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Whitehorse: How I Lost It
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Warning: This is a lengthy blog but it covers a lot of territory and many interesting points.
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By the second day in Whitehorse the weather had still not improved.

I clung to the belief that the next part of my trip was so important that I wanted to wait for good weather to enjoy the full beauty of this drive.

Ironically, this drive is part of the same highway that I described in a previous blog as "the least attractive of all the main routes that I drove in Alaska and the Yukon".

It was so mediocre that I was quite willing to drive most of it at night. (Blog 63)

Yes, I am talking about the Klondike Highway that connects Skagway, Alaska with Dawson City, Yukon.

The part that I drove at night is referred to as the North Klondike Highway.

The part that I was not going to drive at night or for that matter in bad weather even during the day was the South Klondike Highway which connects Whitehorse with Skagway, Alaska to the south.

It was more of a gut feeling than anything else. How could I drive this stretch of road which skirts the "holy grail" of Alaska/Yukon landmarks - the Chilkoot Pass and to a lesser extent, White Pass - without doing it the justice of driving in sunshine?

That is the same Chilkoot Pass which is depicted on one version of the Alaska license plate.

It is also the same Chilkoot Pass which is such an integral part of the Klondike Gold Rush and which I discussed at length in Blog No. 55.


Since I had spent some time exploring Whitehorse on my way north to Alaska and since I am fairly impatient when it comes to waiting, the bad weather was not going to keep me glued to one spot, in this case Whitehorse. (Blog 36)


I therefore decided on the spur of the moment that I would drive to Haines, Alaska, which had eluded me on the way north because I had planned to see it on the way south. At that time, I did not know that I would decide to return over the "Top of the World Highway" (Blog 54) to Dawson City, a route which would by-pass Haines, Alaska.

By the time I started to backtrack the 140 km west on the Alaska Highway towards Haines Junction, Yukon, it was about 14:00. The plan was to drive to Haines Junction and then turn south for 242 km on the Haines Highway.

Remember, all this came about because I did not want to drive the South Klondike Highway in bad weather.

What I have found out since is that the Haines Highway is described as "one of the scenic routes of the North". Well maybe so, but it doesn't have the Chilkoot nor White Passes.

About 40 km west of Whitehorse, something unusual happened.

I can only describe it by saying "I lost it!"

Yes, "I lost it" - I lost the desire to drive!

Inexplicable, even to myself, I made a U-turn on the Alaska Highway to head back towards Whitehorse, thereby putting an end to my drive to beautiful Haines, Alaska.

Having driven over 5,000 km on this trip, the air suddenly had deflated from my balloon. I could not face another five hour road trip on a rainy day, not to mention the drive back to Whitehorse the next day.

Well, maybe there was a hint of an explanation after all.

As I passed the junction of the Northern Klondike Highway (that's the one I drove yesterday) and the Alaska Highway, there was a sign saying "Takini Hot Springs 15 km".

I took note of the sign and kept driving west along the Alaska Highway towards Haines Junction when 10 km later, as I said, "I lost it".

On a rainy, cool day like this, wouldn't it be nice to sit in a hot spring and just relax? That became my rationalization for the abandonment of the drive to Haines, Alaska. So, I never got to see Haines, Alaska.

http://www.haines.ak.us/

A half hour later I had paid my $8.00 to enjoy the hot waters of Takini Hot Springs. Well, not exactly. Life is full of disappointments; the water could only be described as "warm". That definitely did not hit the spot, as intended, on a cool and drizzly day.
http://www.takhinihotsprings.yk.ca/

As I was driving there, memories of Miette Hot Springs in Jasper National Park and, Sulpher Mountain Hot Springs in Banff National Park, which I visited in July 2007, were still dancing in my head.

Miette Hot Springs, the lesser known of the two, is particularly impressive. Relatively new with beautiful facilities, its waters are extremely hot, which is great on a cool day. How hot is it, you ask? It is so hot that you can only stay in the mineral bath for about five minutes before cooling off in a cold, and I mean really cold, water pool. The switching back and forth from hot to cold is really invigorating.
http://www.explorejasper.com/sights/miettehotsprings.htm

It made me think of the mineral bath I visited in Germany with my cousin in the summer of 2006

http://www.mineraltherme-boeblingen.de/1146218173

The Germans are really big on the "Mineralbad" (mineral bath) as it encompasses a lot more than a swimming pool. They have a variety of pools, saunas, and steam baths which all hold the promise of improving one's health, at least according to the published information.


