Call of the Wild
Written by Andrew McLaughlinMy adventure started on 7th September 2006. After 20 hours and 3 flights I arrived at Whitehorse (pop 23,000), capital of the Yukon Canada, having never flown before. Felix the guide for my trip met me at the airport. We chatted on the way to the hotel about what gear I had brought, stopping on the way to buy some fishing gear. At the hotel I met my paddling partner Reiner who was German and spoke a little bit of English. Felix was also German, did speak English but was a bit rusty as he mainly had Germans on his previous trips. This was going to be interesting trip, as I didn’t speak German. We were up at 6.30 next morning to pack our gear, have breakfast and ring home before meeting Felix at 9.00. After a short delay while I bought some wellies as advised due to the low water temperature we set out on our journey with another party sharing the mini bus. First travelling along the Alaska Highway then after a quick coffee stop we turned onto a gravel road. We arrived at Quiet Lake at about 2.00pm after stopping to drop the other party off. All our gear and two open canoes were off loaded, then the mini bus left. ...
A Dream comes true! Canoe Adventure in Canada's North
Written by Stephan Hoffmann“Here we go.” I hear Ernie the pilot and now I can see it: the Wind River. It looks like a snake from up here, smaller than I imagined when I was at home. We’ve been in the air for about an hour, flying over spectacular mountain ranges and breathtaking valleys. We started in Mayo, a village in the Yukon Territory, the land of the midnight sun, legends and traditions. This northwestern corner of Canada borrows its name from the 3,600 km long Yukon River.
I once read Jack London’s books. Who doesn’t know them? The thrilling tales of characters like 'Alaska Kid' and others. Deep down, I always had the wish to get to know the land of my dreams. Now I’m already deep into my first Yukon adventure. My palms are wet. Sitting in the floatplane, next to the small window, I’m pressing my nose against the glass. Our canoes are tied to the floats of the plane, all other luggage is inside. Finally! We smoothly land on a small lake that’s connected to the Wind River through a creek. We unload our equipment and the plane disappears into the horizon. The noise of the engine fades away and silence soon surrounds us. In eleven days we will be picked up at the confluence of the Wind and Peel rivers. A strange feeling for us city folks but ...
