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Chapter Three - Crossing North America
Go to Home or Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
July finally arrived and my children Geneva and Erik were away at summer camp for the month. Helena, my wife, and I started the Tatra and took off across the continent full of excitement. It was a beautiful trip, we took a northern US Route through Michigan and caught a converted train ferry across Lake Michigan to Wisconsin. We drove through the beautiful dairy region and stopped for lunch in Oshkosh where a fellow engaged us in conversation about the Tatra, not an unusual occurrence. He said he had a book that I might like and after driving to his house for coffee he presented me with a copy of Julius Mackerle's book on air-cooled Engines in English! Now for those not into Tatra lore, Julius Mackerle is a noted expert on air-cooled engines who worked with Hans Ledwinka at Tatra and was responsible for the engineering behind the Tatra 603. Not the kind of everyday reading one expected to find in middle America.From Oshkosh, we took the rolling small roads through Wisconsin to Minnesota where we stayed at a newly restored Bed and Breakfast. The owners were Classic car fans and so we got a tour of all things Studebaker and a delicious breakfast to set us off on our way. From Minnesota we headed through South Dakota on our way to see Mount Rushmore where the busts of American Presidents are carved out of a granite mountain.
We arrived late in the evening and had to negotiate a steep hill leading to a driveway behind the bed and breakfast we had booked. The Tatra didn't have the power to get up the hill even in first, I should have known this was a omen. The next morning we headed to Mount Rushmore and parked the Tatra in a covered parking garage. After we looked around Mount Rushmore we came back to the car during a downpour.
"...received Tatra parts faster than any American car part!"
This gave me some time to check out the problem of lack of power and to my suprise I found that the foot on rocker arm number eight had come off and was now lost somewhere in the engine. I spent the next few hours trying to locate this small but potentially damaging piece of hardened steel but to no avail. As a temporary fix, I removed both rocker arms so that the valves would neither open nor shut and drove back to our motel on seven cylinders. A phone call to Gary and a long discussion ensued. Either I find the rocker arm foot and heat fit the holding pin back in or get a new rocker arm from a spare parts that Gary had packed away for the Yukon/Alaska part of the trip. Deciding to try both, Gary FedExed the spare part to Rapid City and I picked it up at the depot. I received the Tatra part in less then 12 hours, much faster than I could have gotten any American car part.
It was time for Helena to fly back to Toronto to pickup the kids from camp and then to fly to Prince Rupert with them to meet me. I was alone now. The sun in South Dakota was very hot but I found a cool spot in the shade behind an auto parts store and proceeded to replace the rocker arm. Parking close to a friendly auto parts store was very convenient because anything I needed was easily purchased and the owner went out of his way to help and let me use his small shop. After dismantling a number of parts I finally found the little hardened steel rocker arm foot just about to go down the oil return lines. I plucked it out with my newly purchased magnet pickup tool. The rocker arm Gary sent was unfortunately slightly different in size, so I attached the new foot onto the original rocker arm. After a long day and many sodas the Tatra was again roadworthy. During my repairs a number of local Rapid City car enthusiasts came by to check out the Tatra. I must admit I spend as much time “chewing the fat” with the locals as repairing the Tatra.
Next morning the temperature was hot and rising as I headed into Montana. Hot, dusty and open plains without very much traffic. I was headed for the Little Bighorn Battlefield that was the scene of the last big Native Indian battle with the US Army known as Custer’s Last Stand. The national park is well worth the visit, the US Government interpreters were fantastic and expertly brought history alive with their spell binding talks of the last hours of General Custer against the united Native Indian tribes. I noticed that just recently the parks department had decided that maybe the Indian did have a legitimate grievance and that maybe the park should additionally showcase the battle from an Indian perspective. In the future the park is planning to have an Indian memorial in addition to the large statue to General Custer.
