#yukonriver

[shellymusyj]

Bit of a light show last night 🌌 #northernlights #auroraborealis #winter #nightphotography #dawsoncity #visitdawsoncity #trondëkhwëchinterritory #yukonterritory #yukon #yukonriver #homesteadlife #offgridliving #offgrid #beauty (at Dawson, Yukon Territory) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpLiIrqP4YU/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[onetravelspot]

Emerald Lake, Yukon Territory, Canada

Despite its picturesque photo op, the lake is one of the most photographed destinations in all of the Yukon. Glaciers carved out Emerald Lake 14,000 years ago, and its jaw-dropping green water and mountain range background make it one of the most photographed destinations in all of the Yukon.

OneTravelSpot.com is a Travel Meta Search site that finds and compares the best offers and special deals on Hotels, Flights, Cruises, Car Rentals, Taxi, Transfers, Tours, Bike Rentals, Activities, Concerts, Sports, and Theater Tickets.

[coffeenuts]

Swallows in a Snow Storm by kdee64 https://flic.kr/p/dFUk7m

[kerioberlyphotography]

King Salmon (łuk chao) smokes in a cache in Gwichyaa Zhee (Fort Yukon), Alaska. Often referred to as Yukon gold, the Gwich’in spend the month of July fishing for King Salmon, with fish wheels or nets, on the Yukon River. For the Gwich’in the only adequate food is food that comes from the land—fish, caribou, moose, and berries, making up 80% of their diet. #gwichin #salmon #yukonriver #fortyukon #cache #foodsecurity (at Fort Yukon, Alaska) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0qux8IhcJz/?igshid=isacj7f4zctt

[lianneoelke]

Yukon Gold, Part 2: An Involuntary Dismount From the Canoe

Good morning from Fort Selkirk!

With bellies full of hearty chilli and a sky full of smoke, JJ and Falcon Heavy were ready to hit the river for our fourth day of canoeing down the Yukon River.

We were only five minutes past Fort Selkirk when JJ realized we forgot a radio and both cans of bear spray. We couldn’t just turn around and paddle upstream, so we had to land so Brian could run up the beach and grab everything (which was left on the above picnic table). After that, we were well on our way to an 80km day.

We spotted a black bear munching berries on an island.

We weren’t the only group on the river making a pilgrimage to Dawson City for the music festival. We’d play leapfrog with the same groups so often we came up with nicknames:

Spanish Armada: the group of nine Spaniards that made giant Spanish omelettes for breakfast and tied two canoes together because they had an odd number of people.

Walmart: the family that travelled with camping chairs, big tarps, and coolers. JJ disliked Walmart. JJ thought Walmart was American. Those are two separate sentences. Walmart was actually from Whitehorse. 

Gold Diggers: a husband and wife that would set up on islands and pan for gold. Or so it seemed. 

Reckless Youth: a handful of twenty-somethings from UBC with an aversion to life jackets.

Father & Son: they had little to say, to us or each other.

Frenchies: two French guys. That’s it. 

Christmas Trees: a red and green boat of women having a jolly old time.

We learned the Spanish Armada planned to camp at the site we were aiming for that night. We could have joined them, but I, for one, did not travel all that way to the middle of nowhere to make new friends. So we had to find somewhere else. We came across another good campsite early in the day, but the weather was beautiful and we wanted to get more kilometers in, so we kept pushing. This moment would be remembered as the time we “got greedy”.

Storm clouds blew in fast. When thunder started booming, Brian told us all to get off the river. So we did. And we waited. Then the rain started. And we waited some more. 

Brian (very reasonably) didn’t want to get back on the water until thirty minutes after the last thunder, but the thunder wouldn’t let up. Things were looking grim. Then we remembered we had snacks. We survived on gummy bears, chips, tea, toasted pita and hummus, and craft hot chocolate from Portland, for the two and a half hours it took for the storm to pass.

Spirits wavered but never failed. 

By the time the storm passed, we still had another ten kilometers to paddle before we reached our goal of Brittania creek, and we found ourselves in the curious position of chasing the storm we had just weathered. When we finally arrived, the site was full of bugs, but at least there weren’t any new friends buzzing around.

For dinner I made a bastardized version of Pad Thai, using the canoe as a table while being swarmed by mosquitoes. I quickly realized why this particular packet of curry paste was left untouched in our cupboard for years.

By this point JJ had given up on the trappings of individuality and had matured into a fully realized single entity. So when JJ cast a line and caught their first decently sized fish at 11.36 pm, the three of us celebrated the incredible testament to JJ’s speed, momentum, and finesse. Considering all the rain we endured, we figured it was safe to build a small beach fire to cook the fish. 

