The Dempster and Its Coat of Many Colors (Part One)

On Sunday, August 28, we camped at Mile Zero on the Dempster Highway at the Klondike River Lodge, awaking to a very brisk 36 degrees inside the tent.  The beautiful and much-welcomed sunshine soon burned off the fog, leaving us with a perfect day for our return to the Dempster Highway.

With there being only three service stations on the Dempster, we opted to leave Oz at the Klondike corner to conserve gasoline.  Except for a stop at Eagle Plains in both directions, we planned to sleep inside the Xterra while on the Dempster.

When we reached the Tombstone Valley overlook, gray clouds hovered above.  We saw immediately, however, that we were just days ahead of peak colors.  Excited that we may actually hit the valley during autumn’s peak, we determined to go on to Inuvik, figuring they would be at least a week earlier in their coat of many colors.

On our way to the Engineer Creek campground, we spied a small herd of white Dall sheep along the eroded sides of the Olgivie Mountains.   This was our first sighting ever of sheep along the Dempster.

Dall sheep on the Dempster

That evening, we camped at Engineer Creek Campground, last year’s campsite where we saw the silver-banded wolf.  There was so much noise in the campground, however, that he did not appear.  It was a long shot, but certainly would have been a welcomed one!

The next morning, we broke camp early hoping to catch more animal sightings.  We stopped at Elephant Rock, a unique rock configuration on the Dempster, to make coffee.  David caught sight of a bull caribou on the road.  I was only able to pop one rather poor photo before he disappeared into the bush. 

Elephant Rock

Later that day, we spied a black grizzly, grazing berries on the Eagle Plain plateau, along its alpine tundra slopes.  Although he was several hundred yards away, we managed to take a few photos.  He looked fat and healthy and in no distress over the upcoming long winter’s nap.

That evening, we stayed at our favorite oasis, the motel at Eagle Plains.  Eagle Plains was built during the construction of the Dempster Highway as the mid-way point for weary travelers.  It is the first gasoline stop available since leaving the Klondike Loop, some 269 miles to the south.  In addition to a small service station and garage, the motel has 32 rooms and a restaurant. 

It was great to take a shower and settle into our room, which overlooked the west.  It was after ten that evening when I looked out our window.  I called to David that we had to go outside… we were about to have a spectacular sunset.  Within moments, the Dempster’s coat of many colors turned red.

Sunset at Eagle Plains

The next morning, we were off to the Arctic Circle.  Unfortunately, it was raining again.  The mud began to accumulate on the running boards and bumper.  Rox had to do her magic tricks to keep from bringing mud inside the truck. 

Keeping out of the mud

Later that morning, the clouds began to clear.  Again, the Dempster showed the reds.  At the Olgivie-Peel viewpoint, we snapped a few more photos.  By the time we reached the Yukon-Northwest Territories border, however, the fog was so thick that we could only see several car lengths in front of us.

We arrived early afternoon in Fort McPherson and stopped by last year’s campground, hoping it was still open for the season.  We immediately recognized the gentleman who was running the campground from last year.  He had been such a hoot that we were both anxious to give him our regards.

He got out of his truck and rubbed the mud off our license plate with his finger to see where we were from.  “The Lone Star State?”  He said. “How’d ya end up here?

David joked, “We’re lost.”

“You’re in the Arctic, you know,” he replied.

David told him that it was over 100 degrees in Texas. 

The man replied, “Well, that’s a good enough reason to be here.”

Then David told him that we came back this year, hoping that the campground wasn’t closed and explained that we were his last campers last year.  In fact, we set up at our site not knowing the campground was already closed. 

He replied dryly, “Well, you’re a little earlier.  We close in five hours.”

He invited us into the small Gwich'in museum and visitor's center in front of the campground.  We signed the guest register and talked about the caribou.  He said that a herd had come through several weeks earlier and none since.  They had even taken a different path than usual.

Although he invited us to stay, there were issues with the bathhouse.  Also, it was early, around two in the afternoon, so we decided to travel on to Inuvik. 

The ferry crossing across the Mackensie River took longer than usual, so we arrived in Inuvik near seven in the evening.  We set up camp in our favorite Jak campground, only to learn that they, also, were closing the next day and we would have to move.   

Mackensie River Ferry

That night, David awakened me to look at the night sky.  We crawled out of the Xterra, huddled together in the night chill.  For the first time, both of us witnessed the Northern Lights.  Although they were extremely pale, it was an awesome sight and one that will draw us back to Inuvik.

We spent two days in Inuvik, visiting familiar places, including our favorite Café Gallery.  On a hike near Lake Beloit, we spied a pair of Peregrine falcons flying overhead.  These amazing birds migrate over 15,000 miles each year, traveling as far south as Mexico.

Beloit Lake

The next evening, we camped at the Gwich'in Territorial Campground,

nearly 25 miles south of Inuvik.  Fred, a First Nation gentleman invited us to visit his site and a typical Gwich'in tent.  He explained that he was showing teachers in the area some of the old ways. 

We have always found the Gwich’in people to be extremely friendly and hospitable.  Fred was no exception.  He talked with us about the class that he was conducting.  He lamented that all of the elders were dying and that his community was losing their culture.  He said that everything seemed to be changing, including the weather.  While it felt warmer this year, the berries were ripening a full month later than usual. 

Later we spoke with one of the teachers who seemed to discount the entire affair, telling us that Fred was conducting a required “cultural sensitivity” class for the entire school staff.  The words rankled me… why not “cultural appreciation?”  It seemed to confirm Fred’s comments that the old ways were, in fact, dying.  It is a loss for both the First Nation peoples and us.

For more information about the Gwich'in culture, please click here:  http://www.gwichin.ca/TheGwichin/Gwichin.html