Carmacks > Braeburn Lodge > Whitehorse > Teslin
Route: Klondike Highway > Alaska Highway
Road Quality: 9/10
Drive Quality: 10/10
We’ve Run Out of Adjectives to Describe Rain
We awoke in the morning, the tin roof of our cabin pinging from droplets that forced themselves on us with an insistence ANYTHING but charming. There is a weariness about waking up in rain, after endless days of waking up in rain. We packed our bags quietly, resigned to discomfort.
We only made it a short way, 70km back to Braeburn Lodge, before stopping to dump out our boots. By then, we had learned to stuff extra socks in our pockets. We wrapped our toes in them, then in plastic bags, then stuffed them back into our soggy, tightly laced boots. We sat again with the owner, Steve, and ordered hot things. We stared at each other under the fluorescent lights, the sky darkening outside.
The next 100km to Whitehorse was a blur, perhaps because the rain became so relentless, we had to slow considerably to make it through. The roadway became its own mini ecosystem. Small rivers ran down it, leaves swept across, stems from plants bent and stuck.
By the time we arrived in Whitehorse, we were broken in. We stopped for a quick fill-up, then drove on, our coats weighed heavy with rain, our toes forgotten, our hands bright red with chill and damp. Thankfully, Whitehorse to Teslin is a beautiful drive. The landscape is ragged but accessible, the road curves along ridges, the view of hills and river and forest change around every bend. Black clouds faded to dark grey, then finally melted into a light-grey haze when we pulled over in Teslin. Again, we would like to say that we persisted, but with more rain in the forecast, we decided to cut our losses and resign to another shorter day.
Currently, there is only a gas station with small motel and a campground in Teslin, along with a small convenience store. We set up camp under a foreboding sky, then spent the evening sitting at a picnic table, drinking a bottle of wine and eating charcuterie from wax paper. We met our neighbor, another fellow motorcyclist doing a similar route to ours. We chatted and played dice for a couple of hours, but the evening came quickly, and we cocooned ourselves in sleeping bags and crossed our fingers for brighter skies the next day.