On the morning of our departure from Whitehorse, we woke up to a cloudless blue sky and a warm summery feel in the air. The two days prior had been rainy, cold, and more reminiscent of fall than what people living south of the 60th parallel would expect for mid August. So, while the days were already getting shorter, this sunny day was a pleasant surprise.
As we shlept our gear into the car I was taken aback by how much of it there was in comparison to our hiking backpacks. We had two large personal drybags, two dayuse 20L drybags, one bag for Heather's camera gear, a large blue bear barrel full meals recycled from our hiking section, and one large purple drybag with our tent and other miscellaneous items. Loaded it into the canoe however, all our stuff barely took up half the boat. Jasper, the lucky dog, got to sprawl in the other half. Despite having so much space specifically for him, he often prefered to be anywhere else:
Jasper’s various canoe positions
My family came to Rotary Park (downtown Whitehorse) to send us off. My 4-year-old niece Olivia pushed our canoe away from shore, determinedly marching into the river up to her thighs before she was satisfied that our boat would travel out into the river.
A send-off from Olivia
The section on the Yukon river between town and lake Laberge was swift and pleasant. Eagles and ravens soared in the updrafts along the clay cliff riverbanks, the water was high and clear and by 2pm we were at the mouth of the lake. Lake Laberge is know for two things. The first, it is where Sam McGee was cremated in the famous poem by Robert W. Service.
“There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee (…)”
Secondly, it is known for the waves that can pick up out of nowhere and swamp a canoe without warning (although I suspect any large lake might be known for the same bahaviour). I have avoided paddling accross lake Laberge for years, in part because of its unpredictability but mostly because I don't like paddling on lakes. Without a current to aid you, paddling on lakes feels mind numbingly slow. I remember my roommate from Ontario telling me she likes portaging. For years I couldn't grasp why someone would enjoy having to cary their canoe and all its contents over land. Now I understand, portaging is a welcome interuption from the monotony of Lake paddling.
A calm pocket of water on Lake Laberge
Despite my assumptions about what paddling accross Laberge would be like, I actually enjoyed most of the two day journey. Our first day on the lake, the water was a mirror reflection of bright blue interrupted by floofy white clouds. On our second day we had a tail wind. For the most part the waves were small enough that we stayed on the water and let the wind help us along. Around noon the intensity built and the tips of the waves frothed white. Quicky we pulled into a quiet bay and opted for a long lunch. We ate, did some fishing, read and slept as we waited the few hours it took for things to calm back down.
We found a perfect little campsite just past the mouth of the river that night. I fell asleep excited for the swift current that would carying us along for the rest of the trip.
Camp on the Yukon River, past lake Laberge
The river was high and as we paddled there was neither a beach nor gravel bar in sight. We ended up using the somewhat outdated river map I had brought to find places along the shore suitable to pull over. Sometimes the spots marked on the map were great camps… other times the indicated area had been flooded or overrun by thick willows overhanging the water. One day, after a long and increasingly desperate search for a place to relieve myself, I pulled over to a low angled clay bank. Hoping out, I sank up to the rim of my rubber boots in mud. Jasper also hoped out and then hoped right back in making a muddy mess of our canoe.
When the Yukon met the Teslin the volume doubled and the silt carried in by the milky grey river sang along the bottom of our boat. Not long after, we passed the wreck of the ship "Evelyn", evedence of when paddlewheelers were used as the main form of transportation through the heart of the territory in the early to mid 1900s. We also passed much older Indigenous fishing camps and villages like Hootalinqua, Little Salmon Village and Big Salmon Village.
An old building at the location of
Little Salmon Village
We saw a few other paddlers on the river but only shared a campground once. Our companions were two friends from Germany who were paddling from Whitehorse to Carmacks. "Where are all the animals" they asked " we haven't seen any, hardly even squirrels" They are here" I shrugged " We have seen two moose and a bear. You don't always see them though, particularly if you aren't on the water in the mornings or evenings. There is also just so much space for them to be and even a few feet of forest will hide them." I hope those two got lucky and met an animal or two on their last few days on the river, that is aside from the plentiful and ravinous mosquitoes.
Photo courtesy of our German camp friends…
Bug nets came off only for these 5 seconds.
“Amaya! Heather!”
My head snapped around to see a figure clambering out of the bush onto a precarious driftwood pile on the river-bank.