Speaking of hot and cold water, there is one part of the Mineralbad which has pools of hot and cool water connected by knee deep walkways of running water. The idea is to keep moving and slowly walk in a circuit alternating from very cold water to very hot water.

The process of alternating between hot and cold water, known as hydrotherapy, was advocated by Father Sebastian Kneipp (1821 - 1897) and is still practiced in Germany today, particularly in the spas of the Black Forest.

http://www.kneippus.com/Discover-Kneipp/Sebastian-Kneipp/Fat her-Sebastian-Kneipp.html


I found this concept interesting since over the years I have tried alternating cold and hot water showers supposedly to strengthen the immune system.

It is however not something that one tends to keep up for any length of time as the novelty wears off pretty quickly.

On the other hand, there was another novelty at the Mineralbad that never wears off and that was the "Textilfreizone".

Literally translated, it means, the "Textile Free Zone". (German is a language of compound words, almost as bad as Welsh.) There are plenty of pictograms which warn you to not enter this indoor part of the "Mineralbad" wearing a bathing suit.

Consequently, in the saunas, steam baths, indoor, and hydrotherapy pools, there are men and women wearing nothing but a smile. Oh, I almost forgot, Germans don't smile much. On the other hand, they don't wear a sheepish grin either as they are quite comfortable with their nudity.

Public nudity at such close quarters was a personal first. I was probably the one wearing the sheepish grin.

My first encounter of the sort was in 1970. The place was a beach known as Elafonisos in the south-west corner of the island of Crete in Greece. Back then, it was still a well-guarded secret of crystal clear turquoise water, red and pink coral sand, with not a soul in sight. It was like a paradise where we could play "a la Adam and Eve".

I owe this one, Elafonisos, like many of my early travel destinations, to my late Uncle Rolf, who was an inveterate traveler. Not that he was into the things that I describe above, but he just had an encyclopedic knowledge of travel destinations and an insatiable desire to travel. Leave it to him to have known about an isolated place like Elafonisos.

There was nothing I enjoyed more as a kid or later, as a young adult, than watching his slides from the great trips he took with his young family. There is no doubt in my mind that I owe him a lot when I consider all the pleasure and enjoyment that I have gotten out of travel for many years. It would be fair to say that he was my mentor in these matters.

My second encounter of the sort was in 1996 on the vast beaches of the Mediterranean near Perpignan, close to the border between France and Spain. These beaches are known as "les plages naturelles", meaning nude beaches. They are far from the isolation of Elafonisos, but nevertheless there is a decent space between sunbathers going for the over all tan.

Well spread out could not describe the situation at the Mineralbad in Boeblingen as bathers were practically cheek by jowl and there was no place to hide for a prudish person like myself. The only recourse was to grin and bear it and take in as much as possible for this was not about to happen back home.

Given my limited experience, is it any wonder that I wore a sheepish grin in the Mineralbad in Boeblingen? I don't know whether I had a sheepish grin; perhaps instead I was struggling to keep my eyes where they were supposed to be!

Excuse me for digressing, but these are wonderful travel memories which are brought into my consciousness by my present travel and in this case the Takini Hot Springs.

Because the water was only warm I was inclined to make my stay as short as possible but upon second thought, I thought I would try something new and relax.

The ten fellow bathers were mostly retired people driving to and fro between the "Lower 48" and Alaska on the "Alcan" Highway. That is how the veterans refer to the Alaska Highway. I have to admit, being confused by the Alcan Aluminum Company, I actually asked what that stands for only to be told the obvious - ALCAN, comes from the words "Alaska" and "Canada".

In overhearing their conversations, I realized that over the years these veteran mobile home travelers had accumulated an encyclopedic knowledge of the Alcan Highway and everything else that is around it. They had endless stories about places along the road.

