After taking the Haul Road as far north as one can drive in Alaska, we were drawn to also take the Dempster. This 456-mile-long gravel road runs north from Dawson City in the Yukon to Inuvick in Canada’s Northwest Territory.
It was so rainy during our trip up the Haul Road that we were hardly able to enjoy our surroundings or even know much about them. We expected barrenness on the Dempster, particularly above the Arctic Circle. To our complete surprise, however, we encountered some of the most beautiful scenery of our entire trip. Every turn seemed to offer a glimpse of God and His creation that, quite simply, amazed us.
We began our trip up the Dempster with scattered sunshine. As the day wore on, however, it began to mist, finally turning into a downpour. We sludged along deep channels of mud, dodging potholes.
We spent our first night at the Engineer Creek campground. After so much rain, the entire area was layered in black mud and puddles. We found the driest site available and popped the camper open. The rig was absolutely filthy. Every time we touched it, we became caked in mud ourselves. Our supper was ready-to-eat cheese, crackers, and other snacks. We piled in the camper to stay as dry and clean as possible.
As we chatted about the day, I spied movement in the alders behind our picnic bench. Both David and I stood to see what it might be and were shocked to discover it was an enormous wolf. The wolf ambled lightly among the aspens directly behind us.
His markings were unlike any I had ever seen, with silver bands layered across his back. Grabbing the camera, I began snapping photos through the screen. At one point, he looked directly at me, not with angst or anger. In fact, as our eyes met, his seemed to soften. It felt almost unbelievable to watch this remarkable animal walk less than 30 feet from the back of the camper. Splendid God.
His markings were unlike any I had ever seen, with silver bands layered across his back. Grabbing the camera, I began snapping photos through the screen. At one point, he looked directly at me, not with angst or anger. In fact, as our eyes met, his seemed to soften. It felt almost unbelievable to watch this remarkable animal walk less than 30 feet from the back of the camper. Splendid God.
The next morning, we awoke to sunshine and left for Eagle Plains, our next stop on the Dempster. Just above the Arctic Circle, we saw a dozen or more ravens darting over what looked like a huge boulder about 200 yards off the road. We slowed and discovered that it was a large grizzly feeding in the tall grass, most likely off a downed caribou.
The ravens tormented him… opportunists looking for an easy meal. The bear would huff and run at them, scattering the birds for a short time. Occasionally he would tip his nose to the wind, catching a scent. At one point, he sat on his haunches. Later, he rose on his back legs. In amazement, we watched his antics for nearly a half hour. Generous God.
The ravens tormented him… opportunists looking for an easy meal. The bear would huff and run at them, scattering the birds for a short time. Occasionally he would tip his nose to the wind, catching a scent. At one point, he sat on his haunches. Later, he rose on his back legs. In amazement, we watched his antics for nearly a half hour. Generous God.
We spent the night in Eagle Plains, opting for a cozy room and hot shower rather than another wet night in the camper. After we had cleaned up, we took a drive to see what tomorrow's road had in store. The sun came out from its hiding and reflected through the autumn leaves, enhancing their colors to an incomparable brilliance. We strolled over a rocky hill to see the splendid horizon. It felt wonderful to share this moment with a warm hand pressed in mine while a cold nose tipped the other. Giving God.
We left for Fort McPherson the following morning. Riding along Olgivie Ridge, we crossed into the Northwest Territory. We stopped to see several herds of caribou across the valley. Further up the road, a pickup passed us. Hunters got out and headed towards two beautiful caribou bucks near a rock outcropping. As I was setting up the tripod at the border crossing, rifle shots rang, and my heart stopped. I closed my eyes, not willing to see one of these creatures downed… not today. David scanned for the caribou with his binoculars. We saw them both trot away. I breathed a sigh of relief. Merciful God.
Around the next ridge, we saw another small herd of caribou, most still in velvet.
We crossed the cable ferry to Fort McPherson, a small community that sprung from a trading post during the gold rush between miners and First Nation inhabitants. Today Fort McPherson offers a few vital services to Dempster travelers. The majority in the community lives off the land. We spoke with an elderly gentleman curious about our Texas tags. He was the kind of man that beckoned with a wealth of stories and experiences. Both David and I wanted to know more. Too soon, we parted. We set up camp at a territorial campground just outside Fort McPherson and, to our joy, discovered that the camp had hot showers.
The following day, another ferry crossing and a two-hour drive brought us to Inuvick, the furtherest north that one can drive in Canada until the ice roads are made to Tuk in January. We found another great territorial campground with showers outside of town and settled in to enjoy Inuvick, its famous Igloo Catholic Church, and the First Nation Gwich-in culture.
We soon discovered that Inuvick, like all of the tranquil communities along the Dempster, lives to a special rhythm. There’s no rush to begin work early. Living off the land takes skills taught by one generation to another. It requires knowing when caribou migrate and geese fly, what they eat, and where they live. Lush forests, marshland, rivers, and streams provide nearly everything folks need here. Abundant God.
We spent two nights visiting and hiking around Inuvick in misty rain with a few bursts of sunlight. After one shower, a double rainbow appeared over our campsite. Loving God.
Along our drive back to Eagle Plains, we watched a grizzly bear ravage berries along the roadside. For nearly an hour, we hop scotched with four other cars to take photos of this magnificent creature. He doused himself in a large puddle, and then strolled along beside us, almost as if on parade. We were mesmerized. Amazing God.
It rained nearly the entire way back to Tombstone Campground. Occasionally, a bit of blue would appear in the sky. Each time it did, the autumn colors would become brilliant once more. By the time we set camp, the sun was out and the horizon became alive with color. Glorious God.
We sit in a motel room this evening, savoring our time on the Dempster. A simple but critical mechanical issue caused us to cut our trip short by two days. It’s okay… we both know that we will return to the Dempster, God willing. We have been smitten by it’s beauty and abundance and can’t wait to experience it again.
The Haul Road is a working road, built specifically to bring goods to the Alaskan oil fields in Prudhoe Bay. For that reason, people are discouraged from traveling it. The Dempster connects people and communities. As a result, Canada encourages folks to travel and enjoy it and the wonder of its animals and natural beauty... here at the top of the world.
The Haul Road is a working road, built specifically to bring goods to the Alaskan oil fields in Prudhoe Bay. For that reason, people are discouraged from traveling it. The Dempster connects people and communities. As a result, Canada encourages folks to travel and enjoy it and the wonder of its animals and natural beauty... here at the top of the world.
We did not see the caribou migration that we expected. Instead, our Surprising God showed us even better things. We saw autumn in all of its splendor amidst beautiful mountain ranges and valleys, we met warm and caring people, we saw caribou and waterfowl gathering, and amazing animals in their natural habitat.
Thank You, God.
Thank You, God.
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