FINDING SOLACE IN NATURE IN THE YUKON

“We’ve newly dubbed this Gull Island, because we were dive bombed by a ton of gulls on our last trip here,” says David Mason, guide/owner of Yukon Guided Adventures, as we sweep past a tiny dot of silty land strewn with driftwood. Generally, it would be a gentler float, but today on our river raft trip down the Dezadeash River, a few kilometres above Haines Junction, we’re zipping along at more like 15 km/hour. The Southern Yukon has been rainy, making for high levels and muddy waters. Mason says that normally the river runs about one metre lower.

The high waters don’t stop the views, however, and between periods of paddling, we sit back and enjoy the backdrop. The boreal forest on the shores, the snowy summits of the Auriol Range, the unique clouds clipped into long, sausage shapes as they bump into mountain peaks.

Kate and David Mason, Yukon Guided Adverntures, looking down the Alsek Valley. Photo by Kate Robertson

Shallow sand bars create unique feeding areas for animals and as a bird migration path, sightings of birds like osprey and nighthawks are frequent. It’s also a critical resting and feeding ground for trumpeter swans, and thousands pass through here each year, noisily honking as they migrate back and forth to California. In a world where it’s estimated that several animal species are lost each year, it’s reassuring to learn that the trumpeter, who was nearly extinct in Canada by 1990, now has a population of over 60,000, thanks to conservation efforts.

I don’t doubt if there’s anywhere in the world that will help numbers come back, it’s the Yukon. The entire territory spans 482,443 square kilometres, but has a total human population of only 42,000, over half of which lives in Whitehorse, the territory’s capital. It’s comprised of 80 per cent wilderness.

The next day on a jeep wildlife tour, as we bump and grind along old mining roads into the Alsek Valley, I get an even bigger dose of untouched wilderness. The Alsek is part of the Kluane National Park Reserve, a UNESCO World Heritage site and, together with neighbouring parks, part of  one of the largest internationally protected areas on the planet (it’s four times larger than Banff National Park).

Glaciation is the most dominant geological process that has determined the landforms, and striations are visible along the valley walls. Layers of outwash sediments indicate glaciation events up until about 12,500 years ago, when the entire trench was filled with ice (be sure to stop at the Da Ku Cultural Centre in Haines Junction to learn more about the history and culture of the region).

Trumpeter Swans on the Dezadeash River. Photo by Kate Robertson

As we carefully navigate through flowing creeks and up steep old riverbeds, I’m fascinated by the ever changing alluvial fans, deposits of sand and gravel carried by the water. “On our drive out, there could be a river where there wasn’t one on our way in,” says Mason. The terrain is so flat that the course of the flow changes simply if a twig or rock moves. Fragility, but stability.
We don’t spot any animals that day, but we’ve definitely seen evidence of bear scat along the trail and when we stop on the moist, sandy shores of the Dezadeash River, Mason points out fresh moose and wolf tracks.

With a density of approximately one grizzly bear per 15-20 square kilometres, Kluane is bear country. Yukon grizzlies are smaller, because their diet depends almost entirely on berries and vegetation, but that doesn’t mean you want to run into one. Mason shows me the bear claw scratches on trees – marks left to show other bears their size and to establish dominance. “Although we haven’t spotted a bear, you can bet at least one has spotted us from the high beach ridges above,” he says.

To get a birds-eye view of the park, the next day I strap into a small WWII turbo prop plane with Icefield Discovery. First, we lift off over the cobalt blue Kluane Lake, then follow the Kaskawulsh Glacier, which flows down the cols and valleys like an icy mountain highway, gathering debris as it goes.

Research site on the edge of the Kuskawulsh Glacier. Photo by Kate Robertson

As we soar between the giant mountain peaks, the pilot, Sherpal, shares geographical and historical highlights. Mountain ranges and glaciers make up 82 per cent of Kluane. The St. Elias mountains are also home to the greatest concentrations of surging glaciers in North America. During a surge, a glacier can move 100 times faster than normal.

The goal of our glacier flightseeing is to spot the Big One, Mt. Logan, Canada’s highest mountain, then drop the wheel skis to land on the glacier and exit the aircraft for a walk. But despite Mount Logan’s 5,959 metres of crowning glory, the peak can be elusive. Today we spot it for only seconds before the clouds close back in around it, like a final curtain call on Broadway’s biggest star.

Those same clouds prevent our glacier landing, and despite a second of regret that my once-in-a-lifetime stroll on the largest non-polar icefield in the world has been thwarted, it’s hard to remain disappointed when looking down at one-kilometre-deep glaciers and a mountain range that has five of Canada’s highest peaks.

On our flight back to base, with his trained eagle-eye, Sherpal points out a white spot below on a rocky escarpment. A mountain goat, he explains. At certain times of the year, large herds of white Dall sheep, the iconic Kluane species with their massive, curled horns, can also be spotted. The Yukon has more wild sheep than anywhere else in Canada.

Looking for wildlife tracks on the shores of the Dezadeash River. Photo by Kate Robertson

Unfortunately, the Kaskawulsh Glacier has retreated about a mile in the past century affecting the flow of rivers and drying up lakes. Over a small patch of open water Sherpal says he often drops scientists here who are researching how climate change is affecting the glacier’s movement dynamics. They drill into the glacier and use heated, pressurized water to monitor it from the inside.

In a world that’s plagued with uncertainty about the future due to climate change, it’s clear that we need to move away from our addiction to fossil fuels and do our part to help slow climate change.
But just for a moment, as I fly over this amazing ice highway and soaring land formations, I seek solace in the scientific theory that this region has experienced at least seven ice ages. There were times during the last ice age when it was almost entirely free of ice, while during the Pleistocene epoch an ice sheet called the Cordilleran Ice Sheet advanced from the mountains into the Central Yukon at least six times. And we’re still here, surviving.

IF YOU GO:
For more info, visit Travel Yukon: https://www.travelyukon.com/en
Where to stay: Mount Logan Lodge (lodge, cabin or yurt accommodations): https://mountloganlodge.com/
Glacier flight-seeing: Icefield Discovery Tours https://www.icefielddiscovery.com/
River rafting or jeep wildlife tours: Yukon Guided Adventures https://yukonguidedadventures.com/
To learn more about the history and culture: Da Ku Cultural Centre https://cafn.ca/da-ku-cultural-centre/

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