“So this is the taste of adventure,” I thought to myself, shaking. “It’s more tasty from the perspective of a home fireplace and a mug of hot tea.”

The rain and wind quickened. I dug out a tarp from my gear, covered my canoe and pulled it over me too. Then I lay down in the canoe with the tarp over top. Like a lullaby, the gently splattering of rain made me fall asleep in minutes. I woke up three quarters of an hour later and felt much better. It was still raining, but the wind had disappeared.

I set out again for the village of Carmacks, Y.T., 30 kilometres away downriver. The thought of hot showers and a hamburger drew me onwards through the cold rain that ran down my arms with each stroke.

When Carmacks finally drew in view, I almost yelped with glee!

That was a few days ago. Now the Yukon River is in full flood, and I’m clocking speeds of up to 18 kilometres per hour, hardly dipping my paddle. Consequently, there are few gravel bars to camp on. This makes camping a real challenge. And trying to land at a potential site can prove very difficult!

Two nights ago I paddled 67 kilometres (averaging 10 kilometres per hour) without seeing a single place to camp. Finally, my luck held and I found a great spot in an eddy. This made it easier to land. I set up my tent quickly, ate supper and fell asleep. Next morning I noticed the tree beside my tent (less than a metre away) had several long, deep claw marks from a bear. That was a bit exciting! This is definitely bear country — black as well as grizzly.