After breakfast which we ate at 4pm on our body clocks (8 hours ahead), we took advantage of the swimming pool and jacuzzi before heading off into southern British Columbia. The Rough Guide to Canada described Maple Ridge as “ranching country, its streets full of pick up trucks, cowboy boots and Stetsons.” I think they must have all been attending one of their cowboy churches because we didn’t see one.

I thought that it would be a simple drive to Hope on Highway 7 (Lougheed Highway) following the north bank of the Fraser River, but shortly after leaving town there was a diversion with no further diversion signs. I followed my nose, we eventually ended up in Mission and rejoined the Highway. It was an attractive drive under cloudy blue skies and through miles of green spruce forest with a few lakes to skirt around. There was still snow on the mountain slopes and a pass we crossed and lots of signs reminding drivers to put chains on their tyres between October and April.

We arrived in Hope (158km east of Vancouver) around lunchtime and stopped for a picnic on the quiet main street by a park. The first impression was of the endless animal wood carvings everywhere. Then we noticed one of a sheriff that looked like Brian Dennehy, the Canadian actor. Nearby was one of Sylvester Stallone as ‘Rambo’. It turned out that the Rambo ‘First Blood’ movie had been filmed in the town which still looked like a quiet pleasant place to live despite Rambo having wasted the place in spectacular fashion at the end of the movie. Hope lies at the confluence of the Fraser and Coquihalla rivers where the early pioneers named it after the phrase “Abandon all hope…” Nowadays, it is also the convergence of the Trans- Canada Highway, Highway 3 and the Coquihalla Highway, all outside town and the centre seemed very unspoilt. We liked Hope a lot.

Here, we also spotted our first strangely shaped ‘litter bin’ which was slanted. I couldn’t work out how to open the top. These were ‘bear proof’ and you placed your hand under a small cover to release the top. We would see these everywhere on our trip, but it was a bit embarrassing that it was also “Bob proof”.

We took Highway 5 (Coquihalla Highway) north and passed a vehicle carrying five of the largest tyres we had ever seen, let alone on the back of a truck. A large yellow banner said ‘Oversize Vehicle’. No shit. We passed though snow-capped mountains, some forested, some bare granite outcrops and joined the 97C to West Kelowna. By now, it had started to rain which took the shine off the 135 km long Lake Okanagan which had been our destination. Crossing a bridge over the lake into Kelowna itself, we found a busy metropolis, the biggest place since Vancouver. Okanagan is a fjord lake that has been carved out by repeated glaciations to a maximum depth of 232 metre (761 ft).

Kelowna (“grizzly bear” in an Indian language) is famous for its fruit, growing virtually all Canada’s apricots, half its pears and plums and a third of its apples. The impressive lake however is famous for its mysterious lake creature or ‘monster’ called Ogopogo which is to Kelowna what Nessie is to Loch Ness. This yet to be identified cyprid reputedly resides in the lake’s depths. From all the accounts of the ‘sightings’ I read, it seems more like large waves on the lake created by wind. They did have a ‘model’ Opopogo in the park by the lake which was a photo opportunity before we got out of town as quickly as possible. I’m sure the lake looks stunning in sunshine, but on an overcast rainy day, I could have been looking at a large loch in Scotland (on an overcast rainy day!).

We made for Vernon up the road to a comfortable Days Inn Hotel. It was really just to break up the journey to Lake Louise. One issue that I hadn’t anticipated was buying petrol. In Canada, you now put a credit card into the pump and it offers you various amounts of petrol. On my first visit to a garage, I was thinking ‘how do I know how much to put in? I just want to fill it up’. I was to find out that if you used less than the amount you chose, it was automatically refunded to your card. Der! After that, I could choose for example $50 and only fill up with $26 of petrol.

Monday May 12

It was still drizzling and overcast and never got above 5’c as we set off for Revelstoke up Highway 97a North passing lakes surrounded by forested mountains covered in low lying cloud. We came across our first major set of rapids which had a short suspension bridge across it to attract family visits. ‘Crazy Creek’ itself was impressive and we could view it from the road. We drove by the side of the impressive Mara Lake and could see the bright red ’Hummingbird’ hotel complex on a peninsula called Swansea Point miles away. The water was calm enough to allow for reflections of the forested sides.

Joining the Trans-Canadian Highway (Highway 1), we rolled into Revelstoke which I had last seen in 1986. While ‘working my way’ around the world, I had been hitchhiking from Vancouver heading for Banff. I was picked up by someone who had won a contract to pedestrianise a section of the main street in Revelstoke. He offered me a job. I found a local campsite to base myself, but a woman called Debbie Roberts on the ‘road crew’ offered me a room with her house with her partner Mark. When I offered ‘rent’, Mark said ‘just make sure there is a case of beer in a fridge at all times’. Revelstoke, then had a population of 9,000 and apparently five strip joints. It was also next to the impressive Mount Revelstoke National Park. In the weeks that I spent there, I was introduced to Debbie and Mark’s friends and was ‘adopted’ into the town. I played softball for a team, painted someone’s house and just enjoyed the friendly drinking and social life under glorious June and July sunshine. When I left someone heading to Calgary arranged to give me a lift there to get me on my way to Toronto.

Thirty eight years later, my work was still there downtown, but there had been additions and changes. At one end were now two brick pillars and large carved bear statues. A bandstand had been built and the old Art Deco cinema had been rejuvenated and looked lovely. All the stonework I had helped with was still there, a little worn in places but I could remember the sweat and toil involved. There seemed to be more to attract the tourists such as the Railway Museum and Dam. We popped into a coffee shop nearby and chatted to the owner. The population was now 11,000 but it still retained a small town feel like Hope.

When planning the trip, I had hoped that good weather would show off Revelstoke and Glacier National Parks but the rain returned. I remembered Mount Revelstoke (1938m) standing majestically outside the town. The clouds lowered over the snowy peaks and forests and it was a miserable drive along the Trans Canadian highway in rain, sleet and occasional snow. En route, we saw our first ‘Be aware of Bears’ road sign. Glacier National Park has 147 glacial masses and the Illecillewaet Glacier ‘is easily seen from the Trans Canadian Highway’ (Rough Guide). But not today. We just peered through raindrops on the windscreen. The only thing of note was Rogers Pass (1321m) which allowed the Canadian Pacific Railway to link both sides of Canada.

Glacier National Park led into Yoho National Park. It still lay on the western side of the Continental Divide from Lake Louise and Yoho is an Indian word meaning ‘wonder’. Today we wondered where the “awesome grandeur of its mountains, lakes and waterfalls’ (Rough Guide) were. Nevertheless, we detoured from Kicking Horse Pass on the highway to see Emerald Lake. Despite the overcast clouds and drizzle, we could still make out the emerald coloured water but not the surrounding President Mountain range. The glacial waters refracted the light in a vibrant display of colour. The BanffBlog.com said “the colour alone would be enough to move you, but the surrounding landscape leaves you speechless”. But not today. Here, we also saw our first Avalanche warning signs and information. We would see these throughout our road trip.

Ironically, as the rain reduced, we also drove through the Columbia Wetlands. An information board told us that the wetlands are the source of the Columbia, the largest river flowing into the Pacific Ocean in North America, providing a critical habitat for fish, birds and other wildlife in its floodplain.

After passing by the town of Golden, not looking so golden today, the rain finally stopped as we entered the province of Alberta and pulled into the Lake Louise ‘village’ and checked into our most expensive accommodation called the Lake Louise Inn (£140) without breakfast - read and weep). It was either that or the even more wallet shrinking Chateau Lake Louise by the side of the lake. Our compact and comfortably warm room backed onto the heated indoor pool and whirlpools. Much of the ‘village’ was still closed this early in the season. After checking in, we drove 4km and walked up to view the lake.

Lake Louise known as the ‘gem of the Rockies’ was located in a UNESCO World Heritage Site (hence the prices) and is renowned for its natural beauty. I had previously visited it with my parents in the summer of 1981, and we had canoed around the beautifully turquoise coloured lake surrounded by the majestic snow-capped Rockies. It was a bit of a surprise to find a frozen lake covered in ice and the mountains covered in low lying cloud. This was the final nail in the coffin for a day that I thought would entrance Wendy and her first look at the Rockies. As it was, she was still impressed with everything she had seen and even said we should avoid the ‘Legends’ restaurant and survive on sandwiches and snacks in the room to offset the cost. Good girl! We had put our watches forward an hour when entering Alberta.

Tuesday May 13

What a difference a day makes. We awoke to brilliant blue skies and sunshine and returned to Lake Louise which looked very different. The ice was still there, but the clouds had cleared, and we could see the sheer mountains and vast glaciers at the other end. This was more like it. The road to Moraine Lake which is also fabulous, was however, still closed due to snow so we moved on.

We were now in Banff National Park and would today, care of the Icefields Parkway, probably did the most scenic drive of our road trip. The Rough Guide agreed that “The splendour of the Icefields Parkway (Hwy 93) can hardly be overstated; a 230km road from Lake Louise to Jasper through the heart of the Rockies, it ranks as one of the world’s best drives. Its unending succession of huge peaks, immense glaciers, iridescent lakes, wildflower meadows, wildlife and forests – capped by the stark grandeur of the Columbia Icefield – can be almost overwhelming.” The present highway was opened in 1940 as part of a Depression-era works programme.

Our first sight just 32km after starting, was that of the impressive Crowfoot Glacier. It fed the Bow River which we followed for much of the day. We came across a lake (maybe Herbert Lake?) with its tranquil waters a reflective mirror for the surrounding snowy peaks and one was one of the most spectacular photos we took. Its dizzying blue colour was created from the glacier melt. This surpassed the more famous Bow Lake, which like Lake Louise was still frozen but looked just as impressive with its expansive carpet of ice surrounded by the mountains.

40km from Lake Louise, we crossed Bow Summit. At 2069m, this is the highest point crossed by any Canadian highway. Just beyond, we made a 15 minute clamber up a snow and ice filled trail, past snow laden trees for a view of Peyto Lake “one of the finest vistas in the Rockies” (RG). However, like Lake Louise, this lake was also frozen so there was no sign of the dazzling blue water, created by glacial flour which stays suspended in the water to create the bright turquoise hue. Coming back down the icy trail was more difficult and my bum hit the ground a few times.

The hamlet of Saskatchewan Crossing (77km from Lake Louise), was the lowest point on the highway dropping 700m from Bow Summit with its high subalpine region into a montane environment with its own vegetation and wildlife. Not indicated in our guidebook, we came across Mistaya Lake, which like Herbert Lake earlier was another superb mirror of the surrounding peaks and forests and another set of wonderful photos. We couldn’t work out why some lakes were frozen while others were stunning reflectors of the scenery.

A hairpin climb up the ‘Big Hill’ opened up yet more panoramic angles on the vast mountain spine stretching back to Lake Louise. We climbed over Howse Pass (1539m) and then the Sunwapta Pass (2023m) 122km from our start, which marked the boundary between the Banff and Jasper National Parks and the watershed of two rivers - one flowing into the Atlantic, the other into the Arctic Ocean. Here we paid an admission fee to enter Jasper National Park which is the largest National Park in Canada, spanning 11,000 square kilometres.

