In the summer of 2018 Will Collins and Jackson Hill loaded up an old Jeep Wrangler, strapped a canoe to the roof and drove 35 hours north to Canada’s Yukon Territory. With little knowledge of the river and no expectations, the two pushed off on what would become a 70 day adventure canoeing the length of the famed Yukon River. These are the stories of that journey.
The day was spent paddling the big, braided waters of the Yukon. Once set up for the night, a small calico looking fox, mixed with red and black splotches, came sneaking in on our beached canoe. With the food near the boat, Jackson bolted up and chased the fox away by sprinting at the little guy, who would flee just far enough to be out of harm's way before turning back and calming staring right back at Jackson, almost as if to mock him.
Read MoreA series of bad choices led to a night of wind, rain and sand.
Last night Jackson and I decided that we would try to sleep outside under the stars, with no tent. Thinking that if it did begin to rain we would simply roll up in the tarp like a burrito and cover ourselves from the rain.
Mistake #1 - Not setting up a tent.
Read MoreI woke up underneath a low sloping tarp with a blanket protecting my body from mosquitoes. Bruce was yelling to me.
“Get up Will - there's fish in the box- Willll!”
I offered a still half asleep smart ass response back then got up. The fish Bruce had been stammering about had been hauled up to shore and was being cleaned.
Read MoreAfter enjoying a cup of coffee on our island above Ft. Yukon we packed up the gear and aimed for town. Once there we pulled up to a steep rocky bank next to the public boat ramp - a good spot to tie off and stay a bit out of sight from what we came to know as WineO Park, the area directly across from the lone liquor store.
Read MoreI came to from drip of sweat running down my face. In the heat of the morning sun my tent had turned into an oven, with the rainfly baking me in the heat.
I clamored out of the tent in search of cool, fresh air. Coffee, some music and oatmeal followed.
The plan today was to hit around twenty five miles and reach Fort Yukon before the local post office closed. Several boxes of food were hopefully waiting for us in the village.
After taking a quick cool down dip in the river we packed up the boat got on our way. The rivers labrinth continued today, forcing us to travel in a zigzagging fashion at every bend in order to stay in the main channel and avoid having to drag the boat through the shallow shoals that often build up outside the main current.
Read MoreSomewhere outside of Circle, Alaska
July 4th, 2018
I woke up this morning with a tune in my head. As I jumped out of the tent I belted, “I’m proud to be an American, for a least I know I’m free!” in what seemed to be a combination of a cajun/texan accent. With a bounce in my step I wandered toward Jackson, who had already been up making coffee.
Today is the 4th of July, one of my favorite holidays of the year. The past five years I’d spent it in Steamboat, Colorado, with my parents and a great group of friends. This year I find myself sharing a 16 foot boat with Jackson, traversing the great American wilderness.
Following two cups of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal we packed up the boat and hit the water in windy conditions. As it turned out, that would be a common theme throughout the day.
As we paddled downriver the mountain tops of the Yukon-Charley Rivers National Preserve faded away in the southern horizon.
The river has changed dramatically today. The landscape around us has flattened out and the river has widened considerably,
Read MoreA slow morning followed a late night lying in the bunks at a rural cabin within the Yukon-Charley Rivers National Preserve. Jere, Scott and Jackson and I spent the previous night shooting the shit and telling stories into the early morning hours. After coffee Scott cooked up eggs with cheddar cheese and fried spam for breakfast as Jack and I packed up all of our gear. The plan was to put in a solid days worth of paddling in hopes of reaching somewhere near Circle, Alaska.
