Click here to read my updated post on our Near-Death Experience on Lake Laberge. You'll encounter new pictures & far more details about our narrow escape from the icy depths of Lake Laberge!
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| Another Shipwreck on Lake Laberge? |
Forging a destined dream of paddling 460 miles of the Yukon River, my husband Jake and I constructed the Sundowner with old pontoons and mostly used lumber as a testimony of our devotion to pursue this rugged adventure. In 2011, fate finally sent us venturing north over 3,000 miles into Canada’s Yukon Territory where the Sundowner enabled us to navigate the river, fish, pan for gold, photograph magnificent landscapes & wildlife, write, and play in The Land of the Midnight Sun.
Showing posts with label Lake Laberge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lake Laberge. Show all posts
Monday, September 24, 2012
Sunday, August 21, 2011
10 Things I Hate to Admit about My Yukon River Trip
Here's a collection of thoughts, actions, or whatnots that I would have been embarrassed to admit before I went on our Yukon River Trip. But somehow, these tidbits seem like an important part of my adventure that I should share.
1. As I was standing in an empty partaking lot in Whitehorse directly after our time on the Yukon River, I felt nature calling. Before I realized what I was doing, I had already scoped out a bear-free bush to relieve myself…. Sorry I can't make this story any better; I only said I scoped it out; I didn't act upon my newly acquired natural instinct. Instead, I excused myself and walked into the nearby McDonalds.
2. The Canadian & US Border Officers we encountered were all younger than us.
3. While on our Yukon River Trip, I will admit that my survival instincts did surprise me. More than once I caught myself selfishly eying the remaining filtered water or coveting a larger scoop out of the dinner pan.
4. We listened to Meat Loaf's Bat out of Hell album and sang at the top of our lungs…a few times. (Hey, you try spending 14 days of your summer hauling an overloaded trailer while covering almost 7,000 miles; you'd be surprised what you resort to in order to stay awake and to divert insanity's scheme against you.
5. Almost 2 weeks after returning home from our summer adventure, I was still sleeping in my clothes. The Yukon nights got down to the low 40s (℉), and I was already wearing my warmest clothes when it was time to burrow into my sleeping bag. Furthermore, changing required more exertion than just crawling into my cocoon of promised warmth; changing for bed just didn't seem important or necessary at the time. I also slept along side bug carcasses--big ones, little ones…it just was not a priority to dispose of them before laying my weary head to rest for the night. The Yukon had a way of altering my priorities without ever really bringing them to my attention.
6. I cried like a baby on the river…more than once.
7. I went 20 days without a full head-to-toe shower or bath. Because the water temperature on the Yukon River was around 40 ℉, fully submersing myself in the chilly waters was not practical. I got my nerve up twice to fully dunk my head for a good shampoo. The water was cold and stabbed dull butter knives into any piece of flesh daring enough to linger longer than a brief moment or two.
8. I ate fallen food off the dirty cabin floor and deck of our boat--every precious calorie mattered!
9. After our first week back home, I realized that I had only taken two showers: one the morning we arrived home and one a few days later. During that first week back on my way to the grocery store, one glance in the rearview mirror revealed that I had not put an ounce of makeup on nor had I made any attempt to tame the messy bun that was atop my head. I had also neglected to put on deodorant (so unlike me!).
10. During our Lake Laberge horror, I begged and screamed prayers up to God and thought He wasn't listening.
1. As I was standing in an empty partaking lot in Whitehorse directly after our time on the Yukon River, I felt nature calling. Before I realized what I was doing, I had already scoped out a bear-free bush to relieve myself…. Sorry I can't make this story any better; I only said I scoped it out; I didn't act upon my newly acquired natural instinct. Instead, I excused myself and walked into the nearby McDonalds.
2. The Canadian & US Border Officers we encountered were all younger than us.
3. While on our Yukon River Trip, I will admit that my survival instincts did surprise me. More than once I caught myself selfishly eying the remaining filtered water or coveting a larger scoop out of the dinner pan.
