As the river widens out at Hootalinqua, it takes on a completely different character -
calmer somehow than it had been as the "Thirty Mile" (or was it just the last of my city stress dissipating?).
Steven and I pushed the canoe out into the 4-mile-per-hour current, and then totally relaxed so quickly that we
very nearly missed one of the most interesting historic sites on the river,
Shipyard Island - with a huge ship clearly visible among the trees, it would have been hard to drift past
without noticing it, but it took some serious paddling to get to shore!
A surprising amount of mis-information continues to be be published about the 130-foot Evelyn, probably due to
confusion caused by the 2 names visible on the bow. She was built by the Bratnober Company in Seattle in 1908 - working for the Upper Tanana Trading
Company and then the huge North American Trading & Transportation Company (NAT&T), she supplied the trading posts along
the tributaries of the lower Yukon River until 1913 (despite a wreck so serious that a complete new hull had to be built). She was then sold to the Side Steams Navigation Company, who renamed
her the Norcom. She may have only worked for 1 more season before being put on the ways at Hootalinqua (in 1918,
she was "side-tracked" here, meaning that she would probably not be launched again). Most of her machinery was removed
in the 1920s, with the boiler being installed at the Atlin Inn in 1926 to supply power and hot water for a large addition
that had been put on the hotel. As we poked around the ruins of the boat, the ways, and the windlasses and other equipment, it began to rain, softly at first, then
heavier and heavier. The exploration was cut a bit short as we scrambled to get our rain gear on, and paddled back into the main current.
It rained quite heavily all day, so we didn't do any shore explorations, but the river itself was always interesting.
Having driven to Dawson close to 100 times when I was driving tour buses, I was very surprised by how different the country is along the river, and
how often the scenery changes. Although the first 6 or 7 days of the trip were spent in the ecoregion known as the
Central Yukon Plateau, the shore varies from
high basalt walls to rolling, semi-arid hills to lush valleys.
At the abandoned village of Big Salmon, we were very pleased to be able to move into one of the small log cabins so that we could
cook dinner out of the rain. The government is conducting a river travelers' survey to help in setting river management policies, and Ken John, the
Renewable Resources officer stationed at Big Salmon for that purpose, was very enthusiastic about his job on the river - Steven and I had the pleasure of
spending a couple of hours swapping stories with him after dinner.
Just downriver from Big Salmon are 2 small gold dredges which were used in the 1940s - the first one, built by Whitehorse pioneer
Laurent Cyr and partner Boyd Gordon, is in reasonably good condition except for being toppled over into the river, and Steven was intrigued by what a couple of guys with
energy and ingenuity could put together from mostly scavenged parts from old cars and Cats.
To see everything along the river would take 11 months, not 11 days,
and to tell you about it all would take just about that long - we paddled past a large native cemetery at Little Salmon, past the cliffs of Eagle Bluff (the location
of the 1906 explosion of the sternwheeler Columbian which killed 6 people), and past several coal mines dating back to the turn of the century, before arriving
at Carmacks, where we grabbed a burger and re-stocked some fresh groceries (there was no ice available, however). I really hate to have to say this, but don't
leave anything unattended at the Carmacks campground - you may end up walking to Dawson. We only spent an hour there, and moved downriver to a safe gravel
bar to camp.
Once the Klondike stampeders had either run, or freighted around Whitehorse Rapids, the major hazards along the river were at
Five Fingers and Rink Rapids - now, although a great
deal of care needs to be taken while running Five Fingers, they provide more excitement than danger (the bow person is in for a bath, though, so be prepared!)
There are plenty of superb spots to stretch your legs by hiking into the hills - a
magnificent view is provided by climbing up to the easily-visible route of the Whitehorse-Dawson Overland Trail as it
traverses Minto Hill. The road was constructed in 1902 to improve winter transportation to Dawson. With progress changing the vehicles on the road from horse-drawn
sleighs and stagecoaches to tractors, and then to automobiles and trucks, it remained in use until the present highway was built in 1950, and many miles of it are still passable.
Just south of Minto Hill, we saw the first wildlife of the trip, with 17 Dall sheep on 2 hills. Shortly after, we drifted within 30 feet of 2 beaver (the closest
I've ever been to a beaver).
The sight of
Fort Selkirk on the high bank in the distance remains one of the trip's highlights for both Steven and I. First established by the
Hudson's Bay Company in 1848, it has an aura that goes far beyond any other community in the Territory, due to both the length of its history, and the fact
that it was the home of both natives and whites who lived side-by-side generation after generation.
Fort Selkirk - what can I say about this magic place in 2 or 3 paragraphs?
It really deserves a great deal more attention than I can give it here, so there will be a special article on Fort Selkirk coming later.
We spent 21 hours there, and took almost 100 photographs of the 34 buildings and 2
cemeteries -
apart from the work crew and support people, the village was ours. On the previous
day, dozens of people had arrived, stretching the capacity of the campground to the limit. While we were there, several people paddled by without stopping -
while I don't understand why they did it, they have my thanks!
The Yukon Heritage Branch is doing a superb job of restoration and interpretation at Fort Selkirk. The village
maintains a spirit that is virtually unknown in restored ghost towns (or "heritage villages," to use
an even phonier term). Crowds and over-restoration quickly scare ghosts away from places like this, but whispers still eminate from the the dark and
dusty corners here if you listen carefully. The ancestors of the Selkirk First Nation people lived in this area 11,300 years ago - while their voices are silent
in the village, the soldiers,
trappers, traders, schoolteachers and children from the past 100 years are still explaining their lives here, with the help
of guide Maria Van Bibber, who was born here. While life at Fort Selkirk wasn't always easy, Maria speaks of her home with a deep respect and love that
is contagious. She has a large stack of photo albums, with several hundred images from all periods of Fort Selkirk's life, right back to 1894, even before the passing parade of Klondike
stampeders signalled the dramatic changes which were to follow.
We had a hard time leaving Fort Selkirk - there is so much to see. But, there is another 190 miles of river to expore yet.
And, there will definitely be a next time...
Part 1 - Lake Laberge to Hootalinqua
Part 3 - Fort Selkirk to Dawson City
Photo Album - Lake Laberge to Dawson
Books About the Yukon River
