Part 3: 5 Months Across Canada (our first bikepacking trip)
The Yukon: Land of the Midnight Sun
In 2023, my long-suffering partner, Eva, and I embarked on our first bikepacking trip. The journey began at the Arctic Ocean at the northern tip of Canada; we planned to wind our way down the west coast before finally crossing the Rockies to return to Canmore, Alberta, where the initial plans had been hatched.
This video provides an overview of the Yukon segment of our expedition. The section before Dawson City was the most remote region of our journey. By the time we entered the Yukon, we were already 200km into an 800km stretch with no resupply. The video picks up after we had spent a night far too exposed in ‘Hurricane Alley,’ having shared a few beers with some folks heading north. To accompany the video, I’ve included daily journal excerpts below.
Day 1: For my sins... buffeted through Hurricane Alley
The crate, the bottle, the lack of water, the relentless wind, and the resulting lack of sleep all contributed to a rough start in the morning. As soon as we set off, the cross/headwind set in. We pedalled on the wrong side of the road to give ourselves some road to right ourselves if the winds sent us flying! An extra coffee and peanut butter stop by the river really lifted spirits and we carried on across the hills. We picked an average spot to camp in a gravel pit and yet again were blown around by the winds.
52.15 km
Day 2: Eagle Plains was calling
Once the rest day had been confirmed, we set off to the Eagle Plains service station, a petrol station along the Dempster Highway providing fuel and food to those who needed it. The only chance to resupply along the Dempster Highway. Eva seemed to be spurred on by the thought of a hot shower and a hotel room because we set off pretty quick. We had been cursing the headwinds for days and they finally let up; however, with no wind came endless mosquitoes! We were eaten alive in heavy, heavy air. We crossed the Arctic Circle about halfway into the day and the landscape just kept getting better and better as we travelled into the Yukon. Getting to Eagle Plains mid-afternoon, we managed to grab a hotel room for two nights, with a double bed each. Class.
45 km
Day 3: Just a couple of mosquito blood donors passing through
Despite the day of rest, both of us still felt pretty spent. Too much recovery, I say! The bugs came in full force, and it was hard to enjoy the scenery while being pillaged by the mozzies. We had a few hills chucked in as well for good measure. Poor Eva had been crunching antihistamines to curb her reaction to the countless bites. Agonising stuff.
62 km
Day 4: Quest for water
Picking up out of Eagle Plains, there was no water for 120 km, so we had taken two days' worth. With drinking, eating, and washing, I had ended up with 13 litres on the bike! The landscape just kept giving and giving. We found the most idyllic tent pitch by wading through the Ogilvie River, though it was slightly tarnished by the needling onslaught. The mosquitoes got involved pretty quickly every time we stopped. Poor Eva was suffering.
68 km
Day 5: Greedy little clam
We got going pretty quickly to get away from the stagnant swarms. It was a bit of a shame really as we had such a stunning camp. However, the day progressed so well. A light breeze and flat start was a kind beginning to the day. Spirits were high, so we pressed on with a gradual incline which slowly increased as the day drew to a close. Some mileage miscalculations led to us running very low on water, but thanks to the kind souls who gave us some Gatorade and Water, we made it up the final ascent. Yet, the regular shit end of the day continued with us being assaulted by some buzzing pests. Eva had turned a corner and was almost enjoying it.
89 km
Day 6: Budd the secret endurance athlete and our first grizzly
It was a rough start to the day as we were extremely low on calories. We had arrived late to a mosquito and rain onslaught the previous evening, so we had barely eaten at all. Both of us were feeling pretty drained. After a couple of hours, we stopped for an essential chocolate and caffeine hit which certainly helped. We had planned a 45-mile day to ride into Tombstone National Park, but we checked the weather and saw stormy days were due. We found ourselves cycling and stopping to avoid various downpours; in the final stop, we shared some rum and root beer with some ace construction workers, Dwayne and Clayton. The mild numbing and sugar high helped the never-ending incline.
The traverse over the top, as expected, was beautiful. The clouds parted and we were blessed with nearly dry gravel roads. Eva, possessed by the thought of a double dinner, raced up the climb. We joked about the prospect of riding through the night to beat the storm and, much to my amazement, Eva actually wanted to do so. Full of caffeine, carbs, and a touch of alcohol, we continued into the sunlit evening over the Tombstone ridge. It was a shame not to spend longer in the park, but we made the right decision as the weather kicked in for the next few days. We even saw our first grizzly—I got a very shaky video of the bloke in the pickup truck who drove it away for us.
