Wildlife! And entering the Yukon

I wake to the a subtle, small, high pitch whine. It’s insistent. Mosquitoes in the van. I slept with a window cracked like a fool. There are only a few, judging by the sound’s intermittence. As I’ve said before, dealing with a finite number of mosi’s (a wording I picked up from my Australian friends way back on the Appalachian trail- Hi guys!) is a task that is at least surmountable. I close the window and lay back down. The only part of me that’s exposed is my head, as the nights have already turned cold. As the whine’s volume increases, I open my eyes and locate one on the approach – Smack! I clap it in my hands, leaping from my blanket hide. One more down. Turns out there are only four or five to deal with and I’m back in the relative silence of my van. Debating a bit more sleep, I look at my watch.

4:11. What? It looks like the light of 4 pm not am. This place is strange. I hear the world awake or wakening outside. Mentally I check my own wakefulness and decide not to fight it. Time to get up.

I see my first bear of the trip not twenty minutes later. He lazily looked up from his grassy spot on the side of the road as I zoomed up on him. Slowing only a bit to snap a quick picture I went on about my early morning drive with a bit of a smile. Two more of his friends were just around the next bend, and another not too long after. Four bears before five o’ clock. Not bad.

Evidently, you aren’t supposed to stop for a couple reasons. Traffic issues, which makes plenty of sense. This is a 100km/h stretch of road to be dead stopped on (or not far enough off the road). But a seemingly more important one, and one I hadn’t given enough thought to is for the bear. Habituating it with the presence of people (not just the car) makes it one step closer to not fearing people. This then primes the bear to get a bit too brave and too close in the future. Bears without a fear of people evidently are put down to avoid more serious encounters.

So, I obey and continue on. I’m really just happy to see ‘em anyway. I don’t have quite the good enough zoom lens to get the awesome close up shot I’d like to without getting a bit too… habituated.

In the early -I want to say early morning light, but it looks like noon for some damn reason- early morning hours, I pull into the town of Fort nelson to get some more gas. I’m hoping its got the pumps we are used to, with credit card readers on them that the customer uses. It’s been about 50/50 to find those or go in to pay an attendant. I don’t mind the human interaction, but its only five am. The first station I pull up to is the modern pump, but they are off because the station is closed. One block down (this town actually has three!) there is another station. It’s a Husky brand station, of which I’ve seen quite a few. I pull up and start the process. I’ve finally gotten it all figured out too.

It’s not too complex or anything, but it’s a pre-pay thing. You input how much you’d like to have your card authorized for. On first glance, it sure seems like pre paying at a counter here. Ya better know how much to put in. I’ve come to realized that here, you only really get charged what you pumped. But, its in Litres and Canadian dollars… so there’s a bit of mathing if you want to be totally aware of what you’re spending.

So, I’m doing my thing when a voice startles me a bit.

“Hey there! You’re up early. Where ya headed”

“Uh, Alaska”

“Today? Well you are gonna need some gas!”

“No, I’m not sure how far today” I say with a smile.

“Gettin' it all figured out with your card already?”

“Yeah…”

At this point I’m sure I’ve done something wrong. Perhaps he just comes out anytime he spots American (U.S.) plates. Or perhaps I had the procedure wrong the whole time and I’ve been overcharging myself… or I’ve been ripping off every gas station from to northern British Columbia. Great. Some one called ahead and he’s been waiting for me.

“Well, can I help ya or are you gonna do it all?" He’s got gloves on and points to the handle, just as I put the nozzle into the van.

“I’ve got it, I think”

He says “well ok. Have a good one.” And heads back inside. That’s when I glance up at the sign at the entrance that says Full service. As in, not self service. He was supposed to pump for me. Oops.

Aside from that little blunder, the day gets started off well. I grab some Canadian cash from the ATM inside, just good to have, I think. (I should’ve gotten some well before I’ve nearly crossed an entire province.) And I get on my way. The kilometers go by quickly. The speeds aren’t nearly as high across Canada as we are used to, but there’s so much to see and my timetable is so open, I don’t mind. I Explore a few side roads to lakes or creeks or rivers, and the occasional campground just to see what’s on offer. Free firewood for one thing. That’s pretty cool.

After a short mandatory break in the way of a single lane stretch of road, necessitating a

pilot car follow, I start seeing more wildlife. They’re either rams or “stone’s sheep”, which read mention of on some signs. They are even more brave/brazen/unintimidated than the bears. They seem to be licking some minerals from the roadside as spot bunch after bunch of the little guys. Some are very young. Snapping a few photos, the day rolls on. I keep seeing these wonderfully informative signs detailing the hikes that originate from them. They have all you need to know, a map, gradient, expected travel times… everything. It takes some effort not go spend all day hiking. Pressing on.

I’ve driven past many farms or ranches and seen a few horses in their fenced in fields so far, but today I saw some SLEEPING. They were laying down on their sides head all stretched out. I don’t think I’ve EVER seen that before. Maybe I’m just sheltered, but I was really excited and even had to find a place to turn around so I could go back and check it out. By the time I got back to them they had woken up. Most were standing, a few still down but just with their legs folded underneath and heads up. Dang.

Along with the itch to go gallivanting on the local hikes (I did bring all my gear to do so for days) I’m really feeling the pull to the water. I’ve got my packraft. It would be so easy. But, I don’t know the waters and I don’t have a great way to gather the needed info on the fly. My plan is to talk to the outfitters found in the towns to come and make some plans. Someone has to run shuttle or I’ve got to paddle/hike or hike/paddle. It’ll happen, just be patient.

I see a few more bear and a bunch of Bison. Keeping count of my wildlife encounters may become difficult.

Before passing the 60th parallel into Yukon, an almost impossible chance meeting happened. Not exactly to me, but its amazing these two other people met. I’m driving along, thinking about how well the road system throughout all of BC has been, with regular pull offs with bear proof garbage cans for all which has created a totally litter free experience for me, when I pull of for gas. This one is a small station associated with a small campground. It has older pumps, clearly identified from the road. I pull up behind a homemade truck bed slide in type camper that is wonderfully “hippie”. Hand painted, with phrases like, “in no rush… all we have is time” and a FROM/TO like on a Christmas present. FROM: Alaska. TO: Argentina. They had a website or email or something painted on too “follow our journey”. Man, I should be sending all you guys their way. My trip’s got nothing on them. But, speaking of hippies, I look in the lane on the other side of the pump (as the attendant rushes out to start taking care of us all) and see an awesome turquoise VW Campervan. Not tricked out and with 4x4 as is very popular these days, but just an old hippie bus. And on the window it had painted something about selling stickers and postcard to fuel their gas, as well as their social media info. And just below that “follow our journey from ARGENTINA to ALASKA! What are the odds? I can only imagine the conversation those two duo’s had as I pulled away and they lingered to talk.

I’ve made it to Yukon, just outside of Watson Lake. I’m checking out one of the “government campgrounds” to see how they differ from the “provincial” ones of BC. This is the first time I’ve payed for any accommodation on this trip, perhaps the last. We’ll see.

That’s enough for one post. As always, more to come!