Somewhere before the passes, there had been a recent avalanche. Two massive chunks of rock had tumbled down the cliffs and blocked one lane and the another was on the edge of the other lane. A workman directed the traffic through the obstacles. We made two passes through to get photos and chatted to the workman who said they would probably have to get a crane to move them. He had never seen such big chunks of rock fall like this.

Just beyond Sunwapta Pass and covering an area of 325 square kilometres was the Columbia Icefield, the largest collection of ice and snow in the entire Rockies and the biggest glacial area in the northern hemisphere outside the Arctic Circle. This was crawling with tourists doing various activities. We had driven over a glacier in Iceland and then descended to walk around inside it (a kilometre long tunnel had been dug out of the ice) so we stopped to take in the views of the Athabasca Glacier but didn’t bother with a surface tour.

After the glacier, we came across our first wildlife. Two long horned mountain goats were walking down the road. As we stopped to let them pass and take photos, we noticed another on a narrow ledge ten to fifteen metres above the road. We had no idea how it had got there or how it would get off, but I’m sure it eventually did. Further on, Tangle Creek Falls were an impressive set of multi-tiered waterfalls by the side of the highway. With all the spring water, we saw the 48m tall falls at their best. The final sights were two sets of waterfalls. A 1 km gravel trail took us to the Sunwapta Falls whose stepping waterfall had carved a deep limestone gorge out of the rock. Further on up the road were the 23 metre Athabasca Falls. The powerful river poured over a layer of hard quartzite and had cut into softer limestone beneath carving intricate features, potholes and a short canyon.

We pulled into Jasper for some groceries. With a population less than 5,000 it still had a small town feel. I remember watching the Jasper rodeo in 1981. It grew up as a railroad town for the Grand Truck Pacific Railroad in 1924 but is now the tourist centre for Jasper National Park. It had recently become famous for its wildfire in 2024 that destroyed nearly a third of the town. Parks Canada said “During the late afternoon of July 22, 2024, a fire was reported near the Jasper Transfer Station. Thirty minutes later, another wildfire was reported near Kerkeslin Campground. Another ten minutes later, two more wildfires were reported near campgrounds south of Jasper. Wind gusts 20 to 30 kilometres an hour merged the three wildfires south of town into one and became too big for firefighters alone to handle. Within the first hours after the wildfires started the combined area of the fires grew to over 6,000 hectares (60 square kilometres). With flames 30-50 metres high, new fires starting up to 500 metres ahead of the fire, and enormous smoke columns, all aerial and ground suppression efforts had limited success. These fires became the Jasper Wildfire”.

Discovering this, I had assumed that accommodation would be tight, so opted to book a hotel in Hinton 80 km away. As we left Jasper on Highway 16, we could see acres of burnt forest with just blackened tree trunks left standing. Wildfires are really a rejuvenating process for forests and nature, even if the results look horrific.

We spotted our first elk by the side of the road followed by a stunning small aqua green lake (Talbot Lake?) and then a mountain goat. The Lakeview Inn and Suites would be our home for two nights. Hinton with a population of just under 10,000 was much larger than I imagined. Originally another railroad town, it was now more famous for it’s pulp industry.

At the local Walmart, I learnt another Canadian foible. Back at the Maple Creek Walmart I had bought 2 x 12 cans of flavoured water and paid a deposit on the tins. I took back 12 empty tins to this Walmart to get my deposit back. I was informed by customer service that they did not take the empties. “But I paid the deposit to Walmart”. “You have to take them to the ‘Deposit’. Eh? “So where is the Deposit?” “Do you know Hinton?” “No.” “Well, um”. I left the tins with them and told them to deal with it. Ironically, as we returned to our hotel on the edge of town, I noticed the ‘Deposit’. It was closed. After that episode I sacrificed the deposit and put the tins on recycling bins.

Wednesday May 14

I had built in a few places where we could have two nights to break up the driving. After an excellent breakfast, we set off back towards Jasper with a different vista of the snow-capped Rockies. We passed another huge elk and just before Jasper paid our daily National Park entrance fee and turned south onto the quiet Maligne Lake road which took us through kilometres of the wildfire damage and then onto two lakes. It was really an excuse to try and see some more wildlife, but a mountain goat was the only thing to appear and pose for photos on the 100 km return journey. Maligne Canyon which attracts the tourists was still closed because of the fire so Medicine Lake was our first stop. This lake is apparently “picture perfect” (RG) but we found it half empty. The levels of water fluctuate due to the fact that with no surface outlet, the lake fills and empties through lake bed sink holes into the world’s largest cave system. When the springs freeze in winter, the lake drains and eventually tops up in the spring. It was obviously just starting to refill. Maligne Lake at the end of the sealed road was 22km long and the largest lake in the Rockies and surrounded by snow covered mountains.

Returning to Jasper, we headed west on the Yellowhead Highway (Highway 16) to the Yellowstone Pass (1131m) which was originally a fur trading route across the Rockies and then used by the railways especially the enormous freight trains with over a hundred containers and engines at both ends. We saw freight trains everywhere, some with two layers.

Mount Robson Provincial Park started at the British Columbian border where a sign said “Time Zone: Move watch back one hour”. We drove through Mount Robson Pass and past the long thin Moose Lake. It was a lovely drive to Mount Robson (3954m), the highest peak in the Canadian Rockies and surrounded by scenery that equalled anything in the region. Half of Mount Robson was covered in cloud, so we never saw its peak. However, we did see much of it’s colossal south face with its sheer rise of 3100m. It was first climbed in 1913 and still considered a dangerous challenge.

At the (closed) Visitors Centre, there were a couple of information boards detailing the plight of the Canadian Japanese during World Wat Two. Paraphrasing Wikipedia “In January 1942, the Canadian government used the War Measures Act to brand Japanese-Canadians enemy aliens and to categorize them as security threats. There were 20,881 Japanese placed in internment camps and road camps in British Columbia. Three quarters of them were already citizens in Canada. The property and homes of Japanese Canadians living in the province were seized and sold off without their consent in 1943. The funds were used to pay for their internment. They also had to "pay rent" for living in the internment shacks that they were assigned. Mobility restrictions were finally lifted in 1949”.

We weren’t that far from the town of Valemount where we would stay later in the trip. Returning to Hinton, just past Jasper, we passed herds of deer and goats (50+) which grazed by the side of the road and was a marvellous sight as they stopped the traffic and the other tourists trying to take photos.

Thursday May 15

Wendy had been sick overnight and we had a late start of 10.30 under alternatively sunny and cloudy skies. We were heading for Dawson Creek through Alberta and the start of the Alaska Highway. We used Highway 40, the ‘Scenic Route to Alaska’ to take us through Grande Cache up to Grande Prairie. There were long stretches of straight road with forests on either side and glimpses of the Rockies. A sign indicated a ‘Caribou Corridor’ and we spotted two and one deer. Later on, another sign later indicated a ‘Caribou migration in progress’ but we saw no more. The gradual undulating road starting to cross the plains. It was a driving day of about five hours and 460 km. RG called it a ‘mind numbing’ journey but we were always alert to potential wildlife.

After Grande Prairie, (where we didn’t bother with the Phillip J. Currie Dinosaur Museum) the only thing of note was at Beaver Lodge with a giant beaver sculpture. The town was actually named after the Beaver Indians who built lodges by the river. For the record, the beaver on the log sculpture was unveiled in 2004. Its measurements are: the beaver is 18ft long, 10ft wide and 10ft high and weighs 1500lbs. The log is 5ft high and 20ft long also weighing 1500lbs. It was the biggest, er, beaver I had ever seen. We rolled into Dawson Creek and checked into the Aurora Park Inn. By now the hotel rooms were starting to blend into each other. The highlight was always finding a fridge and seeing what channels were on the TV.

Friday May 16

Dawson Creek is a remote farming community located in the rolling foothills of the Northern Rockies in the dry and windy prairie land of the Peace River Country. It grew up in World War Two as a rail terminus for the supplies needed to build the Alaska Highway and today with a population of around 13,000 sells itself as ‘Mile O’ and the launching pad of the current Alaska Highway. We took the obligatory photo standing by the ‘Mile O’ indicator near the eye catching tall red grain hopper and a sculpture of an 1940s engineer surveying the road. There were a couple of signs that caught our eye. The first outside a Burger King “Why eat with a clown? Dine a King” putting down MacDonalds. Another was a community event ‘Peace Love and Dueling Pianos’ (even if they couldn’t spell duelling).

Diane Selkirk writing about the Alaska Highway in a BBC Travel article in 2022 said “Winding 1,387 miles through some of North America's most extreme environments, it was the most ambitious construction project since the Panama Canal and built to defend a continent” and called it a “bucket list road trip with jaw dropping scenery.” Until 1930, Alaska was only accessible by boat from the contiguous US and after Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbour in December 1941, a link between the two became more vital in case of further Japanese attack. Dawson Creek was chosen as the start because it was inland enough to prevent enemy aircraft attacking it. “Three months after the attack, thousands of US troops and an armada of heavy equipment arrived by rail at the little blip of a town to begin one of the US' most expensive construction projects of World War Two”. Originally known as the Alaska Military Highway, Alcan or Canadian-Alaskan Military Highway, the stunning $138m (the equivalent of $2.55bn today) feat of engineering is simply called the Alaska Highway today. It took eight months and twelve days to complete and was originally just a gravel road. Its initial military purpose began to fade from memory as soon as the route opened to the public after the war in 1948. An informal system of historic mileposts were developed over the years to denote major stopping points (hence Dawson Creek’s Mile O). We wouldn’t drive its entire length which ends at Delta Junction in Alaska.

We set off in 17’C temperatures and cloudy skies for Fort Nelson 453 km away, making sure our headlights were now on permanently. 30 km north of Dawson Creek and after our first ‘Beware of Moose’ traffic sign, was the 122m long Kiskatinaw Bridge, The three span timber truss bridge has an amazing nine degree curve and was the first wooden curved bridge in Canada. It was built as part of the Alaskan Highway in 1942. You could no longer drive across, but still enjoy it on foot.

It took forty minutes before the benign ridged prairies dropped suddenly into the broad, flat bottomed valley of the Peace River. We stopped in at a supermarket in Fort St John and filled up with plenty of road food. One thing we never got used to was that you couldn’t buy alcohol in supermarkets. You had to go the specific liquor stores. Some of these closed at 6pm so you had to plan ahead if you wanted a drink in the evening. Some of the supermarkets we used were ‘Safeway’. These had died a death in the UK a few decades ago.

There were long straight stretches of road with forests either side. We spotted a large caribou by the side of the road, its fur hanging off in large chunks, as it shed its thick winter coat. After passing through Pink Mountain (226km from Dawson Creek), the RG described the scenery as “immense views of utter wilderness in all directions, the trees as dense as ever, but noticeably more stunted than further south.” We were in the Northern Rockies now.

