Oh boy, what a morning face! We slept in, until almost 7! It was a good sleep, well, on and off. My air mattress didn’t hit the magic perfect density of air, and neither did Jeff’s. Both of us let some out and added some back during the night.

While it started out really warm, it was so nicely cool by morning. It is so nice to cuddle up with your sleeping bag.

We were nestled beside the Yukon River on what I would have thought was a busier stretch of river, being just 64 km out of Dawson City, but no one passed by that we noticed. Just one fast river jet boat passed us while we were approaching the site the night before.

The feel of the expedition started to change. We knew we were soon going to be finished. We were going to be able to have a real shower today. And soon a cell signal! I wonder if anything happened this week that we need to know about? Was there anything scary left to experience?

We reluctantly packed up and dragged our feet towards the boat, departing around 8am.

Oh, remember how I mentioned how difficult it was to spot a campsite? Here’s the only evidence when you pass by this one, like many others, a trail up the bank:

We had a choice of flying back to town in about 90 minutes, or stretching it out by going slow and riding the current.

Yeah, we opted for slow, going about 16 km/hr.

I spotted this cabin up on the right, and Jeff commented that it was smart to put it above a rock bank, so it couldn’t erode. Must be a heck of a climb up though!

He spotted another cave too, where the quartz had been mined! There were two big timbers holding up the sides of the opening.

There was another campground along the way, where there were 4 more canoes parked and 4 tents were still up. It was 9:30!! Either they paddled late, or they weren’t eager to finish their journey either!

We were soon into the area of the river I’ve been on before, so I spotted familiar rock faces and turns. Every time we’re out here, it is a bit different though. The water level is different, or we pick a different channel, or trees have piled up on a shoal.

By noon I spotted the Moosehide Slide at Dawson, the big ancient landslide on the hill above town. I imagined all the river travellers of yesteryear who would have spotted this same landscape scar, knowing their expedition was also nearing an end.

Only this also marked a cell signal, so we were already merging back into modern day, checking our messages and Jeff even calling in to hear his voicemail.

Otherwise, there isn’t a huge welcoming shore in Dawson City anymore. There are willows and shrubs growing along the shore, blocking some of the view.

With Jeff’s truck and the boat trailer still in Whitehorse, we needed a plan to get home!

It was also the first day of the bi-annual Moosehide Gathering further down the river from Dawson City just a few kilometres. The native village of Moosehide is accessible by river only, so the waterfront was surely going to be busy!

Jeff pulled into shore after the Klondike River confluence, and let me off in the shallow waters to walk home and get my truck. I jumped out in my rubber boots and grabbed my sandals to make the walk home easier. It was HOT and town was busy! I had to wait to cross the streets! Talk about being thrown back into the real world!

Jeff unhooked one of the oars to push himself back off the gravel to head down to the boat launch area, closer to the ferry landing.

I made it to the house and grabbed a metal stake and sledge hammer Jeff had left in the garage and headed to met him further down at the shore.

It was wildly busy, as expected! Where we usually launch the boat, it was covered with a span of docking set up for the boats to dock while ferrying passengers to Moosehide over the weekend.

Somehow, while we were apart for about 20 minutes, Jeff already was signed up to drive one of those river boats to and from Moosehide already tonight at 5pm until 11pm and again the next night!

Jeff hammered the metal stake into the ground so we could tie up the boat. It was going to have to spend a couple nights on shore. Jeff has a flight booked for Saturday to fly down to Whitehorse, get his truck and trailer, and pick up Hank.

We emptied the boat of all of our expedition gear, and everything else shy of the incredibly heavy motor. With so many people around and partying, who knows if it would be safe?

Jeff took half the gear back to the garage to empty, while I stood watch. The RCMP backed in one of their boats beside where we were parked. Every agency wants to make a presence for the Moosehide Gathering, so the territorial Conservation Officers were also there, and Fisheries and Oceans.

Meanwhile, a group of kids sprayed themselves with bear spray. How? Why? They were with their parents, screaming and splashing the silty river water in their eyes for 20 minutes or so until the ambulance came to help out.

We dumped everything into the garage and that marked the end of our expedition.

Jeff got to be back on the river just a few hours later! A volunteer gig that allowed him to check on his boat all evening.

I started working on our pile of laundry, and diving into these blog recaps! This was such an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime trip. I wanted to preserve every detail I know I’ll cherish in the future.

So many moments of fear, anxiety, and apprehension. You know it is so much easier to give into those feelings and stay somewhere safe. But look at the adventure I would have missed! And all the history I got to step into, to experience, to feel. These feelings are worth feeling. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over my bearanoia, or if I even need to. Sure, it would make adventure easier, if I could sleep and not have my ears peeled for any sound of my sudden impending death. I wish I had never heard of a story of people getting their necks snapped by grizzlies bears while they slept in their tent. Although maybe they didn’t feel a thing. We practise bear safety and keep our food and belongings away from our tent, but shrug… I don’t know what else to do.

I think this is a trip that you could duplicate, but so many elements would be wildly different. We really lucked out with great weather, with just a half day of rain, so we would know what a rainy day on the river would be like.

You’d have no way to know what campsites you’ll find yourself at, whether they are already taken, or if you even get yourself in the right channel of the river to find the spot.

If this is an expedition you’d be interested in trying, there are several outfitters in the Yukon that lead guided trips and provide all the gear you’ll need so you don’t need to have your own. You just need your clothes and a flight to the Yukon! Since the river flows so swiftly, you wouldn’t even need to be that fit since you can coast and only paddle for navigation. Having a guide with you would help you always be in the right place to pilot your way onto the shore in time for the next campsite. These trips usually take 10-14 days, although people have canoed it in two days for the Yukon River Quest race! Imagine that?!

There are also trips that go just to Carmacks, so you can paddle that beautiful, historic 30 Mile section, but not have to find your way through all the river channels and braids and islands that are featured on the northern part of this river highway. And Dawson City is a long way from the end of the river. There are similar adventures all the way to Alaska and to the Bering Sea! Maybe some day we’ll continue beyond Dawson City, to Forty Mile maybe, or maybe on to Eagle, Alaska.

Here’s our last view from day six, at almost 1am. It’s a warm night, there is a heat warning, and the smoke is thick. I bet our bed is going to feel nice and comfy tonight. But will we miss the buzzing?