North to the Yukon - Fort Nelson to Paradise

 

We darted north from the farm on Thursday morning and made it to Fort Nelson by mid-afternoon. Even though it was a short stretch, we were tired.  The motel room, economy by any measure, offered the basics and that’s about it. It was the first hotel stay in my lifetime where they didn’t even have plastic cups for water - forget about coffee service. But we slept; that was the main thing.

We found ourselves wide awake by 4:30 am the next morning.

“I have no reservations about leaving now, if you’re up for it,” I declared.

We jumped to it, loaded the car and made our way a few blocks east to the Tim Horton’s which was miraculously open at 4:45 am. Starting that epic driving day might have been perilous without an injection of coffee. 

The Alaska Highway is an epic stretch of road which was built during the Second World War as a response to Japanese aggression. The United States needed a way to move material north and building what began as a rudimentary highway was the answer. It was made in less than a year. 

Admittedly, I had fears that it would be a tough road with potholes, bumps and summer construction. None of those worries came to fruition. The road itself is fantastic with stunning views and plenty of places to pull off and run the dogs. Coco and Shay tended to get squirrelly every hour-and-a-half or so. We pulled over in spots where they could safely run and we could find some privacy to have a pee.

One of the highlights of the drive was the wildlife. Having set out so early we saw wild bison, moose, and caribou in the first several hours.

Apart from a single black bear that I saw for a split second, the rest of the day passed by with no sightings.

We stopped at Watson Lake, a small village just inside the Yukon border, known globally for its sign forest. Way back during WWII an American GI was feeling homesick. So, he posted a sign of his hometown with the number of miles to get there.

That started a trend that has resulted in thousands and thousands of signs being share from all over the world. It’s truly an incredible spectacle.

“You could spend hours looking through here and still not see everything,” observed a motorcyclist travelling with his son from Hawaii.

The leg from Watson Lake to Whitehorse was shorter - about four hours - but felt longer as we were all getting tired. We passed through many small settlements, most with promises of services that had long been shuttered. There was an underpinning of darkness in many of these places. According to an article I read online, the oil crash of 2014 combined with no access to Asian markets devastated this part of the world. Apart from Fort St. John in the south and Whitehorse in the north, there appears to be a pall of hardship in between.

Heather grabbed supplies at the Save-On Foods in Whitehorse before we made our way south to the Wheaton River Cabin. The road got narrower and narrower the further along we went. By the time we pulled up to our host’s cabin, there was only room for one vehicle to pass.

Carmen walked with Heather and the dogs through the forest while I drove the car to our big cabin.

With two bedrooms, full kitchen (minus power or running water), pit toilet and outdoor shower, it’s a perfect retreat to settle back into ourselves.

Perhaps, for Heather, it is a return to summer life on the remote island cabin that they had back in the 1980s and 90s. For both of us, it is a chance to disconnect from the world and connect with each other.