We all came to regret this decision, as the fish remains and fish-smoked clothes had to be dealt with before we could finally go to bed, in order to minimize bear attraction. However, since I cooked that night, I was able to dodge clean up. I went to bed without a care in the world.

Day five dawned sunny and misty. We knew this would also be a big day, but for a very different reason. This was the day we’d reach the bakery. Yes, somehow there was a bakery in the middle of nowhere on the Yukon River. 

Power strokes would get us there quicker. 

Of course we had to stop whenever we came across moose trampling through the bushes, beavers smacking their tails, and bears ambling down the beach.

The bakery turned out to be less of a bakery and more of a family home that sold $18 omelettes and saran-wrapped cookies (we bought them all). We payed $8 each to stay the night. Camping in someone else’s backyard to listen to their kids blast music and play in their pool felt strange after the solitude of the river, but we knew the daily thunderstorm would hit us soon and the last thing we needed was to “get greedy” again. So we settled in, washed up, and tackled laundry.

JJ waiting out the 6 o’clock thundershowers. 

Of course, no camping trip with JJ (formerly Rob) would be complete without curry. JJ made us a heaping pot, just in time for more rain showers. 

The next day we found ourselves fresh out of fresh ingredients, so we climbed aboard the COUS COUS train and headed for dehydration station.

Rafting up for snacks and map checks.

We had lunch at the island right before the White River, which poured all its glacial silt into the Yukon. The two rivers blended like miso soup. JJ made ramen while Brian flew his drone for a better view.

After lunch, we found a short but steep trail to hike. 

After the merge we could no longer filter our water from the river, which was so thick we couldn’t even see our own feet when we dipped them in. All the silt brushing against our canoes made a constant fizzing noise, like a never-ending glass of coke being poured. 

Just a couple bros enjoying happy hour with river-chilled beer.

After the relative business of the “bakery”, we decided to camp on an undesignated island covered in moose tracks. While the views and privacy were top notch, all the silt made for very muddy shores.

Brian made delicious minestrone soup for dinner, then treated us to freeze-dried ice cream sandos in honour of the 50th anniversary of the moon landing.

You can only get dishes so clean in the silty water, but on day six, cleanliness was no longer a priority. Brian had bought a last minute gold pan in Whitehorse, and while it didn’t find us any gold, it did make an excellent vessel for washing dishes and laundry.

The sky was still light at 1 am, because the sky was always light. We went to bed when it was light. We woke up when it was light. Time had no meaning on the river. It created (for me, at least) a sense of security. Openness. Like the Yukon had nothing to hide. But the truth was, we were in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of kilometers from the nearest town, on a muddy river where every island was covered with bear, wolf, and moose tracks.

We woke to the sound of splashing outside our tent. I immediately thought the moose had come to do us in, but instead of moose on the loose, we saw a gaggle of goose. 

These banks were home to countless cliff swallows that zipped along the river, eating bugs. Yum. 

“JJ first.”

There’s gold in them there hills. But not really.

Our last night on the river was spent at the Mechem Creek site. We set up camp as Brian howled in the cold cold creek, washing off the heat of the day.

Fire bans don’t count on the last day of the trip. Not if it’s been raining every day and you’re careful. JJ struggled to get the fire going (which Brian and I found slightly concerning, considering how dry the sticks were), but all’s well that ends well. 

I made a pesto surprise COUS COUS dinner with brownie bear poo for dessert. Everyone saved some sort of fun surprise for their last meal.

“Very good food on this trip. Every meal has been at least a solid 7.5 out of 10.” - JJ

The site at Mechem creek turned out to be my favourite camp site, not least because we saved a bag of wine for that night. 

We woke up at 6am up to a brilliant, clear sky.

JJ treated us to one last meal on the river.

There’s nothing better than a well packed canoe! 

River travel is tiring work.

We rafted up for one last ceremonial flip of the map, which brought us to our final page. Spirits were high. Jokes were shared. We were finally on the home stretch of our 8 day, 400 km paddle through the Yukon wilderness.

Minutes away from Dawson City, disaster struck.

Brian wanted to stop for a drone shot of Dawson before we paddled in, so we radioed JJ to let them know to land at the tip of the next island. Unable to reach the point in time, JJ decided to land mid island, where the strong current had eroded the bank, causing several trees to topple. It was a bad place to land, and they came in hot hot hot.

Official statement from JJ:

“JJ experienced an involuntary dismount resulting in minor losses from the deck and a minor intake of water. However, the landing was successful.”

