After driving the “Top of the World” road from the Canadian border, we get into the Dawson City area. This town has been kept to resemble a late 1800s gold rush town. Starting in 1896, the Klondike gold rush brought thousands of people to the Yukon Territory to try their luck in gold mining and panning. In fact, the town still mines millions of dollars of gold from the land each year. We read that it feels like you’re stepping back into time when entering Dawson City. But before you can get there, you have to take a free car ferry across the Yukon River. I suppose not having a bridge fits into the old timey theme.
When we pull up to the river, there are multiple lanes laid out in cones, and signs telling you where to park based on your vehicle’s size. This ferry is only say, 80 feet long, and can only carry 3-7 vehicles across at a time. Aka it’s small as shit and looks terrifying. There are huge RVs in line next to us, and lines of cars across the river waiting to get across. As soon as we pull up, the ferry leaves our side and heads into town with 5 cars. We watch as the ship lumbers slowly across the fast moving water, beaches on the other side, and spits cars out onto the bank. Oh boy. As it makes it way back towards us with a new crop of vehicles, we start to get nervous.
It’s finally our turn to board. First on. We drive up onto the ship, turn off the engine and hope for the best. We take some pics like good tourists, then we’re on our way across. Water splashes up onto my hood as we bump across the water. On the other side, we’re first off. Glad that’s over!
In Dawson, the dirt roads and old building structures do provide an old feel. But the plethora of cars and modern technology remind you that it’s a facade. Oh well, at least they really tried to preserve some of the historic look. It’s not like you could force people to ride horses when they got into town. Although I would be totally in for that…
After chatting with the visitor center folks, we grab some amazing grub, and then head up to a campsite I found online to scope it out. Midnight Dome overlooks downtown Dawson, and provides a perfect camp spot for the night. Wildfire smoke is slowly creeping in and stealing our view, but it’s still pretty amazing. We hang out for a bit, chat with locals, and just chill in the cool, crisp air on this mountain top.
While prepping for this trip, I learned of the sourtoe challenge in this town. At the Downtown Hotel (yes that’s the name, see pic above) there are multiple amputated toes kept by the bar for one reason. To allow folks to take a shot of whiskey with a toe in it. The rules are simple. You can drink it fast, or you can drink it slow, but your lips must touch the toe. I, of course read about this in the comfort of my Panama City apt, and tell everyone that I plan on doing this challenge. But now that we’re actually in town, and getting ready to do the challenge (they only do it from 9-11PM), I’m getting cold feet. After seeing that gross ass hand at Wal Mikes the other day, I start to feel sick about having a cut off toe near my mouth. But Cas tells me to suck it up. I’ve been talking about this challenge for months, and she won’t let me talk myself out of it. Damn.
We decide to get to the hotel bar a little before 9 to scope things out. To our surprise, the challenge has a huge line and is well underway with participants. We grab a shot of whiskey from the bar, a beer, and get in line.
This place is making a killing. You have to buy your whiskey AND pay an $8 toe fee to do the challenge. Pensacola needs something similar! While in line, I watch many, many other people do the challenge and get their certificates. I can do this. Just need to stop thinking about it so much.
Once I’m up there, an old dude dressed like a ship captain describes the rules, and pulls the toe out of rock salt. One shake in front of your face, and then sploosh! The toe is in your drink! A quick shot and it’s done. Not so bad! I take my certificate, shake the captain’s hand, and throw a few bucks in the tip jar. Glad that’s over with!
After my shot, we see an old man who can’t start his car. Cas chases him down, we pull the truck up, and give him a jump. With all this good karma, let’s go to one more bar! It’s early still! Getting into another bar, we finally realize that it is in fact an hour earlier as we crossed into Pacific Time and didn’t realize it. No wonder the sourtoe line was already packed. It’s now 11PM, bright as shit outside, and we’re singing along to a cover band playing Fleetwood Mac. Life is good.
The next day, we’re headed to Whitehorse and Carcross. Whitehorse in another large city in the Yukon, but I’ve already spent 3 days there wandering around. There isn’t much I want to show Cas here. As we pull into the visitor center, a huge storm starts rolling in. We pack up our things and head out to the Carcross desert which is just south of Whitehorse. Also, Carcross is short for “Caribou Crossing.”
Carcross claims to have the smallest desert in the world. I found out about this place in the same book I learned about the sourtoe challenge Atlas Obscura. It’s not really a desert, just an old dried up lake bed that has deposited a lot of sand. It’s an adorable little desert! We walk around the dunes, explore the high points, and run down the steep slopes. We even spot some cool camp spots!! We decide to camp here for the night. Oh did I mention we saw a grizzly bear with three cubs here? So damn adorable! Cas can no longer claim she has seen zero bears.
As we walk back to the truck, about 10 cars pull up with ATVs and loud music bumping. All we can hear are ATV engines and yelling. This really is shaping up to be a redneck riviera. Let’s find another camp spot. Apparently it’s about to be Canada Day? Oh shit, that’s apparently a big deal in Canada… That’s why all these people are out and about.
We leave the desert and and find another nearby camp spot. I’m so thankful we did, because this one was quiet and beautiful! Two French Canadians were already there, but they didn’t mind us joining them in conversation. Cas decides to go for a swim in the lake, and I watch from shore while drinking a beer.
The next morning, we head into the town of Carcross to see what’s there, but we get quickly stuck in a Canada Day parade. Good thing the town has like, 30 people in it, so the parade is short lived. This town is adorable, and very much geared to mountain biking (see what I did there??) We walk around for a bit, buy some cookies, then head on our way to Watson Lake. We have a lot of driving over the next few days, so we need to stay moving.
On our way out we get caught in another adorably small Canada Day parade, but no matter. Bears dot the roadside and are crossing everywhere here, so it’s a slow drive regardless. After about 6 hours on the road, we hit Watson Lake. I wanted to come here because of another Atlas Obscura section that told me about a sign post forest. We expect a few signs to be erected for a fun photo opt, but holy shit we were wrong. This was a damn forest!! We wander around for a bit, then get asked by some local homeless people for money. That was our cue to leave.
Oh did I mention I have a gnarly case of athlete’s foot? It’s bad. So, you know, if you see me wearing flip flops, that’s why.
Being Canada Day, not much is open (I was searching for athlete’s foot cream). We head to Boya Lake Provincial Park down the Cassiar Hwy, and pray there is a spot open. When we get there, we see it’s packed. I don’t think we’re getting a spot unfortunately. But, then after all odds, we find a spot tucked away next to another RV! What luck! We settle into what remains of Canada Day, and have a great fire.
The next day is more driving. I want to get to Smithers, BC so we can tour the cute downtown area together. Cas is getting tired of the long drives, but at least there is tons of cool wildlife to spot!
