Dog Sledding for the Yukon Quest by Barb Sligl

Once you’ve spent any time in the winter in the Yukon, you’re entitled to some bragging rights. Especially in February, when the nights last 17 hours, the mercury can dip to –50˚C, and the Yukon Quest is in full swing. This is when you’ll bump into down-wrapped figures lumbering the snowy streets of Dawson, curls of misty breath following everyone. And add to all that human exhalation the dogs’…

Dogs seem to outnumber people here (Dawson’s population is 1,889) at the halfway point of what’s called “the toughest race on the planet.” The Yukon Quest is 1,600 km (10 days, 2 hours, 37 minutes in the fastest time) through the frozen wilderness between Fairbanks, Alaska, and Whitehorse, Yukon, on the old “highways of the North”—historic winter routes followed by prospectors, adventurers, mail and supply carriers travelling between the gold fields of the Klondike and the Alaska interior. It was the only means of travel a century ago, and it’s still a huge part of the Yukon today.

The start and finish of the Quest alternates between Fairbanks and Whitehorse, but the place to get immersed in the race - and the winter bravado - is Dawson. Fans travel far to witness this spectacle of dogs and their mushers braving the harsh journey. And to experience the glittering beauty of winter this far north. There’s nothing like it. It’s even better if you love dogs. (Fittingly, the Yukon Coat of Arms is surmounted by a malamute, or husky, standing on a mound of snow.)

A 36-hour layover in Dawson means mushers check in, rest and fuel up, get updates on trail conditions and mingle with dog handlers, media (from all over the world), locals and groupies - all with sleepy, wind-burnt faces, and all clad in fleece and covered in dog hair.

The celebrity and mushing guru here is Lance Mackey, four-time champion of the Yukon Quest (and two-time winner of the Iditarod, and the only musher to win both 1,600-km races back-to-back). As the first to check in to Dawson, he’s also the prize winner of four ounces of gold nuggets (one of the previous year’s nuggets graces his ear as a stud). But every musher here is a star—young, old, male, female, rookies and veterans alike.

Troops of followers trudge across the frozen Yukon River to the provincial campground that becomes base camp for all the dog teams. Spectators watch the teams come and go. Like the young German photographer from Munich. It’s his first time in Canada - or anywhere this cold - and he loves it. It’s not unusual to hear multi-lingual conversations on the icy river banks and snowy streets. A group of Italians ask a local volunteer about seeing Jack London’s cabin while here. It’s closed over winter, but a call is made and someone shows up to let the Italians in for an impromptu visit. Such is the Yukon hospitality.

The camaraderie continues at Bombay Peggy’s, the go-to gathering place and watering hole (and former gold-rush era brothel). During Quest season you might sip on a Dog Ball Highball (just what it sounds like…) at the Night of Northern Naughtiness (a benefit to raise funds for the Dawson Humane Society). More merriment is found at The Pit, another bar and institution dating from 1901. And another festive spot: the Downtown Hotel, where mushers take advantage of a soft bed while tourists and neophytes swig the bar’s famous and kitschy Sourtoe Cocktail (complete with another kind of appendage, this one human).

Winter doesn’t stop anyone in the Yukon. Going on in Dawson at the same time as the Quest: a bonspiel tournament (a big deal and 110-year-old tradition) and a hockey tournament (competing is a group of doctors from New Hampshire). There are also the typical get-togethers of the rather cosmopolitan locals, like the regular meeting of what may be the most northerly scotch club (sampling single-malt only, of course; the group has been known to make the six-hour drive to Inuvik for a good scotch deal).

So what to do?

Head towards Inuvik. Not for the scotch but for the views alongside the Dempster Highway (and a reprieve from all the Dawson festivities). Driving through this barren beauty is unlike any other road trip. The white is punctuated by ribbons of turquoise overflow. At Tombstone campground the fluffy dry snow sits in big cottonballs on branches that are still auburn with fall colour. It’s the perfect spot to stop for a winter picnic Yukon style—caribou and bison sausages roasted over a fire. This is what winter adventure tastes like in the Yukon.

Back in Dawson, the way to cap it all is to hike up the Midnight Dome as twilight settles, when the snow takes on every bit of fading blue and the sky is tinged every gradation of pink. This is no monochromatic landscape. Atop the Dome, the lights of Dawson, tucked between the banks of the frozen Yukon and Klondike Rivers, beckon as the one small, sweet spot of civilization within the 360˚ view of the vast North. It’s endless…but just up the winding Yukon River is another tiny twinkling light. Dogs yowl far below. It’s a musher slowly gliding into town.