Part 3 of 3: Our Drive Through Canada, From Alaska

Having immensely enjoyed our time in Alaska, and seeing the weather closing in, we made our way back to the Alcan Border. This stretch of road on the Alcan is quite rough, numerous frost heaves and broken pavement, that if marked are only done so by tiny little cones on the side of the road.

After driving a good ways, we were excited to spend the night in Kluane National Park, home to Canada’s high point Mt. Logan (5,959m; 19,550 ft). We stopped at a small area near the south tip of Kluane Lake at the bank of Slim’s River, which originates from the Kaskkawulsh Glacier.

The scenery is stunning and these are Canada’s tallest and most massive mountains, if not the most impressive. This park is incredibly wild with limitless thinks to paddle, hike, climb and explore. We went for an awesome 6 mile run up the Slims River Valley, catching a peak of the glacier from afar, before turning back. This was an area we had hoped to spend more time in on the way back, but since the goal was Alaska and we got lucky with great weather through October, we spent more time than expected their at the expense of this gem. It’s on the absurdly long and impossible list of “one day…”

We made the short drive into Whitehorse late morning, and hung about the town, which felt familiar at this point. We went to an excellent Korean spot, Yukon Bunsik, relaxed and did a bit of work, and then had drinks at the Dirty Northern Bastard, which was recommended to us by locals. The main regret was missing the Yukon Beringia Interpretive Center, over which Morgan was very sad… (Morgan- I’m actually ashamed :() We will have to return for their highly lauded exhibits on the Late Pleistocene paleontological and archaeological record and would highly recommend anyone head by!

We parked at the city camper parking again and returned to Eclipse Nordic Spa for a full day of hot soaks, steam rooms, cold plunges, and working in their quaint cafeteria. Morgan’s family spent about a year in Alaska when his grandfather, Ellis Rountree Smith, was stationed there helping to oversee the construction of the Distant Early Warning (DEW) Line: a 6,200 mile long RADAR array spanning the North American arctic circle, from Baffin Island, Canada, to Point Hope, AK. The point of the DEW line was to provide early warning of nuclear missile strikes over the arctic circle by Russia during the Cold War. While the US was eager to build the line, we were less willing to help mitigate the environmental consequences of the project, only kicking in about 1/6th of the costs to ensure the sensitive, artic environment was not forever damaged.

During this time, the Smith family made many memories in Alaska, and it was fun to routinely call them and ask about places they remembered, doing our best to visit them whereever we could. Morgan’s dad’s favorite poet (yes, he contains multitudes) is Robert Service, and one the Robert Service classics is “The Cremation of Sam McGee” in the volume “Songs of a Sourdough.” “Sourdough,” in the great northern lexicon, is a resident of Alaska and adjacent Canadian territories (though the term is less frequent in Canada). In the famous poem, the setting is mostly Lake Laberge (Lebarge, in the poem.), where the cremation of Sam Mcgee (naturally, from Tennessee), occurs in the firebox of a ship, Olive May (Alice May, in the poem). We made it a point to visit this to the delight of Morgan’s dad. To our delight, as we camped along the shore of Lake Laberge at Laberge Campground, we were treated to an incredible aurora around 2:00am, the best of the trip.

The next day, we fueled up and resupplied for the last stretch. We passed quite a few familiar sites and eventually waved at the Stewart-Cassiar turnoff, where we continued east. Charging on through the Yukon, we hit the mall town of Watson Lake, which to our total suprise is home to one of the delightful roadside attractions: the Sign Post Forest. Now, there may be many such places around the world, and a quick Google search does turn up a few imposters. However, there is only one light this, I can guarantee that. What started as a whimsical idea by a homesick US soldier, Carl Lindley, stationed nearby in 1942, now contains an estimated 100,000 artifacts of Alaska Highway trekkers spread across two acres. Every 4 ft or so, a telephone pole embedded in the ground may bear dozens of items, from hats, to stickers, to homemade signs, to ones apparenetly liberated from their former home, creating a dazzling display of geography. We anticipated spending no more than 15 minutes or so stretching our legs, but spent over an hour walking the entire forest, taking delight in references to places we have loved, visited, and called home. A small sticker from Mammoth Lakes. A giant road sign from Chattanooga. A Texas A&M football jersey. Streets from Pensacola, Ft. Collins, Tallahassee, San Luis Obispo, and on and on. Feeling unprepared but determined to leave our mark, we crafted a sticker with our names, dated it, and slapped it on the Chattanooga sign, taking care not to obscure names scribbled in Sharpie all over the place… at least we had more to stake our claim with than some!

