Winter in the Subarctic

The second week of January, I decided Wisconsin in the dead of winter was just too warm. Too much daylight, too little snow, and those ungodly temperatures in the 20’s became too much to bear. I hopped on three planes and finally found myself in the exceedingly more pleasant Yukon territory in Canada.

At long last, I arrived at my destination. After a long day of rushing around indoors decked out in full winter garb, stepping outside into the -25 air in Whitehorse felt cool and refreshing. Jeremy arrived home from work later that night, wearing his bush pilot flight jumpsuit and a fur hat, and I knew I was officially back in the Yukon.

Winter in Whitehorse, Yukon

Jeremy was on call for the next couple days, so we spent our time meandering around the backyard and town, getting acclimated to what would be the coldest week of the winter. We also paid a visit to the neighbors’ spherical Icelandic sheep, who were probably breathing a sigh of relief at finally having a pleasant temperature.

After Jeremy’s final flight, we headed just down the road from his house to the Takhini hot springs. It was quite the bustling place for being around -30 outside. Initially, stepping into the water felt scalding, but soon after that we decided the place should be called the “Takhini Lukewarm Springs.” Maybe the air was just too cold. It was a unique experience. Every single thing above the water frosted over immediately, including every strand of hair, nose hair, eyelashes, and the stubble on Jeremy’s face. Unfortunately, we did not get pictures.

If I had to describe what the Yukon is like in the winter in one word, it would be “magical.” Yes, it was brutally cold, and I had to wear two pairs of snowpants and toe warmers between my multiple layers of socks just to walk through town, not to mention the fact that my dry hair frosted over as soon as I stepped outside. But, the Yukon takes “winter wonderland” to a whole new level. Everything was sparkly and frosted, plus every tree in town was lit up for Christmas. And there are a lot of trees in town.

Power Outage

On Jeremy’s first day off, we woke up to -39 degrees and no electricity or running water. Luckily, the house had a fireplace and gas stove, so we were able to stay warm and eat oatmeal by candlelight. After we finished our tea, the time came to bundle up to go use the outhouse a ways behind the house. 

-39 degrees was by far the coldest temperature I have ever experienced. I stepped outside and said, “This isn’t that bad!” However, I was wearing enough clothes to make me as spherical as the Icelandic sheep, and I hadn’t even made it to the outhouse yet. When I sat down on the porcelain toilet seat in the doorless outhouse, I thought hell must have frozen over. I envisioned my entire rear end turning black with frostbite and falling off. Okay, it wasn’t that bad, but my stinging backside greatly needed to be close to the fireplace afterwards. Joey the dog had already thought of that idea and beat me to it.

Jeremy and I stayed in town for most of the day, making use of the running water. We stopped in a coffee shop that was full of people who appeared to be completely unphased by the weather. I heavily trodded to my seat wearing four pairs of pants, a fur hat and a scarf covering most of my face, while the women at the next table over were wearing stylish dresses and heels. I longed to be like them, but even so, I felt like I was the only one sensibly dressed here. 

We took a brief walk down by the Yukon river. Below is the steamboat S.S. Klondike, looking classy.

I donned an additional down coat and did not look as classy.

When we got back home, Jeremy’s dad, the hero of the day, had gotten the water running again, so all was well. 

Haines Junction, Yukon

The next day we took a road trip to a small town called Haines Junction, home to Canada’s highest mountain and Kluane National Park. Again, it was fiercely cold, and we didn’t spend much time outside. But just seeing the views from the road was glorious.

We got home and finished off the day with a soak in the hot tub. The next day we would travel on the Klondike Highway towards Skagway, Alaska, the spectacular final adventure of my trip.

The Road to Skagway, Alaska

We first stopped at Miles Canyon in Whitehorse. For being so frigidly cold, the river was not fully frozen. I was somewhat surprised there were several other people out on the trail system. It was still around -25 or so, which apparently does not stop the Yukoners from enjoying their beautiful backyard. 

A little further down the road, we stopped at the frozen Emerald Lake. There was a full sun dog around the sun, and everything was gorgeously sparkling and perfect. 

Next we came to the world’s smallest desert, the Carcross Desert, which was covered in snow and didn’t look very desertlike. 

I stopped to use the outhouse here and quickly found the toilet to be completely frozen over, like an ice tunnel. Shards of ice were protruding from the sides all the way down, making the whole thing look like a large ice lamprey. I reported my findings to Jeremy, who was very proud of me for using it anyway. 

We then drove around the tiny, quaint community of Carcross. It looked completely shut down for winter, but a couple of the itty bitty houses had smoke coming from their chimneys. 

As we continued on the Klondike highway, we passed into British Columbia, and suddenly there was a lot more snow. Signs along the road warned that we were driving through avalanche zones.

The farther we got, the more our surroundings turned completely white.

As we passed the border into Alaska, it got viciously windy, and we had to hold onto our hats. I told the border officer I was from Wisconsin. His main question for me was, “Did you come here to warm up?”

Winter in Skagway, Alaska

We finally made it to Skagway just as it was getting dark. Skagway is one of the stops those huge Alaskan cruise ships make, so the small town can get ridiculously crowded in summer. In the middle of winter, however, it felt like we were the only ones there except for the few locals that stayed year-round. We checked into a little bed and breakfast, grabbed dinner at the only restaurant still open, and retired for the night. 

The next morning it was much warmer, so we were able to spend a good amount of time outside. This is one of the main streets of the town.

It was amazing how quiet everything was, even right by the ocean.

We stopped at the gold rush graveyard, a very creepy sight tucked away in the woods. It’s full of people who apparently did not have much of a life expectancy. The gravestones looked like those you’d see in cartoons, all with different fonts and stuck in the ground at random angles. Many of them were surrounded by old wooden crib structures.

Behind the graveyard is the trail to Reid Falls, a lovely frozen waterfall. The trail was entirely covered in ice, so I mostly just slid along on my butt.

We were running out of daylight, so the last thing we did was drive through the village of Dyea, adjacent to Skagway. It was even more rugged over there. We did notice one man out for a bike ride despite the roads being coated in thick ice. You can really tell the difference between locals and tourists here.

We then drove back the way we came in, stopping briefly at one last outhouse – the snow was drifted so high around this one that the door was stuck open, and the snow was almost level with the toilet.