From 2012 - Yukon Exposure


These pictures, and the post below, are from our trip to the Yukon and part of Alaska in 2012.  Sarai, Darcy, Abina a/k/a Sunny and Leni accompanied us. 























Notes From the Road – Yukon Exposure

 Size Issues.  During our recent road trip to western Canada and eastern Alaska, we went to the Northern Lights Interpretive Centre in Watson Lake, Yukon Territory.  Part of the planetarium presentation was on the northern lights, but part was on the size of the universe.  Using images and metaphors both powerful and silly, the message the presentation conveyed was: space is big.  That’s how we feel about western Canada and Alaska in general:  it’s just really, really big.  We drove more than 6,500 miles in three weeks and saw only a fraction of what’s out there.  Worth it?  Absolutely.

It’s a place of contrasts.  Saskatoon, SK appears to be prospering – lots of construction and road work going on.  Someday we’ll have to return when we have more time.  Throughout BC and the Yukon, we saw much evidence of economic hard times – empty storefronts, property for sale or rent, rundown or vacant houses, towns that appear to have a fraction of their former population. 

Edmonton, AB may be important industrially, but it is not a city I would ever want to live in or even visit for an extended period.  More factories and industrial parks than I’ve ever seen anywhere.  The air smells bad, but you get used to it very quickly. 

History Repeated.  At Ft. Nelson, BC, we had our first history lesson.  At the Heritage Museum we learned about the gargantuan effort it took to build the AlCan Highway in just nine months back in 1942.  It was a war effort, as the US government at that time believed a land attack from Japan through Alaska was a real possibility and needed a way to move men and equipment.  The highway is a marvel to drive, but it came at a huge price: the displacement of entire cultures, the First Nation tribes.  Later, at the George Johnston Museum in Teslin, we heard accounts of people prevented from hunting on the land that had supported their people for generations, forced into boarding schools and deprived of their language, and dying in thousands of diseases they had no ability to fight.  After decades of repression and neglect, the First Nation cultures and languages are now being preserved and the language is once again being taught in the schools.   People who had no access to traditional ceremonies when they were young are being given new names and identities.  Their stories are told through the eyes of a First Nation man who was an accomplished photographer. 

You forget that 100 miles of mountain driving is not like smooth freeway driving.  It takes a lot longer and leaves even the passengers much more tired.  We often did not make our daily mileage quotas, but made steady progress nonetheless. 

Hot Springs and Wild Life.  One recreational stop was Liard River Hot Springs, a BC provincial park.  It is an extremely low-impact facility; there are changing rooms but no water (restrooms are composting).  There are two sections to the spring, in two different temperatures.  It’s like a hot tub; very relaxing, but not something you can tolerate for long.  The spring is set in an old growth area of forest, where the air was fragrant and the water steamed faintly.  I kept imagining something out of “Jurassic Park” would come out of the huge, thick stands of fern.  There are small fish that have adapted to the hot water. 

It would have been nice to doze in the car after the hot spring swim, but between the springs and Whitehorse we saw more wildlife than we’ve ever seen in all our other trips combined.  Black bears, two young grizzlies, countless sheep, a moose cow, and an entire herd of 40-50 bison.  The bears and moose got out of the way quickly, but not the bison, who plodded calmly alongside the road, kicking up a haze of dust along the shoulder.  Large males guarded the herd at the front and the back, occasionally standing right out on the highway.  We were as close to their huge, shaggy heads as the next lane - we could almost feel their hot, huffing breath and look into their eyes.   They are so old; they have been here since before we came and they will be here after we are gone,  and they know it.  Looking in their ancient eyes gave me goosebumps.

We stopped at the Toad River Cave along the way for a snack.  Local lore has it that Toad River is not named after an animal, but named after the fate of many vehicles in the area . . . towed!  It has a famous collection of hats – just any random hat people give them is nailed to the walls or ceiling – thousands of them.  See, everything out here is done in a big way. 

Tales of the Northern Latitudes.  Whitehorse, YT is a pretty town, curving around the river and surrounded by mountains.  We spent two days there.  At the Beringia Interpretive Center we learned of an entire subcontinent that scientists believe used to be in this area, then covered by glaciers that later melted.  Skeletons of prehistoric animals from the period are still being discovered – a mammoth skeleton was found in Kenosha, WI in 1994.  When the glaciers melted, the resulting rivers, we were told, must have been so big there is no contemporary equivalent to describe them.  There’s that word again . . .

Next door, the Yukon Transportation Museum gave yet another view of the gold rush, that of the miners and those who got them to the Yukon and back, usually empty-handed.  But our favorite was the story of a pilot and passenger who survived 49 days after their plane crashed in the Yukon in 1961, on little food and with severe injuries.  Nature is no joke out here, even now, in summer.  There are signs urging drivers to check their fuel supply since towns and gas stations, not to mention stores, are scarce.

