Paddling From Carmacks to Dawson on the Yukon River

09 August 2010

We flew through Carmacks. The Shedd crew was keen to stick with us until Minto. Melissa, Kevin, Maureen, Konrad, and Kelsey were thrilled to join us for the infamous Five Finger Rapids. The only word we collectively decided sums up our experience in the rapids is “anticlimactic”.

The experience was anticlimactic due to the water level. You see, our map/guide book described the rapids as having 2 to 3 foot sanding waves. The Five Finger Rapids are considered to be class II. Well, we paddled up to the ominous columns of rocks that divide the river into five fingers. We stuck to the right side as all advice suggests. We paddled through fast moving water as it channeled through the columns. Those 2 to 3 foot waves were actually about half foot ripples.

Everyone had been psyched for the rapids-- especially Kevin and Konrad who were all set for the whitewater experience in our Wenonah Cascade royalex canoe. Our North Water spray cover was cinched down tight. Dave and I had spent time coaching them how to kneel and lower their center of gravity. Konrad had spent days perfecting his cross-bow Duffek stroke. Maureen was in the yellow kayak. Since I was the other kayaker that day, I taught her how to do a low brace and a wet exit in case she tipped over. While it had been fun to coach people on some advanced paddling techniques, they were unnecessary in the Five Finger Rapids.

Dave, Melissa and Kelsey were the first through the rapids. They eddied out and Kelsey proceeded to film everyone else who paddled through. Instead of capturing excited facial expressions and hair-raising steering maneuvers, she filmed people breezing right through the “rapids” with facial expressions that seemed to say, “is that it”. To be fair, the experience of a prospector during the Klondike Gold Rush was probably significantly more difficult. Their boats were not necessarily very sea-worthy or maneuverable. They were loaded down with gear. The water level fluctuates, so some had to dodge rocks, while others experienced much greater flow than us. The steamboats heading upstream had to be hauled through with a winch.

Anticlimactic sums up our experience. When we were all through, Dave veered the yellow canoe to the left. He had seen the standing waves below the middle finger of the rapids. When I asked where he was going, he exclaimed, “I'm going to find some whitewater!” Folks followed suit and enjoyed a slight thrill, paddling in the 1 foot wave train.

Rink Rapids looked and sounded a bit more daunting from upriver. There were many standing waves (bigger than 6 inches). However, the whitewater could be entirely avoided by sticking to the right side of the river.

Our last night out on the river with the Shedd crew was spent on a gravel bar in the middle of the river. All the campsites we stayed in prior to this one had been a bit more developed, complete with fire rings, super flat tent sites, occasional stacks of split wood and picnic tables. Everyone was glad to have a true back-country experience, setting up the kitchen on the beach and pitching tents on the gravel. Melissa was excited about several cool driftwood finds. Someone found a huge salmon jaw. Who knew their teeth were that sharp?! Dave and I spotted large beaver tracks in the mud near our tent.

The next day, we did one final hike, up Hoochekoo Bluff. Shortly after that, we were in Minto. Dave and I made pizza and chocolate cake to celebrate our last night with the Shedd crew.  Thanks to Melissa, Konrad, Maureen, Kelsey, and Kevin for joining us!!  It was so great to have you along.  We really appreciate your hard work—both on the river and off, working on the website updates!

The following morning, our group size shifted from seven to three. As we bid goodbye to the Shedd crew, we said hello to Scott. You see, Scott McPherson, a good friend of ours, joined us for the stretch of river from Minto to Dawson.

We paddled for four days with Scott and the river just flew by. Our daily mileage was regularly over 40 miles. We stopped briefly at Fort Selkirk and experienced the historic buildings juxtaposed with the tent city full of fellow paddlers.

We marveled at how the river changed in character, with dramatic rock cliff banks around every turn. Those established campsites became a thing of the past. Sometime between 5 and 6 pm every day, we chose a nice looking gravel bar. A thunderstorm rolled in during our second night of camping with Scott. This is the first thunderstorm that Dave and I have experienced during the North American Odyssey, believe it or not. I'm sure it isn't the last.

Most mornings were chilly. Some were foggy or drizzly. However, we noticed an enjoyable trend. Shortly after launching, the sun would get high enough in the sky to burn off any fog. It was almost like clockwork, 10:15 am, every day.

The character of the river changed where the White River's sediment-rich water poured into it. That nice aqua color we had become accustomed to changed to a milk-chocolate brown. Water from here on out, would have to be gathered in clearer tributary creeks.

Dave, Scott, and I paddled into Dawson on August 8, one day ahead of schedule. This is a good thing, because we have a major transition to make. When Dave and I head out of Dawson tomorrow, we will be on foot, heading into the Tombstone Territorial Park.

**Thanks for joining us, Scott.  It’s always a treat to paddle with you!