"...drove by the steaming cars in my air-cooled Tatra" By the time I left the park the temperature was well over 40 Celsius (100 degree F) and the motorcycle riders were heading for whatever shade they could find. As I headed west the hills got steeper and this, combined with the heat, caused a few cars to overheat by the side of the road, steam coming out of their radiators. I was definitely feeling rather superior as I drove by in my 50 year old air-cooled Tatra. OK, I did notice that engine power was reduced a bit due to the very hot weather, but I thought we would not encounter this kind of weather on our Yukon/Alaska trip... and I was very right.
From Montana I continued into the top of Idaho and pulled over in a very small town for some gas and a bit to eat. I found a particularly old and run down diner, and went inside. The placed hadn't changed since the 40’s with old stools and formica tables, and even a screen door that shut with the "thump thump" sound that you hear in old movies. I ordered a coffee and a piece of pie and noticed that all around were posters and slogans for the ultra right , the kind of people that think Bush is a commie. There was even a political brochure for some guy running for President of the USA that I'd never heard of, backed by a political party I'd never heard of either. I decided that this was not the spot to talk about gun control and quietly ate my pie. Outside on the porch were some sittin’ chairs and so I took my coffee out to sit a while. The owner's son, wearing a military style crewcut, came by and told me he had been laid off by the mining company that it seems is the only employer in this small town. He told me that under these mountains are miles and miles of tunnels in every direction, "A couple times a year you can hear a mini earthquake as the old mine shafts fall in." Great place to work!
"...Opera inter-mixed with Jazz was the musical elixir I needed"
From Idaho I headed into eastern Washington State. The environment suprised me because I didn't expect Washington to have such dry desert country. The next day I drove nearly 600 km straight; the weather was cooler, the Tatra seemed more powerful and the combination of Opera inter-mixed with Jazz was the musical elixir I needed to keep driving. About one hundred miles out of Seattle you start to see a huge number of espresso stands along the side of the road. I wondered "How many espressos can each man, woman and child drinks in these parts to keep so many stands in business." You really understand why Seattle is the espresso capital of the USA.
Chapter Four - Vancouver to Hazelton, B.C.
Go to Home or Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Late in the evening I arrived at Gary's house, which overlooks the Pacific Ocean near Vancouver. I was exhausted but happy that I'd made the second leg of the trip without a big problem. The days at Gary's house were filled with all the last minute preparations. Gary actually has two T87's. The first used to be woned by the Czechoslovakian embassy it had been registered in 1948 but is though to have been built in 1947. Gary bought this one in the early 90’s and drives it fairly regularly around British Columbia. His new one was assembled in 1946 and finished in 1947. This recently purchased Tatra was the one he decided to take on the trip. The other one was ravished for spare parts. Out came the starter motor, distributor, carburetor and numerous other parts that we felt might be necessary for the Yukon/Alaska part of the trip. These parts were added to my own cache of parts including distributor, alternator, a single head, belts, spark plugs and more. In addition to these parts I packed an extremely full and thus heavy tool bag. I decided that my regular red metal toolbox didn't match the age of the car and so found in a second hand store a very nice leather suitcase of the same vintage as the car and in went all my tools. It looked nice, but as it turned out, wasn't too practical as it started to come apart from the weight and use.Where does one carry all that is needed? I decided I need a vintage looking roof rack and found a very nice rack made for an old VW Van. After I received the roof rack parts I found out it needed extensive modifications to fit on the Tatra. In the end it looked very nice, but wasn't very waterproof. Gary, on the other hand, built a very strong and waterproof box for the top of his Tatra that worked very well but didn't exactly match the aerodynamic styling of the Tatra. The solution to this mismatch was to add stickers to the box from each place we visited and thus disguise the box as a very large and heavy souvenir.
"...distance from Watson Lake to Koprivnice was exactly 7787 km..."
