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By: George Reiswig - 8/2002

We had planned to drive the Telegraph Trail... but we ended up hiking it.

This waterfall was well worth the hike.

The next couple of days, waiting for the parts to get to Whitehorse, we decided to drive someone else's truck around. We went to Telegraph Creek, on the Stikine River. It is a spectacular drive, and the Telegraph Trail was one of the trails we had wanted to try. It has not been open to anything larger than an ATV for some 70 years, but the Coast Mountain Crawlers thought that we had a good chance of opening it up in our Unimogs. It was salt in the wound that we didn't have Grog with us, but it was delightful not to be wrenching and retching. We spent two days in Telegraph Creek, hiking and enjoying the beautiful scenery. This is somewhere we will want to come back to.

We also learned more about the Stikine River, which I had heard of as a river guide but didn't really know much about. The Grand Canyon of the Stikine is a 60-mile-long Class 6 whitewater river, one that has been run by only a handful of people. It is upstream from Telegraph Creek, and watching a video of some of the first attempts to run it whetted my appetite to get back on whitewater. No cylinder heads to fail in a boat! On the other hand, it's probably easier to die there.

The Stikine River's whitewater beckoned from the depths of its canyon...

...and the moon watched over river-filled dreams.

We'll be back to Telegraph Creek. We got the feeling that it is one of the better-kept secrets in B.C., and we want to come back and try our hand at the trail.

From there it was a trip to Watson Lake in the Yukon, where we experienced camping in the back of a Ford Explorer. Trust me when I tell you this: one cannot fold down the seats in the rear of an Explorer and expect to have a comfortable bed arrangement. Lack of padding and holes where are the headrests -- all this makes for a bad back in the morning. Couple that with freezing temperatures, and you've got the makings of grumpy campers in the morning. Charlie, sleeping in a tent outside, probably had the better arrangement.

On the other hand, a sleepless night for me meant that I could watch the Aurora Borealis. Not a particularly spectacular display on this night, but visible nevertheless. A cold, utterly silent night, with eerie lights dancing overhead... made me think of wolves out there watching my every move.

The boat ride allowed us within lens-shot of this thirsty moose.

We bypassed the tempting planes at Atlin Lake, and settled for a boat ride.

Trying to redeem some of our vacation and knowing that the truck parts would not arrive for another day, we took a recommended side trip back across the B.C. border to Atlin. Atlin Lake boasts the largest natural lake in B.C., along with an island in the middle of the lake that is 6000 feet tall. We also admired the many float planes offering rides, but knowing that we had parts and shipping to pay for, we sullenly decided not to further our credit card debt by taking a flight. We did get a boat ride across the lake in the evening, though. Very pretty, cold, and wet.

Peter, the jet boat guide, told us that there are many trails around Atlin that we could explore -- if we had a Unimog instead of a rented Explorer. So, once again, we have scouted at an area to come back to if we ever recover financially. (Sigh)

Later on, I woke up for the first time to the sound I had been waiting for the whole trip, wolves. Howling off somewhere in the distance, but wolves nonetheless.