Day 4: Arriving in Yukon

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Day 5: Alaska Highway To Whitehorse

Day 6: August 7th

The beautiful sunset at Fox Lake was so calming that we ended up sleeping until 10 am. Now that we were here, the pressure of the clock and the number of kilometres we had to drive melted away. We could finally take our time to truly enjoy nature. By the time we woke up, the neighbours we had spoken with the previous evening had already left. The bright sunlight pierced through the trees, signalling the start of what would be an incredibly hot day. To cool off, we took a quick dip in the lake, more washing than swimming, really. The water was cold but bearable, refreshing us just enough for the journey ahead.

We decided it was time to head towards Dawson City. Our neighbours and others we met at the campsite had shared stories of things to do there, including the quirky tradition of drinking liquor from a cup that contains a mummified toe—a relic from the Gold Rush era. As we continued along the North Klondike Highway, we couldn’t shake a growing anxiety about our upcoming trip to the Arctic. Surprisingly, neither our Whitehorse-born neighbours nor a woman who had lived in Dawson City for 15 years had ever ventured onto the Dempster Highway. This nagging feeling of uncertainty began to creep into our thoughts.

Despite this, the drive along the Klondike Highway was stunning. The clear sky and nearly empty roads made for a serene journey. When we spotted a sign boasting “Best Cinnamon Buns,” we couldn’t resist stopping for a break. The size of the buns was a hot topic among visitors. We bought one bun and two coffees for $25 and dug in. As we enjoyed our treat, we noticed an old man, likely in his late seventies or early eighties, tackling the bun on his own. He had a long white beard, wore an orange T-shirt with suspenders and thick pants, and looked like a character from a fairy tale—the wise old man trope come to life. We struck up a conversation and learned he was from Switzerland. Switching to German, he shared that he had visited Yukon thirteen times and had been to the Arctic Circle three times.

Curious, we asked why he kept returning to Yukon when Switzerland has the stunning Alps. His response was simple: “Menschen, Menschen, zu viele Menschen.” There were too many people in the Alps, and he relished the remoteness of Yukon. Having travelled through Bavaria, Austria, Italy, and Switzerland ourselves, we could understand his sentiment. We expressed our concerns about the Dempster Highway, and he reassured us that as long as we were careful and had a good vehicle, there was nothing to fear. He even checked out our car and gave it his approval, which boosted our confidence.

With newfound determination, we decided to skip Dawson City and head straight for the Dempster Highway. Once on the road, we found the highway was far from intimidating. The gravel surface reminded us of driving through Algonquin Park to the Brent or Arcay campgrounds, and we encountered worse conditions in Turkey and Sri Lanka. The drive was actually quite beautiful, though the bright sun was a bit overwhelming, and hunger began to gnaw at us. We stayed cautious, driving slowly to take in the scenery. Other cars passed us, but we didn’t mind. Whenever we saw vehicles approaching, we pulled over to the right to avoid getting chips on our windshield. We reassured ourselves that, despite our pace, we were still faster than driving on the 401, all while enjoying the stunning scenery of rugged mountains, lakes, and rivers surrounded by aspen and pine trees.

Around 8 pm, we reached Tombstone Territorial Park and were lucky enough to snag one of the last two remaining campsites. This gave us just enough time to cook dinner and savour the remaining evening in the quiet beauty of the park.

Day 7: August 8th

The morning was crisp and cold, and we took our time getting out of bed. The wild, small stream near our camp was freezing, but we knew it wasn’t the time to hesitate. Understanding the physical laws that allow us to adjust to cold water, we needed to overcome the mental barrier. The days ahead would only get colder.

To our surprise, the water was incredibly refreshing, and we ended up staying in longer than we had anticipated. It was a surprisingly pleasant experience.

We had a brief chat with our neighbour, who had been on the road for over a month, starting from Vancouver. He had lived in Toronto years ago and was familiar with our area. He planned to head to Eagle Plains, possibly even further to the Arctic Circle, but first, he was going to spend some time hiking in Tombstone. When he heard it was our seventh day on the road, he asked, “Did you fly to Whitehorse and rent a car?”

“No,” we replied with a smile, “we flew with our car and are driving it now.”

Later, we stopped by the Tombstone Interpretive Centre, which had guest Wi-Fi, giving us a chance to connect. Knowing that we wouldn’t have internet for the next few days, we took care of all the tasks that required it, preparing ourselves for the offline days ahead.

There are countless reasons to think twice before embarking on a trip like this to the Arctic Circle. Even with the best weather imaginable, the driving conditions were challenging. Our earlier comparison to the 401—where we could drive as slowly as we liked and still make good time—quickly became irrelevant. It wasn’t traffic congestion that slowed us down; it was the road conditions. The gravel roads forced us to drive at barely 50 km/h, and we let every vehicle behind us pass. Safety was our highest priority.