Fort Nelson welcomed us with a large bear sign. It was named in honour of the British naval hero Horatio Nelson and established by the North West Company in 1805 as a fur-trading post. Due to fires, floods and feuds, Fort Nelson is in its fifth location. It was now a small industrial town of around 3,500 people revolving around the exploitation of the area’s huge natural gas deposits and outside town has the world’s second largest gas-processing plant.

After checking in at the Blue Bell Inn, we visited the Fort Nelson Heritage Centre up the road. From outside it looked like a scrapyard of odds and sods but was a treasure-trove of Alaska Highway history. Marl Brown who worked as a mechanic on the road in the 1950s noticed that original steam shovels, blade graders, tractors and trucks had been abandoned during the construction and were just rusting away. The construction was so fast that they just abandoned anything that wore out. Marl started to collect the debris and it became the start of this museum. Now housed in eight buildings, the museum offered countless displays and artifacts including a large vintage car collection including cars from World War Two. Run by volunteers, it was one of those places where you could have spent hours poking around and finding gems of history. There was even a section of the original ribbon cut at the Dedication Ceremony of the Alaska Highway on November 20 1942. At the local supermarket. We saw a unique traffic sign which warned customers to watch for snowfalls coming off the roof in winter and landing on your head. We had finished our first week and had covered 2639 km.

Saturday May 17

Today we were aiming to reach the Yukon border at Watson Lake 513 km away. It was a comfortable 15’c. A digital traffic sign warned about bison on the road, but we never saw any. The first highlight was seeing our first black bear. It was grazing by the side of the road, and we pulled up to take photos. It didn’t seem bothered by our presence and we spent twenty minutes just watching it until it crossed the road and disappeared into the undergrowth. We spotted two more later on, but they were shy and headed into the forest as soon as we stopped. We were even more thrilled to then come across a black mother bear with her three tiny cubs. As we pulled up to take a photo, some Canadian in a loud pick up truck revved his engine as he went past and scared the mother and cubs back into the forest. “What a c***” we concluded.

We stopped in at one of the most famous places on the Alaska Highway. The Tetsa River Lodge advertised itself as the “Cinnamon Bun Centre of the Galactic Cluster” (Mile 375) which is also a campsite. Inside the spacious log cabin, Gail Andrews the owner, produced two huge sticky buns ($9 each!) to go with our coffee. We sat in the seating area as other tourists popped in for takeaway buns. Someone had left their purse with credit cards. Gail said “That was probably the couple from Illinois who were here two hours ago. They’ll call when they find out.” There was a gas pump outside with inflated prices (because it was in the middle of nowhere and if you needed fuel, you would pay the going rate). On the pump was a sign saying “No Sniveling”.

We were travelling through the Tetsa River Regional Park, over the Summit Pass (1276m) and into the Stone Mountain Provincial Park. We crossed the first of many steel bridges on our road trip. The surfaces were wooden beams or steel mesh which made a buzzing noise as you drove over them. The expansive Summit Lake was frozen. Passing through Toad River (population 60), the snow-capped, dark coloured and bare Northern Rockies loomed ahead like an imposing barrier. This was a very scenic part of the highway, and the information guides said we might see “Stone Sheep, mountain goats, bison, moose, elk, caribou, and white-tailed and mule deer; plus at least seven species of medium-sized carnivores including wolves, coyotes, foxes, grizzly bears, black bears, lynx and wolverines.” Sure enough, five brown stone sheep (that look like mountain goats) appeared on the road.

The 12 kilometre long Mucho Lake, the majority of which, the highway followed, was in the centre of the Mucho Lake Provincial Park and was still partly frozen. The lake displays a perpetually blue hue, the result of copper oxides leached from the bedrock and it stood out vividly against the white snow and ice. The lake lay at an elevation of 820m while the surrounding mountain ranges were over 2000 metres high. Bison then appeared on and by the road in large numbers. We counted forty six today. They were majestic animals moulting their winter coats as they grazed on the grass verges oblivious to the infrequent traffic. It was the first time we had seen ‘wild’ bison up so close. Six mountain goats broke up the endless sighting of bison herds.

We were going to sample the Liard River Hot Springs but the kilometre walk there on boardwalks would be too much for Wendy so we reluctantly moved on past more bison and another black bear that lay on the grass and munched its way though grass and flowers. A sign indicated that we were entering the Yukon as did another black bear. We didn’t realise it, but this part of our journey revealed the most wildlife we saw in any one day. It also included a dead porcupine by the side of the road.

Some facts about the Yukon Territory. The Yukon has a total area of 483,450 square kilometres, including 4,480 square kilometres of freshwater. The majority of the land is forested––281,030 square kilometres. Eighty percent of the Yukon is wilderness, compared to a North and Central American average of forty one percent. The territory encompasses about 4.8% of Canada’s total land area. The Yukon Territory is large enough to hold the states of California, Arizona, Delaware and West Virginia. It became a separate territory within Canda in 1898 as the Klondike gold rush encouraged thousands of prospectors to appear. Yukon has a population of 36,794 people (as compared to that of 1901 when a census put the population at 27,219) and 30,000 of the population live in the capital of Whitehorse. It is the home to fourteen First Nations (Indian tribes) speaking eight different languages. The official Bird is the Raven (we saw a lot of these), official tree is the sub alpine fir and flower, the fireweed. There are approximately 65,000 moose, 10,000 black bear and 4,500 wolves in the Yukon.

We arrived in Watson Lake “Gateway to the Yukon”. RG concluded that “The town isn’t big, but shops, motels and garages have sprung up here to service the traffic” at the two highways of the Alaskan Highway and Robert Campbell Highway. It had a population of 1,133 in 2021. The town is named for Frank Watson, an American-born trapper and prospector, who settled in the area at the end of the 19th century. We checked into the famous Air Force Lodge. When I had originally enquired about booking a room, the owner Michael said to send my credit card details to guarantee a booking. I was a bit worried but went ahead and Michael replied. When we turned up, we found that Michael was a jovial non-stop talking German Canadian who had been in Canada for 32 years and had lots of stories.

His website said that “The Historic Air Force Lodge is the oldest building in the small northern community of Watson Lake, Yukon. It is a heritage structure that has quickly become one of the most attractive and affordable stops along the Alaska Highway. Originally built at the Watson Lake Airport 1942 as a barracks for the pilots flying during Second World War, it was later moved to the town where it stood empty for many years. Then in 1998 the present owner completely and thoroughly refurbished the interior while leaving the exterior structure in its original form. Over the period of two and a half years of pain staking and meticulous craftsmanship the interior became a visitor’s lodge still very true to its wartime functional purpose of barracks, but with many modern features that surpass the highest building standards.” The rooms were compact and the facilities were shared but they were spotless.

We headed off to Watson Lake’s most famous tourist sight, the “Signpost Forest” which is a collection of signs and is one of the most famous of the landmarks along the Alaska Highway. It was started by a homesick American soldier in 1942. He erected a signpost for his hometown: ‘Danville, Illinois. 2835 miles’. Since then, visitors have added their own signs and it is now estimated that there are now more than 100,000. The “Forest” takes up a couple of acres, with huge new panels being constantly added, snaking through the trees. Wikipedia said “There are street signs, welcome signs, signatures on dinner plates, and license plates from around the world”. I liked the sign that said “I’m spending my kids inheritance.” This evening, we had our first meal out a Chinese meal at the New Nugget Chinese Restaurant.

Sunday May 18

We returned to the Sign Post Forest. We had prepared our own sign in the UK and brought it with us. “Wendy and Bob Jack. May 2025. Tegryn, Pembrokeshire, Wales UK 4097 miles” with a Pembrokeshire Fridge magnet stuck on. We found a panel with a space and screwed the sign on, pointing in the appropriate direction. Walking around the endless signs for over an hour, most were from the USA and Canada. I found a few from Europe but none from the UK or Wales. Ours seemed to be a first and we were very chuffed.

We were very excited to finally be in the Yukon. It was a mild 12’c. We filled up at a garage which was just a big tank of petrol rather than a normal pump. Within ten minutes of leaving Watson Lake, we spotted our first black bear by the side of the road and another one further on. We were headed for Whitehorse, the capital of the Yukon 437 km away. The beautiful snowy Northern Rockies continued to dominate the horizon. The road was mostly empty, and we had time to stop and take photos of the small lakes by the side of the road where the spruce forests were reflected in the still water. At Mile 691, we found an interpretive trail/boardwalk that took us down to a pair of attractive low waterfalls on the Rancheria River. We had bigger waterfalls up the road from where we live in Wales.

Between Watson Lake and Teslin, the Alaska Highway dips into British Columbia for about 40 miles, before returning to the Yukon Territory. There were no signs indicating this, just something we spotted on our map. In this section, we lunched by the scenic Swan River with more reflections on the passive water and the Cassiar Mountains in the distance. Soon after, we enjoyed another bear sighting our third today. Cresting a ridge, we noticed a sign that said we were crossing the ‘Continental Divide’. Unlike the one further south which separates water flowing to either the Atlantic or Pacific oceans, this divide is between the Arctic and Pacific oceans.

We could see the Nisutlin Bay Bridge from miles away. At 584 metres (nearly 2,000 ft), its the longest bridge on the Alaska Highway. With its steel trestles arching overhead, the bridge had the feel of driving through a long tunnel of interlaced metal beams. We drove over such bridges all the time during our days in the Yukon.

The small village of Teslin (pop 239) is home to the Teslin Inland Tlingit First Nations and has one of the largest Native populations in Yukon. Much of the community's livelihood revolves around traditional hunting, trapping and fishing. Some of the buildings had beautiful red, white, blue and black Indian motifs covering them. The most famous place here is the George Johnson Museum. The website said of this local Indian who lived here from 1910 onwards “Long before roads reached Teslin, he owned a car and captured life through his camera lens. His photographs document a changing world, offering rare glimpses into Tlingit traditions, community life and the historic construction of the Alaska Highway.” Just north of Teslin lay the 120 km long Lake Teslin where an information board revealed that salmon spawn in this area. They travel 2970 km from the Bearing Sea through all manner of obstacles to reach this spot. The highway followed the entire length of the lake.

Eventually we reached Johnson’s Crossing (Mile 836) where the highway crosses the Teslin River. A number of original vehicles used to build the Alaska Highway had been dumped here. They were just carcasses now. Anything of any use had long been removed.

At Jakes Corner, we took a detour off the Alaska Highway and headed for Taglish on the scenically enjoyable Taglish Road and then to Carcross. We had entered the ‘Southern Lakes’ region of the Yukon. At Carcross, we came across the Carcross Desert at 2.6 square km in size, it is supposedly the smallest in desert in the world but is actually a series of sand dunes and the area's climate is too humid to be considered a true desert. The sand was formed during the last glacial period, when large glacial lakes formed and deposited silt. When the lakes dried, the dunes were left behind.

