, transforming the territories with their passion for art, athletics, activism and more. So buckle up and prepare for takeoff.