July 07, 2019.
After leaving Carmacks we put another big shift in against strong head winds which are proving to be a killer. However, the fact we were heading for an area labelled a good camp, made the pain bearable. It, though, was anything but a good camp. Heavily over grown and literally infested with midgies, black fly and mosquitoes the size of small dogs!
With that horrendous night over we cracked on the following day. We got to Fort Selkirk and it was here that we bumped into some Canadians cutting about in speed boats. They, to our pleasure, told us there was a little old lady 40km down river who cooked up pies and sold them. This was our next mission, a break from the freeze dried rations we were quickly getting board of. After a further 20km we came across a family group, floating down the river in four canoes. They then told us the little old lady was actually 102km away and not very friendly! This story and the pies seemed to be slipping away from us. The next 2 days we spent speculating as to whether she existed and if she did, if we’d survive the encounter!
The winds stayed strong and straight at us. Camping was better than previously mentioned and speculation grew regarding the pie lady now known as Mrs Miggins. Two days after the first mention of Miggins we came across a sign saying “bakery/camping in approx 9km”. The time was 1615 and we were worried she might shut at 1700. Sean and myself proceeded to beast ourselves and paddle sprinted the 9km to pre order for everyone. We also joked we were rushing into our own dismembering!
Upon hitting the nine kilometre mark we spotted an old torn Canadian flag. We beached our boats and followed the small path through the undergrowth. The first thing to come into view was a proper rickety old shack, windows smashed, curtains blowing in the wind. The films Wolf Creek and Texas Chainsaw Massacre we’re starting to spring to mind. We tentatively pushed on to be greeted, just behind the shack, with a well kept lawn, nice house and very friendly family that provided full menu of breakfast, lunch and dinner for paying customers and a pitch for tents if needed. Panic over. We obviously stayed the night.
Fully fed we left the following morning and paddled on. The forest wildfires to the north would paint the sun an almost crimson red in the evening sky which is a sight to behold but also alarming as the locals are putting it down to climate change. The summers are getting dryer and dryer with little rain. Two days on from the friendly family (not the murderous Mrs Miggins) we arrived in Dawson. This is where Sean and I would say goodbye to Toby and Carl. Their company has been amazing and the laughs had will be missed. Thanks Carl and Toby.
Sean and I have spent three nights in Dawson sorting admin, restocking and visiting Parker from Gold Rush’s gold mine. We also experienced the infamous sour toe cocktail!
We leave in a few minutes now venturing into even more wild territory.
Speak to you soon and remember to love many, trust few........