Following Our Feet : Oh, Canada...

Oh Canada...we've been exploring your backroads and villages for a while now and we've fallen in love.

You are so quirky.

You love your GIANT things, from beavers on a log

to big ol' trucks

to pet mosquitoes

and roadside Lumberjacks.

giant roadside lumberjack in yukon canada

You’ve got a sense of humor as evidenced in the many signs we saw ...

and the creative decor...

and bumper stickers.

You will make a museum or tourist attraction for darn near anything -
We visited Ft. Nelson, a fascinating collection curated by "Merle"... a lovable ancient bearded guy who was happy to show us his collection of antique cars that he still drives on occasion, along with license plates from all over the world.

We passed on the Hammer Museum (??) but spent some time in the Signpost Forest where visitors leave signs from their hometown or country.

We were fascinated with the Fire Engine Museum in Dawson City, complete with photos of the several different times the town burned to the ground.

Your food can be baffling – from poutine (French fries with assorted gravies) to bannocks - a thick heavy biscuit/bread that will fill you up until next Thursday, but was, of course, delicious once Patrick slathered it with butter and jam...

(I got the most amusement from the bannock-maker's apron...)

You construct buildings on the frozen tundra and when the foundation shifts, you just shore them up, move them, or turn them into a tourist attraction to serve as a warning to slipshod carpenters.

And your signs are hilarious AND informative, because everyone needs to be on the lookout for out-of-control bison and planes landing on the highway.

You are so BIG.

We traveled 5186 miles within the US from Florida to the Canadian border. We traveled another 3002 miles STILL IN CANADA and to the Arctic Circle before crossing into Alaska! This professionally rendered infographic will help you understand the magnitude of the distance:

We first traveled through Alberta, then British Columbia, and then we crossed into the Yukon. The Yukon is so vast that it shows up on my photo metadata as “Yukon – Unorganized Territory.”

This would imply that there was some organized territory somewhere…but I'm not sure where it was. Once you travel north from the Yukon you enter what is known as the “Northwest Territories.” Isn’t that awesomely descriptive and simple? We know it’s Northwest….and it’s a territory …and apparently it was too much trouble to be any more descriptive than that.

But in spite of your vastness, your highway system in the Yukon consists of 11 highways…Highway 1, Highway 2, etc. For those of us who regularly spout phrases like “Take 465 to 65 to the 610 bypass…” it was charmingly refreshing to say, “Take a left on 2, honey.”

You are so diverse.

The Moose Creek Crossing was run by Germans. The Dawson City shops were almost entirely run by Germans. When we asked why so many German people lived and visited there, they said that Germans really like having an extreme camping experience where there are no other people around. I think they just want to experience the cowboy/Indian/goldrush vibe, but then who doesn’t, right?

The Beaver Creek Inn was run by French people. They said they moved there because people spoke French, which was very practical of them, but we didn’t care why they moved there after we bought and ate their fresh brown sugar tart and mini apple crisp pie. (Patrick's pastry-finding skills at work again...)

We encountered tourists from all over the world traveling in cars, trucks, RVs, buses, and one hardy group traveling on a sleeper bus – something I had never seen before and can’t really say I would care to experience. It somewhat resembled vampires entering their coffin for the night when they all turned in. (Each of those little windows is a bed they slide into from the other side)