ABSTRACT
Air Canada Flight 289 touched down on Whitehorse Airport’s lone runway on time at 1 p.m. The fuselage door opened to a crisp north-easterly that stung the Yukon’s autumn-infused,ii Alpine-scented air remorselessly. While Jon collected our luggage I secured the keys to a rental Chevy and a couple of road maps. We swiftly stocked up on groceries in town and then headed for the Alaska/Klondike Highwayiii with our compass set for the Wheaton River Wilderness Resortiv—a 45-minute drive from the pretty and surprisingly cosmopolitan territorial capital. The first outside-of-BC trip had begun, employing a travel format that would remain essentially unchanged for the next two years.
