We left camp after a few short stints of mist flurried through the sky. A solid breeze out of the north caused us to deal with a headwind most of the day.

The campsite this morning is possibly my favorite yet. A big sand bar tucked just off the base of a large mountain ridge. This particular ridge jets out of the river in massive triangular heaves of purple and red rock. The natural formations of stone remind me of my time in Boulder, Colorado, as they’re strikingly similar to the unmistakable Flat Irons that cradle the town of Boulder.

On the water we cruised through much of the day, often positioning our boat inches from the edge of the river, where the steep canyon cliffs drop into the moving water. Jackson and I affectionately refer to the move as a “wall ride”, when we coast along the edge of the cliff, gazing up momentarily at the towering rock above us.

The day brought bouts of rain and mist that tended to last around ten minutes. Most of the time it was a fine mist with just enough water and force to warrant switching into rain gear. At one point we watched as a large cloud of rain engulfed the ridge in front us, only to slowly move across the river, eventually reaching our canoe and pouring out its soul on us (see video on separate post).

Later that evening we reach our goal for the day, 40 miles. As we pull up to the confluence of 40 Mile River and the Yukon we find an established campsite and a motor boat parked at the grassy slope landing. Getting out to explore we find a sign to inform us that 40 mile, as the area is called, is a historical site. Once the first ever town in the Yukon Territory, established in the mid 1800s, it has long since been abandoned. One caretaker now lives in the old village, and folks can drive here from Dawson City. The area also held significance to the local Natives as the confluence of 40 Mile River and the Yukon marked the spot where the 40 mile Caribou herd were forced to ford the large confluence during their annual migration. The river crossing would slow the herd and back up traffic, allowing the perfect opportunity to ambush and hunt the herd. This site has been used by native people as a hunting ground and gathering spot and for over 2,000 years.

Walking around the area I ran into a young family out for a summer vacation in a backcountry cabin about a mile up 40 Mile river. The family included two young parents and two kids, the oldest of which was maybe six or seven, and one dog. In briefly talking with them I learned that the woman's father had built the family cabin by hand in the 70s, and she had spent most of her childhood raised at the outpost.

Not long after firing up their small motor boat and zooming away the family returned to our campsite. This was the first time they’d been to the cabin this season, and as they walked up to the door the father noticed bear tracks and signs scattered around the property. With no firearm, expired bear spray and two young ones aboard they decided to camp near us rather than deal with the bear at the moment. They felt better camping in our vicinity, noting that the sound of motors, people and fire should keep the bear away.

Solid Day. The rough plan for tomorrow is to try and reach the US border. Alaska here we come!

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There's something I love about paddling big rivers. I love reading the river and watching each thin section of surface water boil and swirl and move in a particular direction. Each seam of water has its own will, flowing to the path of least resistance. My job as the sternsman of the canoe is to position our boat on the best seam of current for that particular moment, whether it’s the fastest moving current, the smoothest current or finding an eddy to place the boat in for a rest. In a river this size the water is filled with hundreds of different courses, currents flowing left and right, fast and slow, turbulent and smooth. It's a beautiful mosaic of water, and I love to decipher it. 
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Day 13 of a 70 day expedition canoeing the length of the Yukon River, Source to Sea, Summer of 2018 #buffaloroamer