190 km (followed by 3 days rest)
Day 10: Dawson revival? Not really
We set off late after what was supposed to be a few days of R&R. However, the people we met were so hospitable that the days turned into socialising and slow boozing. It wasn't quite the rest we needed. Sluggish legs and the wind in our faces slowed us down considerably. Thankfully, there were a hell of a lot fewer mosquitoes. The Klondike highway was a lot easier to manage than the Dempster, but the traffic passed a lot faster and much closer to us mere pedal folk.
86 km
Day 11: The bloody Tarquinius'
Again, the day started slowly. We had finished the previous day's riding far too late, so we hadn't ended up going to sleep until at least 11 pm. Even after nine or so hours, we were still waking up tired. It was bloody hard to get enough calories in. We covered slow miles over the day while listening to a great pod on the history of Rome. We trudged over the hills until we finally made it to the Moose Creek Campground. We found a spot on a ridge overlooking the creek amongst the trees and quickly decided on another day's rest. The wonders of slow travel.
72 km (followed by 1 day rest)
Day 13: Get me some hot choc and me trotters into a foot spa
We didn't make it even one mile before stopping for a huge brekkie at the Moose Creek Lodge. With stomachs distending, progress was slow, coupled with the inevitable headwind. We had a nice evening by the lake with a swim. We also met Lacey and Craig, who gave us beer and offered us a place to stay in Whitehorse!
54 km
Day 14: Get your lead body away from me, you're blocking my signal
It pissed rain all day. No media! Although, we got to see another grizzly lazily crossing the road, which was a treat. A huge thanks went to Aimee, who gave us all of her food from her cooler and offered us a place to stay in Whitehorse. Once the rain finally relented, we pulled into Pelly Crossing to find out there was a storm coming the following day, so we eased into a motel for the night.
43 km
Day 15: Little Salmon Karen
We beat the bloody storm! It had absolutely hounded it down with rain the 24 hours previous, so we took a day to chill and then set off leisurely from Pelly Crossing. The headwinds continued and the traffic increased over the day. Sadly, the maniacal RV drivers didn't seem to give us quite the berth we were getting on the Dempster. It was great to peruse the silent pavement for a bit, but we had to pedal single file to avoid the four-wheeled onslaught. The long straight roads were getting monotonous, so we planned to head back to the logging roads where possible once we reached Alaska. We found another great spot right by the river; we had been getting very lucky with our freecamping spots of late.
83 km
Day 16: Walloping Mary
The day started off pretty difficult with a slow, gradual uphill battle for almost nine miles, not to mention our old nemesis, the headwind. A sharp adrenaline rush was quickly installed with a brief encounter with an overzealous black bear who couldn't decide whether we were a threat or not. Luckily, it was quickly seen off by the sight of Eva's athletic frame cresting the hill. I did ourselves some damage by completely over-purchasing and over-consuming a shit load of sweets and snacks from Carmacks. Into the sugar K-hole we went. Again, we found a prime sleeping spot right beside the water.
68 km
Day 17: The Braeburn Cinnamon Bun Run
We had the famous Braeburn Lodge en route as a stopping point, so we had their cinnamon bun in mind for a pit stop. It was the biggest pastry I had ever seen. The heat was picking up as we slowly moved out of our second winter for the year. I spent a big chunk of the day catching up with comedy podcasts; one particular episode nearly sent me off the bike as I was in tears by the end. Stabilisers were definitely needed. Progress to Whitehorse was steady, so we tried to spend less time in the saddle and more time at the camp spots. A slow roll into Fox Lake seemed like a risk as it was the tail end of Canada Day, but we got very lucky with a spot right by the lake.
70 km
Day 18: The winds into Whitehorse, rocket man and Budd has started a war
The weather prevailed and blessed us with a tailwind. Easy progress was made into our first city in approximately six weeks. To be honest, the buzz of cars, billboards, and throngs of people was pretty overwhelming. Thankfully, we were put up by an amazing host for a couple of days. It was a beautiful house full of bikes and trails out in the sticks. To top it all off, Tony whipped up some Bibimbap bowls for us once we arrived—a true hero. It was time for a little reset and to knuckle down with some planning for the next leg.
71 km
Final Entry: The Big Pivot
We had a great few days off the bikes—not so much for the rest, but for the brilliant people we met in Whitehorse and then Terrace. While exploring the logistics for our route through Alaska, we eventually found out that there was no longer a ferry back through to BC. Sadly, Eva did not have the time to ride through Alaska, back up to Whitehorse, and then down the 37 through BC. With help from Rad Tony, we explored all options and conjured together an epic journey steering us away from the campers and onto mainly logging roads. We grabbed a flight to Terrace to allow us to cycle to Haida Gwaii, Vancouver Island, and then the Sunshine Coast. It wasn't a plan I was originally onboard for, but it made sense.
The next episode, Haida Gwaii is to come.
