Last night we managed to score a free site at Pine Lake Campground because the person who reserved the site didn’t show up. The site we pulled into was a pull through, and well suited to our needs. It had a picnic table, campsite for our tent, and a neighbor in an RV who kept to himself.

Mr. Ranger sir showed up and told us the site was reserved. He and Pete conversed for a long time, finally he made some calls and discovered those who’d secured the site had decided not to put in an appearance. I told Pete we got lucky since the odds of this happening were next to zero. This was a “phew “moment for us since I’d already set up the tent.

In the morning, we first went to Haines Junction and checked out the quintessential visitor’s center. An interpreter met us at the door and spent considerable time talking with us about the exhibits and about Native culture in general. I finally fell off the conversational path and upon seeing a drawing on the desk – a Native based image of a whale – began talking with the artist, who could not have been over 20.

I gave him a copy of The Boy who Harnessed the Wind because it was about a differing Native culture. I don’t know if he’ll read it. If he does not, maybe he’ll pass it on to another appreciative reader.

I then talked with another young Native, this while studying a floor map of the area trails. He said he’s a quad user, as are the other Natives in the area – and that they have exclusive rights to certain trails. I argued that they are tearing up the trails; he said the grass goes back. I added “not in my experience,” and that was that.

We got showers at a laundromat. $3.00 for four minutes. This was the fastest four minutes of my life.

We headed to the village of Champagne, where the Natives are reputed to have well bred stock horses. The town’s claim to fame is hubcap city – a series of found hubcaps on poles. We asked an ATVer about riding the trails and was told that the First Nation people frown upon this. Just more of the same, I thought.

We took off, in the direction of Whitehorse. It had been raining hard, on and off, so we passed up riding on a few trails. Our main concern was that we were nearly out of hay. We lucked out. At a no camping pullout, a fellow suggested to Pete that we stop at the Heart Bar Ranch, outside of Whitehorse, and see if they had hay.

The sun came out on the way there. We pulled into a long driveway – there were horses pastured on our left, then on our left and right. A sign on the left said “Breathe.” A woman greeted us part way up the driveway and said she’d get Gail. Gail appeared minutes later. We told her we had two compressed bales and needed more hay. She set us up with six bales.

Pete asked if she had lodging for the horses. She obliged by showing us her corral area. We chose to put the mares in a square wooden corral – the horses were happy to have the limited room to move around. This made me cognizant of the fact that, considering they’ve been contained the entire trip, that they have done amazingly well.

Gail then invited us to dinner, and we accepted. We had tacos outside, under a shelter with two of her Woofers and her ranch hand and her ranch hand’s husband. After, she gave us a tour of the upper area of her 400-acre ranch – it included a pasture breeding area, and a Mongolian made yurt where she teaches her Native based energy classes. The yurt had a colorful door and designs. Festive.

We then walked down to the main pasture area and watched horses and talked about them for over an hour.

I told Pete I’d like to return to Heart Bar next summer, maybe in June. I don’t know how I’ll pull this off. I’d like to bring Hrimmi along. This might give her a sense of purpose that’s currently lacking.

Next: 163. 6/15/24: Day #10, Trail ride on the TransCanada trail