Mountain Hero

My friend Olivier organized a group trip up the Mountain Hero trail on Montana Mountain, just outside of Carcross, Yukon.  I'm often tramping through the woods with only my dog for companionship and I have to say that snowshoeing with a group made for a nice change of pace.

I'd never been up the Mountain Hero trail before and I wasn't sure what to expect.  Not knowing if I'd have an opportunity to use it, I brought my plastic toboggan for the ride down, just in case.

The trail started off by meandering under the posts and cables of an old mining gondola system. It was a steady climb upwards after that.  The poplars transitioned into spruce, which transitioned into balsam, which transitioned into spruce, and then into nothing but the shortest of alpine scrub (birch, blueberries, etc.)


The trail has some great views of Tagish Lake.


And the oddest looking spruce cones...


I've never seen them stripped down on a tree like that!  Maybe this guy did it...


The sun was bright and the sky was blue - not that you can tell in this picture.  I still haven't got this new little camera worked out.  I miss my old one.


The treeline ends abruptly.  By this point, I was getting pretty excited about the tobogganing potential.


The top of the ridge revealed kilometres of fantastic hiking country and I know that I'll be going back.



I didn't get any pictures of the ride down because, well, it was all a bit of a blur.  With the exception of the occasional level spots along the trail, it was a steady ride down the snowshoe-packed, bobsled-track-like trail.  For nearly forty minutes of downhill flight, I dragged my hands in the powder along the sides of the trail to control my direction and slow myself down.  Although I came close on a couple of occasions, I never hit a tree.  It was great!

And, because I had been exerting arm muscles that I don't normally use over an extended period of time, I could barely lift a dinner plate the next day.  That part wasn't do great.

And yet, I would totally do it again.  But I'd wear a helmet this time.  Just in case.

Thanks for the invite, Olivier!

Getting the in-laws out of the house...

OK, so that title sounds worse than it really is.

My in-laws are here for the holidays and everyone is experiencing a bit of cabin fever. To help alleviate the symptoms, a road trip was prescribed. My in-laws and I hopped into the car for a drive down to balmy Skagway, Alaska.

It was -28^oC (-18F) when we started off in the morning darkness and stayed that way for most of the trip. We stopped frequently for pictures as the sun rose, though we never actually saw the sun because of the ever-present clouds.

Moon over Bennett Lake.

The new greeter at the entrance to historic downtown Carcross. Go on and lick it. I double dare ya! I triple dog dare ya!!!

Downtown Carcross and the train bridge over the Nares River.

The road wasn't in the greatest shape, but it wasn't awful, either. With a somewhat reduced speed, it was still very driveable. Slowing down also meant that I was less likely to plow into the thousands of little birds that were nibbling sand and gravel off the highway, or the moose that was hanging out on the road just over a rise.

Just one of the many hundreds of ice falls along the way.

Icy goodness.

It always surprises me how quickly the drive passes. It's only a couple of hours, but it seems so much faster.

The Alaska/Yukon border.

We're goin' that-a-way!

During our descent toward the salty water of the Lynn Canal, we watched the readings on the car's thermometer leap upwards to -4^oC (25F). Oh, yeah, we thought, it's going to be so nice and warm!

Downtown Skagway during quieter times.

We were so very wrong about the temperature. The dampness and wind shooting down into the valley from the north made it feel even colder than it did in Whitehorse. It made wandering around downtown fairly uncomfortable, so most of our exploring was done from the warmth of the car.

The small boat harbour, where some diehard boaters (or live-ins) were working on their vessels.

Ice build-up.

Because our actual visit to Skagway was so short, I thought it might be fun to check-out Dyea (pronounced dye-EE). I hadn't been and had heard it was very much worth the trip.

It was.

Our first stop along the way there was a lookout over Skagway.

My in-laws at the lookout.

Downtown Skagway from another perspective.

The docks and the Lynn Canal.

I enjoyed most of the views at the lookout, but not all of them.

Yeah. Classy. Or Lazy. I can't figure out which.

The outhouse was worse.

We continued on to Dyea, stopping frequently to take in the scenery and wildife.

