Dawson, Whitehorse and the Yukon, heading home

After ferrying across the Yukon River to Dawson we hit the town in the middle of a big summer weekend. Music in the park, booths and lots of people. I heard music from down the block and added some harmony to a gal singing "Me and Bobby McGee" at the Robert Service Saloon. At the piano, "The kid who handled the music box" was, indeed, "hitting a jag-time tune" (he was very good!)

The road south to Whitehorse roughly follows the trail miners took to get to Dawson and the gold fields. Transport was by wagon in summer and horse drawn sledge by winter with road houses every twenty miles or so. The fare was $150 plus food and lodging; pretty darn pricey for those days! Later on, the stern wheel steamboats made the trail obsolete. Here's the Yukon down in Whitehorse, up on land as a museum.




We had not stayed in a B&B and were pleasantly surprised to find a moderately priced one in Whitehorse with sourdough waffles for breakfast.

Now off the Klondike Loop and joining the Alaska Highway, we turned south onto the Cassiar Highway, 450 miles of remote lakes and mountains.


Here's an obliging moose who interrupted his browse long enough to pose for us.



It was a long trip down the Cassiar. We saw several black bears foraging along the roadside.


After turning east on the Yellowhead (Tete Jaune) Highway we saw some great totem poles at First Nations cultural centers.


Today, we decided to hit the trail for home. After six weeks on the road we are missing Jackson, our friends and our bed. Should be home late tomorrow.