A short drive but a big step

Well, my friends, I don’t know how this will end, but I’m going to try to write a blog post in the style of “the before times.” If successful it will be my second post in 6 months.

I have two things going on health-wise. I’m not going to spoil this post by telling you a lot about that, but a couple of sentences are in order to explain where this post is coming from. I have my physical issues created by the 2019 brain injury – that’s a roller-coaster ride, with good days made possible by the treatment I receive from my osteopath. I also have cognitive issues which are still being assessed (the next medical trip to Vancouver is in two weeks) but are slowly but surely getting worse and are almost certainly dementia. From the blog perspective, thoughts are difficult to oranize, and even more difficult to get from brain to keyboard.

Anyway, after a record-breaking snowfall this past Winter we’re now having a very late Spring. Really nice days are few and far between. There’s still a lot of snow on our property, but on Sunday evening (May 15th) I went for a short walk on the trail that circles it.


It was really nice to find the trail all clear of snow, and there were two piles of moose poop, looking quite fresh.


On Monday evening, with the temperature at +1Β°C, it started snowing. Heavy snow, with huge wet flakes. Yuch!

Heavy May snow in Whitehorse

It got heavier and heavier – the ground was soon covered and the layer was getting thicker. Extreme weather call for extreme counter-measures, so just after 8:30 pm I went out and did my famous sun dance! No, there are no more photos, no video! πŸ™‚


Yesterday morning it was of course sunny, because my sun dances always work πŸ™‚ The thick, heavy slush, though, was frozen like concrete on the decks and chairs and vehicles.


With the weather forecast showing the warmest weather we’ve seen in about 9 months, I created this graphic to post on Facebook yesterday morning before going into town: “The healing power of the Wilderness – the mountains and the canyons, free from humans, is calling me…” Getting out was no longer optional – I had to make it happen.


Cathy had told me the previous evening that there was an aircraft from Buffalo Airways parked on the ramp at YXY, and as I was approaching the airport on my way home, I could see that plane moving toward the active runway. As I was driving, I switched to my long lens, and with zero time to spare, I caught a couple of photos as the plane departed. This is C-GZFE, a 1961 Lockheed 188C Electra.

C-GZFE, a 1961 Lockheed 188C Electra

C-GZFE, a 1961 Lockheed 188C Electra

That’s all I can do for now – I need to go to bed for an hour or so to recover from writing that.

Okay, back at it. Having decided that NOW! was the time to get out into the mountains, I put some gear together, and Bella and Tucker and I headed south in the old Tracker at about 2:30. I had no real plans – things would happen as they needed to.

The kids are at least as Adventure-deprived as I am, and though they were clearly not too sure about what was going on, being on the road in their favourite vehicle was a good thing.


Our first photo stop was at Nares Lake, which barely exists in the Spring. When the snow and ice melts, that will be a vast meadow until the water levels start to rise in late June.


It had been over two years since I’d seen the “avalanche” gates just south of Carcross open with no guard or warning signs about the danger of travel.


When I saw this Skagway tour bus southbound, I thought he must have had it in Whitehorse to get some work done on it. Even when I saw him stop at the Bove Island viewpoint and several people get off, it took me a minute to realize that cruise ship season began 3 weeks ago. Geez… πŸ™


I stopped just south of the Venus silver mine, and as soon as I stepped out of the Tracker, the gentle smells of sap and green stuff touched my nose. Ahhhh – magical πŸ™‚


Despite the Spring smells, the wind was very chilly, and on the far side of Windy Arm at Km 76.4 of the highway, it sure looked like Winter.


On the South Klondike Highway, Spring always arrives first on the south-facing slope where the highway descends to Tutshi Lake. That was certainly the case yesterday – all of a sudden the trees and bushes were loaded with buds and various types of pussy willows.


While I was taking photos of pussy willows and such, an old truck stopped ahead and a person started to walk back. I expected it was someone just checking to see if I was okay, stopped out in the middle of nowhere for no clear reason, because that’s what we do in the Yukon. But it was a long-time friend from Carcross. It was so wonderful to see her!

Among other things, she told me about a horrific crash that had occurred a few miles south – a truck had hit and killed several caribou. I followed her south, and was very surprised to see that it was a pickup (not a semi as I had expected), from Chieftain Energy, a Whitehorse fuel supplier (it’s part of Air North).


The carnage was incredible, with 5 dead caribou (including a brand-new calf) scattered in the ditches on both sides of the highway for hundreds of meters. It’s hard to imagine the speed that must have been involved to do that much damage.


I turned around and headed back towards home at that point – I was a mess and my day was over πŸ™

I stopped at what used to be our usual spot at Tutshi Lake, to let the kids run and explore for a while.


There were at least 30 thinhorn sheep (and perhaps some mountain goats as well) high on the slopes all the way from the BC-Yukon border to Pooley Canyon. These sheep, with a few babies, were in a particularly spectacular location.


We got home at about 6:30 pm after 4 hours and 234 km in total. I was very pleased at how it had gone, and will be out again soon.

And now I’m also very pleased that I was able to get this post written πŸ™‚

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