JJ thought the word “capsize” was too passionate for the encounter, but Falcon Heavy disagreed. When JJ’s canoe met land, the current hit from underneath, tipping the canoe and its contents upstream. Brian turned to me and said “They capsized. They did exactly what I told them not to do.” No one was injured, although Jordan’s solar panel and Rob’s hat and beloved binoculars were lost to the water. Falcon Heavy found a safe eddy to pull in, then Brian brought out the drone while we waited for JJ to get their shit together.

The paddle of shame.

We had just got back in the water when we heard the unmistakable rumble of thunder. We were faced with a dilemma: get off the water, like all Brian’s experience suggested we do, or “get greedy” and paddle hard to race the storm.

We paddled hard...

... but not so hard we didn’t have time to admire the first and only fox we saw on the river.

That’s Dawson City at the top.

This time our gamble paid off, and we made it to the docks with nae drama (except for the paddleboat that honked at us to get out of its spot).

Safe and sound in Dawson City, it was time to look back at our favourite and not so favourite moments of the canoe trip.

JJ (Jordan)

Highlight: Fort Selkirk. Just the whole fort. So cool.

Lowlight: Involuntary canoe dismount and loss of solar panel. 

Gold Star: Gold Pan/Brian Shaw for getting the gold pan.

JJ (Rob)

Highlight: The River (as a tangible entity and metaphysical being) The colours, the current, the curves...the feeling.

Lowlight: Involuntary canoe dismount and loss of binoculars. 

Gold Star: JJ. The physical embodiment of speed, momentum and finesse.*

*In all my years of highlight/ lowlight/ gold star, I have never seen someone award the gold star to themselves. 

Brian

Highlight: All the Yukon cabins. The history of the Yukon Crossing, the trees growing out of Thom’s Location cabin roof, the historically intact cabins of Fort Selkirk (inside and out), and all the private cabins we saw in between.

Lowlight: Cleaning up the fish & fire at Britannia Creek between midnight and 1am, exhausted from the long day, swarmed by bugs, still stinking of fish, right into the tent.

Gold Star: Jordan, for making the trip (and JJ) happen by stepping in at the last minute and filling the spot, prepared and enthusiastic, and a strong paddler.

Lianne

Highlight: The beautiful site and tasty food at Mechem Creek. Also the fact that none of the canoeists that stopped by the creek for water decided to stay the night, because sharing the site would have really killed the vibe.

Lowlight: Spending hours waiting out the day four thunderstorm under a tarp.

Gold Star: The map. Following along and “staying found”, as Brian would say, was easy and delightful.

Bonus Gold Star: Brian Shaw. The unofficial leader of our canoe trip, Brian looked after us all with his experience, well-muscled arms, moon landing trivia, sexy beard, and positive attitude. 

As always, most of the good pics were taken by Brian. He put together an album of the 2019 Yukon River greatest hits: 

https://www.flickr.com/photos/22674099@N08/albums/72157710102335767/page1

Stay tuned for the third and final part of Yukon Gold. Dawson City will bring a music festival, rowdy casino, epic hike, and a real life Yukon character known as “the Ghost”. 

[edreamworld]

Yukon-Charley Rivers National Preserve #yukoncharleyriversnationalpreserve #yukonriver #yukonrivercamp #alaskawinter #winterwonderland #arcticcircle #alaska #roadtripalaska #dreamamerica #edreamamerica #dreamamericausa #juniorranger #juniorrangerbadge #juniorrangerprogram (at Yukon-Charley Rivers National Preserve) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClCwqsxrulQ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[archivesofamericanart]

Archives Road Trip: Alaska 

During World War II, Henry Varnum Poor (1887–1970) was stationed in Alaska as a war correspondent tasked with documenting soldier life at Ladd Army Airfield in Fairbanks. Major Poor sketched this view of the Yukon River from a military plane. “The pattern of tundra…seen from a height of 7,000 feet, is an intricate abstract arrangement in curves,” he wrote in his book manuscript An Artist Sees Alaska.

This sketchbook is currently on view in our exhibition, Off the Beaten Track: A Road Trip through the Archives of American Art on view through June 3 in our Lawrence A. Fleischman Gallery in Washington, D.C.