The last item we need was a sign to install in the famous signpost forest at Watson Lake, in the Yukon. With our maps of the world we proceeded to exactly measure the distance between Watson Lake and Koprivnice, the birthplace of our Tatra automobiles. As we poured over the atlas we discovered that in fact there were no roads from Watson Lake to Koprivnice except over the Bering Straights through Russia. A precise distance would be difficult to calculate, but through a variety of extremely scientific methods we discovered that it was exactly 7787 km... by some route! This newly manufactured sign was attached to the box and we were on our way.
Our first drive was a huge two km to the ferry that would take us to Vancouver Island. For those who don't know the intimate geography of Western Canada, Vancouver is the biggest city in British Columbia but it is not on Vancouver Island as you might expect. After a ferry ride to Nanaimo, we motored to the north tip of the island and arrived in the small village of Port Hardy in time for dinner and our stay at the very nice Oceanview Bed & Breakfast. The ferry leaves very early from Port Hardy every second day in the summer heading through the beautiful and virtually uninhabited coast of British Columbia. The seas were calm and with the Tatras secure in the hold we strolled on deck in beautiful B.C. sunshine and thoroughly enjoyed the seventeen hour trip up the coast. While our trip was very calm this coast can be very rough. My brother James worked this ferry route and remembers one day that the crossing to the inside passage, normally two hour crossing, took five hours and the ferry was rolling nearly 45 degrees. My brother was a bit worried when the water reached the portholes of the upper decks, but the old timers told him, "only when the refrigerators rips off the wall is it really rough." He was wondering whether his time was up as the food began to fall out of all the cupboards and the fridge mounts started making loud noises. No food service was available, but then most people were too sick to eat. I'm glad we were not on that run, for the sea was as flat as Montana and the meals were most enjoyable.
That night very late, we arrived in Prince Rupert... to rain. Prince Rupert is renowned in the amount of rainfall it gets; the airport landing strip had to be specially built to get rid of the water quickly enough for planes to land. This was the town I was born and lived in until I was seven. Back then I thought it was normal that it rained almost everyday, all day. It was fun in the rain, lots of streams, and everyone owned a very thick rain jacket, mine was bright yellow. Moss grows everywhere in Prince Rupert. The houses are painted in bright pastel colours that seems to brighten up the place, if I could see them through my rain specked glasses. Needless to say, it rained the whole time we were in Rupert although my friend, a hotel owner and leading member of the Rupert Chamber of Commerce, said it was clear just before we arrived, but I think he says that to everyone.
Other than the rain Rupert is a very interesting place. It is the center to the northern fishing fleet and there are a number of canneries along the waterfront. Since this was the town of my father, grandfather and great-grandfather I decided to go to the graveyard to see their tombstones. I easily found my grandfather's grave, but my great-grandfather’s tombstone was about 8” below the surface pushed down by over 50 years of continuous raindrops.
For others who don't have family history, there are at least two places that warrant a visit, the first being the Museum of North BC, which shows excellent examples of Native Indian art. The second is Cow Bay where everything including the fire hydrant and garbage cans are painted in a cow motif. We walked along the boardwalk and ate at Smile's Cafe (established 1934). I had the excellent Smoked Black Cod I remembered from my youth and then had a great latte or actually a Cowpachinnos at the Cow Bay Cafe.
From Prince Rupert we headed to Port Edward to see the "North Pacific Cannery", a restored cannery that is the last one existing on the Skeena river. It's a combination of large cannery and boardwalks leading to housing and a company store. It operated from 1889 to 1981; my brother Bob worked here a summer mending nets just before it closed down. The cannery is a huge all wooden structure built of local cedar that sits out near the mouth of the Skeena river. The smell of fish and the sound of seagulls fill the air. The manager of the cannery met us in the old company store and, while sitting beside a working wood stove, showed us a photograph of his great grandfather homesteading on the Queen Charlotte Islands. And standing right beside him in the photograph was my great grandfather Arni Thorarinson Long.
