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Dispatch #3, Wednesday, May 4: Bayshore Motel campsite (Kluane Lake), YT to Johnson Crossing, YT: Under the Bridge

Finding a place to camp was fairly difficult. The area landscape consists of numerous spruce trees and few, if any, pull-off areas. There were no corrals or horse hotels in sight. At about 5 p.m. Pete turned left, onto the South Canal Road and then immediately onto a side road. We stopped, got out of the truck, and walked down it, our fear being that if it dead ended, that we wouldn’t be able to turn around. Pete finally decided to go back to the truck and trailer, and I kept going. An older couple stopped and suggested that we could camp on the far side of the river, under the bridge we’d just crossed. They gave me a lift back to Pete, and we proposed this plan to him.

The only available campsite was a brushy area by the side of the river. I was dubious, but Pete, with great confidence, said that it would do. He set up the portable fence, and we put the horses in the makeshift corral. The bridge traffic didn’t seem to bother Raudi and Siggi, rather, they were more attuned to the sounds of ducks flying north.

The horses kept their distance from the Electrobraid wire. I later told Pete that if we can camp in a place like this, we can camp anywhere.


We’re born young
become old--
In the middle
straddle birth and death.

The bridge we venture out on
sways. To peer over the edge

Is to see life
for what it is—
Not water, ice, sweepers rock, silt, or gravel, but
all of the above.