After Amaya and I bid goodbye to our German friends, Klaus and Arnaud (sp?), we paddled towards Carmacks and had a surprise visit from Amaya’s mum (who was driving by on her way to some fieldwork and saw us coming down-river). A wonderful and brief visit, we all exchanged a few quick hugs before Jay carried on to work and we floated a few hundred meters downstream to the river-side burger joint.
A brief visit with Amaya’s mum, Jay
Catering to paddlers, it was the perfect place to fill our bellies with yummy fries and cold drinks while we did a brief internet/phone catch-up with the wider world.
Our singular “spicy” section of river followed Carmacks… though both Amaya and I were surprised by just how relaxed the Five-finger rapids felt; essentially a single wave train. The rock formations there, however, were beautiful. The landscape even more intriguing when we considered that there used to be more channels before they were widened and cleared for steamers to pass through.
More wildlife sightings for us over the next few days included a few bears, another moose, and some frolicking and extremely adorable river otters.
We put in a number of longer days between Carmacks and Dawson City. The hours on end of paddling were beautiful. When our minds required distraction we listened to our audiobook series, on the sixth book at this point in the trip! Our evenings were filled with good food, and tent snuggles with Jasper.
Sleepy snuggles with Jasper
One of days also involved a stop at Fort Selkirk! We munched on a delicious lunch then wandered through the old trading post. They have done a great job preserving buildings and creating engaging interpretive signs throughout the old townsite. We also found lots of raspberries growing throughout the town and nibbled a bit as we walked.
Amaya walking through Fort Selkirk
Our second last full day on the river we passed the confluence of the White River and the Yukon River. We stopped for a short, steep hike up a bluff opposite the confluence and admired the contrast created by the aptly named White River’s current swirling to join our waterway.
Looking out at the White-Yukon confluence
The unfortunate side effect of the heavily silted water was that it was incredibly hard on our water filter… necessitating frequent back-flushing to restore any flow through the filter. Luckily we didn’t have much further to go so it was a temporary inconvenience!
Our last morning on the river gifted us with an unexpected visit from a bear! The creature had swum across to our gravel bar island and emerged from the water just as I was about to head for my morning bathroom session amongst the willows. Needless to say, that endeavour was delayed until our visitor moved off!! The bear was, however, a neat way to say goodbye to our river camps as we headed into the last 20km of paddling to Dawson City.
We arrived in Dawson city, trip complete!
Amaya even made some Y2Y “medals” for us!
Oh Dawson City…
I sort of fell in love with the quirky town; a fabulous mix of people, all wonderful characters.
We happened to arrive the day of the Annual Outhouse race, and got to watch, giggling away with the rest of the crowd, as two teams raced around the block. With their outhouse carriages, fabulous outfits, and efforts to complete ridiculous challenges after each lap, it was quite the event. The “mothers run this shit-show” team emerged victorious!
Outhouse race start-line
We showered, met up with Amaya’s mum, stashed our canoe on the west Dawson City side of the river (planning ahead for later shenanigans), took the ferry across the river, set up camp, then headed to dinner with one of Jay’s friends.
A tour of the most magnificent garden and a delicious dinner later we made a mad dash back to the ferry, just making the 10pm ferry back across to west Dawson City…
I told you we had shenanigans planned! Turns out we missed the window for the infamous Sour-Toe cocktail (a reason to return to Dawson City in the future I guess!).
No matter! We headed to The Pit and danced our little hearts out to a David Bowie tribute band until the wee hours of the morning. We received the highest possible compliments from numerous other patrons..
“You two had the BEST dance energy out there! Made me want to dance!”
Laughing and dancing the night away!
We capped off our night with a 3am paddle back across the Yukon river to our campsite on the other side. I have to say… a nighttime paddle by starlight is my new favourite way to end a night out on the town!
Packing up the following morning, and in the following days, Amaya and I both had multiple moments of disbelief, we were done!
This adventure, two years in the making, had not once gone according to plan. We quite literally changed almost everything on the fly. And though we didn’t complete the trip we expected, ~3000km later we nevertheless accomplished something we are both extraordinarily proud of!
And, as we left Dawson City, and as I said a hard goodbye to Amaya and the Yukon a few days later, I couldn’t help but grin… we have so many more adventures to come! I cannot wait to see what we dream up next!
Y2Y, you have been eye-opening, simultaneously heart-rending and heart-warming experience, and have given us a gift of ever deeper friendship! We hold nothing but gratitude.
Much love, Heather & Amaya
コメント