To head north to Whitehorse, we took the Klondike Highway and stopped at the stunning Emerald Lake. RG said “A layer of marl, a calcium carbonate deposit on the lakebed, and the sunlight hitting it just so, result in a shallow body of water that is startlingly blue and clear, its borders a glowing aqua.” At Whitehorse, we checked into the Stratford Motel for two nights, our second worst hotel of the trip, and did our first laundry in the basement.

Monday May 19

Whitehorse (Mile 918) is the capital of the Yukon and home to more than 30,000 of the region’s 37,000 inhabitants. It is also the centre of the Yukon’s mining and forestry industries and the tourist centre of the Yukon. Although greater Whitehorse spills along the Alaska Highway for several kilometres, the old downtown core is a forty block grid centring on Main Street and 2nd and 4th Avenues. It is framed by three nearby mountain ranges and evolved as a staging post for the Klondike gold prospectors who arrived in 1898 on route to Dawson City. Having braved the Chilkoot Pass from Skagway, Alaska, they had to pause before navigating the Miles Canyon and White Horse rapids up the Yukon River 700km to Dawson City. The completion of the White Pass and Yukon Route Railroad from Skagway to Whitehorse also encouraged people just as the gold rush was petering out in 1900. Fun Fact: In 2011, the World Health Organization ranked Whitehorse Number 1 for the cleanest air in the world.

Our second ‘rest day’ was unfortunately hijacked by torrential rain but we stuck to our itinerary. At the spacious Visitor Centre, we watched a movie about various cultural aspects of the Yukon. One section had a man doing ‘spiritual dancing’. When we came out of the movie, I mentioned this to one of the staff and told her that in the UK “we call that ‘dad-dancing.” Her blank face registered no recognition of the term.

The white painted wooden SS Klondike sternwheeler dominated the entrance to downtown Whitehorse. Launched in 1937, it plied the Yukon River at Whitehorse until 1950 and is one of only two surviving paddle streamers in the Yukon. It took thirty six hours to reach Dawson City and five days to get back to Whitehorse against the current.

Despite the pouring rain, we went to see Miles Canyon. TravelYukon.com said “The Yukon isn’t known for its heat, but that’s what created one of the most beautiful sites in Whitehorse – Miles Canyon. Almost nine million years ago, a rush of basaltic lava spread over a pre-glacial landscape a few kilometres from what is now downtown Whitehorse. A ribbon of fast-moving turquoise water runs between the cliffs that remain”. It looked a lovely area for hiking in better weather.

As we left Whitehorse for the Yukon Wildlife Preserve, we stopped to photograph the Whitehorse Horse Sculpture. Travel Yukon said that “Daphne Mennell created "The Whitehorse Horse" to reflect on how all Yukoners have memories tied up in the capital city. Weighing more than two tonnes and rearing up over three metres, more than 200 Yukoners from around the territory donated pieces of scrap metal for the sculpture…. Installed in 2011 at the top of Two Mile Hill, the rearing horse rises from a wave-like metal swirl over Whitehorse, recalling the frothing rapids that gave the city its name.” It was indeed a formidable piece of sculpture.

Twenty five minutes outside town, we found the Yukon Wildlife Preserve. This is a unique wildlife viewing property featuring 12+ species of northern Canadian mammals in their natural environment. Encompassing over 700 acres with various natural habitats, the wildlife species were spread out around a five km loop. In the pouring rain we took the ninety minute bus tour where we could get out, view and photograph the animals. We started with a herd of Wood Bison which had two newly born calves, then mule deer, elk and mountain goats. Our guide Andrew explained features about the animals and their habits. Then we saw a species we hadn’t heard of, the Muskox. Wikipedia said of them “The muskox is a robust, shaggy mammal native to the Arctic, known for its thick fur and strong musky odour emitted by males during mating season. They are large, stocky animals that can weigh up to 900 pounds and stand between 3.5 to 5 feet at the shoulder…Both males and females possess large curved horns that can reach lengths up to 24 inches.” Andrew told us that they had out-survived woolly mammoths and sabre tooth tigers that had also lived in the Arctic. Wendy described them as looking like ‘evil prehistoric monsters’. We moved on to the white Thin Horn sheep and Woodland Caribou (which we call Reindeer in Europe). We did spot one shy Arctic Fox but failed to see the Canadian lynx and the three moose were obviously taking a day off around the large lake due to the weather. But it was a lovely outing despite getting soaked while on the viewing platforms.

Returning to Whitehorse, we found the famous ‘Klondike Rib and Salmon’ restaurant that looked like a log cabin full of odds and ends. At 3pm, It was empty, having finished lunch and getting ready for the evening session. The venison dishes weren’t ready but they offered us the ‘Bob halibut burger’ which was an enormous plate of delicious fish and chips with salad on a burger bun. Washed down with local beer, desert was ‘Bumbleberry pie’ consisting of apple, rhubarb, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries. Topped with ice cream. Yum.

Downtown Whitehorse is full of fabulous murals on its walls and we spent the rest of the afternoon poking around the streets to find them. We also came across the Old Log Church Museum, built in 1900, it is one of the oldest buildings in Whitehorse. It was closed but the building itself was unique.

Around midnight (when it was still light outside), our smoke alarm went off for no reason at all and kept going. The reception was closed and no one picked up the ‘emergency’ number. After an hour I managed to stop it (by almost ripping it off the ceiling). After that, we decided we wouldn’t be staying here on the way back south and cancelled our reservation.

Tuesday May 20 We headed north on the Alaska Highway which soon turned left for Alaska and we joined the Klondike Highway (Highway 2) which would take us to Dawson City 553 km on from Whitehorse. The road was straight as we passed through the Braeburn Estate which warned about the Braeburn Elk Herd which we never saw. We noticed that the trees were not as tall as further south.

Our first stop was at the Five Finger Rapids where a small red squirrel ran past us. Four islands of composite rock divide the Yukon River into five narrow channels of which only the eastern is passable to canoes paddling upstream. The Five Finger Rapids were a common obstacle for gold seekers during the Klondike Gold Rush. From 1900 to around 1927, blasting widened the channel by 6 meters.

We were stopped by some traffic lights in the middle of nowhere and a sign that said “Wait for Pilot Car About 15 Minutes”. Ten minutes later, the pilot car returned with a few cars behind it and turned in front of us. We followed it for a few miles until the other set of traffic lights. Potholes or bumpy sections from now on were indicated by orange poles by the side of the road so you knew what to expect. One other difference with the UK was that any roadworks had construction crews actually working, even on Sundays.

At the Pelly Crossing lookout, a red fox sat and watched us for ages. We had never seen one up close and motionless. Pelly Crossing is home to the Selkirk First Nation and a small community of about 300 people. The community was established during the construction of the North Klondike Highway as a site for a ferry crossing and a construction camp. The long straight roads continued past silver birch forests and lakes. We followed another Pilot Car through roadworks and when we pulled off at a lake for a late lunch, no vehicle came past in either direction for over 20 minutes. Apart from the red fox, we saw no wildlife today.

We arrived on the outskirts of Dawson City to a strange ‘Welcome’ sign which was a two-story façade of an old wooden building with a Victorian dressed lady mannequin waving. We checked into the Bonanza Gold Motel and we were given a lovely spacious room with lots of light. It was probably our most comfortable room on the trip. It was just for one night, but we would return here after visiting the Arctic Circle to explore Dawson City properly. Popping into Dawson City, both (small) ‘supermarkets’ had shut at 7pm. So, we treated ourselves to a lavish ‘Great Canadian Miner’ pizza takeaway at the ‘Pan of Gold’ which with a bar and TV Sports channels seemed to be the social centre for the town.

Wednesday May 21

Back in Dawson City this morning we stocked up with road food and filled up with fuel before heading back to the Dempster Highway. We had passed the Dempster Highway turnoff yesterday as we drove another 40 km into Dawson City. Begun in 1959 to service northern oilfields and completed twenty years later, the 741 km Dempster Highway between Dawson City and Inuvik in the Northwest Territories is the only public highway in North America to cross the Arctic Circle. The highway is named for North-West Mounted Police (NWMP) officer William Dempster, who earned renown for discovering the fate of a lost NWMP patrol in 1911.

RG said “This route offers a tremendous journey through a superb and ever changing spectrum of landscapes – mountains, open tundra, rivers, bogs with thousands of wandering caribou and millions of migrating birds.” The highway is not sealed and just a hard packed gravel road and today it would take 405 km from the start to reach the Arctic Circle sign. As we turned onto the Dempster, a sign warned us that “There are no emergency medical services on the Yukon section of the Dempster Highway – drive with care!”

Starting off gingerly, I gradually gained confidence with the unsealed road surface. After 20km, we saw the sloping fringes of the North Klondike Range and then the rugged Tombstone Range both covered in snow. It felt like we were driving towards the edge of the world in spectacular scenery. Today we would only see five cars going north with us, and twelve coming south. In the Tombstone Mountain Territorial Park, we stopped at the Tombstone Interpretative Centre at 71km which was the only ‘civilisation’ until Eagle Plain. We talked to the woman who ran it, and she gave us some tea made up of plants she’d collected.

There was some wildlife. A strange docile bird from the Grouse species called the Willow Ptarmigan would stand by the side of the road. Their winter white plumage, brown necks and red heads stood out so you couldn’t miss them. We saw four today along with five rabbits and two ground squirrels that scampered across the road. But the highlight was of a black mother bear with two large cubs waiting on the road for a third cub to catch up. They all padded down the road like huge furry obstacles. Apparently, the mothers look after their cubs for two years and these looked more than a year old. It was a sight that we would never forget.

At the Blackstone River (93km), we also saw a variety of tundra birds such as American widgeon and arctic terns but we saw no moose at Moose Lake (105km). Chapman Lake (120km) marked the start of the northern Oglivie Mountains and at 139 km, we crossed the North Fork Pass which at 1289m (4229 ft) is the highest point on the Dempster Highway and gave us a marvellous few of the endless mountain ranges on both sides.

By now we had entered the tundra region, where the snow still lay by the sides of the road and across the mountainous landscapes and low-lying spruce trees lined the road. At 168km we came across ‘Red Creek’ where the water was red due to the iron oxide. The thawing snow by the river was also dyed red. We spent ages trying to spot ‘Elephant rock’ which turned out to be the entire mountain shape and not just a small nob on top. The gravel/dirt road still had a generally good gradient, but we had a few close shaves with potholes and ruts.

Looking for a place to have a cup of tea from our thermos flask, a long flat strip appeared by the side of the road and Wendy suggested we stop. I had just made the tea when Wendy questioned “Is that a windsock over there?” We had parked on a temporary airstrip used for emergency landings that used a portion of the highway as its runway. Doh! For the last four hours up to Eagle Plains, we only saw two cars. We felt like we had the entire road to ourselves to enjoy the scenery, stop for photos whenever and wherever with no problems about cars passing and just appreciate the remote beauty of the wilderness. Because the ferries were not starting at Inuvik for another two weeks, the big supply trucks had not started using the Dempster Highway, so we were unintentionally lucky to not have to follow or pass these in clouds of dust later in the year. Our car was producing enough dust off the road as it was.