4. We listened to Meat Loaf's Bat out of Hell album and sang at the top of our lungs…a few times. (Hey, you try spending 14 days of your summer hauling an overloaded trailer while covering almost 7,000 miles; you'd be surprised what you resort to in order to stay awake and to divert insanity's scheme against you.
5. Almost 2 weeks after returning home from our summer adventure, I was still sleeping in my clothes. The Yukon nights got down to the low 40s (℉), and I was already wearing my warmest clothes when it was time to burrow into my sleeping bag. Furthermore, changing required more exertion than just crawling into my cocoon of promised warmth; changing for bed just didn't seem important or necessary at the time. I also slept along side bug carcasses--big ones, little ones…it just was not a priority to dispose of them before laying my weary head to rest for the night. The Yukon had a way of altering my priorities without ever really bringing them to my attention.
6. I cried like a baby on the river…more than once.
7. I went 20 days without a full head-to-toe shower or bath. Because the water temperature on the Yukon River was around 40 ℉, fully submersing myself in the chilly waters was not practical. I got my nerve up twice to fully dunk my head for a good shampoo. The water was cold and stabbed dull butter knives into any piece of flesh daring enough to linger longer than a brief moment or two.
8. I ate fallen food off the dirty cabin floor and deck of our boat--every precious calorie mattered!
9. After our first week back home, I realized that I had only taken two showers: one the morning we arrived home and one a few days later. During that first week back on my way to the grocery store, one glance in the rearview mirror revealed that I had not put an ounce of makeup on nor had I made any attempt to tame the messy bun that was atop my head. I had also neglected to put on deodorant (so unlike me!).
10. During our Lake Laberge horror, I begged and screamed prayers up to God and thought He wasn't listening.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Jake & Susan Are Back on Dry Land!: Day 19 of the Yukon River Trip
Jake & I are happy to announce that we have finished our Yukon River Trip adventure! We pulled into Carmacks on the evening of our 12th anniversary, covering 202 miles of the mighty Yukon River. Early on in our quest, we decided to forego our original destination of Dawson City for a number of reasons. Though we definitely could have made the 460 miles to Dawson City, it became quite clear that we were losing sight of some of our original trip goals.
Our venture quickly took on the feel of all work and no play. Yes, we knew we had our work cut out for us, but even before we left town, we began to feel as though the planning of this trip was a second job. Then when it was finally time to depart, the six-day drive wore us down even more (we only stopped at three motels--the rest of the nights we drove on through to cover the 3,300 miles to Whitehorse. The weight and aerodynamics of the trailer and boat slowed us down much more than we anticipated.
Once arriving in Whitehorse (finally!), we took two nights at the Yukon Inn to recover...or so we thought we would. We quickly found ourselves running here and there--getting fishing licenses, last-minute gear, checking the river and launching sites, reorganizing our gear from the drive, making arrangements for storing our truck and trailer (thank you Sports North!), etc. When we finally hit the river on the afternoon of July 3rd, we were still exhausted from the months of planning, the 3,300 miles of driving, and the preparations once reaching Whitehorse.
As we got a handle on how the Sundowner maneuvered on the Yukon River, a river so different from any back home, we soon discovered that the wind was going to be our biggest challenge. Lake Laberge, the 30-mile lake we had to cross early in our route, surprised us by how calm she appeared to be as we entered her waters. At first, the glass-like surface and windless skies deceived us, as we later found ourselves battling the horrific winds and waves that Laberge is known to produce without notice. The structure of the Sundowner took quite a beating from Lake Laberge (and so did we).
After sneaking out of Laberge late in the evening and rowing through the night because her winds seemed to be the calmest then (thankgoodness for the almost 20-hours of sunlight), we found ourselves taking on the wind during the next stretch of Yukon River, known as the Thirty Mile River. It was apparent that we would most likely continue to battle the wind--not the river--the whole way. Jake & I found that we had not had any time to explore, play, recover, or even feed ourselves properly, and I wasn't journaling--simply recording the miles of the day and basic events. We were just too worn down. We felt we were putting in overtime covering miles, ignoring what the real purpose of our trip was.
