Traveling the Dempster Highway - Part Two

Tombstone Valley

We awoke to more rain.  With temperatures, however, hovering in the mid-30s, we were delighted that it wasn’t snow.  We broke camp and headed toward the ferry crossings, not knowing what to expect.

The Mackinsie River crossing, the widest of the two crossings (by four to five times), was the most rocky that we had ever encountered.  We shared the ride with an 18-wheeler and five other vehicles.  The river was the highest we had ever seen it with rough waves and swift current.  The ferry rocked heavily as we crossed. 

When we arrived at the Peel River cable ferry crossing, we were delighted to find it in operation.  David asked the operator what had happened when the cable broke.  The gentleman told us that it was the Mackinsie ferry that had broken.  A cable supporting the landing ramp had snapped but was easily repaired.  The Peel ferry crossing was high but easy enough.

Peel River Ferry before landing washed out.

From the Peel River ferry, we approached the Northwest Territory border with the mountains becoming ever closer.  We were amazed to see the amount of snow that had accumulated over the past several days.  Instead of taking photos of fall colors, we were treated to a winter wonderland.  

 We spied an enormous grizzly bear near the border, but he was too far away to take good photos.

The pass was sloshy but passable, so we traveled back down to Rock River campground.  Only two other men shared the campground with us.  They were bicyclers from Quebec who were on their way north to Inuvik.  The men had set up in the campground’s shelter. Again the temperature hovered near freezing.  We hoped they had sufficient gear to stay warm.  They said that they did, so we set up our camp quickly, turned the furnace on, and crawled into the camper for an early night.

David woke me with his usual good news/bad news scenario.  This time the good news was that it had stopped raining.  The bad news, however, was that the rain had turned to snow… about four inches worth.  On exiting the camper, however, we quickly discovered that we had a much greater problem.  The heavy snow had so burdened the trees surrounding our site that many had fallen directly in the path of the truck.  We were completely snowed in!

The truck... buried behind all the snow-laden trees

For the next hour or so, we worked to clear the truck.  We shook the smaller trees to help them right themselves.  This Texan quickly learned a valuable lesson during this experience… never stand underneath a tree when you try to shake the snow off of it!  Burr… a bath of snow down my neck that early in the morning was not my idea of fun!  We also had to tie up several trees to pull them out of the way.  Soon, however, we were able to drive the truck out from the site.

Escape from Rock River

We checked with the bicyclers as we left the campground.  One was optimistic, the other looked dismal.  In broken English, he said that he had tried the road and it was too muddy and snowy to travel.  On top of that, they only had two day’s ration of food.  We offered to take them south, back to Eagle Plains.  They refused, saying that they had airplane reservations out of Inuvik in ten days.  We gave them food.  They gave us their names so that we could have the people at Eagle Plains make certain they were successful in making their flights.  It was difficult to leave them.  As we drove away, we saw only the faces of two forlorn-looking bicyclers watching their only means of escape traveling south down the highway.

The road was completely snowy as we left the campground.  It felt like we were the only people on earth.  Finally we saw a maintenance vehicle and flagged them down, telling them about the bicyclers, hoping that they would take them to Fort McPherson or on to Inuvik. 

Dempster's snowy road

As we traveled, we saw a pair of fox dashing ahead of us on the road.  We spied several sandhill cranes looking quite lost in the deep snow. Ptarmagin also greeted us... their feet and underbellies beginning to turn white.

We crossed the Arctic Circle, finding it covered in snow.  We had to stop to take a photo!

A few miles up, we stopped in Eagle Plains and spoke with a lady at the desk about the plight of the two bicyclers.  She gave a wry smile and said that she had warned them not to go and had already sent someone to retrieve them.  What a relief!

We decided to top off the tank with gas.  The mechanic said that he had never seen the Dempster so rough in his entire time at Eagle Plains.  Another gentleman told us that they had closed both ferry crossings, and he had been one of the last ones to cross safely.  They had closed the Mackinsie River because the water was too rough.  At the Peel crossing, the river had crested so high that it washed away the landings on both sides, essentially stopping all traffic north and south of Fort McPherson.  Crews were now rebuilding the landing on higher ground but it would take several days to complete the project.  We felt so fortunate that we had left early or we, too, would have been stranded.

As we passed the German van that had rolled, I asked David to turn into the pullout so that I could get a photo.  To our surprise, there was something black and fuzzy moving in the back of the van.  David and I both burst out laughing when a black bear poked his head out the back window.  Evidently the Germans had only taken their essentials, leaving food and other items behind.  Bears… ever the opportunists!  He was literally ripping the guts out of the van.  We could hear him tearing carpet as he looked for any food item he could find.  What little there might have been to salvage after the wreck had now been destroyed.

The further we drove along Olgivie Ridge, the deeper the mud.  Tire tracks were so deep in some places that we could feel the mud push against the underbelly of the truck as we slogged and slid along.  Thankfully, we met few vehicles along the way… and thank goodness for four wheel drive!  By the time we were off the ridge, the snow had turned back to rain.    

We boondocked again at our little high spot near Engineer Creek and waited for morning.  The clouds were higher, but it was still misty rain mixed with snow.  We headed straight for the Tombstone Visitors Center to check the forecast.  With a promise of clearing on Wednesday, we decided to wait the rain out another day in hopes of fall color photos of the amazing Tombstone Valley.

We camped at Tombstone... yet another cold night.  We had now been in freezing rain and snow for a solid week.  Temperatures had hovered between 28 and 35 degrees.  I know that our Colorado friends will laugh at us, but we were truly miserable.  Our walks had been reduced to making certain Roxanne’s business was done.  Every other moment, we spent in the truck or camper.  Even our winter parkas didn’t seem to ward off the chill. 

The next morning brought more clouds and snow flurries.  We tried to be positive, hoping that the skies would, in fact, clear towards noon as the forecast promised.  Regardless, we planned to leave the Dempster by one that afternoon in search of warmer weather. 

To pass the morning, we took a drive back up to Two Moose Lake for one last hunt for moose.  We have been by this lake nearly a dozen times on our trips up the Dempster.  Not once have we seen a moose.  The worst part about it is that it seems that everyone else has.  One lady this trip even told us that she had seen 21 moose in one evening!  We sat at the lake and had breakfast, searching the horizon for signs of moose.  There were none to be had, although we did see a patch of blue sky overhead.  Hoping that it meant clearing in Tombstone, we decided to leave.  As we drove off, we noticed something moving quickly across the tundra some several hundred yards off the road.  It was a moose cow!  Finally, the spell had been broken.

We parked at the pullout overlooking Tombstone Valley.  The sun broke through the clouds every so often, and I would don my parka and take a few photos.  By two, it began to cloud up again.  Sadly, David and I determined it was time to bid farewell to my beloved Dempster Highway.  It is always an amazing adventure driving this road… and this time certainly did not disappoint!

As we dropped some 2,000 feet in altitude, the temperatures began to rise.  By the time we reached the beginning of the Dempster, it was 52 degrees and sunny.  Clouds still covered Tombstone, but we were shedding layers of clothes, happy to find warmth and sunshine again.  We drove into Dawson City to tank up with gas, then headed on towards Whitehorse.  Our trip south had finally begun.