THE CALL OF THE NORTH
Striking gold with unique experiences on tour of Yukon, Northwest Territories and Alaska
I was 20 when I read Pierre Berton's Klondike: The Last Great Gold Rush, 1896-1899. Inspired by the stories of the men and women who'd journeyed north seeking their fortunes, I decided to head there too. I staked my claim — a well-paid job with a mining company — and stayed two years. It would be more than 40 years later before I ventured north again, this time on a 12-day trip with Mile Zero Tours to the Yukon, Northwest Territories and Alaska.
In addition to spectacular scenery and unique northern experiences, I learned more about Klondike history. Interestingly, although a few lucky prospectors struck gold, it was more often the entrepreneurs who provided supplies and services who prospered. While those brave souls have long passed, an entrepreneurial spirit lives on in the new generation. It was also their stories that stood out for me.
WILDERNESS LODGE IN WHITEHORSE
I met my travel group at the Whitehorse Airport — 25, mostly Canadians, our guide Bill and Hubert our driver. Our first stop was Muktuk Adventures, a sled dog kennel and wilderness lodge on the shores of the Tahini river. As we entered the long gravel driveway I was surprised to see more than 100 doghouses spaced a few metres apart, each with a painted name — Dasher, Blitzen, Homer, Skunk, etc.
My initial discomfort at seeing dogs chained to each house was quickly dispelled when we met Manuela Larsen. She explained, “Dogs are living in a pack. If a dog shows weakness, crying for example, they could be attacked and killed by a loose dog. All the dogs get daily time untied and are mentally and physically stimulated.”
Larsen, who hails from Germany, arrived in the Yukon in 2007 for what she thought would be a twomonth stint as a volunteer at Muktuk, founded by Frank Turner, a renowned champion of the Yukon Quest, the 1,000-mile dog sled race from Whitehorse to Fairbanks, Alaska. In 2012, Larsen took over responsibility for business operations and, a few years later, began buying into the business. Together with her husband Jeff Larsen, they have been the majority owners since 2021.
In 2008, Muktuk shifted focus from dog racing to dog sled and Northern Lights tours, and stays at the wilderness lodge. During winter, they run 14 teams of dogs and employ more than 20 staff. The dogs are mainly Alaskan huskies, which are a mix of Siberian husky, Labrador and collie and now a recognized breed of its own.
Dinner at Muktuk was served in a wood-beamed barn and included tasty, locally-inspired delicacies: candied salmon; elk sausage; bison with blueberry sauce; and Arctic char. As we dined we learned about dog psychology and teamwork. “The dogs have to like each other to be an effective team, and if you don't train the dogs yourself when they hit the wall in a gruelling race they may sit down and look at you as if to say, who are you?” said Manuela Larsen.
Another highlight near Whitehorse was the Beringia Interpretive Centre, which offers a fascinating glimpse into the Yukon's past. Beringia was the land bridge between the Yukon and Siberia that escaped glaciation during the last major ice age. Towering mountains kept the centre of the region arid and, as a result, there was not enough water to freeze. A vibrant ecosystem developed that was once home to woolly mammoths, American lions, camels and twometre-long giant beavers. It was also an ancient migratory route for some of the first humans in North America, before the surrounding massive glaciers melted and the land bridge submerged 10,000 years ago.
DAWSON CITY
From Whitehorse we drove 533 kilometres northwest to Dawson City. With its wooden sidewalks, unpaved streets, heritage buildings and a sternwheeler docked by the river, I imagine it looks much the same as it did in 1898. Diamond Tooth Gerties, with its gambling tables, cancan dancers, and singers, is alive and well, and still putting on a lively show.
Our guide for a city tour was the affable Pedro, a recent arrival from Brazil. When asked what brought him there, he said, “As a boy I read Jack London's Call of the Wild and had to see the Yukon for myself.”
Our last stop of the Dawson City tour was the Midnight Dome, a lookout with an expansive view of the city and the confluence of the Klondike and Yukon rivers. It's where locals go for a last look at the sun before it disappears for the winter, and in the summer to watch the sun not set.
We also visited Tombstone National Park, an hour away. Still south of the Arctic Circle where tundra typically begins, the high elevation creates a microclimate with the trembling aspen of the boreal forest giving way to a mosaic of pink fireweed and wild cranberries. Being mid-august there was a chill in the air, and in three weeks' time there would likely be snow. On the plus side by then there would be no mosquitoes.
THE MACKENZIE DELTA
Most of our flights were with Air North, an airline owned by Yukoners, that featured friendly service, a complimentary lunch and warm cookies. On the flight between Dawson City and Inuvik, we stopped briefly in Old Crow, Yukon, a small, isolated community of 300. With no road access Old Crow depends on air transportation, not only for getting people in and out, but for groceries, mail and supplies.