Arni was an Icelander who had made his way out to the coast at the turn of the century to build a new Icelandic settlement on the Queen Charlotte Islands. This photo showed a group of about 20 sturdy men with handlebar moustaches cutting a new village out of the raw land on the west coast of Canada. The settlement didn't take and so Arni founded another Icelandic settlement at the mouth of the Skeena River called Osland.
"Osland... a mythical place where facts and stories mixed into legends." Now Osland was for me a mythical place where facts and stories mixed into legends. Arni homesteaded by building a very small log cabin and soon other Icelanders joined him and a community was born. The rich fishing from the Skeena River provided the economic health of this little community. Osland doesn't have any roads just a boardwalk along the waterfront that connected all the houses and the school. As settlers arrived Arni built a new cabin and soon Richard and Mary, his son and daughter-in-law joined him in little Iceland. In those early years everyone spoke Icelandic, a language spoken by a mere 250,000 people today. In 1922 when my father was about to be born, my grandfather and grandmother moved into Prince Rupert. My great grandfather Arni, stayed in Osland until he was in his seventies when he moved to Prince Rupert to live with my grandfather. But each summer he would row for eight hours in a small dingy to move to Osland for the summers. I have a picture of him cutting the grass in the Osland school yard when he was in his nineties.
As kids my brother Bob and I would go to Osland and visit family friends. Bob and I would wander down the boardwalk in search of the school, blacksmith's shop and, most of all, the house my grandfather built so many years ago. Just recently I returned to Osland with my mother and three brothers to see what was left. We found, to our surprise, some houses had been completely renovated and the only full time resident lived in Arni's house.
Now standing on the dock of the cannery you can just see Osland in the fog and the rain. The kids were getting impatient with my reminiscing and so we jumped into the cars and headed off to Hazelton. The road tracks the Skeena river for quite a way and the mist filled mountains surrounded the highway. Gary's Tatra had bias ply tires and so he had to keep his speed below 80 kmph on the wet road, while my Tatra had Michelin X radials which enabled me to cruise easily at 100 kmph. We had brought handheld walkie talkies and so could easily call each other to point out something interesting or mostly just for fun.We arrived late into Hazelton, or rather Hazeltons. There are actually three Hazelton's, New Hazelton, South Hazelton and the village of Hazelton. The next morning we headed off to the 'Ksan Historical Village and Museum. What an fun experience; the local native elders moved a number of longhouses and set up great exhibits in each one of them. An interesting program told about the Native myths and of the four 'Ksan clans, bear, wolf, fireweed and frog. According to one of the elders we talked to the clan system still works today and native culture is alive and well in Hazelton. I queried an elder about this and he told me that Hazelton was a backwater in the province and didn't have the wealth of fishing or mining so the local native community was more or less left to its own until the road came in during the 1930's. This relatively late integration with European culture ensured that the native language and culture survived and 'ksan is spoken widely in Hazelton.
Chapter Five - Hazelton to Dawson City
Go to Home or Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
From Hazelton we headed back west to Gitwanga to take Highway 37 north to Stuart. In Gitwanga we checked out the interesting wooden church that dates back to 1893 and an impressive number of totem poles. It was around this area and Kitwancool that Emily Carr painted a number of her famous totem pole paintings. This highway 37 was a nicely paved road and cruising on a sparsely traveled two lane highway was very nice.
About 50 km before Stuart we could see a huge glacier and a glacier fed lake complete with icebergs. The water of Strohn Lake is an emerald green and with the background of Bear Glacier made a great place to stop. Many years ago I worked in this area and a friend bet me I couldn't hold my hand in this lake for a minute... I lost. So in keeping with this tradition, I bet the kids that they couldn't do it either. We hiked down to the shore of the lake and tried to hit the icebergs with rocks from the shore, then came the contest. Into the freezing cold water went our hands. Erik our son and I gave up first and finally I had to call a tie between Ginny a teenage friend that came with us and our ten year old daughter Geneva before their hands turned completely blue. I guess they are made of stronger stuff than I am.