We arrived at the Eagle Plains Hotel (‘an oasis in the wilderness’) after 371km on the highway. This was built in 1978 midway between Dawson City and Inuvik at a cost of $3.5 million. All utilities for the complex were self-contained since there were no outside sources of power, water, sewage etc. I had made a reservation not knowing what to expect, but it was virtually empty when we checked in. The ‘restaurant’ had just closed at 6pm minutes before we arrived. Our room was ambitiously priced at $236 Canadian Dollars (£128). It was either that or sleep in the car.

The Arctic Circle was another 37km north so after unloading, we pushed on. The road was rougher not graded so well. It was obviously damaged by ice every year and needed constant maintenance. There were hardly any trees now. We passed another sign saying that the road was also an airstrip and arrived at the Arctic Circle signpost (Latitude 66 Degrees 33 Degree North) around 8pm. This is an imaginary line circumnavigating the globe indicating the point on Earth where the sun will not set for at least one full day. I had crossed it before in Norway. The sun was still shining. It wouldn’t set at all at this time of the year. We had made it, and we rejoiced at having it all to ourselves. We had driven 4740 km to reach it.

It was another 87km to the Northwest Territories border and we decided to see how far we could get, but the gravel road was getting worse and after 40km, we turned around. The going was so slow that we calculated we wouldn’t get back to Eagle Plains until midnight. As it was, we didn’t get back until around 10pm. It had been a fabulous day of adventure and we had achieved our aim of reaching the Arctic Circle. We felt like we were at the top of the world. We needed the curtains in our room to shut out the light that would have flooded in all night.

Thursday May 22

At the restaurant the next morning, we found just one other couple and two new staff who had just arrived for the season and the ‘chef’. I had a fry up called the ‘Yukoner’ while Wendy had ‘Eggs Benny’ (Eggs Benedict). The reception had never been open since we arrived yesterday, but the chef was able to give us the official ‘Arctic Circle Crossing’ certificates. Outside was a fuel tank that took credit cards. The price was $2.38 a litre, the most expensive on the trip (the cheapest was $1.27!) It had been $1.89 in Dawson City and $1.74 in Whitehorse. I put in $50 worth which topped us up.

We had three good hours heading south over the familiar terrain and didn’t see another vehicle in either direction. Then I felt the ride getting bumpier and assumed we had a puncture. The front driver’s side tyre was shredded. I found the jack in the boot but on the gravel road, I couldn’t get it to grip, and it would keep collapsing. A truck came past as I was having my first attempt and stopped to see if we were ok. Wendy waved him on. Fifteen minutes later as I was still struggling, another car heading north stopped. Mark and Jeremy were heading for a construction camp and helped me change the tyre. The spare was just a ‘donut’, a thin temporary one. We still had 200 km of the Dempster Highway to cover to get back to the sealed road. They advised that we keep to a maximum of 40-50 km per hour.

That’s what we did. It was a nervous drive because if we got another puncture we would be marooned with no phone signal unless I could get to the Tombstone Interpretative Centre which would have communications. Added to this fact was that we only saw nine vehicles in total on the highway all coming north (including the two who stopped during our puncture) so it wasn’t as if I could have hitched south either. A couple of campervans were heading north and we didn’t envy their chances. The slow nervous drive was punctuated by sightings of more Willow Ptarmigan, rabbits a Peregrine Falcon and a new sighting of an Arctic squirrel.

After five torturous hours, we arrived back at the sealed Klondike highway and got back to the Bonanza Gold Motel who gave us the same room for two more nights. It was pouring with rain as we popped into Dawson City to visit the supermarket. Most of the roads in Dawson City were not sealed so became very muddy in heavy rain. Wooden boardwalks gave your shoes a fighting chance. We had thankfully made it back but still had to sort out the tyre. Another issue was that the dashboard had started to flash ‘Vehicle Maintenance Required’. I hadn’t found anything in the manual about this message. It would all have to wait until tomorrow.

Friday May 23

Across the road from the hotel was a car workshop that changed tyres. It was a walk in first come first serve, so I made sure I was there before the 8am opening. The youth had a look at their stock and concluded that they didn’t have one. My heart sunk. “You could try Chief Issacs in the Industrial estate.” I headed there for their 8.30am opening and they also didn’t have a tyre. My heart sunk again.

I came back to the hotel room and called Thrifty Customer Service to explain that we were in Dawson City with a temporary tyre (which should only do 300km) and nowhere to find a replacement. The Call Centre in Texas didn’t understand and said their nearest office was Fairbanks, Alaska. Der! I did discover that the Vehicle Maintenance indication was just an oil change needed. I put down the phone resigned to the fact that we would have to try and struggle back to Whitehorse on the spare at 40kph.

Next to the hotel was a garage and a closed tyre workshop. The garage always opened late after 10am. I drove next door and walked in and asked if they had a tyre. The Argentinian mechanic with basic English went to have a look and said ‘Yes’. I was shocked. He opened up the workshop and changed the tyre. I was so relieved. I then went across the road to the first place which did oil changes. As I walked in, I saw a sign saying ‘Oil Changes – No Walk Ins.” I said I needed an oil change. The man pointed at the sign. “Not today. Tomorrow”. “Try July 3rd” He replied. That was over forty days in the future! We got on with our planned of exploring Dawson City and never did get the oil changed.

The Rough Guide said “Few episodes in Canadian history have captured the imagination like the Klondike gold rush, and few places have remained as evocative of their past as Dawson City, the stampede’s tumultuous capital”. For a few months in 1898, it became one of the wealthiest and most famous places on earth, even calling itself “The Paris of the North” as countless gold seekers hiked the Chilkoot trail and used the Yukon River to seek their fortunes in the largest gold deposit of its kind of all time (1896-1899). The Guide continued “Between 1898 and 1900, Dawson exploded into a metropolis of thirty thousand people with its opportunities for vice, decadence and good living. There were opera houses, theatres, cinemas (at a time when motion picture houses were just three years old), steam heating, three hospitals, restaurants, bars, brothels and dance halls.” By 1900 the goldrush was over and all but 5,000 remained when the town was incorporated as a city in 1902.

The small downtown area was devastated by fires in November 1897, 1899 and 1900 as well as being flooded by the adjacent Yukon River in 1925, 1944, 1966, 1969 and 1979. It didn’t help when the Alaska Highway bypassed it 500 km to the south. Apparently, the population in 2021 was around 1600 but during the winter months it drops to around 500 (as well as the temperatures down to -60’c). There certainly weren’t 1600 people there during our visit. However, present day Dawson City (the downtown area is just ten by nine short streets in a grid) felt like a proper authentic gritty weather worn frontier town with rutted dirt streets, boardwalks and dozens of false fronted wooden houses. We had visited Skagway in Alaska (at the start of the Chilkoot Trail) on our Alaskan cruise and had felt it looked authentic but against Dawson City, it now looked like it had rebuilt for the cruise ships.

Dawson City just oozed authentic charm right down to the buckled wooden houses known as the ‘Kissing Buildings’ because the original 1899 buildings of a hotel, photography studio and hardware store had all crumpled together due to their scarce foundations collapsing in the permafrost after the heat of the fires/stoves had melted the ice beneath. Now these buildings were tumbledown and lopsided like comical crazy houses. The permafrost precluded the construction of brick buildings with deep foundations. Elsewhere, St Mary’s Roman Catholic Church had suffered from the same problem. Some of the original buildings had walls of corrugated iron or flattened old drums because of the shortage of wood. No wonder it has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

We toured each street slowly starting with Front Street by the river, past the 1901 Commissioners Residence to the Visitor Centre where the female staff dressed in late Victorian costumes. Here, you could pick up a heavy bar of pretend gold. Did you know that gold is nineteen times heavier than water? A gold nugget was unearthed in the Klondike that weighed over 72 ounces. Valued in 1898 at $1,158, today’s value would be well over $75,000. Nearby was the old wooden SS Keno riverboat. It was built in 1922 and was like the other remaining Riverboat to the one in Whitehorse.

Of the numerous heritage buildings, a few stood out. The Palace Grand Theatre (1899) was rumoured to have been constructed from the hulks of two beached paddle steamers. The 1901 blue painted and wooden domed Post Office still looked impressive. The cream and brown clapboard Anglican church was built in 1902 with money collected from the miners. Diamond Tooth Gerties Gambling Hall was opened as the first legal casino in Canda and named after one of the town’s most notorious characters. The ‘Bank of British North America’ had been the original bank, starting off in a tent with a trunk as the vault. When the rain re-started, we headed for the Dawson City Museum which had an excellent historical run through of the gold rush from the first finds, old diaries and newspaper cuttings documenting what it like to live here. For example, there was a big winter freeze in 1897-98 when temperatures dropped to -86’C. There were lots of items from the gold rush too.

Outside Dawson City near our motel, an unmade road took us through the old goldfields and piles of slag heaps to eventually ‘Dredge No 4”. Gold mining started in 1896 with the Bonanza (Rabbit) Creek discovery by three prospectors. The area's creeks were quickly staked and most of the thousands who arrived in the spring of 1898 for the Klondike Gold Rush found that there was very little opportunity to benefit directly from gold mining. Around a decade later, large gold dredges began an industrial mining operation, scooping huge amounts of gold out of the creeks, and completely reworking the landscape, altering the locations of rivers and creeks and leaving `piles in their wake. The dredges shut down for the winter, but one was designed to operate year-round. That dredge (Dredge No. 4) was built in 1912 and shut down in 1966 and is now open as a National Historic Site of Canada on Bonanza Creek. RG called it “an extraordinary piece of industrial archaeology” 66 metres long and eight stories high and dug up as much of 25kg of gold a day. As one example, Dredge 4 produced 800 ounces of gold in one day from the previously prospected rocks. With the popularity of the dredges and the amounts of water needed to operate them, water supplies became almost as important as the gold found.

It had been a relaxing but intriguing day of exploration, and we felt that by the end of it, we knew Dawson City and its history very well. In 2024, it was estimated that around 100,000 ounces of gold were still being produced worth $322,000 bringing the estimated total from 1885/86 to 1,432,644 ounces worth $3,105,239,000 (based on the value of each year’s production). But environmentally, it seems to have had an effect. As you drive in and out of Dawson city the roadsides are full of old slag heaps left over from the hunt for gold. It was the end of our second week. We had driven another 2658 km for a grand total of 5297 km so far. We celebrated our achievements with another excellent pizza from the ‘Pan of Gold’. We also did our laundry and I used the local car wash to try and clean the dust and mud-covered car back to some respectability.

Saturday May 24

For the next two days, we would be retracing our route back to Watson Lake via Whitehorse. Of note, in between intermittent rain showers, we spotted a porcupine by the side of the road which clambered up a tall tree and tried to disguise itself. We didn’t know that porcupines could climb trees. We also saw two elk by the side of the road. As we stopped to take a photo, a tour bus ironically titled “Yukon Wildlife Safari’ overtook us at great speed and scared them away. You would have thought that the driver would also have stopped to show his punters. It’s not as if the road was teeming with other vehicles. We think we may have seen more ground squirrels as well.

