This is the day we drove the Alaska Highway from mile 1 in Prince George all the way up to Whitehorse, Yukon. This day was by far the best day on the Greyhound because we got to experience the incredible scenery around us. We drove way up into the mountains, passing glacial lakes and forest fires, and through a bunch of minuscule towns like Watson Lake - home to the worlds largest signpost forest.
The forest was started in 1942 by a homesick U.S. Army G.I., Carl K. Lindley of Danville, Il., Company D, 341st Engineers. While working on the Alaska Highway, he erected a sign here pointing the way and stating the mileage to his hometown. Others followed his lead and are still doing so to this day. On July 20, 1990, Olen and Anita Walker of Bryan, Ohio placed the 10,000th sign. Carl K. Lindley and his wife visited the site in 1992, 50 years after his first post was erected.
Aaron and I got to have a quick walk through the sign forest before heading back on the Greyhound to Whitehorse - all of the signs were incredible. We laughed a bit at it but now I think we both comprehend the beauty of it in some way or another as we are travelers too.
But I am getting too far ahead of myself... I must mention a small town called Buckinghorse River on mile 172 of the Alaska highway. Literally just a restaurant.
A restaurant where we ate the most disgusting grilled cheese and french fries ever.
Oh, and let me tell you about Morris (aka future Aaron). We met Morris on the Greyhound - he is a Scarborough native who graduated from various environmental and outdoor education programs, lives in Vancouver and is working in Whitehorse for the summer at the wildlife preserve. He gave us a natural history lesson the entire bus ride - teaching us about Yukon's native trees and wildlife, sharing his knowledge free of charge. It was amazing. He was amazing and friendly and we recently ran into him at the college where he was teaching a wilderness first aid course.
We also met a few other people on the bus too, some of which are coming with us rafting. The ride was just full of amazing people and I'm glad we decided to be stuck with these strangers for that long of a time.
One last honorable mention was Toad River, home to one of the largest hat collections I had ever seen.
We stopped to have some eats (tomato sandwich) and look at the river. The town consisted of a lodge and a cafe, kind of a truck stop in the middle of nowhere kinda deal. Literally, we were on the road to nowhere.
Just one of the many incredible scenes of mountains on the highway. This is when we hit the highest altitude the entire trip.
One of the glacial lakes on the Alaska Highway.
The sun through the smoke of a forest fire.
I fell asleep just after this point and the sunlight barely disappeared the rest of the night. I frequently woke up in hazes, the sky was a dark but not quite a night shade of blue and the moon was full. It was spectacular. The sensation in me was an odd one, I felt at ease with my surroundings as well as a sense of frustration from my restlessness and a little bit of confusion and excitement all at the same time. I finally fell into a solid sleep and a few hours later a soft voice chimed in next to me and in the most gentle of ways it said: "Welcome to Whitehorse" - our friend Morris.
I opened my eyes and still in a haze I smiled. We were finally in Whitehorse.
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