Small World.  At the Kwalin Dun Cultural Centre we watched the carving of a totem out back of the building.  The totem will be a memorial to children who were forced into boarding schools in the 40s, 50s and 60s, with tragic consequences.  It is part of a healing project being carried out in partnership with various tribes and funded partly with government arts grants.  While we watched the carving of this huge cedar log, we met two unlikely residents of Whitehorse – Charlie from Jamaica, and his friend, Toussaint, from Senegal.  They had dreadlocks, which immediately gave them a common ground with LCR.  They met Sarai and she spoke to them in French and in Wolof, which Toussaint said he had not heard since leaving his homeland.   

It’s really true that they have long days in summer up there.  I was not expecting it, this far south of the Arctic Circle, but it was light far into the night.  At Whitehorse, it was light as day at 11:30 p.m.  Walking through the campground, I noticed it was awfully quiet – people were in bed or nearly so, despite the light.  We thought it would be difficult to sleep in such light but it’s not.  Your body knows when it needs sleep. 

In the evening we drove outside of town to Miles Canyon.  It was a good place to just hang out in nature, something we’d not had much time for.  There are hiking trails and a suspension bridge, and a small peninsula nearly surrounded by the river. 

Traveling with six people in a trailer designed for four was a challenge.  The younger girls reasonably pointed out that they are no longer little kids and should not always get the least desirable sleeping spots.  They worked out a rotation schedule.  For the most part everyone got along well, in spite of so much togetherness.  For most of the trip it was too cold or buggy to just hang around outside so we were in the trailer in the evenings.  We spent the time with crafts, games, reading, and sharing a laptop when we had internet service. 

The MacBride Museum in Whitehorse seems small at first but there are more buildings out back.  We were filled to the teeth with local history by the time we left – miners, Mounties, local society, First Nation people, animal lore.  It was time to head for Alaska.

Gateway to the Klondike.  We were unprepared for the drive to Whitehorse from Skagway to be so breathtakingly beautiful.  The road threads through snow-capped mountains and then up and up until you are right in the middle of the snow caps.  Ice fields, waterfalls, craggy rocks, mist and fog everywhere; but you cannot stop for photos because it is also peppered with “Avalanche area – do not stop” signs.  I noticed the car got very quiet when we saw those signs. 

Skagway is surrounded by steamy-looking mountains on three sides.  It is very small – pop. less than 100.  The weather is unique.  It mists a lot and while we were there always looked like rain, but when it did finally rain the sun would already be out again and it did not last.  We had been told that Skagway, crowded with tourists, is “all about the shopping.”  Apparently people go there to buy diamonds and other jewelry.  The girls and I went in search of fresh salmon and shrimp, which we found sold from a trailer parked on a deck with tables around it.  It was all guaranteed locally caught and fresh, and though expensive it certainly was delicious.  It was cold but not quite too cold to eat outside.  We had to keep our eyes on the time more than usual, because Alaska has its own time zone.  Even my atomic clock was not set for that many zones so I was constantly subtracting an hour. 

The National Park Service owns many buildings in Skagway and a tour of the park is a walking tour of some of the buildings, dating from the gold rush days.  I had to hand it to our guide for keeping her cool and concentration - there were costumed dance hall girls calling out across the street from a “brothel” that offered tours, while she was trying to give her historical presentation.  Part of the park is in the mountains, with hiking trails and the remains of a village at the trailhead to the gold fields, but we did not see much except a few pieces of wood.  Park Service employees told us it has all gone back to nature.  That was not clear from the brochure.  It’s a rare case of something not being as promised in a national park.  However, on the drive back we saw an eagle and were able to get some photos. 

Passing through Watson Lake the second time, on our way back north, we affixed a sign in the Signpost Forest, started by a homesick worker on the AlCan highway who put up a sign with the name of his hometown, Danville, IL.  There are thousands of signs pilfered and homemade, with names of people and towns from all over the world.  The visitors’ center provides hammer, nails and a ladder if needed.  The visitors’ center gave the count as 71,125.  Now there is one more. 

Another Kind of Wildlife.  On the way to the Salmon Glacier area, we stayed at Bell II, which is really a resort catering to heliskiiers, with a few RV hookups.  We had been warned about the mosquitos in the area, but did not really think about it much – after all, we were from the Midwest; we knew from mosquitos.  We did wonder why the beautiful Jacuzzi at Bell II was deserted, but we soon found out.  BC mosquitos are large, fast and persistent.  When they started coming into the trailer, it felt like a siege.  The girls ran around plugging cracks with paper towels and duct-taping the openings around vents, but still they came in.  I caught one squeezing through a crack – never knew mosquitos did that.  When we pulled back the curtains we could see them on the window on the outside by the dozens, and we could hear them on the vent screens.  Did I mention they are also noisy?  Eventually we did get some sleep but in the morning they started coming in again.  Defeated, we unhooked and left without breakfast or even rudimentary hygiene.  Only something this serious could get us going at 7:15 a.m.!