We made it to Coal River for a quick fuel up and headed on a bit to Muncho Lake Provinicial Park, planning a quick jaunt into the famed Laird Hot Springs the next day. We sat about enjoying each others company and sipping wine, treated to another display of auroras, this time with a deep red color in addition to the green we had enjoyed several times now. We woke early the next morning and headed to the hot springs, which was a absolute delight. We had it mostly to ourselves and spent a hour or so soaking and warming ourselves to the core. The springs are scattered about, creating pockets of hot and cold throughout the pool, with the gradient reaching as high as 106 or so. As the morning progressed, families and couples started to trickle in, and we headed back to our car. We drove on through Laird River Canyon, seeing tons of wildlife about, particularly moose, bison, and caribou. We took a short hike to Muncho Lake Mineral Lick, at which faunal material was scattered about. As always, Tally was the most excited about the brief escape. We gased up in Summit Lake, charged on to Fort Nelson where we grabbed gas again. We turned south, officially on the final stretch of the Alaska Highway, arriving in Dawson Creek around noon. After our obligatory photos with the famed Alaska Highway sign and a pint at Post and Row Brewing Company, we made a stop at a Canadian Tire (seriously, you gotta go). A quirky bus parked in the lot (the Fish Bus, as the proprietor called it…) delighted Morgan. On his quest for black cod, he ran in, disregarding the suspicious exterior… Floridian’s are accustomed to fish on wheels, it seems. No black cod, but some delicious candied salmon was acquired, a real treat for the next few days. We headed through Jasper, our first visit since the devastating 2024 wildfire that destroyed about a third of the town. The wildfire tore through the residential area, with flames reported to be over 50m high on their approach to town, and hard reduced several landmarks in the town in cinders. A mobile home village of temporary housing had been set up on Connaught Drive, the main drag. Nonetheless, Jasper had cleared dusted itself off and was in the midst of rebuilding and the sense of town pride was deep. We went in several stores selling artworks and materials commemorating the event, the proceeds of which were dedicated to the recovery effort. Jasper has been special to us since our first visit and we bought a small painting to chip in. We did the epic drive to Banff via icefields parkway, heading to Calgary to catch our first NHL match together: the Calgary Flames vs. the Winnipeg Jets. Though the home team would fall to the Jets, it was a night where Canada won: the real sporting event, watched by everyone in attendance on cell phones and even broadcast on the jumbotron, was the Toronto Blue Jays clinch of their World Series berth over the Mariners, taking the East title. The crowd went berserk and the the hockey game even stopped for a minute or so during the celebration.

After this, we did a driving tour of Calgary, visiting neighborhoods like Inglewood, Beltline, Bridgewood, and Kinsignton. Content with closing out this phase and moving to the next, we charged on to Sherida, Wyoming, to meet up with Nessie’s family, Jim and Steph Mokler, who Morgan met for the first time! We spent a few days getting the tour of Sheridan. Jim took Morgan on a drive in his Corvette (at reasonable speeds, of course) and Nessie and Steph went to a local farmers market. When we arrived back, Angus had puked on their *white* sofa, and we were horrified. Fortunately, it cleaned perfectly, a plus of expensive furniture treatments, and Jim and Steph laughed it off with characteristic grace. Content to recharge at home, we charged back, with a requisite pit-stop in Chicago to see friends, before heading to the FFA convention in Indianapolis. Finally, after our first 4 month of the road and the Panamerican Highway north, we pulled into Chattanooga, excited to rest, reset, and continue on!