Looking down the Lynn Canal again.

Clear water.

Abundant bird life.

Dyea is located at the end of Taiya Inlet. If you want to hike the famous Chilkoot Trail, that's the place to start. Over a century ago, it was a booming place as the Klondike Stampeders rushed to get to the gold fields around Dawson City. The stampeders were boated into the shallow, sandy/muddy inlet at low tide, where they rushed to unload their gear and get it to shore before the tide came back in. It must have been chaos.

Taiya Inlet at low tide.

As we drove up the inlet, we saw about a dozen seals but they were always too far away to get a really decent shot.

We drove out onto the tidal flats, an area that was once underwater but is now climbing (fairly rapidly, geologically) in elevation thanks to glacial rebound and plate tectonics.

Looking inland from the tidal flats.

It was starting to snow heavily and, not knowing what it would be like through the pass and at the Summit, we started to head back - but not before a quick stop at the old Dyea villiage site. The untrained eye could never spot the historic Tlingit presence in the area and likely few would realize that there was once a booming tent town there, either. A few clues have been left behind, however.

If you look closely (and follow the signage), there are collapsed buildings, nearly gone. Pits and other holes. Discarded footwear. Bits of fencing. Rows of trees that were once planted as part of a Main Street beautification project. The trees on the old townsite are so tall and stately it's hard to believe that they weren't even there a century ago.

When the White Pass route out of Skagway opened up, the focus shifted and there was no longer a need for a townsite at Dyea. It died almost as quickly as it was born.

Tellingly enough, the last remaining false front (a wooden structure that was placed in front of a wall-tent to give it a feeling of permanence) belonged to the real-estate office.

A view of the present through a window from the past.

The snow was really coming down and dusk was approaching. It was time to return home, but not before one more glimpse of the seals.




Cabin fever somewhat alleviated, we returned happy to the milder-feeling colder temperatures of Whitehorse.

A Weekend on the Land Yacht

There isn't much water in the lakes. It's normal for the levels to be low in the lull between break-up and when the snow starts melting out of the mountains, but not this low. Even long-time Yukoners are amazed at how little water this is. Notwithstanding, this weekend we prepped the boat and decided to drive off in search of a useable boat launch.

Our search took us down the South Klondike Highway toward Carcross. We pulled up to the Carcross Desert just in time for lunch.

The Carcross Desert

It was beautifully sunny and warm out. I relaxed on the warm sand while Halia got as dirty as she possibly could. Jade wanted to explore which warmed the cockles of my heart.




While we wandered off to do some exploring, Fawn took a few moments to celebrate some "alone time".

As we walked through the desert, Jade, Halia, and I reveled in the feeling of sand on our bare feet and admired the variety of little desert wildflowers. By the time we returned, Fawn had spread out a blanket of a nice picnic lunch.

After lunch we drove into Carcross. The boat launched in Carcross looked fine and, although the river level between Bennett Lake and Tagish Lake was low, it was navigable. In the end, though, we decided not to launch there. Although our outboard was purchased new last year, it was defective. The dealer replaced the powerhead but we didn't want to test the rebuilt outboard on a river with a bridge directly downstream. When you've got sails for backup it's easier to get out of trouble on a lake than a river.

We all piled back into the van and drove out to the six-mile river between Tagish Lake and Marsh Lake.

The Tagish Lake boat launch was swarming with boat trailers and boaters trying to launch their boats. It was the only useable boat launch around - at least for those with smaller boats. A sandbar just off the end of the launch made me think twice about launching our longer boat. We spent some time hanging around the Tagish campground and decided to continue around the Southern Lakes scenic route.

We explored the Marsh Lake marina (which I already knew wasn't useable because of the low water) just because it's a pretty spot and we knew the kids would enjoy throwing rocks into the water for Nanuq. From there, it was back into the van to investigate another boat launch further down Marsh Lake. Again, I knew the water was still too low to launch, but it's nice to see the launches and understand their advantages and disadvantages.

