As an east coast gal, I’ve spent a fair amount of time in Canada. I’ve been to New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia, and many visits to a couple parts of Quebec. We even spent a weekend in Vancouver. But this trip allowed us to really spend some time crossing this vast country. Our friendly neighbor to the north is something special. The people really are nice and kind and welcoming. And mercy, but it is a BIG country. We had two long days of driving, two short days of driving, and two average days to get from the US to the US, from Montana to Alaska. We crossed out of Montana and into Alberta Canada. (Canada has 10 provinces and 3 territories). And we drove and drove and drove, through prairie, and farmland, and forest. We reached Calgary, the capital of Alberta where we spent three nights in an airbnb in the Inglewood neighborhood in order to to some provisioning, cooking, cleaning, and laundry. We also made sure to take advantage of being in a big city. Lots of urban walking, several appointments for grooming, and lots of good food from all over the world.

After Calgary the next leg of our adventure began. We drove through Alberta, into British Columbia, and then the Yukon. We lost count of the bison, caribou, bears, and the wows that one or the other would utter around every bend. We stayed in a different city every night: Valleyview, Fort Nelson, Muncho Lake, Liard Hot Springs, Whitehorse as we followed the Alaska Highway.

We loved being able to enjoy hot springs in two places along the way. Perhaps my favorite stretch was from Muncho Lake, following the Liard River, the Coal River, up to Watson Lake. The scenery is incredible. The amount of wildlife is exhilarating. We were completely enchanted with Muncho Lake. We thought we were only stopping for lunch, but it was so beautiful we ended up staying the night. The lake was thawing and freezing. Candlestick ice was forming. It tinkled like wind chimes as it slowly surged onto the warm(ish) shore. We played like children, tossing rocks, skipping stones, scooping up ice. It was nothing short of magical.

When we crossed into the Yukon Territory I couldn’t believe it. I honestly never thought I would make it so far. The Yukon is the stuff of legends and Christmas specials. In my life it was synonymous with the frozen tundra, Siberia, the Arctic, the North Pole. All impossible, far away places. And yet, somehow we made it. The Yukon is vast, and sparsely populated. We made a point to get gas every chance we had because there were several service areas that were either closed for the season or forever. At one spot, at the junction of 37, Larry pumped gas while I went past two dogs and into the store. The outside boasted souvenirs, postcards, snacks. Inside it was none of that. Or at least not where I could see. What was in there was Dan in his work overalls and counter full of the makings for fishing lures. Bright, shiny, colorful threads. Hand-shaped hooks. Rubbery eyes and bodies and wiggly bits. We got to talking and I wish I could have had a video recording him. I learned more about lures in that 20 minutes than I thought possible. He was colorful, chatty, and funny. Super knowledgeable and full of stories. I wish I could have pulled up a stool and just listened to him. But we still had kilometers to go before we could sleep.

The bulk of the drive through Canada was lovely scenery, zero wifi signal, and ample opportunity for spotting wildlife. The most challenging part of the drive was through the aptly named Destruction Bay, which followed along the western side of Kluane Lake. The winds are high, there’s blowing sand (which gave me ptsd of Valley of the Gods), and the road is incredibly rough and damaged. Frost heaves, potholes, cracks, sinking shoulders, loose gravel, washboard dirt, and broken pavement. You really have no choice except to take it very slow. And even then, your fillings are going rattle quite a bit.

When we return we will be able to linger longer in some of Canada’s most iconic places, but this first leg was all about getting to Alaska.