We did stop at one place that we had skipped on the way north. The Montaque Roadhouse Historic site were the log cabin remains of an example of a roadhouse on the first road (the Overland Trail) between Whitehorse and Dawson City. The roadhouse stops had barns, corrals and stables that independent travellers could use. Familiar with Whitehorse, we checked into a different hotel, Canada’s Best Value Inn and were given a large room. That evening we had another mediocre Chinese takeaway and watched the Rambo franchise drag up one final chapter called ‘Last Blood’.

Sunday May 25

The trip back to Watson Lake saw a lot of rain today. We stuck to the Alaska Highway this time and not the Carcross/Taglish detour we had taken on the way up to Whitehorse. Today we saw three separate black bears one of which ran across the road but only got to photograph one. We also saw our first moose which was heading into the woods. Back at Watson Lake, we made sure our sign was still there in the Sign Post Forest. Another new one had been added above ours. Another fill up at the petrol tank and Michael welcomed us back to the Air Force Lodge. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Monday May 26

Today in temperatures of 8-14’c, we finally took a new road south from Watson Lake. It would be a short day of 256km to the small town of Dease Lake. After leaving Watson Lake as if returning to Whitehorse, we turned left onto the 37 South (Stuart Cassier Highway) and a ‘Welcome to British Columbia’ sign appeared. After ten days, we were finally and reluctantly leaving the Yukon. RG described the route as “wild and beautiful, passing through some miraculous scenery”. Between 1872 and 1880, the Cassier gold rush populated the area especially after a lucky prospector plucked one of the world pure gold nuggets, a 72 ounce beauty from a creek.

The forest and lakes were back in abundance as was the wildlife. We spotted another moose by a lake and managed to get a photo before it slipped into thick vegetation. Then a black bear appeared by the side of the road and grazed until it finally crossed the road and returned to the forest. The spring flowers were also starting to bloom. We passed over the quirkily named ‘Baking Powder Creek’ and later stumbled across a porcupine eating something by the side of the road. We were able to stop and take photos for over five minutes. At intermittent stages, four individual thin looking ground squirrels scurried across the road.

Michael at Watson Lake had recommended Boya Lake Park. The lake is noted for its colour and clarity. The bottom is composed of marl, a mixture of silt and shell fragments. The crystal clear waters and aquamarine lake colour are a result of the light reflecting from the marl bottom like Emerald Lake which we had seen earlier in our trip. It was a lovely park/campsite with warnings of bear sightings.

The hamlet of Jade City (pop 26) seemed like an old colourfully designed hippy styled place. The Jade City Jade Store said “We mine it, we design it! Jade City Jade Store has an enormous collection of home décor. Carvings, jewellery and raw stone manufactured in Jade City.” Supposedly there was a ghost town nearby but it had been shut down to the public due to the asbestos in the old buildings.

We had a tea break at the frozen Simmons Lake that looked spectacular with its rich blue colour set off against the melting white ice. About twenty minutes outside Dease Lake, we saw a female moose just outside the forest and grabbed a photo before a male moose led it away to safety. We were overjoyed to have photo-captured Moose and a porcupine today. We arrived at the Northway Motor Inn around 3pm and checked in. I had built in a short day to let Wendy recover from the recent long drives. While she rested, I went off in search of more wildlife along single track roads but came across nothing. It couldn’t take away the fact that we were overjoyed to have photo-captured moose and a porcupine today.

Tuesday May 27

No hotel breakfast so we got a good start for our 392 km journey to Stewart. Continuing south on Highway 37, we crossed Gnat Pass and then the rain started and never really stopped all day. Sometimes it was very heavy. Clouds covered the mountains and forests and the wildlife was scarce. Just one rabbit and two swans. We passed a frozen lake, crossed numerous steel bridges and saw a decent waterfall. Stopping for a tea break and a rest from driving there was a sign explaining that the ‘Yukon Telegraph’ had been built from Vancouver to Dawson City between 1899 and 1901 through this area to be replaced by radio communications in the 1930s. We passed through Kinaskan Lake Provincial Park and various lakes. Eventually at Meziadan Junction, we turned west onto Highway 37A. It was just a miserable day.

We entered Bear Glacier Provincial Park via the Bear River Pass and saw the vast sky blue mass of glacier through the rain and low cloud. Ice once filled all of the pass, but in the 1940s, the glacier began to retreat and Strohn Lake formed in the exposed basin. In 1967, Bear Glacier melted away from the valley wall and has continued its retreat. Apparently, the glacier has the strange ability to glow in the dark. Fun fact: The glacier was part of the closing scene in the film "Insomnia" with Al Pacino.

Stewart Tourism stated that Stewart 37 km west of Bear Glacier, was “Located at the head of the historic 90-mile-long Portland Canal, surrounded by rich forests, Cambria ice fields, and incredible wildlife” and was “Canada’s most Northerly, ice-free port”. The Portland Canal is the world’s fourth longest fjord, a natural boundary between British Columbia and Alaska that encircled what RG called Stewart as a “shrivelled mining centre” with peaks. Gold and silver mining dominated the early economy. Nearby Hyder, Alaska, boomed with the discovery of rich silver veins in 1917/18. Hyder became an access and supply point for the mines, while Stewart served as the port for Canadian mining activity. In 2021, it had a population of 517.

Accommodation was scarce in Stewart and I had booked a log cabin. It was run by an Austrian couple. The cabin had a fully equipped kitchen, lounge, bedroom and bathroom and with a wood burner that worked on wood pellets and was very cosy. At the small supermarket, we stocked up to cook a proper meal (pie, mash and beans!) and then discovered that they didn’t take credit cards. Fortunately, I had Canadian Dollars.

Stewart is right next to the Alaskan border so we drove over into Hydra “Stewart’s oddball twin“ (RG) just 3km away. There were no US border formalities because there is nothing at the end of the road except for 800 km of wilderness. Hydra uses Canadian currency and calls itself “The Friendliest Ghost Town in Alaska”. The General Store had a sign that said “Hydra, Alaska – A town of about a hundred happy people and a few old s*** heads.” (the 2020 census said it had a population of 48). At the Glacier Inn, the tradition is to pin a dollar to the wall, in case you return broke and need a drink. The wildlife viewing platform to watch bears wasn’t open for the season yet and the sealed road soon gave out to the worst rutted dirt road we were to use during our road trip.

As we set off for the Salmon Glacier, pick up trucks with end of shift workers would come past with flashing lights heading for Hydra. Streams were pouring down the road and some spectacular waterfalls were coming down the mountains. We had entered the Tongass National Park which we had seen from our Alaskan cruise ship last year. A sign warned about avalanches and had a red light flashing. With all the rain falling, this was not unexpected. We drove through some kind of mining site with ugly slagheaps everywhere and signs warning not to enter various sections.

Salmon Glacier is one of the largest road accessible glaciers in the world although after a very slow muddy and bumpy 37 km ride to get our first views I would question the term ‘road-accessible”. I have no idea how the summer tourist traffic would get up here without bottlenecks. The glacier is the fifth largest in Canada. We were promised “breath taking views” by the tourist guides but had to peer at it through rain and mist. Nevertheless, it was very impressive for size alone and made Bear Glacier look like a cub in comparison. I later read in Stewart Tourism that “The glacier can be accessed via a gravel road from Hyder, Alaska, typically open from early July to late September, depending on weather conditions. The road conditions can vary, so it's advisable to check for updates before traveling” Doh!

It felt like we had entered the ‘Land that Time Forgot’ but rather than dinosaurs, we had the more cute company of groups of marmots. These are large furry ground squirrels that look like groundhogs (“Groundhog Day!”). They hibernate during the winter so had obviously just reappeared and were hungry. We were able to sit and watch them by the side of the road and take great close-up photos of their comical faces as they stared back. It is said that Marmots are the ‘sentinels’ of the wildlife community. These marmots clearly thought the coast was clear. It obviously was since we were the only car around.

We were pleased to have made the effort to see Salmon Glacier and had the road and glacier to ourselves, but we had to make the return journey without getting a puncture. We were relieved to reach the Canadian ‘border’ where a friendly Immigration officer asked us a few questions and when we asked questions, told us that we had driven through an operating gold mine. That evening we had the snuggest cosiest time in front of a fire as the rain continued to fall.

Wednesday May 28

Today, we would be heading for Prince Rupert further south on the coast 454 km away. We had to backtrack along Highway 37A, past Bear Glacier and long waterfalls. Somewhere in the valley we heard the sound of a snow avalanche. At Meziadin Junction, we rejoined Highway 37 and took in Meziadin Lake Provincial Park with its beautiful lake shrouded in mist. We also saw two adolescent black bears but weren’t fast enough to get photos.

We saw a sign saying Gitanyow Historic Village ‘Land of the Totems’ and went to take a look. Gitanyow is an Indian reserve community of the Gitxsan people, located on the Kitwanga River. Gitanyow means ‘People of many numbers’. What made it unique were the twenty two totem poles dotted around the centre. These were some of the oldest in British Columbia and included the 140 year old ‘Hole in the Sky’ totem which had a large hole through the bottom section. Every totem pole beautifully carved from cedar trees was unique.

We took another detour to Kitwanga where we saw ‘Battle Hill’ a green conical hill of historic intrigue commemorating a fortified retreat used by the Gitwangak people for at least a century until around 1835 when it was burned. From this stronghold, a warrior called Nekt had led raids against neighbouring Indian nations for food, slaves and the control of the lucrative trade routes between three major rivers. Nekt was a fearsome warrior. His war club was called ‘Strike only once’ and his ‘armour’ was a grizzly bear hide lined with pieces of slate, making him invincible to traditional weapons but not guns. He was apparently shot dead by the first gun in the territory.

Just after Kitwanga, we joined Highway 16 heading west to Prince Rupert. We stopped for lunch in the lovely Kleanza Creek Provincial Park. It was located amongst the forests and rock canyons in the Coast Mountains. Kleanza means gold in an Indian language. We parked near the 24 metre deep box ‘canyon’ where the river gushed through. It poured with rain for the last two hours and after passing though the busy commercial town of Terrace, we followed the Skeena River for the rest of the 142 km journey. A freight train line was on the other side of the road, and we saw a couple of lengthy freight trains with over one hundred containers each.

We were booked into the Moby Dick Inn for two nights (with breakfast). A sign by the lift said “No fish coolers in the guest rooms.” Prince Rupert is a port on Kaien Island linked by a bridge to the mainland. RG said “A stunning place when the mist lifts, it looks out over an archipelago of islands and is ringed by mountains that tumble to the sea along a beautiful fjord-cut coastline”. It is the land, air, and water transportation hub of British Columbia's North Coast, and had a population of 12,300 people (2021). What it also had was a decent Safeway.