[alla-lighting-auto-led-lights]

She looks so attractive w/ #ALLALighting LEDs upgrade not only make your driving much safer, easier and smarter, but also enhance much luxury looking at daylight #gmcyukon #gmcyukondenali #gmcsierra #gmc #gmccanyon #gmcdenali #gmcnation #gmcsierra1500 #gmcterrain #gmctrucks #gmcoffroading #gmctruck #gmcacadia #gmcsierradenali #yukondenali #yukonxl #yukonterritory #yukon #yukonriver #yukoncanada #foglights #headlight #headlights #customheadlights #diyprojects #installation #autoparts #autopartsstore #offroadclub https://www.instagram.com/p/CbgQij5r5-F/?utm_medium=tumblr

[ipromisetostaywild]

[cudeastbound]

The little town of Dawson City. 🌈 #trondëkhwëchinterritory #ilovedawson #yukon #rainbow #smalltowns #landcapes #yukonriver #theklondike (at Dawson City) https://www.instagram.com/p/CEnr6ySnO1y/?igshid=myycfc2xxw8n

[shellymusyj]

Home sweet home 🏡 #cabin #homesteadlife #offgrid #yukon #yukonriver #yukonterritory #livingthedream (at Dawson, Yukon Territory) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm7hz_kvI0W/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ak-bookmobile]

“OPEN 20 HOURS” we made it to Whitehorse after our longest day on the road. The Yukon has been wonderful and pitching our tent at the Robert Service camp site, within earshot of the Yukon River and only about a mile from downtown Whitehorse. What a treat to be able to pitch our tents and then walk into town, as apposed to getting back in the bus. We only had about 12 hours in the area, but like the times before, I leave wanting to spend more time in Whitehorse. Time enough to get to know what seems like a really compelling city #bookmobile #buslife #schoolbus #bus #mobilelibrary #library #roadtrip #whitehorse #yukon #yukonriver https://www.instagram.com/p/B1-V4btnLm-/?igshid=6pxqfv6ewslf

[tannerhewison]

Yukon River! (Same Yukon as mentioned in Rudolf The Red Nosed Reindeer...) #Rudolph #Christmas #Snow #Yukon #YukonRiver #Travel #Adventure #Car #Subaru #Pic #RoadTrip #Alaska #Washington #Canada #AlaskaToWashington (at Yukon River) https://www.instagram.com/p/B7AKinbp_YH/?igshid=dfmwz7wvow7l

[kerioberlyphotography]

Summer night swims on the Yukon #alaska #yukonriver #summernights #gwichin (at Fort Yukon, Alaska) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0o8M8DhYVo/?igshid=1kxgv4io80i2b

[lianneoelke]

Yukon Gold, Part 1: Do You Know the River?

The long awaited write up of our 2019 Yukon adventure is finally here. You’re welcome.

400 km of canoeing down the Yukon River is no small feat. Brian made sure Rob, Jordan, and I were well aware of the fact. Especially since Rob and Jordan were relatively new to the canoeing scene. Brian was eager to use his experience from a childhood spent navigating white water to keep us all alive. And survive we did, in part because there wasn’t really any white water on our trip.

After weeks of maps, YouTube videos, meal prep, and capsize practice in the ocean, the four of us were ready to journey from Carmacks to Dawson City in eight days. We arrived in Whitehorse on the morning of Thursday, July 11, and soon realized we were in for a smoke show. Forest fires were raging across the Yukon, and a territory wide fire ban was in effect. Bummer.

After buying fresh groceries, fuel, and bear spray, we dropped our bags off at a seedy hotel and explored Whitehorse. The river, though smoky, was beautiful and not nearly as cold as we feared. We ended up (of course) at Yukon Brewing, the biggest craft brewery up north. After sampling everything they had (which was decent enough), we went to Woodcutter’s Blanket, a delightfully small brew pub where we poured over maps and made last minute adjustments to our plan. Woodcutter’s beer met the extremely high standards set by us pretentious city folk.

Next up was an unremarkable dingy bar next to the hotel, where we enjoyed more Yukon Gold (which would become the official beer of our expedition) while playing pool (I think Brian won? He doesn’t remember) and Dutch Blitz (I definitely won).

The next morning we packed our bags, grabbed coffee, breakfast, and lunch, and jumped on a Husky Bus to Carmacks, where we had arranged for the rental canoes to be dropped off.

We loaded up the boats and put in, right as a group of nine canoeists from Spain (who would later come to be known as the Spanish Armada) pulled in. Maybe we didn’t look as prepared as we felt, because as we untied our ropes and started paddling, one of the Spaniards called out “Do you know the river?” and we replied “sort of” and he said “The Five Finger Rapids! Stay right! But not all the way right!”. Then the Spanish Armada was lost to the smoke and current and we were on our own.

