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 highest point Mt. Logan (5,959m; 19,550 ft), stunning scenery, and thick with wildlife. 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 small lake was iced over and showing off with the clouds.

The park is incredibly wild with limitless places 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. SO many wildlife tracks and heaps of scat along the way, more than we’ve ever seen all in one place, a wildlife corridor for sure. Tally loved it too!

Kluane National Park and Reserve 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 there 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.

You know what, we’re big fans of Whitehead. The one regret of our time there was missing the Yukon Beringia Interpretive Center, over which Morgan was very sad… (Morgan here—I’m actually ashamed). We (Morgan) will have to return for their highly lauded exhibits on the Late Pleistocene paleontological and archaeological record and would highly recommend anyone head by!

The next day we returned to Eclipse Nordic Spa for a full day (to make the most of the cost of entrance, and they’re cool with it) of hot soaks, steam rooms, cold plunges, and working in their quaint cafeteria. The place slaps, the food is excellent, though not cheap, and certain days of the week they offer reduced cost entrance. Turns out mid-spa-center-rotations is a lovely and hella zen way to get work done. We’re not saying it’s the only way, but certainly a new preferred way.

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, arctic environment was not forever damaged. Le sigh.

While stationed there, the Smith family made many memories in Alaska. We loved calling them to hear stories about the places they remembered and made it a point to visit those places whenever we could. For example, Lake Laberg…Morgan’s dad’s favorite poet (yes, Phil contains multitudes) is Robert Service. One of the Robert Service classics is “The Cremation of Sam McGee” in the volume “Songs of a Sourdough.” Note: “Sourdough,” in the great northern lexicon, is a resident of Alaska and adjacent Canadian territories (though the term seems less frequent in Canada). Anyways, Lake Laberge (Lebarge, in the poem, perhaps for rhyming) is the setting of the famous poem, and the site of the cremation of Sam Mcgee (naturally, from Tennessee). Said cremation occurs in the firebox of a ship called Olive May (Alice May, in the poem). Basically, we couldn’t miss this famed and family appreciated lake. 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.

Charging on through the Yukon, we rolled into the small town of Watson Lake, which to our total surprise is home to an apparently famous roadside attraction: the Sign Post Forest. What started in 1942 as a whimsical idea by a homesick US soldier, Carl Lindley, who was stationed nearby, now contains an estimated 100,000 artifacts of Alaska Highway trekkers. It spans two acres, with a telephone pole every four feet or so. Each pole is covered in dozens of items—hats, stickers, homemade signs, and even a few that look like they were “borrowed” from somewhere else. It’s 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, lived, and visited. A sticker from Mammoth Lakes, and a large 395 sign. A giant road sign from Chattanooga. A Texas A&M football jersey. Streets from Pensacola, Ft. Collins, Tallahassee, Atascadero, 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.

We woke early the next morning and headed to the Liard River Hot Springs, which was an 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 van/the park to make lunch.

We turned south, officially on the final stretch of the Alaska Highway, arriving in Dawson Creek around noon. Or was it noon? The time zones do REALLY crazy things in this area. 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 had set up shop in the Canadian Tire parking lot (the Fish Bus, as the proprietor called it…) MUCH to Morgan’s delight. Because of course he loves a Fish Bus. 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 (to some) 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!