It has warmed up to a balmy 1° and the glorious sun is out with some fresh snow on the windshield. We now have 3 dogs with diarrhea. Thank goodness for the magic pills from the vet. At this rate our supply will be depleted soon and we may be up shit creek until we reach Phoenix.
With a breakfast protein cookie and Folger’s coffee in hand (no Starbucks here), we hit the road early. The car is full of sleepy dogs and life is good for the moment. The 92 miles from Tok to the Canadian border is called The Purple Heart Highway. We officially crossed into the Yukon at Beaver Creek. and wonder how we missed it. I remember this as being one of the rudest towns in the Yukon, but we apparently drove by it without noticing. Many things are closed for the winter. The Customs Officer smiled when he saw the 5 dogs leaning out the window. They were hoping for MacDonald’s but it was not to be. Instead we were asked for their rabies certificates. Usually I pay $400 to secure the appropriate paperwork to cross the border, and they never ask for it. I have actually requested Customs to please look at it, and they have just smiled and waved me through. But today he actually looked at it.
The sunrise was spectacular and the 386 mile drive was long with multiple potty stops. The roads in the Yukon used to be notoriously awful, but they are now wide and well maintained. What a reprieve from the narrow passages and potholes that could easily swallow a car up back in the day. There was absolutely no traffic—just miles and miles of open road. The trucks can throw rocks that seriously crack windshields. When we saw a truck approaching we would say the mantra aloud “No Rocks Please,” and it worked. That is, until the time we forgot as a large 18-wheeler blew by at close to 70 MPH. BAM! The one time we weren’t paying attention a large stone left an imprint on the glass at forehead level. Back to “No Rocks Please,” for the next 1,500 miles.
We arrived early evening at the Airport Chalet, our go-to motel in Whitehorse. Many rooms are pet friendly, and the hotel has a restaurant and bar. Perfect, 5 dogs and I are given a room key for the motel section out back. Add a bacon cheeseburger, a salad and coke for dinner and we are set. Little did I know this would be my last decent meal for a few days. The shitstorm lurking just over the horizon would prove exhausting for all concerned.
It was still 1° and the dogs didn’t want to stay out for long, even though Brody went for a run around the motel. He needed to stretch those little legs. The rest of the dogs were happy to stay with me, do their never-ending business and go inside. A good rest was had by all with no emergency walks in the middle of a frigid night with temperatures dropping to -20°. The following morning I took some things to a cold car, started the engine and organized our nest for the long ride ahead. Back to the room to find Anne, once again the pack hero. She had the dog food container pulled off the dresser and opened up for all to see. Four dogs were chowing down. The only one by the door was Brody waiting for me. He couldn’t care less about the food; he’d rather go for a run.
We are officially on the road at 7:50 AM driving toward an incredible sunrise in the Yukon. Our destination is Fort Nelson BC tonight—600 miles, a very long day. The roads are amazing and 70 MPH is the norm. Hopefully the magic pills will keep the diarrhea at bay.
In my dreams . . .
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