River paddling was new to us lake canoeists, and as we cautiously tested our paddles against the current, we were delighted to discover how easy it was to let the 8km/ hr water move us along. We were fresh and eager to paddle relatively hard until we reached the famous Five Finger Rapids. Brian had done his part to instil a healthy fear of the rapids into us all, and after waving to the people viewing from a nearby platform, we plunged into the churning water. Thirty seconds and a couple small splashes later, we were out of the rapids, thinking “that’s it?”. Exactly as Brian hoped. Better safe than sorry.

We reached our first campsite quickly. At this point the river closely followed the highway, so the campsite had car access and was relatively developed with outhouses, cooking shelters, and fire rings we couldn’t use. Rob treated us to a lovely pasta. Fresh ingredients cooked simply and all that. Having successfully navigated the rapids on our first day, we were all in high spirits and enjoyed the evening.

The next morning dawned wet and smoky. I resigned myself to the possibility that we would never have clear skies for the duration of the trip.

Smokey or not, we were all delighted to be on the river. Group dynamics were starting to comfortably settle. Despite their relative inexperience, Jordan and Rob’s canoe proved to be quite strong, with Jordan’s powerhouse stroke keeping them in the lead and Rob’s gentle finessing keeping them on course. They decided to call their canoe unit “JJ” (for Jordan and Judson). Neither of them seemed to realize what a terrible name that is.

Press release from JJ:

JJ is complex unicellular dictatorship. Her architecture is modeled on eukaryotes and possess analogous sub-cellular organelles such as a membrane (canoe), mitochondria (solar panel), ER (garbage bag) and cilia (Jordon). JJ functions as an independent authoritarian state. Decisions, actions and morals are attained as one unified body. Her unofficial slogan is: JJ first. Her unofficial motto is: For the good of the state.

Brian and I took a more relaxed approach and were content to keep our individual identities. We called our canoe “Falcon Heavy”, as a nod to the fiftieth anniversary of the moon landing and a humble comparison to the innovative explorers of SpaceX. Mottos are stupid so we didn’t have one.

With another six days left to reach Dawson City, we had time to stop wherever we felt like, including old historic sites like Yukon Crossing...

... where Rob promptly lost his first fishing lure.

The morning was a wet and buggy affair, so we improvised a lunch shelter with a tarp and paddles.

Next stop was Minto, another old outpost. We knew our friend Brittany was starting her own canoe journey from there, so we kept an eye out for her going forward. Minto is also where the highway splits off from the river, so at this point we were even more on our own.

We spent our second night at a site called Thom’s Location, which featured a rustic cabin with trees growing out of the roof.

Jordan went above and beyond with his fresh ratatouille and chocolate zucchini loaf!

We didn’t see any other paddlers the next morning, but we did see a moose and her two calves. JJ scared them away by getting too close.

Dall sheep dotted the mountains.

Brian taking in the view (ie me).

Last stop of day three was Fort Selkirk, a historic trading post and campground marked by a smiling gold star on our map.

The campground was large, with a wood stove in the cooking shelter, garbage cans (a true luxury!), and stunning views. The Fort itself was a collection of abandoned buildings stretching a kilometer down the river.

“Hello! Just going to take a quick look in here. In we go. Nae drama.”

Most of these buildings were open for exploration. It felt like Red Dead Redemption II, though we unfortunately did not come across any horse stimulants, cocaine gum, or half empty bottles of bourbon.

The Jack Thornton school.

Storm clouds moved in quickly, as they did nearly every evening on the river. Thunderstorms made us nervous, since there were already enough forest fires burning in the Yukon (including one on nearby Volcano Mountain). Fort Selkirk was prepared with pumps and hoses reaching down to the river.

Jordan wasn’t worried about forest fires.

Brian spent the hot summer evening firing up the hot wood stove in the hot cooking shelter to make his hot jalapeno cornbread (surprise: he put cheddar in the cornbread! This one’s for you, Rob!). As we enjoyed the cornbread with Brian’s famous BBQ beans while also enjoying the view, we asked ourselves again: “Do you know the river?”. The answer was still “sort of”. We were getting to know each other as well, with distinct boat identities emerging, camp routines settling, and phrases like “just going for a little wee wee over here” and “Muchas gracias. MUCHAS. GRACIAS.” becoming as familiar as the constant splash of paddles or chirping of squirrels.

Little did we know, we’d need all our newfound knowledge to survive the following day. Stay tuned for harrowing thunderstorms, merging rivers, and muddy islands! Yukon Gold: Part Two coming soon. Or whenever I feel like it.

*around half of the above photos (the good ones) were taken by Brian.