"...the Toaster Museum ... it's just down the road."
We stayed the night in Stuart, a beautiful village surrounded by glaciers and high mountains. Stuart is a port town and logs float in the inlet before being shipped to the lumber mills. Stuart was the location for a1992 movie called "Leaving Normal" and more recently parts of the movie "Insomnia" with Al Pacino, Robin Williams and Hillary Swank, were shot here. We stayed at the King Edward Motel, a simple motel on the main street, and the front desk clerk informed us that the Toaster Museum was just down road. Yes folks, there is a toaster museum called the Toasterworks Museum in Stuart. It is an interesting place with not only toasters but all sorts of kitchen appliances from the turn of the century on. And as an added bonus it has a latte bar and nice little patio where we sat in the sun.
The next day we headed across the border between Canada and Alaska in order to visit Hyder, just 3 kilometers away. Hyder is a very small hamlet on the tip of the Alaskan panhandle. When I visited Hyder twenty years before I was told that the population of Hyder equals the number of bars, a bit of an exaggeration but not by much. You see the American residents of Hyder would buy their groceries and send their kids to school in Stuart, while the Canadians would take advantage of the much more lenient liquor laws and cheaper beer. On my previous visit to Hyder I visited a number of the bars and took part in a local tradition called "Being Hyderized" which means drinking one ounce of pure grain alcohol followed by a beer chaser... to quell the burn.
This more family oriented visit to Hyder was to find fun and excitement of a different kind. Every year in August, the grizzly and black bears come to the Fish Creek to do just that... fish. Large chum and pink salmon come up the shallow clear water to spawn, the bears come to feast and the tourists come to see the bears. It's about 6 miles on a gravel washboard road to the creek; you can't miss the spot with about 20 cars, trucks and RVs lining the road. There is a nice elevated walkway in one area and a lot of photographers with tripods and very long lenses. When we got there no bears were around so we just hung out and waited. We had our trusty walkie-talkies with us to signal each other if bears came within sight. Each team was posted to a different spot. Unknown to me, if Erik saw a bear he was to radio that he had to go to the bathroom so that the other tourists wouldn't run over and scare the bear away... not likely to happen. Erik got tired of staying with us and decided to go look for Gary whom he decided was "bear lucky" as he had seen the only bear so far that day. Erik found Gary and the bears found them both, Erik now very excited screamed into the walkie-talkie he had to "GO TO THE TOILET" and I watched as everyone in my family ran to find him. Strange, I thought, such excitement over a bathroom break. Once I got there I understood... not 20 feet away was a mother grizzly showing her cub how to fish.
We watch that for quite awhile until the mother, who was concerned she couldn't find her cub, started looking in our direction. Fortunately the cub was found munching on a fresh Salmon in the bushes and the two of them came up on the road and passed much to close for comfort."...bears frequently walk down the road"
There is currently a debate of how safe this viewing area is since the bears are wild and come very close to the tourists. The US government website states
"Visitors to the site should be aware that bears frequently walk on the road, through the parking lot, and along the dike. They are often very close to people. Remember that these are wild bears! Please respect their need for space in which to move between feeding areas and to avoid confrontations with more dominant bears. Move back and give them room to pass by if they approach, and follow the directions of on-site staff who help direct visitors to appropriate viewing areas"For our first day in Alaska this was great excitement. After crossing the border back into B.C., "Have you bought any tobacco or liquor?", we headed 200 km north on our first segment of gravel road to Iskut and stayed at the "Bear Paw Ranch Resort". The gravel road was good and the Tatras performed perfectly, with a V8 engine hanging way out back it was fun to fishtail the back end a bit on the gravel. The Bear Paw Ranch was like a large Bed and Breakfast run by a German couple and having a lot of German tourists.