We estimated that only about 20 vehicles were headed toward Eagle Plains, with most turning back from there. Considering July and August are the peak seasons, it’s likely that only around 1,000 people make this trip each year.

This journey demands more than just careful preparation. It requires discipline, physical and mental strength, and unwavering concentration. A single driving mistake on these slippery roads could have disastrous consequences. There’s no room for error and no place for misunderstandings. Here, in this remote part of the world, nature sets the rules, and those who aren’t prepared to follow them won’t get far.

We kept our speed below the posted limits. Along the way, we met a Dutch couple who had shipped their RV from Holland and recently returned from Tuktoyaktuk. They told us how beautiful the trip was, and we had an inkling of what they meant. Yesterday and today, we’ve already had experiences that are hard to put into words, and we know that something beyond description awaits us. How can we describe all these scenes? Each one is a masterpiece, like an artwork in a gallery. How can we store all these images in our minds without losing their quality? Photos and videos might serve as an index to retrieve fragments of these memories, but they can never truly capture the reality.

The heat of the sun and the long drive had worn us down, so when we arrived at Eagle Plains, we decided to spend the night there. The campground was well-maintained, offering drinking water, clean washrooms, and warm showers complimentary for campers. Registration was handled at the hotel reception, which featured a cozy bar with pool tables and walls adorned with replicas of wild animals. A friendly young man at the bar charged us $38 for the campsite.

After the long journey on a dusty road, our bodies craved relaxation, so we ordered a local Yukon beer. We settled into a comfortable couch in the middle of the room, where we struck up a conversation with two truck drivers. Over two more rounds of beer, we listened to their experiences driving the Dempster Highway and gained valuable insights into the world of trucking in the harsh conditions of this remote region. Their stories made us appreciate their work even more, knowing they are the economic lifeline in these parts. The evening was joyful, and we relaxed in our bed.

Tuktoyaktuk

When I was a kid, whenever I annoyed my parents to the point of frustration, my dad would say, “Go to Tuktoyaktuk,” which meant “Get lost”—a way to curse me. Now, as I head towards this once-mythical place, I feel like my father, who passed away last year, is watching over me, not with frustration, but with a blessing. It’s as if he’s saying, “This is my gift to you, and I’ll be watching over you every step of the way.”

Day 8: August 9th

Our morning was abruptly interrupted by an oversized raven aggressively trying to get at our food. We had to fend off the determined creature and quickly packed everything into our car to avoid any more surprises. After that odd encounter, we treated ourselves to some nice hot showers at Eagle Plains. The service at the campsite and hotel was so good that we decided to have breakfast there as well.

While there, we struck up a conversation with one of the staff members, a young man of North Indian origin. He shared his experiences of working and living in Eagle Plains and gave us a rundown of the restaurant’s offerings. The menu featured breakfast, lunch, and dinner at prices comparable to those in a Toronto restaurant. He also kindly provided us with ice bags to refill our cooler.

As we made our way to the lobby, we overheard some truckers talking. One of them had been stuck at Eagle Plains for nine days due to a road closure, and he was anxiously asking if the road had reopened. We had a brief chat with them before heading in for breakfast. We noticed a young man wearing a bicycle helmet, which struck us as a bit odd in that setting.

After breakfast, we settled onto one of the couches in the lobby to use the free Wi-Fi to download some information and maps for our journey. Nearby, a cyclist sat on the floor, leaning against a couch, wearing headphones with a laptop in front of him. He was explaining the difference between Python and Erlang for creating models for machine learning. It sounded like he was in the middle of an interview, so we quietly left the couch to give him some privacy once our downloads were completed.

As we drove between Eagle Plains and Inuvik, we saw many cyclists, both alone and in groups. At one point, a group of young women even overtook us when we stopped to let a truck pass. It seemed that cycling was quite popular in this remote region.

We eventually crossed the border into the Northwest Territories and noticed that the road conditions were improving. Between the ferry crossings at Peel River and McKenzie River, we stopped at Fort McPherson to fill up on gas. At the Northern store, we grabbed a coffee and had a pleasant chat with a friendly staff member from Kerala in South India. We mentioned that we had visited Kerala a few years ago for a close relative’s wedding. He had studied hospitality in Toronto and found a job in the Northwest Territories near Yellowknife four years ago before moving to Fort McPherson a couple of weeks ago. He mentioned that he preferred the remoteness of the area over the hectic life in Toronto, echoing the sentiment of the old Swiss man we met earlier.