Thursday May 29

We had come to Prince Rupert to visit the famous Khutzeymateen Grizzly Bear Sanctuary. I had booked tickets with Prince Rupert Adventure Tours (£210 each) for the six hour trip that actually lasted around eight hours. We had to be at the office by 6.30am in the touristy area called Cow Bay for the 7am departure on a big yellow catamaran. It was full of tourists but didn’t feel crowded with numerous viewing platforms. What followed was a magical day of spotting wildlife and enjoying the mountainous scenery from a boat. Leaving Prince Rupert through a series of small islands, as the sun climbed and blue skies replaced yesterday’s downpours, we soon saw our first hump backed whales diving with a wave of their giant tails and then reappearing a few minutes after. We then passed sea lions resting on rocks and harbour seals diving for fish.

Back in 1994, a remote coastal valley 45 km northeast of Prince Rupert was created to protect British Columbia’s largest known coastal population of Grizzly Bears. As we motored towards the start of the fjord, large layers of cloud hung over the forests that surrounded the water. We were given instructions to stay quiet when we saw a bear and that word would be passed around if one was spotted. We all started to look at the sandy and grassy areas. Two grizzlies were spotted but they were so far away from the boat and headed for the forest that photography was pointless. However, we soon found one digging for grubs on a rocky and sandy beach who was too preoccupied with its task to notice a boat load of tourists staring back. We had about twenty minutes just watching it and taking brilliant close-up photos. We had seen our first proper grizzly bear. You can spot them by the raised hump on their necks.

We moved further into the fjord which reminded me of a trip I had done in Milford Sound in New Zealand back in 1986 with still tranquil water and almost silence. Another grizzly was spotted grazing on grass and then another walking around the edge of the lake over grass, logs, crossing a stream and was in view for about fifteen minutes. A final one was spotted as we started back to the fjord entrance. I think we counted six in total, and it had been a real highlight to see our first grizzlies up close and personal. Back on the open sea, more whales were spotted. We were told either killer or humpbacked. We passed an island with a rocky outcrop that looked like an Indian Chief’s Head (not surprisingly called ‘Chief Head’). The final revelation was a dozen bald headed eagles all diving for fish. We had only ever seen them sitting in trees so watching them wheel and turn as they hunted was magnificent. Reluctantly, we arrived back in Prince Rupert around 3.30pm just as the rain started again. It had been one of the highlights of our trip and something we would never forget. Recommended.

Friday May 30

The heavy rain was back as we left Prince Rupert and made for Prince George breaking up the journey at Smithers. Today’s journey was only 348 km. Shortly after leaving we took a right turn to Fort Edward to visit the North Pacific Cannery National Historic Site. The cannery complex is situated on a narrow strip of land between the mountains and the Inverness Passage, at the mouth of the Skeena River. Built in 1899, this is British Columbia’s oldest surviving cannery. The plant stopped processing salmon in 1968, becoming a reduction plant until its closure in 1981 after eighty years of operations. It was now comprised of a cluster of twenty five wooden buildings, mostly one-storey in height, grouped along a wooden boardwalk. The boardwalk and many of the buildings were supported on piles over the water. The complex included the huge main cannery building, administration buildings and residences. It also had Indian and Japanese bunk houses (they worked at a cheaper and more efficient rate) one of which had a primitive onsen heated by a wood burner.

The Cannery’s website said “Our rich collection of buildings and structures demonstrate the evolution, industrial processes and complex organization of a northwest coast cannery and illustrate the infrastructure necessary to process a range of products associated with the west coast fishing industry.” Despite the rain, we enjoyed pottering around the residences and bunkhouses and understanding how the cannery process worked in the vast processing building. The former Mess House had been turned into a small café, and the friendly owner Michelle gave Wendy a free tea and homemade cake while they watched humming birds outside buzzing around a feeder.

Much of today was a repeat journey on Highway 16 back to Kitwanga and then continuing south east. We passed another couple of lengthy freight trains, one a double decker. One highlight was when we spotted a skinny wet bedraggled fox who was desperate enough to let us feed it bread. At Terrace, we popped into the Visitor’s centre where the friendly women told us about the impressive set of murals in town, so as in Whitehorse, we spent an hour exploring the streets and photographing them. Even the Post Office had a mural that covered its walls. Many of them were wildlife themed. At Hagwilet, ‘Home of the quiet people’, there were comical statues of early western pioneers. We crossed the wide suspension bridge that spanned the Bulkley River and looked across to the forested Bulkley Canyon.

The rain had stopped by the time we reached Smithers. This was originally built to service the railroad that crossed the region but now supported everyone in the Bulkley Valley. The population was just over 5000. It had a sizable Swiss population that had made their mark on the alpine themed downtown which had on its main street, a fibreglass statue of a man blowing an alpine horn. Residents of Smithers are called Smithereens. To be honest, it was a non-descript place but not as non-descript as our hotel called the Capri Inn. It was very run down and had a sign outside saying it was due for ‘renovation’ which is always good to know after you have stayed there. The sink had a big stain and the breakfast was abysmal. When I asked a member of staff if there was any milk or butter he said “No.” “So what do you do tomorrow?” I asked. He shrugged his shoulders. I gave them a 1/10 on the online review and called it the ‘Worst Hotel in Canada’. We had survived on a non-descript pizza at Pizza Hut the night before which was the only place we could find open. I’d drive though Smithers and not stop if I was doing it again. By the end of the third week, we had driven another 2673 km for a grand total of 7970 km. We had one week to go.

Saturday May 31

A 371 km journey today continuing on Highway 16 would take us to Prince George. Our first sight was at the 3000 strong town of Houston which apparently had the world’s largest fly rod. Its not something we expected but you couldn’t miss it. It was six times the length of an average fly fishing rod and weighed 800lbs. Later on, we spotted an elk in the undergrowth, popped into the Burns Lake Library (as you do) and had lunch by Dry Williams Lake which is an ecological Reserve which www.bcparks.ca said was “established to preserve for forestry research a representative stand of Douglas-fir in the Sub-boreal Spruce Zone”.

We were now in horse and cow territory. A sign advertising Fort St James said it “Wasn’t just a one horse town!” The town of Vanderhoof stated that it was the geographical centre of British Columbia. It had a massive timber yard which some kind of wood processing factory next door and huge piles of sawdust as a result. To liven things up on a sleepy afternoon in the sun, a deer ran across the road right in front of us. I jammed on the brakes and screeched to a stop. It was a narrow miss.

Prince George appeared like a metropolis. With a population of 90,000, It is often called the province's "northern capital" because it serves as a centre for higher education, health care, government services, arts and entertainment, sports, and support for major industries such as forest products and mining. It was originally established as a North West Trading Company post by Simon Fraser in 1805. Little changed until 1914 when the Grand Trunk Railroad arrived which spawned an influx of pioneers and loggers. There was nothing we wanted to see in Prince George apart from “Mr PG”. This is the city’s mascot and was originally built in 1960 to symbolise the importance of forestry. He currently stands eight metres tall at the junction of Highways 97 and 16. Original built of wood, he is now made of painted metal.

There were two pleasant surprises. Our Super 8 hotel turned out to be a massive newly designed structure with gardens and fountains dominating the interior and surrounded by the rooms. It also had an indoor pool and sauna. It felt quite luxurious. At the local liquor store I asked where we could get a steak, and someone recommended Montana’s near Mr KG. This spit and sawdust restaurant had friendly staff and produced the best tasting steak we could remember eating. It was a lovely meal out and Smithers was a distant memory.

Sunday June 1

We would continue on Highway 16 today to Valemount 292 km away and had ended up crossing the width of British Columbia on the same road. We pulled in at the Willow River Rest stop for a view of the river and then moved onto the attractive Purden Lake Provincial Park. The park had a densely forested upland with open areas near the lakefront and the surrounding landscape was dominated by the Cariboo and Rocky Mountains. Shortly after leaving, it began to pour with rain.

The Ancient Forest Provincial Park contained the only inland temperate rainforest in the world and had one thousand year old western red cedars and a rich biodiversity of plants, mosses, lichens and fungi. Unfortunately, the boardwalk that allowed you to see the trees was currently closed. We spied a deer and then enjoyed the sight of a brown bear grazing on grass and plants by the side of the road. It looked very funny with uneaten vegetation hanging out of its mouth.

The attractive village of Valemount (‘Let the Mountains Move You’) was described on its tourist website Visit Valemount as “nestled in the Rocky, Monashee and Caribou mountains, our village is surrounded by towering peaks, lush forests and pristine rivers”. The main street lay 90 degrees off Highway 16 and it looked like a real community of a thousand people. The town was only down the road from Mount Robson which we had visited back on day five. We had seen a lot more of Canada since then. Our Super 8 hotel was nothing like the one at Prince George but was comfortable with a good breakfast. Occasionally, we would hear the sound of freight trains horns passing nearby.

Monday June 2

Highway 5 took us on a beautiful 322 km drive to Kamloops today. We had the Canadian Rockies to our left all the way there and would criss-cross the North Thompson River all day. Our first stop was the wonderfully named Little Hell Provincial Park 17 km north of Avola. We followed a track though a forest for a few kilometres until we reached the end where there was a lookout platform of the mighty North Thompson River narrowing and surging through a 9 metre wide gorge as seething rapids.

At Clearwater (‘Adventure starts here’), we headed north for the Wells Gray Provincial Park using the picturesque Wells Gray Park Road. The quiet road had colourful spring flowers blooming and would reveal a number of waterfalls as well as wildlife. BC Parks said “Wells Gray Park is a spectacular destination hidden in the Cariboo Mountains of east-central British Columbia. Famed for its old-growth rainforest, lush alpine meadows, and many waterfalls, Wells Gray offers an extraordinary range of outdoor attractions.” With forty one named waterfalls Wells Gray is apparently known as ‘Canada’s Waterfall Park’. Ancient volcanoes and slow-moving glaciers carved the rivers and lakes that fuel the Park’s waterfalls. It lay “in the heart of the world’s only old-growth inland temperate rainforest, tranquil lakes, powerful rivers, and soaring mountain peaks.”

About 10 km north of Clearwater, a short walk took us to the eighty metre long Spahats Falls, the first of several mighty cascades. From various observation platforms we watched the waters crashing through a keyhole in the rock down to the Clearwater River through layers of pinky-red volcanic rock as well as views of the Clearwater Valley. The surrounding forest was cedar and hemlock. Further on, we spotted a deer. Then a black bear came down a steep slope to our right and padded across the road in front of us. A marmot popped up later on to see what was happening.

We finally reached the official Park Entrance 63 km from Clearwater and 6 km beyond was Dawson Falls, an impressive terraced waterfall (91m wide and 18m high) which cascaded across the broad width of the Murtle River over 200,000 year old lava beds. Just after, we turn off to Helmcken Falls. The park’s undisputed highlight which at 141m, is two and a half the height of Niagara Falls and the fourth highest waterfall in Canada. The viewing platform hung over the lip of the canyon providing a panoramic view of the Murtle River tumbling in the distance. The Rough Guide described it as a “Luminous arc of water that plunges into a black, carved bowl fringed with vivid carpets of lichen and splintered trees. The whole ensemble is framed by huge plumes of spray” We had been overwhelmed by this free provincial park. On the return journey we saw four more deer by the side of the road.