Later that evening a van pulled up and a man and women jumped out very excited and started talking to us in Czech. They had heard that two Tatras were driving up the Stuart - Cassiar highway and wanted to see the cars and meet the drivers. They naturally though we were Czech and were suprised to learn we were Canadians who just loved Tatras but whose knowledge of Czech is limited to Pivo (beer) and zmrzlina (ice cream). These Czech were tour guides who took Czech tourist around Alaska, Yukon and British Columbia. Funny I thought, Czechs wanting to come all the way out here to look around, but then I figured they must think the same thing as we go to the Czech Republic and stay in the small town of Koprivnice where our Tatras were manufactured.
After a nice breakfast we continued north on the now paved highway 37 toward Watson Lake. Just before the intersection with the Alaska Highway we crossed into the Yukon. We stopped for a photo opportunity and congratulated ourselves as we had now made it to both Alaska and the Yukon. The sun was out and the weather warm as we hit the Alaska Highway and turned east towards Watson Lake, Yukon and the famous signpost forest. Now for those that haven't heard of the Signpost Forest, it's just that, over 20,000 signposts pointing to places all around the world. It was started in 1942 by a homesick U.S. Army G.I. while working on the Alaska Highway. He erected a sign stating the mileage back to his hometown. Others followed ...and followed ...and followed ...and followed. We of course had to follow in their footsteps, so we put up our beautiful metal sign to Koprivnice, the hometown of Tatra cars.
We overnighted in Watson Lake and then headed off down the Alaska Highway to Jakes Corner. In the early 70's, when I was last in this area, the Alaska Highway was all gravel except for a small portion leading into Whitehorse. The gravel was great to drive on as the Highways department maintained the road very well and the gravel allowed the slip necessary to four wheel drift our Land Rovers around the curves. In those days there was little traffic and even less RV's. I was suprised to find the Alaska Highway was now paved all the way, with trees cut way back from the road. It was like... well a highway like you see down south as I was disappointed, I wanted a real adventure and this smooth, straight Alaska Highway wasn't it. We stopped at Jakes Corners for an ice cream, but the place wasn't the same, in the 70's it was a night club with a dance floor suspended over a swimming pool and telephones at each table to phone the bartender. I always wondered who came here as it was quite a distance away from anywhere The dance floor is still there, but the pool was closed and everything was well worn out.
"Atlin... evokes comparison to Shangi la."
We jumped back into the Tatra and headed on the small gravel highway 7 south to Atlin. Now I remembered Atlin very fondly, a stunningly beautiful village in the middle of fantastic scenery on a large lake, I hoped that I would not be disappointed. The drive down to Atlin was wonderful, you have to drive it to understand. The lake beside the road is an emerald green and the mountains in the distant are enchanting. We stopped a few times to take photographs and just look around. In the evening we made it to Atlin and our B&B "Quilts and Comforts". Atlin is still a great little town of 450 permanent residents and sits on the shore of the largest natural lake in B.C. We visited the 119 feet long MV Tarahne a wooden steamship build in 1920's, and spent a few hours looking around the small museum and it's amazing collection of old rusted steam shovels, tractors, sleighs and the like. I like how local writer Diane Smith describes Atlin "If this place needed an alias, then Shangri la would probably do, since Shangri la is defined as an imaginary, hidden utopia or paradise. Well, Atlin is definitely off the beaten track. It is hidden by rough mountains, and Atlin Lake spreads an icy medieval moat before the town. This fortified remoteness could certainly evoke comparisons to Shangri la." I would definitely agree with her.
Next on the "Three Oceans Tour" was a drive back north to Jakes Corners, over to Tagish and then south across the border into Skagway Alaska. By this time Gary had agreed that a Tatra 87 drives best on radial tires and he wanted to change his bias ply for a set like mine. A call to Coker Tires confirmed they had four Michelin X radials that could be sent to Skagway, Alaska so that they would not get entangled in Canadian customs.