We drove to Stewart, BC, and the woman at the visitors’ centre graciously allowed us use of the restrooms for grooming, saying she had worked at Bell II and was aware of the mosquitos.  This area, she explained, had gotten a lot of rain recently, unlike the rest of western Canada which is in a drought.  We said what we really needed was breakfast.  She directed us to the Glacier Inn in Hyder, AK.

When you cross the border into Alaska at Hyder, the pavement drops off all at once, and from then on it was mostly unpaved roads for the rest of the day.  Hyder was disparagingly referred to by one Canadian we met as “a draft-dodger town” from the Vietnam war days, being on the border in thickly wooded mountainous country, but today it is almost a ghost town.  However, the Glacier Inn was open and served us eggs, fresh-baked bread, oatmeal and fresh fruit, so good it almost made up for having to flee for our lives.  The Inn has dollar bills plastered all over the walls and pillars and supplemental boards.  People write their names and the date and a message.  Sort of like the Signpost Forest, only with money, American and Canadian bills, going back for years, thousands of them . . . and now, one more.

Glaciers and the Bear Man.  We had left the trailer in Stewart on the advice of the visitors’ center guide, and it turned out to be a good decision.  The road to the Salmon Glacier was some of the most bone-jarring we’ve driven – washboarding, potholes, no pavement for miles.  After jouncing and jerking for some time, we found a truck that seemed to know the way, hanging slightly to the left to avoid the worst of the potholes, and followed it.  It turned out to be involved in the road construction and we nearly followed it into a “no public access” area.  However, the reward at the end was incredible views of live glaciers, the Salmon and the smaller Bear, seen from above.  The ice appears blue in places and there are small caves, where water flows out from underneath, at the “toe,” the area of a glacier that reaches toward the river.  Though scientists believe the glaciers have been shrinking for the past 15,000 years, they still look huge, majestic, unstoppable. 

Far up the mountain, there is a rest stop and a man who lives there all summer – Keith Scott, a retired teacher of nature and ecology, who calls himself the Bear Man.  He sells his own photos, DVDs and books about the glaciers and the bears in the area.  He has an SUV, a bike, and a tent.  I did not see a fire but I did see an old car bucket seat positioned to look out over the mountain, out of the worst of the wind at the back of the outhouse.   When asked how he survives out there, even in summer, he assured us the cold is not a problem, as the temperature rarely drops below freezing (!).  He advised us to go a bit farther, past a “Road Closed” sign, to get out of the fog and get a better view of the glacier from above.  Truly, that was the only time we disobeyed a sign.  The fog was indeed lessened past the sign but we thought the view was not as spectacular as what we’d already seen farther down the mountain.  On our way down, we found that being on the returning side of the road now made us experts, and we fielded questions about the road and whether it was worth the trouble. 

Spending the night in Kitswanga, we were given pins and tiny Canadian flags, because the following day was Dominion Day.  A First Nation man at our campground explained that native tribes celebrate the day, also called Aboriginal Day, along with white Canadians, because we are all brother nations. 

For some reason we did not see any Dominion Day celebrations.  The small towns we passed seemed almost vacant – perhaps the inhabitants were at larger towns.  However, we did see quite a few native totems in several sites in the area.  We also visited a recreated village called ‘Ksan.  There are various buildings with artifacts, some genuine and some newly created, placed as they might have been when indigenous tribes lived here.  The park is tightly controlled: no photos allowed in the buildings, but the guides are knowledgeable and audio-visual presentations are used inside the buildings in lieu of written descriptions.  We bought souvenirs at the gift shop which had many native and locally made items as well as the ubiquitous t-shirts.

The night before we saw Mt. Robson, we were once again bothered by monster mosquitos and left early.   We stopped there for breakfast and noticed that this area, which heads south through Jasper and Banff National Parks, is a magnet for a variety of races, age groups, and types of people, dressed in everything from biker leather to Amish suspenders, with many accents and languages  - a true United Nations.   The mountain itself was shrouded in fog.

Chasing Waterfalls.  We had intended to drive south through the Jasper/Banff area in a few hours, but we had no idea what we were in for.  The two parks are some of the most wonderful mountains we have ever seen, beautiful views around every bend, waterfalls, and glaciers.  Instead of driving through we had to pull over constantly to walk out for a better view and a photo.  One of the most spectacular waterfalls was not even marked and did not seem to be on the map.  We rounded a bend and at first thought there had been an accident, there were so many cars pulled over haphazardly and people standing around, almost in the road.  We got quite muddy because it was rainy that day.  Yet another fact we did not know - part of the drive is a temperate rain forest, rare for that latitude. 