Flying over the Mackenzie River Delta I saw the vast drainage basin of the Mackenzie, Canada's longest waterway, covering 20 per cent of Canada. The delta is flat, and the straight lines of some waterways seem almost man-made. Our guide told the story of a tourist from the Netherlands, a country renowned for its dikes, who asked, “Who built it?”
Surprisingly, although the tundra is treeless, the curved beaches are filled with logs accumulated over centuries from rivers far south.
As we neared the Arctic Ocean pingos erupted from the flat tundra. Conical in shape, pingos are earth-covered hills with icy cores that occur only in permafrost and grow up to 15 storeys high as the water inside freezes and thaws.
INUVIK AND THE LITTLE MOSQUE ON THE TUNDRA
Inuvik, N.W.T., with a population of 3,400, is the ancestral home to Inuvialuit, Gwich'in and Métis Peoples. There is also an established Muslim community, mainly from Lebanon, Egypt and Sudan. Drawn by job opportunities, they started businesses and built what is affectionately called the Little Mosque on the Tundra, which also houses one of Inuvik's food banks. Inuvik is a friendly place, almost everyone I passed on the sidewalk said hello.
Our guide Kylik Kisoun Taylor grew up in Ontario and moved to Inuvik at 16 to reconnect with his mother's family and Indigenous roots. “Going home from away,” is how he describes it. Seeing an opportunity for a local, Indigenous-owned tour company he started Tundra North Tours in 2006.
With Kisoun Taylor that day was his uncle Gerry Kisoun, who was born in the delta near his father's trap line. When Kisoun moved with his parents and seven siblings to Inuvik they lived for three years in a tent by the riverbank before settling in a 48 square-metre cabin with an indoor outhouse. “It felt like a mansion,” he said.
Our first stop was the Inuvik Community Greenhouse. Transformed from an old ice arena, the greenhouse is a true community effort that helps locals offset the high cost of imported produce. “The harsher the environment the more a community must work together,” said Kisoun Taylor.
Lunch was a taste of the Arctic with samplings of muktuk (raw beluga whale) and chewy like squid, bannock and beaver tail, a fatty but high-protein delicacy with a mild, slightly fishy taste.
We also visited the “top of the world” satellite station, an international facility established by the Canadian government. Situated above the Arctic Circle, it can access 11 of the 14 daily passes from polar-orbiting low-earth satellites, compared to about two passes further south. According to Kisoun Taylor, the station was recently used to help monitor Ukraine's troop movements and forest fires. It's also an art showcase, with the four 13-m satellite dishes featuring colourful paintings from Indigenous artists.
TOURISM IN TUKTOYAKTUK
John Steen, our guide in Tuktoyaktuk and one of the hamlet's 1,000 residents, has lived there all his life. When asked about the long winters he explained that although they lose the sun for six weeks, it isn't dark because they have the snow and the stars. It took about 10 minutes to drive though tiny “Tuk” and, other than our group, there seemed to be no other tourists.
“Are we the only tourists here today?” I asked.
“No,” said Steen. “There are four people camping by the ocean.”
We dipped our toes in the Arctic Ocean and toured an igluryuaq, a traditional winter house of the Inuvialuit, built from driftwood and sod.
Nearby I noticed a tiny shed that didn't look large enough to store much of anything. “What's that? I asked. “It's the ice house,” said Steen. He explained that inside is a hatch that opens to a shaft with a ladder. Nine metres down, deep into the permafrost, is the community freezer with 19 rooms allocated to various families.
Lunch was at Grandma's Kitchen food truck, one of the two places to eat at in Tuk. Adjacent to it is a nice, cosy cabin looking out onto the ocean that I sat in while enjoying a tasty bison burger in a homemade bun.
Our flight to Tuk on a chartered DHC 6 Twin Otter had the smoothest landing I'd ever experienced, even though the trainee pilot looked about 16 years old. In contrast, the drive back on the gravel Inuvik to Tuktoyaktuk Highway, Canada's only road to the Arctic Ocean, was an uncomfortable, bumpy, washboard of a ride.
THE TOP OF THE WORLD HIGHWAY
From Dawson City we drove the “Top of the World Highway” to Tok, Alaska. Open only from May to September the unpaved but surprisingly smooth road crests the top of a mountain ridge offering spectacular vistas of steep valleys on both sides. At the remote Poker Creek border crossing into Alaska is a sign, “Population 3, Elevation 4,127.” A note taped to the glass of the border officer's booth adds, “Yes, we like it here, and yes, it's nice.”
The journey back to Whitehorse from Tok was via the paved Alaska Highway through Kluane National Park. Surrounded by North America's highest mountain range, we passed moose, bear cubs, Dall sheep, and a cute little dog enjoying the wind on the back of a motorcycle. The finale to the tour was a day trip to Fraser, B.C. where we boarded the White Pass and Yukon Railway's train to Skagway, Alaska. Billed as one of the world's most scenic railways it's a stunning two-and-a-half-hour ride through mountains, tunnels, valleys and offers a view of the famed Chilkoot Pass, the route of many to the Klondike Gold Rush.