As we packed up Scott walked down to the main cabin to ask Jormah, the Ranger stationed at Slavens Roadhouse, if we could use the quad to haul our gear down the quarter mile hill to the river's edge. Without hesitation Jormah pulled up to the cabin towing a small flatbed trailer behind his quad. As we got to talking while throwing our bags into the trailer, Scott and Jormah delved into a fairly deep political discussion regarding the current state of Alaska. Jormah was of the belief that the Native Alaskan population needed
Read MoreAfter spending the previous evening around the campfire listening to old navy stories from Scott and Jere the four of us woke up late. Jackson and I had planned to take it easy today and play it by ear as to whether we would push off for a half day on the water or take the entire day off at Slavens Roadhouse cabin.
Following a few cups of coffee we rolled down to the main cabin to pick the brain of the local ranger about our upcoming stretch of river. We learned a ton talking with him. Downstream of Circe, AK the river's current slows down, and becomes larger and braided in an area known as the Yukon Flats. If we can put on fifty miles a day for the next 4 days it should get us into the village of Fort Yukon on Friday, in time for us to pick up our resupply.
Read MoreSitting by a fire ring at Slavens Roadhouse on the Mighty Yukon.
It’s a beautiful evening on the Yukon. The river cuts a wide valley through the vast landscape of Interior Alaska. I just chopped wood for the fire that we’re enjoying up a small hill from the public use cabin called Slavens Roadhouse in the Yukon Charlie National Preserve.
There is one Ranger stationed here, an Alaskan who grew up in a fish camp just outside the park boundaries. A mild mannered man, he introduced us to his family: a wife and two young children. They spend 8 months of the year here at the Roadhouse. No phones, no computers, no next door neighbors. Just family and the wild land.
Read MoreI woke up to the sun hitting my tent and heating the inside like a sauna. As I rolled out Jack, Scott and Jere were already up. The four of us shared coffee and breakfast before Jackson and I pushed our new friends off the gravel bar that their Yukon Select 25 horsepower tiller was grounded on.
Shortly thereafter a massive dark cloud engulfed the mountain side to the north and a booming bout of thunder echoed throughout the valley. As the thunder still reverberated off the mountain walls Scott and Jere fired their motor and roared downriver like bats out of hell.
Read MoreWe woke up early this morning to grab breakfast at the café in Eagle, Alaska, a small town of about 800 people on the banks of the Yukon. After loading the boat Jack and I ferried across the river and walked up a set of steep metal stairs that took us over the local levee toward the hotel/ café. Fresh homemade biscuits and gravy with a side of bacon was topped off perfectly with a delicious slice of homemade blueberry pie. We must have given off the sense that we needed coffee, as our waitress left us with an entire pot at the table. We drank it.
After breakfast we headed down a short dirt road to the Yukon-Charlie National Preserve ranger station in hopes of learning about the park we were about to enter. We picked the Rangers brain for a bit before setting off on our way.
A few showers put us in rain gear for much of the afternoon.
Read MoreThe Last Frontier
I woke up at 40 Mile Campsite a bit groggy and tired. I felt better after washing my face in the cool water of 40 mile River, taking in in the magnificent view and sipping a hot cup of joe.
While packing up, the young family who we had run into earlier had reappeared, minus Dad. The woman held her infant son while her roughly 6 year old son jumped and played in the water and mud. The young boy was covered in dirt and his hands caked with mud. Mom had absolutely no issue with this, and I certainly wasn’t running over to stop or clean him. That’s how a kids life should be. Full of mud and dirt and learning about the world around them.
The woman told us that her father had built a cabin in the Canadian Bush near coal creek and lived there in the 1970s
Read MoreWe left camp after a few short stints of mist flurried through the sky. A solid breeze out of the north caused us to deal with a headwind most of the day.
The campsite this morning is possibly my favorite yet. A big sand bar tucked just off the base of a large mountain ridge. This particular ridge jets out of the river in massive triangular heaves of purple and red rock. The natural formations of stone remind me of my time in Boulder, Colorado, as they’re strikingly similar to the unmistakable Flat Irons that cradle the town of Boulder.
Read MoreAt the moment I am sitting next to a driftwood bonfire. Jackson and I are camped on a gravel bar about the size of a football field in the midst of the Yukon River. It is truly a wild place to be.
