The Dempster, Canada’s northernmost highway, is a gravel road that extends 461 miles from Dawson all the way to the Arctic Ocean. Jeremy and I traversed about 120 miles of the highway to camp at Engineer Creek, but we made a few stops along the way.
First we stopped at the Tombstone Mountain viewing point. The abrupt, jagged peaks of the Tombstone range give it the nickname “Canada’s Patagonia.” Tombstone is the mountain farthest in the distance in the below photo. Joey (Jeremy’s dog, and our fearless tour guide) enjoyed the opportunity to frolic among the alpine shrubbery.
We continued a few more miles up the road before parking and climbing a mountain called Angelcomb Peak.
Angelcomb Peak is 5,709 feet tall, according to Google Earth. I’ve done a lot of hiking in my life, but my homeland has comparatively pancake-like topography. This was the most difficult hike of my life thus far.
We started the hike on a beautiful, sunny summer day. Little did we know we would pass through all four seasons on this hike, but I was prepared this time. My backpack was stuffed to the brim with extra pants, socks, a warm fleece, a winter hat, mittens, and Jeremy’s 100% waterproof jacket. Not to mention additional water bottles and trail mix. Carrying all these things was already making me sweat, and I was just wearing a tank top.
We had to make many stops during the first leg of the journey. Jeremy and Joey, both overqualified for this task as far as their mountain climbing experience goes, did not need these breaks. I, however, was beyond my maximum heart rate, and my legs had already turned to jello.
That’s the peak we were heading to in the background of the above photo. It looks like a quick jaunt over there. Looks can be deceiving.
The higher we got, the colder, windier, and slipperier the hike became. Some of the rocks were coated in ice, and we were running into more and more patches of snow. Sometimes the snow was frozen over and extremely slick. One false step and we would have slid all the way down the mountain.
Jeremy, who was leading the way, came to a snow patch that he quickly discovered was waist-deep. I watched him trudge his way through and decided now was a good time to don my coat, hat and mittens. Once finally on the other side, we both had to sit in the cold lichens and dig snow and ice out of our hiking boots. We repeated this sequence of events several more times.
A “wintry mix” was now spurting from the sky. We still had to overcome the steepest part of the hike. The last bit of the trek was nearly vertical. Jeremy and Joey chose this moment to somehow run up, drawing energy from reserves that I did not share. They soon left me in the dust. It was so steep and slippery, and I was so exhausted that I literally had to crawl up the mountain. The lichens were attracted like magnets to my pink mittens. I brought my lichen-covered mittens home as proof of my four-legged climb.
Jeremy suddenly appeared at the top, looking down at my struggle and shouting “Come quick!” Thinking he needed rescue from a herd of grizzly bears at the peak, I attempted to quicken my crawl, without much success.
When I did, at long last, reach the top of my highest mountain, my jaw dropped as I saw what Jeremy was shouting about: The most perfect, vibrant double rainbow I had ever seen, only visible from the very top of this mountain.
I felt that God was right there with us at that mountain peak. The rainbow was a gift just for us, and we could only see it once we completed our difficult climb. It reminded me that God is always faithful in guiding us through life’s trials, even when we can’t see him. Sometimes it’s not till the end of the journey that we realize God was there with us the whole time.
I could have stared at that rainbow forever, but it was time to start the descent. There was a small blizzard happening at the peak, and the clouds were still darkening. I changed into the dry pair of socks I still had in my backpack and instantly felt my strength renewed. Well, not really, but everything is made better by dry socks.
Thankfully, the temperature rose as we descended, and I was able to stuff my snow-sodden layers back into my pack. On the way down we discovered an easier, less snowy, less steep route – basically a big grassy hill. How did we miss this coming up? Well, soon we found out.
An ocean of dense, tall shrubbery loomed before us. It was so thick that at one point I lost Jeremy, and we had to play a sort of Marco Polo to find each other. Once reunited, I announced stoically, “We are in the bush.”
We took a good long time to navigate this jungle of pokiness, but I rather preferred it to the snow at steep inclines. I also took a moment to give thanks for the fact that there were no ticks this far north.
This is me, standing proud of my accomplishment once we reached the camper. The slightly darker brown color you see on the mountain is the shrubbery we had to get through – a rather large chunk of the return journey!
We hopped in the camper and continued on our merry way, stuffing our faces with snacks. Eventually we reached the peaceful Engineer Creek campground, where the mosquitos were as large as birds, but the creek and surrounding cliffs were beautiful.
Jeremy chopped wood outside while I attempted to cook my first steaks. This turned out to be a disaster, making the camper smell like burned steak for days. Thankfully we had Joey as our watchdog to keep grizzly bears from entering the camper.
Soon after this adventure we had to wrap up our trip; I was due in Michigan for my summer job. I will always remember the astounding majesty of the mountains and the unmatched tranquility of the wilderness. But don’t worry, I’ll be back.
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