"... wet road with sheer drop-offs mean very low speeds!"
The drive to Skagway is on a paved but very windy road that follows the old Yukon Trail. It was cold and very misty as we carefully drove the Tatras down the steep hills with sheer drop-offs. Did I mention Tatras and bias ply tires on wet road with sheer drop-offs means very low speeds! Gary and I both thought that there would be at least one garage in Skagway that could mount tires, but after a number of call, no way, the last guy with a tire mounting machine moved out a year ago and no one has taken his place.
Skagway is basically an interesting restored tourist town. The main street is full of tourist type shops but between them are the US Park Department volunteer guides who do a great job of bringing the old Skagway to life. There are a number of old 30's buses used for tours that were purchased from Yellowstone Park and restored. They look great driving all around the town. We went to the local play that night and the kids had fun making a killing at the casino (unfortunately in fake money) before the play started. A cruise ship was in dock in Skagway and it dominated the area Those cruise ship can be huge and when one docks the passengers swamp the little town. We took a ride on the White Pass and Yukon Railway to the top of the White Pass; it gives you a good idea of the trials that the gold seekers of 1899 faced when hauling their goods up this very steep pass.
Late in the day we boarded a small Alaska State Ferry to cross the inlet from Skagway to Haines. Haines is a real working town off the inlet with a fishing fleet in the harbour. It's a town I would have likes to spend more time in but our schedule called for a 151 mile drive to Haines Junction. This drive was probable the most scenic one could ever hope for. The paved highway takes you up into the alpine tundra and from the road you can see nothing but glacier covered mountains in all directions. This road passes through Alaska, BC and ends up in the Yukon. We arrived very late in Haines Junction due mostly to my wanting to stop and photograph every few miles. The very long days are great for photography because the beautiful evening light stays for a long time and you can easily shoot during early August until ten at night.
The next day was a short drive east on the Alaska Highway to Whitehouse. During this leisurely drive we saw a small sign for dog sled rides and decided to check it out. The place was the Blue Kennels and they have over 100 dogsled dogs and offer sled tour each winter; in the summer they have a lot of dogs to pet, play with and talk about. What a great place for all of us, the owner Sebastian showed us around and introduced us by name to a lot of the Huskies; he even let us play with a group of puppies that were about two weeks old and hold a litter that were only one day old.
This was a big thrill for the whole group but especially our dog loving children Geneva and Erik. Sebastian told us the story of how he always wanted a dog when he was growing up but his parents wouldn't let him have one, so when he grew up he moved from his native Germany to the Yukon and started a huge kennel! Is there a lesson in this for parents? It seems that Sebastian's trip are designed mainly for Germans who come to the Yukon in the winter to go dog sledding but he said he often takes English speakers as well. Now there is an unusual winter vacation we would love to take.After the awesome dog stop, we headed off to Whitehorse to stay at a particularly nice Bed & Breakfast called Hawkins House. We looked around Whitehorse and I particularly enjoyed exploring the old paddlewheeler up on the shore that included a tour by Parks Canada. It gave a real flavour of the time at the turn of the century in the Yukon. Gary had picked up his radial tires in Skagway but decided to wait until Whitehorse to put them on. The next morning we found a shop to mount the new Michelin radials, it was good Gary didn't wait any longer as the Czech bias ply tires were very much on their last legs.
Gassing Up in Moose Creek Lodge
The next day we drove to the Moose Creek Lodge, a great old lodge with cabins out the back. The coffee shop even made the "Up Here, Top 10 Spots for Coffee and Grub". The log cabins are quite primitive with toilets and showers a walk away. Along this trail were signs that cautioned you about bears that would wander through the grounds on a regular basis which meant father hosted walks to the loo. The lodge itself is a great old place that fits perfectly into my idea of the Yukon. A breakfast of bacon and eggs and we were off to Dawson City.
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