For the next part go to North West Territories

Day 12: August 13th

After a refreshing warm shower, we decided to start the day with a hearty breakfast at the restaurant while waiting for the tire shop to open. The meal—a baked potato topped with cheese, fried bacon, mushrooms, green peppers, onions, and eggs, served in an oval dish with two pieces of bread and coffee—was the perfect way to kick off the day.

When we finally made it to the tire shop, we found that there was already another customer ahead of us, forcing us to wait another hour. We passed the time in the lobby, taking advantage of the Wi-Fi.

Once our car was being repaired, we took a walk to the back of the hotel to enjoy the view. A local husky, who had played with us earlier, crossed our path again, keeping a vigilant eye out for danger. It felt as though the dog was watching over us until we returned.

At the tire shop, the mechanic removed the troublesome brake dust shield, reattached the wheel, and advised us to tighten the screws after driving 50 kilometres. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the tools to diagnose the malfunction light, so they recommended driving carefully.

As we prepared to leave Eagle Plains, an oversized raven landed on our car and followed us. It seemed as though it wasn’t there to steal from us but to offer its blessing for the journey ahead. Feeling relieved that our car was back in working order, we set our sights on Tombstone Territorial Park, eager to spend time in what we believed might be the most beautiful place in the world.

After driving for about 50 kilometres, we pulled over to tighten the screws on the wheel and took the opportunity to make some coffee. Our friend from Munich happened to drive by and stopped to offer assistance. He ended up joining us for a café latte, which he found to be an unexpected delight. He snapped several pictures to capture the moment, grateful for this simple pleasure. He was planning to stay in Dawson City that night, while we would be there the following day. Knowing we wouldn’t meet again on this trip; we said our goodbyes and parted ways.

Despite topping off the coolant in Eagle Plains, the malfunction light on the dashboard remained on. We stopped at Engineer Creek Campground to let the engine cool down and decided to cook some soup. However, our meal was quickly interrupted by a couple of persistent wasps. Since we had enough concerns about the car, and didn’t want to add on to our concerns with wasps, we decided not to risk any more frustration and moved our meal to a nearby shed.

The shed was a large wooden structure with a roof, walls, and a big oven in the center. Inside, four men and a woman were just finishing up their meal preparations. A tall elderly man and a young woman greeted us warmly, while two younger men smiled in welcome. A tall elderly man and a young woman welcomed us at the same time while two other young men were smiling at us. They were a research team of students with their instructor from a university in Alberta. They had been here for the last eight days and would be leaving tomorrow. They had been researching permafrost conditions in this area to improve the climate models. Since we read that the severe road conditions were due to permafrost conditions, we asked them the reason for using rocks and gravel instead of asphalt and came to know that it was due to the high cost of maintenance and not due to any constraint by nature.

After another 50 kilometres, we stopped once more to cool down the engine. While waiting, we took in the pure, untouched nature around us and snapped a few pictures. As we continued the final leg of our journey, we noticed that the malfunction light had finally turned off.

We arrived at Tombstone Campground after a long and slow drive. To celebrate the end of a challenging yet rewarding day, we poured ourselves a glass of whiskey, took in the stunning surroundings, and went to bed feeling content and at peace.

Day 13: August 14th

The closer we get to the North Pole, the more our sense of time seems to warp. Here, sunsets occur after midnight, and the speed at which the sun rises and sets is unlike anything we’re used to. The three-hour time difference further complicates our perception of time.

Today, we visited the Tombstone Observatory and unexpectedly ran into the man from Munich again. We had assumed he would be heading to Dawson City. He shared his plan to join a guided tour, but we chose to explore nature on our own.

We hiked the Grizzly Lake trail and then drove back to Dawson City, where we celebrated our journey by writing “We did it. Tuk and back” on our dusty car.

Upon arriving in Dawson City in the late afternoon, we first cleaned the car at a motel near the entrance to the city. Next, we searched for an auto repair shop. The first shop we visited, while attentive to our car troubles, informed us they were booked until September. After some searching, we eventually found Chief Isaac Mechanic, who agreed to see us the following day.

We then drove to the Gold Rush Campground, where we freshened up, did our laundry, and prepared to explore the city. Our exploration led us to the Downtown Hotel, where we enjoyed a hearty meal of beef steak, a bison burger, pecan goat cheese salad with cranberries, and a beer. After such a fulfilling day, we were thoroughly exhausted and decided to retire for the night.

Day 14: August 15th

Today, we were up and ready by 6:30 AM, having completely lost our sense of time. With the Chief Isaac mechanic shop not opening until 8:30, we had plenty of time to freshen up and take a drive to the Midnight Dome. From there, we enjoyed a breathtaking view of Dawson City, the Yukon River, the Klondike River, and beyond, with clouds gently resting over the town below.

