Whitehorse, YT

For the past five days, I’d been having issues with the heating system in the van. The furnace appeared to be doing its job, but nothing was actually getting heated (floor, air, and water). After the Memorial Day weekend, I contacted Rixen’s in Oregon, the manufacturer of the system. I spent some time documenting the problem, gathering the information they requested, and sending it off before leaving for Whitehorse.

The drive north to Whitehorse, the capital of Yukon Territory, took a little over two hours. At one point the trees became almost hypnotic. I was constantly focused on a point in the distance while a wave of green moved through my peripheral vision. I found myself deliberately looking away from the road ahead from time to time and taking breaks every 30 minutes or so. Up here there are plenty of turnouts and rest areas, most with large bear-proof garbage containers. They are usually unpaved, almost always empty, and most don't even have toilets.

As I approached Whitehorse, the van started feeling a little unstable. It seemed to be pulling in a way that didn’t feel normal. When I slowed down, it sometimes seemed to improve, but I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong. It wouldn’t become clear until two days later. Whenever I pulled away from a stop, I would hear a grinding or rubbing sound until I reached about 10 mph.

I arrived in Whitehorse in the afternoon under blue skies and puffy white clouds. Whitehorse isn’t a large city, but it is the territorial capital. I spent some time driving around to get a feel for the place before finding parking downtown. Temperatures were only in the high 40s, but the wind made it feel much colder. The moment I stepped out of the van, I was squinting to keep dust out of my eyes.

I wandered through the main shopping district but didn’t find much that grabbed my attention. There were sporting goods stores, a very impressive fishing shop with top-of-the-line rods and reels, and what seemed like an unusually high number of barber shops. Everything looked clean and well cared for. Even with a light down jacket, I was chilled to the bone, yet the locals seemed to be treating it like a warm spring day.

One of my stops was the memorial to Robert W. Service, often called the "Bard of the Yukon." Service worked in the Yukon during the Klondike Gold Rush era and became famous for poems that captured the hardships, humor, and larger-than-life characters of the North. Beside the memorial was a plaque describing Whitehorse as the "Birthplace of McGee and McGrew." After a little research, I learned it was referring to two of Service’s most famous poems, The Cremation of Sam McGee and The Shooting of Dan McGrew. I tracked both poems down and read them. They felt like something written during a long northern winter when the temperature is fifty below and every story gets a little bigger with each retelling.

I also stopped by the territorial legislature building and walked around the area. By then the wind had picked up even more.

Nearby, I photographed Antoinette’s Restaurant, which advertises a Global Brunch featuring dishes from 11 different countries every Sunday. A block away was a monument commemorating the 2000 Arctic Winter Games torch. Farther along I found artwork referencing the White Pass & Yukon mail route, and across the street was a building displaying a tribute to Klondike Airways (they never flew any planes). As you spend more time here, more is revealed that isn’t obvious at first glance.

Even though the van still didn’t have heat, it felt good to get out of the wind and relax for a while before dinner. I was in one of those moods where I didn’t feel like cooking, but none of the restaurant options really excited me. Eventually I settled on The Woodcutter's Blanket Bar & Brewery. In Whitehorse, everything seems to be five or six minutes away, and I found parking behind the building without any trouble.

The place was busy. Every table was occupied, and there was a single seat available at the bar. Normally I end up chatting with the staff or whoever is sitting nearby, but that wasn’t happening tonight. Instead, I focused on sorting through a few details of my Alaska itinerary.

I ordered three pulled chicken tacos topped with lettuce, pickled onion, cilantro, a cream sauce, and a blend of rich Mexican-inspired spices. They came with a side of guacamole. I paired them with the brewery’s house stout. It was good, though not quite top-tier. Apparently good enough, however, because I ordered a second while digging deeper into my Alaska plans.

When I left around 9:30 p.m., the sun was still shining brightly. I spent some time driving through different neighborhoods, partly to get a better feel for the city and partly to find a place to park for the night. One thing that caught my attention was an area filled with tiny houses. Somehow they made perfect sense here. They were compact but practical, sitting right on the edge of downtown within walking distance of groceries, restaurants, shopping, and, I assumed, many of the local jobs.

Eventually I chose a spot just outside town on a hillside overlooking the valley beyond the river. I was surprised by how much daylight remained even close to 10 p.m. After watching a video for a while, I found myself drifting off to sleep around 11.