125 km down Highway 5 past more lakes took us to Kamloops. I had booked a cheap motel called Best Budget Inn & Suites. It is always a warning when ‘Best budget’ is in the title. We found a very run down place with local prostitutes working out of a nearby room and a homeless person going through he bins. We checked out and moved next door to the Motor Inn.

Kamloops is a city in south-central British Columbia, at the confluence of the North and South Thompson Rivers, which join to become the Thompson River. It began as a transportation hub when the Canadian Pacific Railway was completed in 1886, and the Canadian National Railway arrived in 1912. It hosts more than 100 sporting tournaments annually and calls itself ‘Canada’s Tournament Centre’. It seemed a huge bland city of nearly 100,000 people that was divided by the busy Trans-Canada Highway. It was very unappealing after the quiet places we had stayed in.

Tuesday June 3

Kamloops did have two things going for it. Firstly, the sunshine had returned and it was a very hot 27’c. Secondly, on the outskirts 13 km away lay the BC Wildlife Park whose motto was “Connecting people to wild animals and wild places.” Since 1965, it had been the home to nearly 200 animals and 65 different species that are native to British Columbia including cougars, bears, wolves, reptiles, birds of prey, and the only Kermode bear in human care in the world. Many of the animals at the park had been rescued or were orphaned.

The two grizzly bears were great to see especially when one sat in a pool of water and gnawed on a big bone. There were also black bears, but we failed to see the Kermode Bear. It was probably sheltering from the heat. Another highlight were the two rescued cougars but we failed to see the bobcat. It took a while to spot the raccoon and the porcupine was shy but eventually showed itself. Other wildlife we saw included bison, big horn sheep, mule deer, mountain goats, white tailed deer and Arctic wolves as well as domestics like goats and sheep, a llama and miniature donkeys. The birds of prey included Bald Eagles, Golden Eagles, Barred Owls, Great Grey Owls, Great Horned Owls, Red Tailed Hawks, Long Eared Owls, and Burrowing Owls. There were also Trumpeter Swans. The place was full of groups of young loud school kids enjoying a day out in the sun. But we spent over three hours there covering the 106 acre complex of large enclosures.

Setting off down Highway 5 South we found it a very fast freeway with an allowed speed of 120 km per hour. Before we knew it, we were back in Hope, which we had passed through on day two. We took Highway 1 to Yale and followed the Fraser Canyon. Rough Guide said that it was “one of BC’s grandest waterways squeezed between the high ridges of the Cascade and Coast mountain ranges.” It was long regarded as impassable, and the canyon has forced the highway to pass through seven tunnels. The Canadian Pacific Railway and Canadian National Railway also pass through it. The canyon extends 270 kilometres north of Yale.

I had booked a motel room at the Mighty Fraser Hotel in Boston Bar but it lay in an isolated spot a few kilometres north. The room had a fully equipped kitchen and we could look over into the Fraser Canyon a few metres away. It also had a diner attached called ‘Fat Jacks’. When we checked in, we were given a free beer and coke. We returned later for dinner which was a huge ‘Fat Jack’s burger’ and humongous hot dog. It was nice to be away from the cities again.

Wednesday June 4

I had read that the Hell’s Gate AirTram wasn’t open for the season yet and when we passed it yesterday, it said ‘Closed’ but I thought we should give it another go and when we returned this morning, we found that this was only the second day it had been open this year. The AirTram is a twin cable car system that takes you across and down into the canyon 1000m into the Hells Gate gorge 153m below where, the huge swell of the Fraser River is squeezed abruptly into a 35 metre channel of foaming water that crashes through the rocks with awe-inspiring ferocity. 200 million gallons of water thunder through it every minute. The Fraser River is one of the key runs for Pacific Salmon. In 1914 while the railroad was being constructed a landslide of rock almost blocked off the river and disrupted the salmon migration until it was removed in 1915. At the bottom of the AirTram was a small tourist facility with a couple of museums, gift shop etc. You could also walk across a suspension bridge and see the force of the river below. We had the place to ourselves for the first thirty minutes. We chatted to Darlene, an Indian woman of direct descent who told us about the freezing winters of four months of snow and how they coped - have two months of food supplies and generator fuel just in case the road to Hope is blocked.

It was an enjoyable excursion and after catching the Air Tram back to the top, we set off back along the Highway 1 past Boston Bar and our motel going north for our 246 km journey to Pemberton. Considering that this was the original Trans-Canada Highway, it was a very quiet road with lots of views of the Fraser Canyon. Eventually Highway 1 turned right but we kept going north joining the even quieter Highway 12 which continued to follow the Fraser Canyon. This was a very scenic and relaxing drive. We saw a large stork’s nest on top of telegraph pole. At the unpronounceable Lillooet, we turned onto Highway 99 and headed west to Pemberton.

This was another scenic and twisty road, with more tourist traffic. It took us through forested and snowy mountains, by the side of Seton Lake and into Duffey Lake Provincial Lake where the outstanding vista of Duffey Lake overshadowed by Mt Rohr, stopped every vehicle in its tracks and everyone got out to take photographs. We felt as if we were seeing some of the best of British Columbia’s stunning scenery today. Another marmot appeared to ensure we were enjoying our day. It was about 35km east of Pemberton.

We were booked into an Native Indian owned ‘Hitching Post Motel’ just before Pemberton (‘Adventure starts here’). It was deserted but there was an envelope pinned to the reception door with my name. A note apologised for the staff shortage and but there was a combination number to undo the door to our room. We could settle up later. I spent the rest of the late afternoon sat outside in the sun with a cold beer and a book. There were warning signs not to leave food out because of the ‘local bear problem’. It was another quiet idyllic place to stay. We were only 153km north of Vancouver now.

Thursday June 5

It was still a hot and sunny 24’c. We drove through Pemberton (pop 3,500) which lies on the Lillooet Lake and Pemberton Creek. It seemed to be geared up for the tourist industry. I had chosen Pemberton over nearby Whistler and when we drove into Whistler 33 km later via Green Lake I could see why.

Rough Guide said that Whistler is “Canada’s finest four season resort, and frequently ranks as one of the world’s top five ski destinations….the key to the resort is Whistler village, a buzzing conglomeration of bars, boutiques, hotels, award winning restaurant and mountain-gear shops.” I always feel that there is nothing sadder looking than a winter resort with no snow. We found a bland looking place in brilliant sunshine full of beautiful people covered in tattoos and didn’t hang around. There was nothing for us to see or do. We joined Highway 99 known as the ‘Sea to Sky Highway’ and according to Rough Guide “one of the world’s most picturesque drives” that takes you from Whistler to Vancouver. 18 km down the road, we came across the unexpected Brandyvine Falls. Carved by Brandywine Creek, the 18 metre falls looked majestic at full volume with the melting winter snow. At the Tantalus Lookout (320 metres), on Highway 99, we saw the fabulous raging Cheakamus River which was also full of glacial melt water so that it appeared to have a clear blue colour.

Squarmish (pop 23,000) was located at the north end of Howe Sound, but all we found was a massive traffic jam heading towards Whistler. It is famed for the vast granite rock overshadowing it. The “Stawamus Chief” (often referred to as ‘The Chief’) is one of the largest granite monoliths and apparently the world’s second biggest free-standing rock (after Gibraltar). It towers over 700 metres above the waters of Howe Sound and looked awesome. The rock is sacred to the local Squarmish Indian Nation, whose ancient tribal name means “Mother of the wind” because of the strong constant winds blowing along the nearby coast. Just outside Squarmish, was the Shannon Falls Provincial Park with a spectacular 335 metre waterfall, the third largest in British Columbia. It was visible from the road but only five minutes walk to the viewing area at the base with a well maintained boardwalk, towering trees and the ever present mist from the roaring falls above. I think they were the best waterfalls we saw during our trip and we had seen some corkers.

Sea and coastal views started after Squarmish and 11 km later we pulled into the small hamlet of Britannia Beach (pop 300) and where road and rail lines meet. The Britannia Mine was once one of the largest producers of copper in the British empire – 56 million tonnes of ore were extracted here before the mine closed in 1974 when it was turned into a museum and one of Canada’s Historic Sites. We started with a guided underground tour on a small electric train to rumble around about 350 metres of the mine’s galleries to experience the mine’s working conditions. However, the apex of the complex was the enormous twenty story tall Mill No 3 built in 1923 on the hillside and a gravity fed processing plant or ‘Concentrator’ that could process 7000 tons of ore a day. Here we watched an excellent multi-media show called ‘Boom’ that explained about the Mill and each step of the process. We also saw racks of the old rock samples taken, original working machinery, a 235 tonne monster mine truck and archive photographs. Many movies have filmed here including Liam Neeson’s ‘Taken’. As our final ‘sight’, it was a lot better than I anticipated thinking it would just be an underground mine tour.

Reluctantly, we headed for Vancouver which was only 53 km away and followed Highway 99 along the coast. In Vancouver, we found the usual rush hour of gridlocked traffic. We crawled though its most famous tourist attraction, Stanley Park and on Granville Street just sat at endless traffic lights. It was a nightmare and just put us off looking at anything in the city. Once past the airport and Richmond we headed further south on Highway 99 for around another 40km under the Deas Tunnel which is another horrendous bottleneck in rush hour onto Highway 17 and finally to the sleepy town of Tsawwassen. This was a suburban, mostly residential community on a peninsula in the south western corner of the city. From here you could cross into the USA or catch a ferry to Vancouver island. We were staying at the Beach Grove Hotel for two nights which was better than expected (apart from a power failure at one point). It was another Indian (As in Asian Indians) run hotel. They seem to have taken over many hotel ownerships.

Friday June 6

The day centred on seeing my old friend Karl who had moved to Canada back in 1986 (just after I came back) and had lived in Vancouver for eighteen years. We had seen him last year after our cruise just before we flew home. We drove up to Richmond mall mid morning when the traffic was lighter and spent five hours with Karl over lunch and catching up before getting back to the hotel. It was a lovely relaxing day. The evening was spent using up most of our food and all of our left-over alcohol! For our final week, we had driven another 2079km.

Saturday June 7

We weren’t flying home until 17:45 so we spent the morning packing, cleaning the car and when we had to check out at 11am, we headed first to the local beach, where the tide was out so far I think you would need a taxi to get to the sea and then to Hawthorne Grove Park where we just relaxed in a quiet pleasant local community park which was empty. Making our way to the airport, we dropped off the car with a total mileage of 10,049 km and were dropped off at the terminal. The BA flight home was delayed and more of the same and we were back in Heathrow by 11.30 the next morning.

Conclusion: When we talked to other Canadians or tourists and told them we were driving to/had driven to the Yukon and Arctic Circle, they would gasp or congratulate us. It is indeed a ‘bucket list’ trip of outstanding scenery, marvellous wildlife and important Canadian history. We felt that we had explored British Columbia and the Yukon as much as we could and it was nice to touch base with the Canadian Rockies in Alberta after 44 years! We had one more road trip in Canada to do before we could say we that we knew the rest of it.