So, we decided to take a couple of days off to rest up, reorganize the cabin, and play. Panning for gold and fishing were the highlights of this break; they were the first "just for fun" moments of the trip. This made us revisit our goals and begin thinking about changing our final destination. You see, Dawson City was not our goal; working together to live on our boat as we explored the awesome Yukon River and followed in the paddle strokes of so many before us. We weren't exploring; we were simply covering miles and wearing ourselves out as we battled the wind with our boat, watching the canoes and kayaks zip by us.
We did the math daily; we could still make it to Dawson City, but with the frequent and unpredictable winds the Yukon blows, we knew we needed to readjust the final destination in order to meet our goals. We worked hard, played a bit, and learned much during our fifteen days as we covered 202 miles of the Yukon River from Whitehorse to Carmacks.
Our venture quickly took on the feel of all work and no play. Yes, we knew we had our work cut out for us, but even before we left town, we began to feel as though the planning of this trip was a second job. Then when it was finally time to depart, the six-day drive wore us down even more (we only stopped at three motels--the rest of the nights we drove on through to cover the 3,300 miles to Whitehorse. The weight and aerodynamics of the trailer and boat slowed us down much more than we anticipated.
Once arriving in Whitehorse (finally!), we took two nights at the Yukon Inn to recover...or so we thought we would. We quickly found ourselves running here and there--getting fishing licenses, last-minute gear, checking the river and launching sites, reorganizing our gear from the drive, making arrangements for storing our truck and trailer (thank you Sports North!), etc. When we finally hit the river on the afternoon of July 3rd, we were still exhausted from the months of planning, the 3,300 miles of driving, and the preparations once reaching Whitehorse.
As we got a handle on how the Sundowner maneuvered on the Yukon River, a river so different from any back home, we soon discovered that the wind was going to be our biggest challenge. Lake Laberge, the 30-mile lake we had to cross early in our route, surprised us by how calm she appeared to be as we entered her waters. At first, the glass-like surface and windless skies deceived us, as we later found ourselves battling the horrific winds and waves that Laberge is known to produce without notice. The structure of the Sundowner took quite a beating from Lake Laberge (and so did we).
After sneaking out of Laberge late in the evening and rowing through the night because her winds seemed to be the calmest then (thankgoodness for the almost 20-hours of sunlight), we found ourselves taking on the wind during the next stretch of Yukon River, known as the Thirty Mile River. It was apparent that we would most likely continue to battle the wind--not the river--the whole way. Jake & I found that we had not had any time to explore, play, recover, or even feed ourselves properly, and I wasn't journaling--simply recording the miles of the day and basic events. We were just too worn down. We felt we were putting in overtime covering miles, ignoring what the real purpose of our trip was.
So, we decided to take a couple of days off to rest up, reorganize the cabin, and play. Panning for gold and fishing were the highlights of this break; they were the first "just for fun" moments of the trip. This made us revisit our goals and begin thinking about changing our final destination. You see, Dawson City was not our goal; working together to live on our boat as we explored the awesome Yukon River and followed in the paddle strokes of so many before us. We weren't exploring; we were simply covering miles and wearing ourselves out as we battled the wind with our boat, watching the canoes and kayaks zip by us.
We did the math daily; we could still make it to Dawson City, but with the frequent and unpredictable winds the Yukon blows, we knew we needed to readjust the final destination in order to meet our goals. We worked hard, played a bit, and learned much during our fifteen days as we covered 202 miles of the Yukon River from Whitehorse to Carmacks.
(As we travel home we will be posting journal portions, pictures,
and memories of our trip. So, check back soon!)
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Near-Death Experience on Lake Laberge: Day 4 of the Yukon River Trip--part 2
It's now 1:45 a.m., and I'm writing in my journal with no headlamp! This almost constant light is strange and plays with my internal clock. We have not had trouble sleeping in the light as I had expected; we're just too worn out--sometimes sleeping 10-12 hours a night without meaning to do so.
