The side-trip to Whitehorse in Canada’s Yukon Territory was a last-minute decision, but boy was I glad that I headed up for the Interior. In particular, the 100-mile Klondike Highway ride from Skagway to Whitehorse, paralleling the White Pass Trail of the 1897-98 Klondike Gold Rush, was superb to say the least.

This being the end of the season, I was the lone passenger on the motorcoach, but Henry the driver was good company and acted as tour guide as well. Plus I could scream “stop” wherever I wanted, although I did exercise considerable restraint (les he got a heart
attack), and shot most of my pictures whilst on the move.

The road route to the White Pass Summit mirrors the path of the White Pass Railway,
a roundtrip I had taken from Skagway the previous day. In fact, one could catch glimpses of the distinctive train chugging away, across the chasm, which was pretty neat.

I was still struck by the sense of wonder at having been on both sides of the valley when we reached the stretch of “no-man’s land” between the US and Canadian checkpoints.
The luscious forested terrain had transformed into a startlingly surreal vista resembling a moonscape! At last, I got a clear look of the glowing alpine lakes and stunted ancient trees dotting the rocky landscape, which I had missed on the railway ride where the summit views had been obliterated by fog. I was left gaping by this stunning yet desolate sight. The out-of-the-world images stuck long after we left the Canadian customs point at Fraser, where the highway cut a slice of British Columbia before extending into Yukon Territory.

So now we were in Canada, one of my favourite countries, especially in autumn.
The ride was very smooth despite the many twists and curves and up-and-downs.
And simply beautiful.

I was treated to a running video of spectacular scenery – snow-capped mountains and
hills awash in resplendent golden hues dotted by green pines with lovely glacier-polished silver cliffs and slopes. Added to the excitement was the occasional wildlife spotting, like a white-tailed deer that we saw scurrying into the bush. Henry had an interesting theory
about squirrels scampering across the road, that they time it purposely just when
vehicles are coming headlong at them so that they have cover from swooping
eagles! Funny sounding but makes sense.

Then there were the pristine blue glacial lakes, decorated by the odd islet and presenting really gorgeous views. These are actually the headwaters of the great Yukon River. With the dreamy serene beauty before me, I almost forgot that we were cruising on the gruelling White Pass Trail that was followed by tens of thousands of stampeders as they made their way to the Yukon River at Whitehorse for the final leg of their journey to Dawson City.

Indeed, we passed by Carcross (or originally, Caribou Crossing), a quaint historic town at the edge of Lake Bennett, which has a gold rush general store and other visitor amenities, and an unusual patch of desert.

Nearby Emerald Lake cast a mysterious glow, apparently due to
blue-green light waves reflecting from the white sediment at the bottom of the lake.

This was such a pleasant drive that I wished it would never end, although the stampeder of old must have had the reverse sentiment. Two rolls of film later, the sight of the
approaching Grey Mountain signaled, regretfully, the end of the journey.

For I had arrived at Whitehorse, the Capital of Yukon, also named by some as the Wilderness City, given its gold rush roots and its establishment with the completion of the White Pass & Yukon Railway. Today Whitehorse continues as a transportation centre for passengers and freight for the entire Yukon. For tourists, the city, nestled on the banks
of the famed Yukon River and surrounded by mountains and clear mountain lakes, is
a real treat to visit. I especially like its unpretentiousness and small-town “lived-in” atmosphere, after the touristy-ness of the Alaskan ports.

After checking in at the excellent and unusually named Hide on Jeckell Guesthouse, I
went about to explore the place starting with the nearby S.S. Klondike National Historic Site. Here lies a specimen of the sternwheelers that used to ply the mighty Yukon River.
In fact, the S.S Klondike was the largest of them all. But it still sank in 1936 and was rebuilt the following year using the original machinery.

Other places of interest include the Visitor Reception Centre where there are audiovisual presentations and Yukon exhibits, the MacBride Museum offering Gold Rush exhibits, native cultures, natural history and geology collections, the Transportation Museum housing the conventional, and non-conventional, transportation artifacts used in the north, and the Beringia Interpretive Centre with impressive life-size ice age exhibits such as the Woolly Mammoth, the Giant Steppe Bison and the Giant Beaver.

But nothing beats the wonderful access to the great outdoors here, at least to me. There is a multitude of hikes that one can do in the vicinity, such as the Grey Mountain and Miles Canyon areas. However, given my lack of transport and the slim chances of hitchhiking
on a slow weekday, I could only opt for the river trails from downtown.

It proved to be a most lovely walk in the woods on the riverbanks, especially with the autumn foliage and colours that never fail to thrill me and got me into a
leave-picking mode.

The trail follows the river upstream towards the hatchery so I had a close look at the
flowing manes of charging white horses which the city was named after, even though the famed White Horse Rapids – the greatest peril on the gold rush trail of ’98 – had
calmed down quite a bit with the building of the hydro-electric dam in 1958.

All too soon the river trail ended at the hatchery and dam. The salmon season was already over so it was a “fish-less” Longest Fish Ladder in the World that I saw, but the Whitehorse Dam was great and must have been a challenge for kayakers and
canoeists in the summer.

Wandering further up a steep sandy dune, I got to a clearing with an exquisite view
of Schwatka Lake reservoir where I could watch small floatplanes landing
and taking-off. Cool.

I was told that Miles Canyon lay just beyond the far-off tip of Schwatka Lake, but that I would need wheels to get there. So I could only walk inland on my own two feet which was not bad at all except for the tiring ups-and-downs on a sandy trail, which I was to realize
later was meant for motorbikes!

Nonetheless, the route was pleasant with rolling hills and a smattering of small lakes and ponds aptly called Hidden Lakes which I gathered from the map. T’was here in the tranquil surroundings that I enjoyed my picnic lunch.

There is a lot more to Whitehorse and the Interior that I have not visited. Fellow travelers told me of the scenic grandeur of the Kluane National Park and the charms of Atkin. I did not have time to go up to Dawson City either, the gold seekers’ final destination. And the persistently grey skies meant that I never got to witness the famous aurora borealis
or Northern Lights (although I did watch a filmlet on it on the ferry).

But one can never see it all. And I am grateful for the things that I did manage to catch, and the nice people I met, including a pair of travelling sisters from Canada whom I kept bumping into, who were excellent company and gave many a lift to "transport-less" me.
So it was that in Whitehorse, my penultimate destination, that I spent musing over my hits and misses for this odyssey that began in Seattle. Perhaps not unlike many an
adventurer who came by here over a century ago, when he took stock of his gains
and losses – whether he struck rich beyond his wildest dreams, or simply
became the wiser for having partook in the last grand adventure.

Inside Passage       Ketchikan/Sitka               Juneau                       Skagway © Ong Hwee Yen 2003

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