From pedal to paddle
Though driving is the main focus of our trip, Tom and I knew we wanted at least one night on a river while in the Yukon. Since we finished the Dempster faster than expected, we decided to make the most of the spare couple of days we had around Dawson before we meet our friends who are visiting us from Squamish tomorrow.
Back when we first arrived in Dawson a week ago, we asked the visitor centre if there were any overnight canoe rental shops in town. She gave us directions to the only one.
It took us a few minutes to find the place. The shop looks permanently closed, with a few canoes sitting round back and not a soul in sight. Not even a branded sign. There is, however, a small, pink, hand-written piece of paper with two people's phone numbers listed, stuck to the shop window. How rogue. My kind of place.
We were delighted when a woman named Jessica answered the phone, meeting us later that afternoon to sort out the details. She recommended we paddle the Klondike River instead of the Yukon, so we happily obliged.
A week and some 1,800km later, having driven to the top of the world and back, we were more than ready to give Envy a couple of days off, climbing out of one seat and into another.
Jessica met us in the morning in Dawson, drove us some 50km up the road, and with a quick goodbye, left us on our own on the beach. Her style was very to the point, no faff. I couldn't be more pleased.
The Klondike River is much narrower and shallower than the Yukon, with tighter bends and plenty of deadfall. Our long-forgotten canoeing skills came back to us surprisingly fast as we navigated the first few bends. The Klondike keeps you on your toes, the perfect blend of excitement and adventure, without tipping into treacherous or stressful. Playful enough that you're having fun, but if the fun turns sour, you can still stand up.
Tom and I tied our beers in a mesh bag off the side of the boat, and as the afternoon wore on we sipped cold Alexander Keith's, relaxed, and watched bald eagles hop from tree to tree down the river. Life takes on a different perspective when you’re watching the river instead of the road. Though you’re still on the move, life passes you by at a slower pace, allowing you to soak up more of the details.
Every time we stopped to stretch our legs on shore, we found tracks from all the top-tier contenders: a mother bear with what looked like two cubs, countless moose, and even a wolf.
We found a small island about 25km into our route and set up camp for the night. In true Tom fashion, he spent the better part of three hours building a shaded shelter with the tarp we’d brought and driftwood scavenged from the shore. Then he cut wood for the fire. After that, he manoeuvred a bunch of rocks along the shore so we had a sheltered eddy to soak in. If there's something to do, that man will do it. If there isn’t, he’ll create a job. Every man with A.D.D should live in the wild.
Before you get on my case: I made the fire and set up the tent, then spent the afternoon supervising Tom's productivity while reading my book. Someone had to stand watch in case a bear wanders in, and I gladly took on the heavy responsibility… from the comfort of my lounger.
Throughout our journey north, we've seen several campgrounds with electric fencing around the tented sections. Though I can appreciate the purpose, it’s even more ominous and foreboding being surrounded by live wire while you sleep, helpless, on the forest floor. It makes the bears' presence feel all the more real.
Needless to say, as Tom and I crawled into our tent last night by the river, we both knew in the back of our minds that we're very much in grizzly country, and all the electrical know-how Tom has won't do a damn thing to help us tonight. We'd also forgotten our bear bangers in the glove box, so we’d have to settle for our single can of bear spray.
Speaking of bear spray, have you ever tested one? My curiosity got the best of me this morning as I decided to test ours. I've never had to use one before, so I have no idea how big the spray is or how far it reaches. Pretty crucial knowledge, in my opinion.
While Tom was still asleep in the tent, I wandered away from camp, down the river, and gave the trigger a quick blast. Woah! The pepper sprays out like a fire extinguisher, with a fair amount of force and plenty of product. It travels a good 10 to 12 feet within a second. Powerful stuff. How bears can see after a blast like that to the face is beyond me.
Now, in classic Anna fashion, I hadn’t considered where the wind was blowing, given how calm and still the morning was. I walked back around from the bend I sprayed from and immediately caught the faintest whiff of it. Even that tiny trace of leftover residue had me coughing and sneezing for a few moments. Idiot. Thankfully Tom was still asleep at the time, so my shame will never see the light of day.
Back on the drive up the Dempster, we listened to a podcast called Tooth & Claw, about two brothers recounting brutal animal attacks throughout history. One particularly gruesome episode follows a young man and his father who go hunting a grizzly in the spring. News to both Tom and me, there's a style of hunting in Alaska where hunters wait outside bear dens for the animal to wake from its slumber and step outside, then take advantage of the moment to shoot it.
We learned this is an especially dangerous way to hunt, because bears are incredibly territorial. The young man's father was attacked by the bear as it emerged from its den, but his gun jammed. Though they both survive, the bear literally tears the father's face off. There are photos online of this specific encounter. I don’t recommend doing a google search.
The podcast hosts, one of whom has years of experience researching and spending time with nearly every kind of bear on the planet, say bear spray is the best deterrent, better than guns. That episode is a stark example of why. Naturally, hunters can't kill a bear with spray, but it puts into perspective just how quickly things can go wrong, and how important it is to have the right tool on hand. I’m grateful Tom and I have not had to use ours. That said, I can now confidently, though somewhat embarrassingly, say our spray is ready and waiting.
A far cry from wolves and bears, our excursion down the river brought us other, less intimidating animal encounters. We were greeted by a pair of tundra swans, plenty of ducks and ducklings, a handful of bald eagles, and even a few kingfishers.
Knowing our time in the Yukon is quickly coming to an end, it feels somewhat ceremonial to spend a day on such an iconic river in this iconic part of the country. Though we didn’t find any gold on the Klondike, of which there's still plenty to be found, we feel lucky all the same.
With sunshine, wilderness, and quality time together, it’s hard to ask for more.
