Betwixt & between the breathtaking scenery of Alaska and British Columbia lies a vast expanse of nothingness called the Yukon territory.
It's here that we've been driving for the last few days ~ along the Cassiar Highway back to civilization. I was on vacation!
Nobody knew it because my geeky computer friend outfitted the laptop to function like a cellphone. So I could either a) check my work email OR! Blog about my beloved garden, when I was no where near it.
The Cassiar Highway is the road less traveled ~ much quieter than the historic Alaska highway because it's too rough and narrow for people in RVs.
My big observation about folks in RVs is that they are generally old and drive very slow. This confounds me.
The clock is ticking for all of us but once I reach retirement years I'm sure I'll feel a sense of urgency to squeeze as many new destinations into my remaining days as possible.
On the Cassiar Highway, we bumped into Boo Boo.
I was frantically trying to get the camera ready to take another photo of him in the woods, when I heard a scratching on the car.
I looked up to find his big mug pressed against the car window. He looked more curious than hungry.
I also met this crazy fellow (who looks like a statue though I assure you he's real.)
He marched right past me without even stopping to say hello.
If you make it to the exact center of the Middle of Nowhere they'll invite you to post a sign!
1) Everyone says you should not make this trip without purchasing a travel book called the Mile Post.
This book documents every single one of the 3,000+ miles you are driving. (I'm not joking.) It's loaded with titillating entries such as... "at mile post 1673 you will find a litter basket!"
But, here's the deal: There are no mile markers in Yukon Territory so you never know where you are. This book is useless.
2) Good idea to pack a lunch - or 2 or 3. The daily specials [of Caribou and Musk Ox] leave a lot to be desired...
3) The Continental Divide Cabins (which turned out to be trailer houses) will serve you an extra small glass of red wine, chilled for some odd reason, and dispensed out of a box for $10 bucks. I was damn glad to pay it.
Why in the world...?
I was ridin' shotgun with a friend bringing her car back from Dutch Harbor, Alaska. She spent last year teaching children on this remote island and successfully avoiding the ever-popular Wednesday special: Reindeer Burgers.