We arrived at the mechanic shop precisely at 8:30. In addition to the issues we had already noticed with the car, it had begun making a new noise, and we smelled gas. Our suspicion that there was an exhaust problem turned out to be correct.

The shop had a signboard that read, “Only two of the following three can be fulfilled: good, fast, or cheap.” We figured we’d have to compromise, but they managed to fix everything quickly and at a very reasonable price.

Relieved that both we and our car had survived the Dempster Highway, we decided to spend the day exploring Dawson City, starting with breakfast at Denton and Company. The coffee house had a cozy, rustic charm, built from old wood. As we entered, we were greeted by a young couple who had been our game partners at the community hall in Tuktoyaktuk. Originally from the UK, they were working in Tuk for a construction company. We ordered a cheese plate and a matcha latte. The cheese plate came with four different cheeses, olives, cucumber, pickled capers, and sweet date jam, all served with baguette slices on a wooden board. It was delicious and beautifully presented.

After breakfast, we headed to the Dawson City Museum, where we learned about the area’s history, from the pre-Gold Rush era to the modern land claim agreements with the First Nations. The museum highlighted how thriving communities had existed in and around Dawson City before Europeans arrived. The Gold Rush of the 1870s changed everything as Europeans took over the land and built the city. The museum detailed how they developed gold mining, their way of life, and the pivotal role of figures like Chief Isaac, who negotiated with the Europeans to protect his people.

Unfortunately, the arrival of Europeans also led to the loss of indigenous land and culture, exacerbated by the Indian Act, which banned the speaking of indigenous languages and forced children into residential schools. It wasn’t until the 1960s, after years of fighting for their rights, that the First Nations sent land claim agreements to the Canadian government, some of which were signed in the 1990s. Today, these communities are working to revitalize their language, culture, and governance on the land they’ve reclaimed.

Armed with this knowledge, we decided to experience a bit of the Gold Rush ourselves. We borrowed gold pans from the visitors’ center and drove about 20 km uphill to claim #6, an approved gold panning site. The gravel road took us past several other claims, abandoned machinery, and active mining areas. The site had picnic tables, and we were joined by a German family from near Stuttgart and another German man. We kept our expectations low, mostly hoping the kids would have fun. Just as we were about to leave, the kids excitedly showed us some gold nuggets they had panned.

We then rushed to the Dänojà Tho Cultural Center, where visitors were welcomed with tea or coffee—we chose wildflower tea. The museum there further enriched our understanding of the land’s people, telling stories of their history, the impact of the gold rush, the Indian Act, and their eventual agreements with the government. The center also showcased their ongoing efforts to rejuvenate their language, heritage, and culture.

Our next stop was the Jack London Museum, a small house filled with photos of the author. Inside, a slim elderly lady greeted us with a smile, and we noticed another visitor, a young man of Chinese origin, studying the pictures. When the woman asked about our interest in Jack London, we shared that we had a collection of his works at home and discussed his short story “Yukon River.” The young man joined our conversation, telling us that he had read Jack London in school. He lived in Vancouver and had cycled to Dawson City in 27 days. We mentioned meeting cyclists on the Dempster Highway, and he revealed his plans to do the same in the coming days. We admired his determination and wished him well.

Adjacent to the museum was a lodge displaying caribou furs and other artifacts from the Gold Rush era.

Afterward, we went to the Triple J Hotel for burgers and beer before spending an hour walking along the shore of the Yukon River, located just across the road from Dawson City’s shops. The sun was shining on the water, and the park was filled with young people sitting on the grass or benches, discussing, reading, or simply relaxing. Nearby, three people were boarding a small plane for a flight over the Yukon and Klondike rivers.

As we wandered, we realized we still had the gold pan from the visitors’ center and decided to return it. To our surprise, we ran into the man from Munich once again. Despite having parted ways two days ago and meeting him again at Tombstone and now in Dawson City, it seemed our paths kept crossing in what felt like an increasingly unlikely series of coincidences. He was preparing to leave for Alaska, and although we were staying the night in Dawson City, and it seemed unlikely we’d meet again, we said, “See you again,” just in case.

After returning the pan, we headed to Three Diamond Gerties Casino, which hosts three shows starting at 8:30 PM. The casino had slot machines, card tables, a bar, a stage, and small round tables with chairs around them. People rushed into the hall to secure front seats. The shows were themed around the Gold Rush era, with the first depicting the relationship between a gold prospector and a brothel madam with three girls. The second show, inspired by Moulin Rouge, highlighted why Dawson City was once called the Paris of the North. Though entertaining, it had been a long day, and our exhaustion was setting in. We decided to call it a night and headed back to our bed for some much-needed rest.

For the next part go to Alaska