Yukon Trip Report
Fourteen days, 700 km, one river, one small town, wilderness, animals and a vast landscape in the northern regions of Canada.
As part of a year's leave from our jobs in New Zealand, my partner and I spent two months canoeing and walking in this remote and spectacular part of the world.
We based ourselves in Whitehorse, two days by bus, or three hours flight, north of Vancouver. (There is also a flight from Frankfurt, Germany). This small but active town on the banks of the upper Yukon River is the service centre of the north.
Wilderness outfitters supply all the specialist gear you need. You can hire the essentials: canoe, paddles, lifejackets, barrels and dry bags plus the full camping kit if required. With no designated campgrounds it is wilderness camping all the way, including managing your gear so as not to invite a bear into camp!
I sit on the side of the river surrounded by 14 days of food and gear wondering what to pack first. The cool temperatures of the late season paddle means the food will last well. Organic expedition bread from the famous local Alpine Bakery will still taste great 10 days into the trip. Apart from the cool temperatures and regular rainfall early morning the big advantage of doing the trip in late August is the lack of bugs. During the high season of June and July, bug face-shields are an extra necessity.
Finally, after a mammoth packing effort, we push off in our yellow (submarine) canoe, the water clear and cool. We have purchased a guidebook for the river, detailing every kilometre with a scaled map and a corresponding running commentary of the European history of the river. The Yukon flows all the way across Alaska to its delta in the Bering Sea. The river was used by paddle wheelers to access the interior north of Canada during the gold rushes. The alternative access was to get off a boat in Skagway, Alaska and walk over White Pass into the headwaters of the Yukon. Many men and women perished in their quest for gold, others arrived to find the rivers staked out and returned home empty handed as far away as California.
It was a leisurely 30 km afternoon paddle to the head of Lake Laberge. We got off the water at 1930, the sun still high in the sky. We had a gourmet meal with so much to choose from. Woke the next morning to overcast weather and rain imminent. In front of us 60 km of lake paddling. We pulled into a bay that evening as the head wind grew in strength. The next morning was too windy to contemplate making progress so we went for a walk to a sheltered bay nearby. the wind eased in the early afternoon and we pushed on but were later reminded of the harsh environment we were in when the wind changed direction 180º in a matter of minutes, forcing us ashore. While searching for a campsite I found trees felled not by the work of humans, but by beavers. Further exploration found their magnificent constructions: several two metre high dams.
Leaving the lake we entered the faster flowing 30 mile (50 km) World Heritage River section of the river steeped, in history. Remains of paddle wheelers buried in the river gravel and rusting steel parts strewn downstream litter this section of river. An abandoned Police Station and derelict truck that was driven across the frozen lake during the eight month winter freeze mark another site. Further down we spot what we think is a building 50 metres back from the bank. Closer inspection reveals the distinctive flat hulled boat that used to ply these waters. It was pulled out for the winter by horses and turnstiles to avoid being crushed by ice and never floated again.
The remoteness of this trip means wildlife is aplenty. It is a daily ritual upon finding a camp spot, to designate tent, cooking and food sites for the night. Food storage is important, with the ever present possibility of a bear in camp overnight. Ensuring the food barrel is well back from the river, tied to a tree and that any excess food is hung from a high branch reduces the risk of an encounter.
Floating down the river one afternoon we see moose and calf on the riverbank. They slink down in the water to try and hide. As we get closer they start swimming and cross the Yukon just in front of us. The last bald eagles of the season watch over the river for any late salmon that are returning to their spawning grounds.
Many old hut relics remain along the riverbanks, especially at the tributary river mouths. From here tracks can be found radiating out into the bush. They were used to bring wood to the riverbank to fuel the paddle wheelers. During the winter woodsmen would stockpile 300 400 cord (12m, by 1m, by 0.3m). This has left large areas of forest clear felled now regenerating.
After seven days on the river, the first signs of civilisation in the form of a road are seen. Soon we are paddling through a small settlement. Carmacks is the one place on the river that there is an opportunity to restock supplies.
Day eight brings the infamous rapids Five Finger and The Rink. We get out above Five Finger to have a look. A large tangled wire rope is a sign that boats used to winch their way up the rapid by wrapping the cable around a steam driven capstan. We take the far right channel as directed, bouncing over a few standing waves and taking a bit of water in the boat. Rink Rapid has a channel on the river right that avoids the rapid. This same channel was used by the paddle wheelers when negotiating this part of the river.
As the days and the countryside pass by we settle into a routine. The river continues to grow in size from tributaries such as the Teslin, Big & Little Salmon and White Rivers. Navigation becomes a challenge as islands become bigger and longer the river is up to two kilometres wide in places. The silt load is increasing, the White River aptly named. Drinking water is settled in the bailing bucket overnight and the clear water decanted for drinking in the morning. At Fort Selkirk a group of First Nations people are living under nylon and rebuilding a community that once existed.
We awake on the fourteenth day with a weird feeling of civilisation looming. We pack up, the last thing we do is pour a cup of tea and a bit of hot water on our cereal breakfast. We push off and just float for the first hour, watching the scenery go by, sipping hot drinks, eating breakfast and reflecting on the last 14 days.
Dawson City is a community of 1 500 2 000 people divided by a river. No bridges here there 's a 24 hour ferry during the summer and a drive across the frozen river in winter. This leaves about two months of freeze and two months of thaw each year when the town sits divided. Streets are unsealed, pavements are wooden and all electricity is provided by a plant of diesel generators. It is a wonderful place to ease back into civilisation and celebrate a long time dream.