At the Marsh Lake launch there were a bunch of drunken boaters preparing to take their boats out of the water. They were stumbling around on the rocks and speaking too loudly and I felt a sense of satisfaction when one of them fell into the cold water and the rest got soaked by a sudden rain shower. They weren't having much fun anymore.

We left the boat launch for the short drive to the Marsh Lake campground. The place was packed! We towed the boat through the campground, eliciting more than a few stares. With no small amount of luck, we managed to snag campsite number one, right along the beach. The boat backed in easily.

By this point, we knew we weren't going to get the boat into the water for the weekend - but it wasn't a total bust. When we first looked into getting a MacGregor, it was because we couldn't go canoeing or hiking like we used to. With one toddler and another child on a special diet that makes being away from refrigeration next to impossible, I was lamenting our inability to get out and explore. Fawn suggested purchasing a camper trailer. I balked at the idea, not liking the idea of spending all of our time camping in campgrounds or tied to road systems. The sailboat was a better-than-compromise that would allow us to explore some hard-to-reach places, but still allow us to have all of the amenities of a camper trailer. And, I pointed out at the time, "If we can't get out sailing, we can always use the sailboat as a camper trailer!"

And that's exactly what we did.

Our camper trailer! Much more bear-resistant than your average camping trailer.

Some people spend half-a-million dollars on their "land yachts". But ours actually floats.

Hot water and a sink for doing the dishes. Does it get any more luxurious?

After settling in, we went off to explore Army Beach. To add to the adventure, we had a little creek to cross.

Jade wandered off to visit some kids who were building a city of sand castles...


... while I wandered off to look at the scenery through my beloved ship's binoculars. Halia took to drawing in the sand...

 
...and Jade joined in, demonstrating her artistic abilities (that's a five-legged octopus).



Nanuq, meanwhile, chased his ball through the mud alongside the creek.



Before long, it was time for bed. Jade was a little angel and crawled right into her berth. Halia, on the other hand, was overtired and refused to stay still for a single moment long enough to lie down. Tackling the squirming, screaming child in shifts, we eventually got her to fall asleep in the unfamiliar setting. I suspect that, had we been rocking on the water, it would have taken mere minutes to get her to sleep.

Morning rolled around, wet and overcast. We rolled out of our beds, had breakfast, and got dressed to explore the soggy wonderland. The first sight that greeted my eyes as I stuck my head out of the companionway was four glowing white swans swimming just off the beach. They were honking happily at the sun as it burned its way through the clouds.







Not surprisingly, the kids loved playing on the beach, picking up shells and throwing rocks and a tennis ball for the dog. Jade was fascinated by all of the swans and variety of other waterfowl - and the swishing sound that her rain suit made when she walked.

"Swish! Swish!"

Getting ready for another throw.

Counting shells.

We spent most of the morning out on the beach. Although the day started off cool and wet, it wasn't long before the clouds moved on and the sun beat down strong, drying everything off. It felt great.

Feelin' great.

"Throwing rocks for the dog to chase" is the kind of game that provides endless hours of entertainment for everyone.

The rocky area of the beach provided a new source of entertainment for the kids. Bugs! All sorts of great little bugs were hiding on and under the rocks! There'll be more on that in another entry.

After the morning's adventures, we returned to the boat for a delicious lunch in the sun and then stowed everything away for our next adventure of the day.

On to our next adventure.

We drove a few kilometers down the road to the blue bridge that crosses the Yukon River. Our loop was almost complete. Our mission at the blue bridge was three-fold: Explore the locks that will, one day, let us boat into the southern lakes from Schwatka Lake right in Whitehorse, give Halia the chance to have her afternoon nap, and explore for a geocache that I knew was somewhere in the area.

With a little bit of luck and intuition (because I hadn't brought my GPS with me), Jade and I found the cache! Here is Jade, proudly displaying the kooshie ring that we traded for from the "treasure box".

The "cache prize".

Meanwhile, Halia, who had quickly taken to her new accommodations, was sound asleep.


In the end, it was a great weekend of not-sailing, checking out and dreaming of all the places we'll go this summer when the lakes are ready for us.

It shouldn't be long now.