The Alaska Highway is closed indefinitely between Fort Nelson, BC, and Watson Lake, YT, due to a major wildfire that has been ongoing for about four days.
No detour has been suggested, but I think the obvious solution is to take the Cassiar Highway from Prince George, which, I’m told, can be a bit ‘rough’ in spots, but which will take you to twenty minutes north of Watson Lake.
Monday dawned cool and sunny with hardly a whisper of wind, promising optimal driving conditions. I took advantage of the free RV wash to hose down the rig, but the dust was so engrained that I only got a bit off. I knew it wasn’t worth scrubbing since I was just going to get dirty again. There were a couple of museums to see on the way out of town, but neither was open yet, so they’ll be hit on the way back.
Teslin was a great spot for a respite; quite, picturesque, friendly. I definitely recommend stopping there for at least an overnight!
The drive to Whitehorse was like being caught in a Stan Rogers song. It was also my best day on the road in a long time. Rae finally got her groove back. 🙂
If I’d had the option, I would have ‘hit the 4-wheel drive at Johnson’s Crossing’
Stopped for lunch and this made me laugh:
(so’s the Yukon, obviously!)
Shortly after lunch, I left the Alaska Highway, turning off it at Jake’s Corner to take the fabled Carcross Road. It would take me to the Klondike highway, which would take me back to the AH for a bit and into Whitehorse. My main reason for wanting to do this detour was because I was tired of seeing Emerald Lake on calendars:
Emerald Lake
Unfortunately, there were not many opportunities to pull over and take pictures on this beautiful stretch of road, so the drive remains ingrained in my memory. It was a great detour, with roads in fantastic condition that wound in and out of the mountains. The largest town I passed was Tagish, former home of my immediate neighbour in Oliver.
When I reached the Klondike Highway, I found myself at more than just the crossroads of two highways, but also at a crossroads in my life. My gut roiled at the thought of spending June in Whitehorse. I hadn’t slaved away in Oliver all last fall or lived the spring old-life-style to spend yet another month in a large city. Just like that, I decided to just stop overnight in Whitehorse and push on the next day to where I really wanted to spend June. I wouldn’t know it for sure until the next day, but something switched over in me at that moment.
Whitehorse was hot, dusty, and noisy. I was not prepared for the torrid heat in the least and scrambled to find a lighter-weight skirt, camisole, and sandals!
The Whitehorse Walmart allows overnight parking with a sign telling RVers where they can park. The only long spot I found was along Quartz Road, a busy thoroughfare, so I knew I was in for a long night. I would either boil to death in quiet by leaving the windows and hatches closed, or be cool and deafened. Civilization really wasn’t that much to be cracked up about!
First stop was the Starbucks just across from the rig (go ahead, laugh) for an iced cinnamon dolcé latté which I sipped on the terasse while I planned my evening in Whitehorse and my drive the next day.
Then, I did a bunch of errands, getting stocked up on kitty litter and other necessities better bought in bulk at Walmart than in small grocery stores.
Dinner was to be pizza, something I’d been craving for weeks, and research told me that Bocelli’s was the only authentic pizza place in town. It was only about 2km from the Walmart, so I was able to walk there.
It was a quiet Monday night and a bit early for dinner, so the owner, Midge, and I had time for a good chat as she whipped me up a delicious cheese pizza (accompanied by an ice cold beer). Turns out she’s from the same part of Canada as I am! I’d introduced myself as being from Ottawa and she said she was from Quebec, but that I wouldn’t know the town. I sure did, it’s only 60km from the town where I grew up and I passed it when driving from Ottawa to Montreal to visit family! What a small country, LOL!
I had a relaxed evening at home, watching a movie and reading and went to bed early so I could be on the road early as I wanted to reach my next destination in one shot. I needn’t have worried about getting up early as I did not get a wink of sleep, dozing on and off during that long night.
The Yukon River
Late last night (after 10PM) a helicopter landed in the RV park a short distance from my site (close enough that even my dirt was flying in the air). It’s now 8AM and the same helicopter is preparing to take off. It’s loud. Very loud. I’m just glad that I was already up! I spent the first three months of last winter at an RV park right by an airport and was never subjected to anything like this!
The RV park is practically empty right now and everyone has spread out. Along comes Joe Blow in his pickup and camper and what does he do? Park right next to me. Never mind that he could have parked two spaces away on either side, he had to park about a foot and a half from my rig, blocking my sun. I’ve been working on the generator on and off all day and now he’s so close to me that I don’t even have room anymore to work on the driver’s side of the rig! Moreover, he backed into a pull-thru (!), so why couldn’t he have backed into into one of the small water-front sites instead of taking up a site meant for a larger rig? *growls*
Teslin means ‘Long Narrow Water’ in the Tlingit language. It is a tiny village that contrasts sharply with Watson Lake, hinting at prosperity and pride. Homes are generally neat, constructed of natural logs or of clapboard painted brown. The natural setting defies description, with snowy rocky mountains, pine covered hills, and ice-covered lakes everywhere you look. Teslin boasts a couple of museums, a heritage centre, a post office, a community rec centre, an RCMP detachment, a clinic, and a general store that sells all manner of groceries at very reasonable prices.
The only museum open today was the wildlife gallery here at the Yukon Motel. Entrance is free, with donations being welcome. I was impressed by the quality of the exhibits, showing mounted animals indigenous to the Yukon. All animals died of natural circumstances, of course, including one beaver who drowned when it fell through some thin ice while trying to cross Lake Laberge one spring.
grizzly bear
moose and wolves
in front of the moose and wolf display; what a poetic way to express the natural balance of the universe
I then set off on my bike to explore Teslin’s streets. I found several placards explaining the history of this place. In Dawson Creek, you get the American version of the Alaska Highway building story. In Watson Lake, you get the Canadian side. And in Teslin, you get the final piece of the puzzle, the First Nations’ story.
Until the building of the Alaska Highway, the Tlingit, and other First Nations in the Yukon, still lived with the rhythm of the land. Teslin was a meeting place for trade, but not a permanent settlement. When the Alcan roared through, the nearby community of Johnston Town eventually emptied as residents sought the amenities that came with the great by-way–schools, jobs, health services. The soldiers who blazed the trail of ’42 also brought with them diseases against which the Tlingit had no immunity. A way of life was slowly wiped out as the local economy moved passed fur trading, trapping, and hunting. It would be naïve to say that the building of the Alaska Highway was entirely a good thing. Some First Nations paid for this thoroughfare with their very heritage.
It is also important to note that unlike the impression given in the American and Canadian stories, the soldiers who built the first tote road through the wilderness did not do so on their own. Rather, they employed native guides for whom this wild land was home.
all street signs are wooden and painted