I found out from them that the Hot Spring not to be missed along the Alaska Highway is the Liard River Hot Spring at kilometer 765. It is distinguished by its beautiful setting in boreal spruce forest and its hot waters flowing in creeks and accumulating in natural pools.

http://www.env.gov.bc.ca/bcparks/explore/parkpgs/liard.html

When the mobile homers left the pool, there was only me and another gentleman remaining.

On the theory that most people have a story from which I can learn something, I struck up a conversation. This led to the man who had been silent up to now opening up like a fountain.

My theory was right. I did learn a lot.

Our common bond was Yellowknife, NWT. He was based in Yellowknife, a place I was still keen about after my recent visit and blogging (Excursions: Blogs 27 - 33).

More specifically, he was in charge of training the Canadian Rangers for the north.

I had no idea that Canada had a quasi-military group, composed of individuals coming from the area being patrolled, called the Canadian Rangers.

It was interesting how he loved living in Yellowknife and going on long isolated snowmobile patrols in the Far North. It is a tough life, hard on the family, as a great deal of time is spent on isolated patrols.

His escape from the cold was a piece of property on the Gulf Coast of Alabama which provides him with lengthy periods of time in a warm climate.

For more details:

http://www.army.forces.gc.ca/lf/English/7_5_1_1.asp

In the end I spent a good two hours in the "warm" waters of Takini Hot Springs.

Back in Whitehorse in the early evening, the beautiful memories of my Nordic Walk around Frame Lake (EXCURSIONS: Blog No. 45) in Yellowknife, NWT came back into my consciousness. Could there be a nice Nordic Walk here in Whitehorse?

The obvious walking route would be the promenades along the fast flowing Yukon River. They are paved and well marked with information panels giving plenty of historical and geological information.

In the end, it is about one kilometer in one direction and then back along the Yukon River for another two which comprised the extent of my Nordic Walk. This walk turned out to be not as interesting as the Frame Lake walk from the viewpoint of terrain, scenery nor length. Frame Lake is unique and shall be remembered as a highlight of Yellowknife. (Blog 15)

On the final part of my walk, I took a swing through downtown during which I happened to run into John with whom I had temporarily joined forces in our failed attempt to drive to Inuvik, NWT from Eagle Plains, Yukon. (EXCURSIONS: Blog 61).

We agreed to talk over the highs and the lows of our short trip together over supper at Giorgio's Cuccina - a fine Italian Restaurant.

http://www.giorgioscuccina.com/ (you've got to check out this website)

This place really hits the spot; it is a great restaurant both from the viewpoint of décor and great Italian food.

Over a bottle of Italian wine we relived the great moments of the Dempster Highway. Talk about travel revealed that we had done many of the same trips in traveling the world. As I said in the earlier blog, John was very guarded about any aspect about his personal life; travel was our common ground since he had probably traveled more than I had.

With his immaculate French and Spanish, a lot was possible in exploring countries where these languages are spoken.

My last great "adventure" in Europe, in the summer of 1998, was to bicycle the "El Camino de Santiago" from St. Jean Pied de Port, France to Santiago de Compostela in Galicia, Spain, spanning a distance of 745 kilometers.

The "Camino" is a redoubtable story that perhaps has no parallel in the history of Europe. Since the Middle Ages, pilgrims from all parts of Europe have been walking the Camino, following the trail's "cockle shell" icon. This was done in the belief that doing this pilgrimage once in your lifetime would result in a dispensation from purgatory.

To this day, pilgrims and quasi-pilgrims like me, walk, bicycle, or ride on horseback in order to follow and experience this historical trail to the cathedral at Santiago de Compostela. At the end of the trek, it is tradition to descend the stone steps to a small burial chamber to kiss a sarcophagus. To believers, this is the final resting place of James the Apostle. To non-believers, it is a ritual that signals the end of what, for many, has become a life changing experience.

http://www.caminodesantiago.me.uk/


While I cycled the Camino, John walked it.

That seemed to be a repeating pattern when we compared stories about places visited.

John was one of those rare persons who had accomplished a lot and who was able to talk about it without giving an impression of the slightest pretense.

For that it was fun having our paths cross and spending a short time together.

The weather forecast was promising for tomorrow and I had every expectation of finally hitting the Southern Klondike Highway on the way to Skagway and, of course, the Alaskan pan handle. It looked like I would finally be on my way.

Coming Soon: South to Alaska