So, back to the day's horrific events…
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| A Somewhat Calmer Lake Laberge |
The warnings of unpredictable Lake Laberge were carelessly forgotten by the time a sudden drop in temperature snatched me from my fog of sluggish daydreams that can only come after sleep deprivation, too much physical exertion, and not enough food. Chasing the sudden coldness was the haunting sound of the Yukon wind bellowing through the trees on a high bluff to our right. Before I could grab a layer to throw on, Lake Laberge began to flaunt her intention of taking our lackadaisical approach to safety as a challenge.
It was as though a giant index finger flipped a switch and turned on the most awesome wave pool at the largest water park in the world. Had that been the case, I would’ve giggled & squealed during the next 25-30 minutes while helplessly flailing to & fro and desperately trying to cling to the flat wooden deck of our boat. In reality, Lake Laberge had just waged a relentless war of trying to cast us off the Sundowner, which now seemed more like a Bucking Broncho ride than the pontoon boat we had built for our Yukon River Trip.
Wickedly undulating, Lake Laberge then conjured her confederate, the ruthless Yukon wind, to aid in her assault. Whipping the Sundowner sideways, the escalating tempest forced us to teeter-totter up & down the 6-foot swells that were closer together than our boat was wide. Jake, our lone warrior in this indefensible battle, mustered his strength (from where, I don’t know) to keep us from being sucked out into the middle of the 3-mile wide lake. Feeling helpless without knowing how to contribute, I kept thinking he won't be able to keep this up for long.
The shock of our
situation released its freeze on my brain, and I lunged toward the trolling
motor that had been helping us keep our steady 1 mph pace before calamity
struck. Twisting the handle clockwise to
increase the motor speed and slamming it to the left, I hoped to somehow aid in
Jake’s campaign in getting us to the eastern shore. In what seemed like only seconds, the motor slowed
to a low hum, and I knew that the battery was drained. Instinct prevailed and I began unscrewing
both wing nuts in order to switch the connector cables to a second marine
battery. Nimbly putting the wing nuts
back on the first drained battery, I then twisted the next set on our second (and
fully charged) deep cycle marine battery.
Ardent prayers of
anguish escaped my mouth as I again tried to aid in Jake’s pursuit to
shore. Jake barked orders of correction
in my angle of the trolling motor while he desperately continued paddling. My prayers to God, feverishly increasing in volume
& intensity, continued and then halted as I realized that the second
battery was nearly exhausted of all power.
It can’t be I thought, knowing
that this battery had held a full charge before engaging it. But, it could be, for I returned the handle
to a twelve o’clock position and felt no power when I yanked it once again
clockwise.
My prayers then
called on God’s angels as I released the connector cables from the second
drained battery: “God, if you won’t help
us, please at least send some of your angels!”
I then began broadcasting my pleas to His angels, begging that at least
one feel pity for us and come to aid in our fight for survival. Connecting our third and final (and fully
charged) marine battery, I once again thrust the handle of the trolling motor
clockwise and felt the buzz of the motor fighting the vicious billows of Lake
Laberge.
Amidst his combat with Laberge’s rampage, Jake interrupted my heavenly appeals by yelling, "The oars are bending! The oars are bending!" These were the 11 ft. Cataract oar shafts that are "made with the same...technology used by the aerospace industry" (company description). We weren't getting swept out to the middle, but we weren't getting any closer to shore.
“High side! Low side!
High side! Low side!” Jake’s words reached my ears, and I struggled
to decode their meaning. I abandoned the
trolling motor, which no longer provided power due to a third (and final) depleted
battery. How Lake Laberge devoured
two-and-a-half batteries in less than 15 minutes will forever remain an enigma. “High side!
High side!” Jake hollered, and my
body jolted into submission, translating his command. I lay flat on the Sundowner’s deck as she surged my head
upward to the empty Heavens while my feet pointed down to the icy waters. The grunt of the next “High side!” triggered
me to contort my body into a folded V position as we rode the wave back down. Again and again, I flattened & folded on
Jake’s “High side!” orders, while all the while calling God’s angels to come
rescue us.