Today the river transitioned from being a large winding river to a massive moving entity, snaking through various islands and channels, reminding me often of the Mississippi. In the mid afternoon the confluence of the White River broadened the size of the Yukon and also flooded it with sediment, giving the river a chocolate milk like hue. The days of crystal clear turquoise water are long gone. From here on out the Mighty Yukon will be sediment rich, reducing water visibility to virtually nothing. Once the paddle enters the river it quickly disappears out of sight, almost as if looking at your hand in the darkness of a pitch black cave.
Read MoreIs it still a slow start if a slow start is typically routine?
Following a late night enjoying food, tunes and an occasional sip of whiskey Jackson and I rose around 9:30 AM. Two cups of coffee, hash browns and a rinse in the cool water of the Yukon put us on the river around 1pm. Twenty-four hours of sunlight is a magical thing. It has a unique way of making time irrelevant.
For the firs time this trip Jackson took stern. The day on the water was fairly slow and tiring. The scenery was amazing but difficult to appreciate due to our own negligence. Neither Jackson nor I touched any food after breakfast other than 6 Oreos munched throughout the day. We were more consumed with paddling and making miles than stopping to eat. As I write this in my tent at night it's clear to see that this plan rarely works out well.
Read MoreAnother great day on the Yukon
It’s hard to believe that we have already spent 1 week living with the river. It feels like just yesterday that we put in.
After waking up on a small gravel bar we fell into our typical routine- wake up around 9am, enjoy hash browns, oatmeal and two cups of coffee, pack up and hit the water around noon. Both jack and I take significant pleasure in enjoying a leisurely morning. Thank God. 70 days spent with a wake up and go personality could be tough.
Read MoreWe woke up around 6:30am at the boat ramp. The few hours of sleep I had gotten were spent sitting up right in a chair, as I decided not to set the tent up late last night. In a bit of a morning fluster, the two of packed up and hit the water right away, both of us itching to get back on the water and out of town.
The morning on the water was spent lazily floating along, falling asleep in the canoe while floating in the current. Very few paddle stokes were made. We spent the next 4 hours dozing in and out of consciousness, staying awake just long enough to be sure our path was clear before falling back asleep.
Around midday we arrived at 5 finger rapids, one of the few white water segments of the Yukon.
Read MoreWe ended the day today in Carmacks, Yukon, the 3rd largest city in all of the Yukon at a whooping 493 people. As we hopped out of the canoe at a fellow pulled his car up, got out and began chatting us up.
“Welcome to First Nation land!”
We asked if he thought anyone would give us trouble if we set up camp in the woods near the boat ramp.
“We welcome visitors here, you shouldn’t have any trouble. And if you do, come find me and I’ll take care of it. We usually tie troublemakers up to a log and toss em down river!”
Read MoreGriz, Wolves and a beautiful river.
The day began with a slow morning on the rocky shores of Lake Laberge. Two cups of coffee and two bowls of hash browns set the pace. Around 11:30AM we hit the water ready to knock out the final stretch of the 30 mile long lake before getting back to moving water and reading the rivers current once again.
On the water we cruised across a glass like Lake Laberge, thankful that the Yukon gods had blessed us with a still day. As the sun beat down, the blue-green water seemed even more vibrant against the backdrop of the massive rock outcroppings lining the lake. The reflection of the clouds and mountains showed like a mirror on the still water.
Read MoreI woke up to sunny skies and Jackson boiling water for coffee and hash browns. After a late night paddling under the midnight sun, I felt content with the sleep I had gotten.
By the time breakfast and packing wrapped up we hit the water around 10:30AM. The plan for the day was to knock out a big chunk of the infamous Lake Laberge, a 30 mile long lake north of White Horse. As we hit the water, a float plane buzzed just overhead, riding the channel cut by the turquoise river.
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