As part of a year's leave from our jobs in New Zealand, my partner and I spent two months canoeing and walking in this remote and spectacular part of the world.
We based ourselves in Whitehorse, two days by bus, or three hours flight, north of Vancouver. (There is also a flight from Frankfurt, Germany). This small but active town on the banks of the upper Yukon River is the service centre of the north.
Wilderness outfitters supply all the specialist gear you need. You can hire the essentials: canoe, paddles, lifejackets, barrels and dry bags plus the full camping kit if required. With no designated campgrounds it is wilderness camping all the way, including managing your gear so as not to invite a bear into camp!
I sit on the side of the river surrounded by 14 days of food and gear wondering what to pack first. The cool temperatures of the late season paddle means the food will last well. Organic expedition bread from the famous local Alpine Bakery will still taste great 10 days into the trip. Apart from the cool temperatures and regular rainfall early morning the big advantage of doing the trip in late August is the lack of bugs. During the high season of June and July, bug face-shields are an extra necessity.
Finally, after a mammoth packing effort, we push off in our yellow (submarine) canoe, the water clear and cool. We have purchased a guidebook for the river, detailing every kilometre with a scaled map and a corresponding running commentary of the European history of the river. The Yukon flows all the way across Alaska to its delta in the Bering Sea. The river was used by paddle wheelers to access the interior north of Canada during the gold rushes. The alternative access was to get off a boat in Skagway, Alaska and walk over White Pass into the headwaters of the Yukon. Many men and women perished in their quest for gold, others arrived to find the rivers staked out and returned home empty handed as far away as California.
It was a leisurely 30 km afternoon paddle to the head of Lake Laberge. We got off the water at 1930, the sun still high in the sky. We had a gourmet meal with so much to choose from. Woke the next morning to overcast weather and rain imminent. In front of us 60 km of lake paddling. We pulled into a bay that evening as the head wind grew in strength. The next morning was too windy to contemplate making progress so we went for a walk to a sheltered bay nearby. the wind eased in the early afternoon and we pushed on but were later reminded of the harsh environment we were in when the wind changed direction 180º in a matter of minutes, forcing us ashore. While searching for a campsite I found trees felled not by the work of humans, but by beavers. Further exploration found their magnificent constructions: several two metre high dams.
Leaving the lake we entered the faster flowing 30 mile (50 km) World Heritage River section of the river steeped, in history. Remains of paddle wheelers buried in the river gravel and rusting steel parts strewn downstream litter this section of river. An abandoned Police Station and derelict truck that was driven across the frozen lake during the eight month winter freeze mark another site. Further down we spot what we think is a building 50 metres back from the bank. Closer inspection reveals the distinctive flat hulled boat that used to ply these waters. It was pulled out for the winter by horses and turnstiles to avoid being crushed by ice and never floated again.
The remoteness of this trip means wildlife is aplenty. It is a daily ritual upon finding a camp spot, to designate tent, cooking and food sites for the night. Food storage is important, with the ever present possibility of a bear in camp overnight. Ensuring the food barrel is well back from the river, tied to a tree and that any excess food is hung from a high branch reduces the risk of an encounter.
Floating down the river one afternoon we see moose and calf on the riverbank. They slink down in the water to try and hide. As we get closer they start swimming and cross the Yukon just in front of us. The last bald eagles of the season watch over the river for any late salmon that are returning to their spawning grounds.
Many old hut relics remain along the riverbanks, especially at the tributary river mouths. From here tracks can be found radiating out into the bush. They were used to bring wood to the riverbank to fuel the paddle wheelers. During the winter woodsmen would stockpile 300 400 cord (12m, by 1m, by 0.3m). This has left large areas of forest clear felled now regenerating.
After seven days on the river, the first signs of civilisation in the form of a road are seen. Soon we are paddling through a small settlement. Carmacks is the one place on the river that there is an opportunity to restock supplies.
Day eight brings the infamous rapids Five Finger and The Rink. We get out above Five Finger to have a look. A large tangled wire rope is a sign that boats used to winch their way up the rapid by wrapping the cable around a steam driven capstan. We take the far right channel as directed, bouncing over a few standing waves and taking a bit of water in the boat. Rink Rapid has a channel on the river right that avoids the rapid. This same channel was used by the paddle wheelers when negotiating this part of the river.
As the days and the countryside pass by we settle into a routine. The river continues to grow in size from tributaries such as the Teslin, Big & Little Salmon and White Rivers. Navigation becomes a challenge as islands become bigger and longer the river is up to two kilometres wide in places. The silt load is increasing, the White River aptly named. Drinking water is settled in the bailing bucket overnight and the clear water decanted for drinking in the morning. At Fort Selkirk a group of First Nations people are living under nylon and rebuilding a community that once existed.
We awake on the fourteenth day with a weird feeling of civilisation looming. We pack up, the last thing we do is pour a cup of tea and a bit of hot water on our cereal breakfast. We push off and just float for the first hour, watching the scenery go by, sipping hot drinks, eating breakfast and reflecting on the last 14 days.
Dawson City is a community of 1 500 2 000 people divided by a river. No bridges here there 's a 24 hour ferry during the summer and a drive across the frozen river in winter. This leaves about two months of freeze and two months of thaw each year when the town sits divided. Streets are unsealed, pavements are wooden and all electricity is provided by a plant of diesel generators. It is a wonderful place to ease back into civilisation and celebrate a long time dream.