We've been traveling through Canada in our van for several weeks now. You can read about our journey so far here on our travel route and in many other blog posts.
Pure nature and solitude in the Yukon
Every adventurer's heart beats faster at the mere mention of the wild Yukon. This is the third-longest river in North America, steeped in myth and legend, not only among the First Nations . Like a lifeline, the Yukon flows through the territory of the same name in northwestern Canada, then continues into Alaska, and finally empties into the Bering Sea.
The Yukon region is larger than Germany in area but has only about 44,000 inhabitants (as of 2022 according to statista.de ) and roughly ten main roads. As you can see, that sounds like a lot of wide open space and unspoiled nature! Yukon borders Alaska to the west and the Arctic Ocean to the north. It is predominantly characterized by boreal coniferous forest and Arctic tundra, rich in rivers and lakes, and crisscrossed by mountains. The Yukon is home to a diverse array of wildlife, from large grizzly bears, moose, and elk to caribou, badgers, wolverines, smaller deer, and even wild horses. Countless bird species inhabit the many lakes and soar through the skies.
The Yukon is a still very pristine region, yet it has been developed for tourism, although the Alaska Highway was originally a military route and the Klondike Highway is an old gold rush route that had very different motivations for its development. We drove Highways 1, 2, and 4 and were thus able to explore a large part of the region, from the high mountains in the west to the vast forests in the south and east. We only skipped the far north, which is served by the 700-kilometer-long Dempster Gravel Highway .
Watson Lake: The Gateway to the Yukon
The small town of Watson Lake in the south describes itself as the gateway to the Yukon. And it's true, because every traveler more or less automatically passes through here. Here you can restock your supplies and continue north towards Highway 4 or 1. Watson Lake itself is known for the "Sign Post Forest," a "forest" made up of license plates and road signs. This attraction is definitely worth a stop. The sign forest is like a journey around the world, with signs from America, Europe, and Oceania, left here by travelers as souvenirs. We, too, have joined this tradition and are now immortalized among the many explorers of the Yukon.
Traveling on the Alaska Highway
For our journey north, we chose the legendary 2,237-kilometer-long Alaska Highway (Highway 1), which was built in just eight months during World War II from Dawson Creek to Anchorage, Alaska, to ensure the supply of the military in Alaska. Today, the well-maintained route through a sensational landscape is primarily used by tourists. Old steel bridges span rushing rivers, their banks and islets littered with driftwood, and the road winds alongside seemingly endless lakes. Time and again, the road climbs to higher elevations, offering spectacular views of the surrounding landscape.
Capital of the Yukon: Whitehorse
After about 400 kilometers, you reach Whitehorse, the capital of the Yukon. The majority of the population lives here. There's an airport with international connections (even twice a week from Frankfurt in the summer), and from here most adventurers set off with rental cars or campers, canoes, and floatplanes to explore the Yukon. In Whitehorse, you also encounter the legendary Yukon River for the first time, its waters winding through the city in emerald green.
Where are they, the typical Canadian salmon?
Our first stop was a fish ladder on the east bank of the Yukon River, the longest wooden fish ladder in the world. At the visitor center there, you can watch the passing fish – mostly salmon in the summer – through glass panels. Unfortunately, there are very few salmon this year, due to various factors, but this is cause for concern. The salmon run is actually one of the most important ecological events for Canada's flora and fauna. Not only do the animal predators that hunt the salmon live off them, but many plants also absorb the nutrients that are released into the soil as the carcasses decompose.
Somewhat disappointed at not having seen any of the one- to one-and-a-half-meter-long fish, we walked along the Yukon River on a hiking and biking trail towards downtown. The trail is a lovely and welcome change of pace, as it finally allows us to take a longer, relaxed walk with the stroller and children's bikes and stretch our legs properly, since it's not so easy to find suitable hiking trails in the area. Sometimes there simply aren't any trails, or we're plagued by so many mosquitoes that getting out of the car is absolutely no fun, or there's too much bear activity.
Urban flair in Whitehorse
The sun was shining, the weather was mild and finally summery; the first impression of Whitehorse was different than expected. Up until now, towns in remote areas had been more like practical clusters of various necessary shops and supply stations. In contrast, Whitehorse presented itself as a vibrant, diverse, and urban city with restaurants, cafes, interesting shops selling more than just camping and sporting goods, and modern museums with impressive architecture.
The atmosphere was immediately different, and the diverse locals mingled well with the travelers who used the city as a base and shopping destination. We finally treated ourselves to dinner again, a rare treat with children. We were surprised to find a pizza at "Dirty Northern" with a truly delicious base, crispy edges, and a truffle-arugula topping (a completely new taste for us after weeks).