"Rocks! Jake, we're headed straight for those rocks!" I pointed & screamed over the wind, the deck-drenching waves, and the creaking & moaning of our cabin with all of its contents banging in rhythm to Laberge's turbulence. Most unnerving was the ever-constant CLANK…CLANK…CLANK of our shovel beating and sounding out a promised death toll. As water swamped our deck & cragged rocks threatened our fate, Jake tried to change course and paddle the Sundowner farther out onto the lake with its murky depths reaching almost 500 feet and its water temperature measuring around 40℉. Surviving a swim from this distance in the frigid Yukon waters was not possible. As death blew down upon us and Lake Laberge grabbed at the oars, our spirits raged & fought for the incomprehensible prospect of surviving this horrific battle.
“Life vests! Jake, get the life vests!” I yelled, and a
life jacket flew into my hands as though drawn by a strong magnet. Slipping it on, my thoughts turned to my dear,
sweet Gretel, our dog of eleven years. Not
understanding why we didn’t return for her, would she ever stop watching &
waiting for us? How heart-wrenchingly unfair! And,
my parents…oh, my parents! “God,
please don’t let us go this way for their sake!” I lamented, thinking they didn’t
deserve to lose us like this—never knowing what happened…always wondering if we
were somehow still alive and deserted in the unforgiving Yukon wilderness.
Looking north over my
right shoulder, my eyes locked onto the ominous sight of the jagged rocks, which
promised imminent destruction of the Sundowner
and all of her cargo. Visions of flesh
tearing & bones splintering as we slammed into the rocks fueled my
imagination. Terrorized by the impending
pain that lay in our path, I once again proclaimed the presence of rocks
jutting out of the water before us. “I
know! Susan, I know!” cried Jake. “I can’t stop us!” Watching Jake wrestle the oars, I knew he was
right; we were on a course bound for collision.
Looking back at the
rocks, I tried devising a plan to implement upon impact. All-consuming anxiety prevented me. I was sure of one thing: the Sundowner
with all of our gear would sink hundreds of feet to forever rest on the bottom
of Lake Laberge. It certainly wouldn’t
be the first (or the last) shipwreck in these waters. I knew the bitter cold water would not grant our
muscles the ability to swim the long way to shore, so I allowed myself to once
again try out the idea that we actually might not survive… No!
Ripping my eyes from the rocks, I frantically searched for a witness to our vicious demise. Who would tell our story? Who would share how we battled Laberge? …how we clung to each other in the end? I craned my neck to survey each shore—no tents, no cabins, no roads—nothing. My eyes scanned all around the choppy lake for another vessel—nothing. I searched the skies for a plane, a helicopter—and again, nothing. We were alone; no one was watching…
Ripping my eyes from the rocks, I frantically searched for a witness to our vicious demise. Who would tell our story? Who would share how we battled Laberge? …how we clung to each other in the end? I craned my neck to survey each shore—no tents, no cabins, no roads—nothing. My eyes scanned all around the choppy lake for another vessel—nothing. I searched the skies for a plane, a helicopter—and again, nothing. We were alone; no one was watching…
God’s mercy came in the form of wind. It flipped us 180°, and we sailed farther out toward the middle of the lake. By God’s grace & Jake's unrelenting struggle against the wind & waves, the Sundowner narrowly missed the rocks.
With her stern now
pointing toward the eastern shore, Jake rowed instead of paddled, granting his
crippled muscles a minuscule reprieve. I
stood for the first time since before Laberge’s traumatizing assault to assess
the distance to shore. It was still so
far…. Jake grunted & moaned with
each straining row, further tearing and ripping his already overburdened
muscles. I raved aloud constant praise
to Jake and cheered on his progress while updating him on distance &
becoming the eyes for his blinded path.
Still fighting the somewhat
subdued yet choppy waves, the Sundowner
made her way closer to shore. When I could see the lake bottom &
hoped I could touch, I jumped off the deck with the blue NRS straps that were
tied to the bow of our boat. I crashed into the frigid water up past my
waist and ran in slow motion against the surging water, fighting my way to land.
Upon seeing me take that plunge, Jake collapsed into a pile of exhaustion,
trusting that I would now be able to tug us safely to shore. Adrenaline
masked the stabs of icy pain violating my legs & lower torso as I trudged
on, my eyes fixed on the shoreline.
