We finished up driving the “Top of the World Highway” and pulled up to the raging Yukon River, dividing us from the tourist town of Dawson City. There were two lines: one line for standard automobiles, and another line for semis, dump trucks, logging trucks, commercial trucks, and RV’s. The ferry would zip back and forth every few dozen minutes, fighting the enormous current from the influx of spring melt-water. They would fill the ferry with a dozen cars, and only one truck was allowed per visit. Since our van is considered a “car,” we didn’t have to wait forever.
That was probably the scariest ferry ride ever. The current was massive, the driver was amazing, and the shoreline was constantly being rebuilt by a guy in a bulldozer every few minutes.
Dawson is a weird town. It’s supposed to be a close reenactment of the Klondike gold-rush days. There are even people who dress in character and give tours of the buildings. It’s a touristy destination for many Canadians who want to head up north and experience what it’s like to have 1-hour nights.
Every street has campy wooden sidewalks, just like in the ol’ days. That’s actually kinda neat. We visited Dawson in 2013 and 2018, and both times we utilized the wooden planks to meander around the city. It’s a nice break from the constant driving.
Eventually we got a bite to eat at Klondike Kate’s, as per Skeeter’s suggestion when we were back in Whitehorse. Nice food and good company.
Time to get going. If we hurry, we might be able to get a hotel in Whitehorse, but it’s looking late.