Small camping joys in the Yukon
Unfortunately, the campground near the city is closed for renovations until 2023, so we set up camp at the RV park on Stewart Service Road and stayed there for the next few nights. The RV park is cramped and less charming than the lovely campgrounds and campsites we'd visited in the woods over the past few weeks, but it had everything we needed and, most importantly, a base for a few nights where we could spread out again. Here you'll find good washing machines, a small store, and hot showers (without having to press a button every 30 seconds). Plus, you can cycle down the hill to Whitehorse in about 15 minutes – although it takes 30 minutes to cycle back up.
There's plenty for kids to discover in Whitehorse too, including two huge playgrounds at opposite ends of the city, and the MacBride Museum , which vividly illustrates the Yukon's wildlife, First Nations culture, and the Gold Rush. Unfortunately, the Transport Museum and the Bernina Railway were closed during our visit, but they were highly recommended. Our days in Whitehorse flew by and will remain a cherished memory for a long time.
The North of Canada: Kluane Lake in the Yukon
But we continue westward, along the Alaska Highway toward Haines Junction and the Kluane National Park located there. This park forms only a small part of a much larger nature reserve that stretches across British Columbia in the south and into Alaska in the west. The glaciers here form the largest ice field south of the Arctic Circle.
We first drove south to Kathleen Lake in the park and set up camp there, but due to strong winds, we only stayed one night and half a day before continuing north to Kluane Lake, the largest lake in the Yukon. We wanted to try out our newly acquired SUP, which we had wanted for a long time and bought in Whitehorse. In Canada, a watercraft definitely makes sense, as there are few hiking trails in some areas, and you can find your way by water.
The journey there is even more breathtaking than the one to the south! Again and again, sweeping views open up, revealing glacier-capped mountain peaks. Kluane Lake itself is fed by a delta, into which the ice masses of a massive glacier melt. A long-distance hiking trail along the delta can be followed all the way to the glacier's tongue, but unfortunately not for us, as cycling is prohibited due to increased bear activity. The delta is drying out more and more as the glaciers recede, revealing a unique and incredibly fascinating landscape.
Grizzlies, horses, which ones: wild fauna in the Yukon
Since we unfortunately didn't want to enter the USA and therefore Alaska yet (for visa reasons), we drove back towards Whitehorse to take the Klondike Highway towards Dawson in the coming days. This marked the beginning of a sensational evening/night, as we were able to observe a great deal of wildlife along the road. First, we saw a grizzly mother with her two cubs, who were being chased by a male grizzly. This was followed by wild horses, elk, and a huge eagle owl with a rabbit in tow.
We almost felt like we were driving through an enclosed safari park, but we were actually on a normal highway and the animals roamed freely in their natural habitat. Above all, observing them from the car is a pleasant way to do so; you don't stress the animals and can observe their behavior calmly and safely.
A breathtaking spectacle: Northern Lights in the Yukon
After this exciting drive, we arrived at Fish Lake near Whitehorse almost by chance. It was already quite late, around 12:30 a.m., and a routine check of the aurora app briefly took our breath away. The app shows the area where the Northern Lights are likely and solar storm activity is high in red. We were right in the middle of this red zone! Looking outside, we saw some gray cirrus clouds, but suddenly they began to move in a wave-like pattern – clearly, this was atypical for normal clouds.
We grabbed our camera and phone, and suddenly the wonderful, typical colors of the Northern Lights appeared on the screens: lots of green, red, and purple at the peaks. The intensity increased with each passing minute, and the sky now resembled a single, pulsating, ghostly display, 360 degrees around us. The aurora grew ever more intense, and the night sky became truly bright. Now, even without the camera, the green hues were visible, albeit faintly. We were captivated by this natural spectacle, feeling almost hallucinatory or intoxicated, and still couldn't quite grasp our good fortune that night. Of course, we had hoped to see the Northern Lights in the Yukon, but so many factors are necessary for that, and they rarely coincide in August.
For two whole hours we watched the dancing lights outdoors in the cold six degrees Celsius before we were rocked to sleep, frozen through, inside and through the skylight.
On the way to Dawson City in the Yukon
After this eventful night, the next day started rather calmly. Luckily for us, the children had already adjusted to the rhythm of the setting sun and went to bed accordingly late, but slept quite late (currently usually until nine o'clock). We took advantage of the proximity to Whitehorse to restock all our supplies, fill up on water, and then continued north along the Klondike Highway towards Dawson City.
