Amber Aglukark grips the paddle of a handcrafted Greenlandic-style kayak, slicing through the icy waters of Nunavut's Qikiqtaaluk region. The bay is quiet, save for the crunch of ice drifting with the tide. Iqaluit, where she lives, has long disappeared from sight, but here, Amber feels right at home, a balance of exhilaration and peace. "I couldn't be more grateful for the opportunity," she says.
Amber's connection to the North runs deep. Although she didn't fully explore her Inuit heritage until adulthood, the seeds of resilience were planted early. Her grandmother's escape from a residential school builds the foundation of Amber's strength.
- Amber paddling serene waters in the Women's Destiny Foam Vest & newly redesigned Helix drysuit
"My grandmother escaped at a young age," says Amber.
This fortitude, passed through generations, fuels her mission to protect and revitalize Inuit culture, most tangibly through her work with sled dogs.
"I am very thankful for the opportunity to grow up in such a strong household without even knowing what had happened," she says. "So, having learned the history of our people, I had a lot more appreciation for how my mom raised me. It gave me a lot of gratitude for the resilience and dedication that she put into my upbringing."
Understanding her family's history drives Amber's desire to contribute to the path forward for future generations. Amber's great-grandfather was Danish explorer Peter Freuchen who travelled with Knud Rasmussen on the Thule expeditions, a series of polar explorations in the early 20th century. Travelling more than 18,000 miles by dog sled and foot, they came from Greenland through the Northwest Passage and down into what is now known as the Kivalliq region, where Amber's family is from. Peter's son Ollie Ittinuar, Amber's grandfather, and her father were also dog teamers.
- Amber preparing her dog team in the Torrens Hooded Thermal Jacket
During the 1950s and 1960s, the Canadian government slaughtered thousands of Inuit Sled Dogs. The population that existed prior to this time is estimated to have been in the tens of thousands, and by 1963, the breed was declared extinct. However, since the 1970s, organizations like the Eskimo Dog Research Foundation (EDRF) have worked to increase the number of the breed.
Amber, who is a city councilor with the City of Iqaluit, a policy analyst for the Department of Education, and the president of the Qulliit Nunavut Status of Women Council, is also the president of Iqaluit Qimussiqtiit Katimajingit, the Iqaluit dog team society. Since the dog slaughter, not many communities have dog teams and organizations like this are working hard to continue the revitalization of this resilient breed and the culture intertwined with it.
For Amber, dog sledding is more than a tradition—it's a lifeline. Introduced to the dog team eight years ago, Amber became the first woman in her lineage to take on this role. "It became a really big healing journey for me," she says, reflecting on the emotional and mental strength the dogs helped her build.
Through her leadership in the Qimussiqtiit Katimajingit, she's learned to advocate for the future of these powerful animals. This ability to speak up didn't just apply to the sled dogs; it translated into her work as a member of the Qulliit Nunavut Status of Women Council appointed by the Minister of Family Services. Here, Amber helps other women find their own voices. The nine-person council develops public awareness of issues affecting the status of women, promotes a change in attitudes within the community, and encourages discussion and expression of opinion on issues affecting the status of women.
She also brings her innate strength and wisdom to her position as a Policy Analyst for the Department of Education where part of her role is reviving the Inuktut language. Unfortunately, it was not taught in school and was slowly eradicated in many homes and communities.
She also brings her experience, knowledge, and passion to her role as city councilor with the City of Iqaluit, where she can impact change on another level.
Through dog teaming, Amber discovered her voice—strong, confident, and full of purpose when mushing, it is her survival. Despite taking on so many incredible roles as a result, she always returns to her first passion, the dogs.
Each sled trip begins with harnessing the dogs in a specific order. Amber anchors the qamutiik to prevent them from running off prematurely.
"As soon as I see that I have only two more dogs to harness, my heart starts to race," she says.
After securing the last dog, she swirls her sealskin whip to signal control, then walks back to the qamutiik.
"As soon as you walk away, when they feel you jump on the qamutiik and my knee touches the ground, the dogs are ready to go."
At Amber's command, the team surges forward, reaching speeds of 50-60 km/h for the first few minutes. As the dogs settle into their steady pace, Amber feels the rush of wind in her hair and the joy in her heart. Each run is more than just a ride—it's a testament to her ancestors, her heritage, and her resilience.
"All that hard work pays off," she says.
It's not just survival—it's thriving for herself, her community, her family and the generations yet to come.
MEET THE NEXT GEN HELIX DRYSUIT
Author: Danielle Baker