We hiked out to the Athabasca glacier,6,500 feet up.  You could really feel the altitude.  Some people were prepared with parkas and hoods, but we also saw shorts and flip-flops.  It always amazed me that the air temperature never seemed to drop below 40 F even when there was ice and snow.  At the glacier, there were warning signs forbidding walking out on the ice.  Apparently, the ice can look solid but open into deep crevasses without warning, and the last few rescues were unsuccessful, with the victims dying of hypothermia before they could be pulled out.   We did see a party far out on the glacier and could only assume they had some kind of special permit. 

Eventually we decided to stop looking and keep driving.  We decided this several times.  By the end of the day, we were wet, dirty, stiff and sore, but it was one of the best days of the trip.

Besides the usual wildlife warnings (eventually just “Watch for wildlife on highway,” with no reference to species), there were several viaducts on Canada Hwy 16, which we learned were land bridges for the animals.  Deer, bison and other animals can migrate freely without crossing traffic.  Infrared cameras prove they are indeed used.  They are beautifully landscaped with grass and small trees, and barely visible fences.

Windy City.  We were now on the edge of the Rockies, and stopped at a town with several campgrounds.  Fearful again of mosquitos, we chose the most open.  It was almost vacant.  It was also the windiest spot we’ve ever camped in.  The howl was unbelievable, the trailer shook, you had to hang onto your stuff if you went outside.  A trip to the bathroom felt like an endurance trek.  LCR needed to fill the trailer water tank, and the wind was so raw that he actually waited inside the car with the hose hooked up.  There were no bugs so the girls were happy.  Well, of course; the cracks the bugs had come through the previous night were now conduits for the roaring wind.  I had visions of the trailer rolling over and over, or split by a piece of some roof or other driven by the wind, or a window popping out with no way to patch the hole.  The wind was somewhat lessened by morning.  We learned in the next town, Swift Current, that Saskatchewan is known for its wind and that its inhabitants claim the wind pushes weather fronts through so fast, they may have to use their heat and AC in the same day.  We bought an electric mosquito zapper, having seen one used by a campground owner a few towns back – looks like a small badminton racket - but wouldn’t you know, that night we had barely enough mosquitos to ascertain that the thing does work.  The quiet that night was wonderful - no insects, little wind.

One thing we had not yet done on this trip was visit an art museum, so in Moose Jaw, we went to the local history and art museum.  Though very small, the museum has some interesting local art and history, including a surprisingly long and vibrant history of Chinese immigration.  One thing that they apparently do not know is the origin of the name Moose Jaw. 

Past Moose Jaw, we stayed at a campground that definitely got the prize for the darkest.  A small boy came by our campsite lost and crying.  Hoping LCR could get hooked up before nightfall, I took him back to the office to figure out where he was supposed to be, and eventually back to his family’s trailer.  I just barely made it back to the trailer before dark.  Thinking I would empty some recycling and use the bathroom, I went outside, but it was so completely dark I could barely find the car – even though it was still hooked to the trailer.  I could also hear animals rustling in the underbrush.  Though I thought it was probably only a raccoon or fox, I stayed in the trailer. 

It was time to move on and get back to the States.  We had to give Winnipeg a pass; it will be there another time.  In MN we stayed with the Petries, as we had on the way out.  It was so great to see them twice on this trip.  Abina stayed with Caylah as she had on the way out.  June and I had an impromptu knitting clinic, and we saw a bit of the Tour de France, feeling like we were getting reconnected to our homeland and the rest of the world in general.  It was 88 in MN, much warmer than we’d been for weeks but apparently not as warm as it was in MN, WI and IL while we were gone.

Gas prices: not good anywhere; $3.42 in Madison; higher everywhere else.  Gas is sold by the liter in Canada and some places offer only full service.  The multiplier is 3.78 liters per gallon.  The monetary exchange rate was nearly even.

Signage.

Canadians appear to love acronyms as much as Americans:

R.A.P.P.  (Report All Poachers and Polluters)

This Area Patrolled by COPS (Citizens on Patrol)

Sign in bar window:  Free beer tomorrow.

Road sign:  “Distracted driving law in effect.”

Posted at the entrance to Liard River Hot Springs:  “The BC government is conducting a Bear Encounter Avoidance Project.  You may occasionally hear loud noisemakers.”

On Canada Hwy 16:  “Speed limit not to exceed 50 kmh when children on highway.”

And the winner, as the sign most likely to make everyone wake up and take notice, posted on the road between Vanderhoof and McBride:  “High Moose Collision Area.”

 

- Lu & Co.

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