The Klondike Highway , a relic from the gold rush era, was the link to the rich goldfields along the Klondike River in Dawson City. Today, it is one of two roads heading north, is fully paved, and its first section leads through a diverse landscape of lakes, mountains, and forests. The vastness of the north became apparent to us on this stretch, as apart from a few isolated gas station villages, there are hardly any settlements of any significance between Whitehorse and Dawson.
We made good progress; the Yukon River accompanied us again from Carmacks, and relatively soon we reached the Five Finger Rapids, a narrow passage with five rocks through which paddle steamers once had to navigate with great difficulty. After passing several construction sites, we finally reached the gold rush town of Dawson City, where the asphalt changes to gravel and you walk through a historic museum town on wooden boardwalks, just as the gold miners did 100 years ago.
Following in the footsteps of the gold diggers
Dawson City arose during the gold rush; what began as a small tent settlement quickly grew into a metropolis of the North thanks to the 40,000 arriving explorers. Half of the arrivals were in search of gold, while the other half, arguably the more astute, focused on the trades involved in supplying the gold seekers. With accommodations and equipment, pubs and entertainment, there was certainly good money to be made.
Today, Dawson is a tourist magnet for every adventurer who wants to relive the atmosphere of that era, a final destination in the north or a stopover for those tackling the Dempster Highway, but also a haven for dropouts and hippies seeking their freedom and solitude here in the north. And it's precisely this diverse mix that you'll encounter on the road or at the campground located on the other side of the Yukon River.
Relaxed people in Dawson City
From the campsite, you can explore Dawson on foot, so we strolled through the town, walked along the boardwalk past the picturesque facades, and met locals who mostly only spend the summers there. At Julia's, the friendly owner of the Wildflower Boutique, we were immediately invited into her garden for drinks with friends. They were all aging hippies, celebrating the sunshine.
Our mini gold rush in the Yukon
We were advised to stay for the upcoming Discovery Days, Dawson's town festival. We stayed, and why not? We had no other commitments and felt comfortable in the small community. Of course, we couldn't leave Dawson without trying our luck at Claim 6, the only freely accessible spot for gold panning on the Eldorado River. Aside from the realization of how hard life must have been back then, we didn't find anything, but the whole river glittered, and there's plenty of rock that, upon closer inspection, is beautiful and fascinating.
The day of the town festival was particularly hot, and we had actually expected a bit more from the event, especially from the farmers' and artists' market, but also from the much-hyped baseball game. But perhaps it's precisely this simple, relaxed atmosphere that fascinates the people here in Dawson. So we left the town, and thus the northernmost point of our trip, and sped back south.
The return journey via the Top of the World Highway and thus to Alaska would certainly have been exciting, however, we do not have an extended tourist visa for the USA and we definitely wanted to use the regular 90 days in the coming autumn without possibly being turned away at the border to the mainland.
We rarely like to drive roads twice, but on the Klondike Highway, or at least the section up to Carmacks, we had no other choice.
Off into solitude on the Robert Campbell Highway
After Carmacks, we left the familiar route and turned onto the Robert Campbell Highway , a gravel road of almost 500 kilometers and the alternative route back to the Alaska Highway. The road wound its way beautifully between mountain ranges, alongside rivers and lakes, and of course through extensive forests. Here we drove the longest leg of our journey in the Yukon, about 360 kilometers back to Watson Lake, without any settlements, gas stations, or other supplies.
There was also no cell phone reception, so we were completely on our own if we needed to get stranded. We had checked our spare tire and tools beforehand, but we still didn't want to break down. The track was easy to drive on and we made surprisingly good time. There are a few basic campsites along the route, but only a few places to leave the road or park. We didn't see a single hiking trail, so you should find accommodation for the night early on or head to one of the campgrounds.
We spent the night at Simpson Lake, another stunningly beautiful lake with a government campground, though unintentionally, as we would have preferred to find a campsite earlier had we not driven through a dying forest fire area. The next morning, we went out again on the crystal-clear lake with our SUPs and finished our loop at Watson Lake, thus bidding farewell to the Yukon.
Goodbye Yukon – the detour was worth it!
Overwhelmed by the impressions of the past few weeks, we are grateful for the wonderful time we spent in the Yukon. Ever since we started planning the trip, the Yukon has been one of our dream destinations. During our weeks here in Canada, we debated at length whether we should really embark on the long journey, as the stories of this year's mosquito plague, numerous local forest fires, and still bad weather had influenced and worried us. But we followed our hearts and were rewarded with nature, wilderness, freedom, and above all, sunshine and hardly any mosquitoes. Once again, it has been shown that you shouldn't base your plans on the experiences of others, but rather decide solely for yourself.
Goodbye Yukon, we'll be back, for sure. For a canoe trip or a dogsled ride.