"Don't worry, baby, I won't let you go! I promise. I've got the boat!" These sentences and other similar utterings tumbled out of my mouth all the way to shore where I tied us to an old, sturdy stump. Once the Sundowner was secure, I mumbled & muttered myself back into the biting water and then up onto the boat where I crawled to and collapsed on top of Jake. We sobbed & shuddered as we clung to each other, both of us not quite sure how or why we escaped the terror Lake Laberge had just thrown our way.
"Don't worry, baby, I won't let you go! I promise. I've got the boat!" These sentences and other similar utterings tumbled out of my mouth all the way to shore where I tied us to an old, sturdy stump. Once the Sundowner was secure, I mumbled & muttered myself back into the biting water and then up onto the boat where I crawled to and collapsed on top of Jake. We sobbed & shuddered as we clung to each other, both of us not quite sure how or why we escaped the terror Lake Laberge had just thrown our way.
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| The Sundowner Tied to the Sturdy Stump with her 3 Drained Batteries |
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| The Infamous Rocks of Lake Laberge Loom Just around the Point |
Waves on Lake Laberge: Day 4 of the Yukon River Trip--part 1
The waves of yesterday died down somewhat in the middle of the night, but they kept us awake. The choppy waves and wind returned and were worse in the morning; it was almost like the waves were on fast forward mode; one crashed on top of the other as they reached the shore. Paddling was not an option, and we even vacated the boat as it took a beating.
Jake talked about making a go, but the choppy waves frighten me. So, we've relocated to the deck of our boat in hopes of making it easier on the Sundowner. It's better than the rocky shore but still not as comfortable as our cabin. We did not sleep last night. The waves won't stop, and the wind won't stop. I've been freezing all day. The sun is out now, but I'm still so cold; it's hard to remember the beautiful weather of shorts and tank tops from yesterday....
Click here to continue by reading "Near-Death Experience on Lake Laberge: Day 4 of the Yukon River Trip--part 2."
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Visited by a Grizzly on Lake Laberge: Day 3 of the Yukon River Trip
I heard a rustling on shore this morning, and a big grizzly sniffed his way out of the the treeline. Looking out our back window, I could tell that he noticed us right away. We made some noise, and he scampered away back through the trees. This bear instantly created a deeper, more obsessive vigilance in me. Moments later, I spotted him out of the front of our boat poking out of the treeline in a different and much close place. Instinct caused me to slam the lid to my storage box/bed three times as hard as I could, which caused the bear to dash back into the woods. Though we never saw him again, we felt his presence for a long while. The birds and their warning calls told us he was still watching us.
Jake Standing Guard after the Second Visit from the Grizzly
(Notice I'm back in the cabin; I didn't dare step out as Jake did.)
The calm, alluring waters of Lake Laberge had us fooled.
Lake Laberge (along with the warm sun) beckoned us out onto her cool waters this morning with her silky surface. We saw our second boat since entering the lake. Most of our miles gave us a lazy vacation feel; one of us ran the trolling motor, and the other paddled (still our max speed was about 3-4 mph). The winds later picked up, changing the smooth surface to a choppy mess. We ended our travel earlier than expected and exhausted our arms as we fought the winds and waves all the way to shore.
The rainbow was a nice contrast to the beginning of the winds and choppy waves. (Notice the start of whitecaps forming.)
Our new camp spot was not as desirable as last night's. The shoreline was narrow and if seated on shore, it was impossible to see up the small embankment. There was also a huge rock structure at each end. I felt this gave the bears a definite advantage; they would be on top of us before we even sensed their arrival. The waves continued to beat and bang our boat around all night long on the rocky beach bottom. We crossed our fingers that the Sundowner would float the next morning.
Our New Campsite
Me Thoroughly Scanning the Shore before Jumping off the Boat
A Look at the Waves out of Our Back Window
Jake Scouting out a Less Choppy Place to Anchor the Boat
My muscles are still very sore, and I'm still very hungry much of the time.
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