Heading to the land without pavement

We've spent two and a half days in Yellowknife, which reminds me of Alaska mixed with northern California coastal hippie, with both Old West and postmodern industrial chic thrown in. Colorful houses and houseboats, log cabins, modern buildings emphasizing the local minerals and industrial history of the area.


I spent an afternoon in the NWT archives, which had some interesting photos but nothing earth-shattering to add to my research. We mostly took turns exploring the town - one of us running errands while the other stayed with the dogs. It's been too sunny and warm to leave them in the van. Plus for the first time since we got to the far north, the long daylight has started playing with my mind. Five hours of darkness is just not enough for a good night's sleep, making the afternoon siesta that much more important. Yellowknife seems to have a couple of intriguing restaurants, and it's a shame we had to miss them; but that's a tradeoff for traveling with the dogs, who have been excellent and plucky company.

Speaking of plucky, Eva finally got her oil change, though her Volkwagen-ness flummoxed the fine gentlemen at Canadian Tire somewhat. They didn't have her air filter in stock; and, even if they had, they couldn't figure out where the hell it would go. That's VW for you, superior German engineering that nobody else can understand.

We bought some books, and also invested $65 in something we're calling The Structure: a stand-alone mesh tent-like thing with a nylon top that we can use at our campsite instead of that hanging mesh, which was made to hang over a bed and already showed signs of wear. Besides, it requires appropriately placed trees.

All four of us did have a snack at the Wildcat Cafe, one of the oldest buildings in Yellowknife (1937):

And we also had a lovely walk along the lake to the Northwest Territories Legislative Assembly, which is very striking:

One of the things I love about this town is the languages on the signs. I don't know what half of them are - Slavey, certainly, and probably Inuvialut; Gwitch'in? Chipewyan? Cree? It's not just anywhere in Canada that French is the fifth language on the sign.

Tomorrow we shake the Yellowknife dust off our shoes; it will be one of our longest days of driving, covering 300 of the 400 miles to Fort Simpson. We'll go back past the bison and across the Mackenzie River ferry, and shortly after that the road will be gravel for the next week or so - until we cross the border back into British Columbia.

Nelly will be happy about this, we think. Every time we leave the hotel, she makes a beeline for Eva. Clearly, we'd be better off sleeping in the van out in the parking lot than in this terrible hotel room with all the space and the carpeting and the air conditioning. Duh.

So it'll be a couple of days until we post again. So long Yellowknife - you've been great!

Flags of the many First Nations of the NWT line the walkway to the Heritage Center
Full set of photos on Flickr.