All the regulars were there: the stone sheep at Muncho Pass, the bison herd near Coal River, the shiny black ravens everywhere along the road. By Watson Lake, we had stopped counting the bears…

There was the tasting of the first fireweeds and a happy dance as we entered the Yukon and recognized the familiar smell of the northern air. “It’s our birthplace!” Mara exhorted. Ahh! The feeling of home. I hope they always feel this way when they come here.

There were barely any bugs at Liard Hot Springs this year, which made for a pleasant soak as we chatted with another traveling family from Quebec. And at 9 pm, the sun was still high in the sky as we inched towards Whitehorse.