A too-exciting day on the Dempster: Part I

This was a day I could have happily done without, but it does make for a good story. The day started out really well...

Tombstone Terr. Park

Last year, I'd made it to Tombstone in cold and driving rain. It had a wild, raw beauty, though, and I was sad to leave what had been my furthest point north at that time. I loved the open tundra and the sculpted mountains. I was eager to return and see more of the park than I could last year, much of which had been obscured by ever-shifting clouds.

Breakfast in Tombstone Terr. Park campground

Wakey Wakey
With a good night's rest, I was eager to get going, as I knew it was going to be a long day of driving.

Had a good hot breakfast of whole cooked grains and coffee. Yes, I'm drinking coffee on these long days of driving. It helps, especially if you don't sleep well at night.

I have got cooking breakfast down to a finely tuned affair. I boil water for a hot drink, then use the remaining water in the pot to basically steam eggs for an omelet or cereal in the same dish as I eat it in. This way, cleanup is a breeze — no stuck-on burned food. It's pretty slick. The last of the hot water is used for washing the dishes and my face. Having hot water to wash with is a luxury I really appreciate.

Arctic hare

The arctic hares kept me amused with their antics. They are pretty unafraid of the people here.

Mosquitoes continued to be uninvited guests in pretty much everything. They will be constant companions all summer, so I'm resigned to their unwelcome presence.

I rate mosquitoes on a scale from 1-10, with 1 being none, and 10 being totally intolerable (cue running and screaming). The mosquitoes this morning were about a "3" — annoying but just there.

Uninvited breakfast guest.

I'll be referring to this "Mosquito Index" throughout the trip, so take note.

The drive began with remarkable scenery. The mountains here have NOT been glaciated. It's hard to fathom this, as we wonder how there could not be glaciers this far north with all that ice and snow! However, in order for glaciers to be formed, they need snow to accumulate over the course of seasons, so that the snow can be compacted into ice.

This area is actually a desert — so while it does get snow, it melts during the summer and does not accumulate. So, no glaciers, not even in the past during the "Ice Ages."

The scenery was everything I remembered. Majestic peaks jut above green valleys, with late spring snowbanks cascading down steep snow chutes and some still forming snow bridges above clear streams.

The mountains look like those that I've seen pictures of in the highlands of Scotland, covered with scrubby bushes and very few trees. Willows, berry plants and wildflowers grow by the side of the road, although the latter are not in full flower yet. Willow fluff, however, is everywhere.

Snow along a creekbed, Tombstone Terr. Park

It's really beautiful, wild, lonely country. Some might call it "bleak."

I stopped a couple of times, trying to balance the fact that I would be back here on the return trip south, with trying to take advantage of good weather while it was here. One never knows when things are going to take a turn for the worse!

Small lake at Tombstone Terr. Park, with flock of goldeneye ducks. Note the smoky haze...

Unfortunately, it was pretty hazy, not the crystal blue sky that I've come to know and love in the past few days. Turns out there was a forest fire burning, so I could barely see Tombstone Mountain in the distance. More on this later!

Muskrat in Two Moose Lake

Two Moose Lake
There were no moose here, but I stopped because there were ducks, and I thought it would be an excellent time to get the spotting scope out. The ducks turned out to be another flock of goldeneye ducks, but they were so far away that I was not able to get good pictures. The mosquitoes were fierce (7 on the Mosquito Index), and I didn't feel like going into full mosquito protection mode this early in the day, and for a short stop.

However, there was also another animal swimming around that caught my attention. At first I thought it was a beaver, but upon getting a closer look, I now think it was a muskrat. Turned out there were several of them, lazily paddling and diving around in the lake.

Muskrats are smaller than beavers, but baby beavers can look like muskrats, so I'm not absolutely positive, but the tail didn't look flat when one of them dove under the water.

I also didn't see evidence of any beaver lodges, and one of them dove down near the edge of the lake and didn't come up, so I think it went into a burrow. You can trace where they are swimming by bubbles on the surface.

So I'm going with muskrat.

Elephant Rock (using telephoto lens)

Fossils and Tors and Elephants, oh my!
The mountains change throughout here, and the road passes through an area with limestone tors that jut up above the mountainsides. The helpful logbook mentioned that tors are ONLY found in areas that have not been glaciated: if the area HAD been under flowing ice, the glacier would have ground down the tors and they would not exist. They are a product of weathering.

One of the interesting tors was an "Elephant Rock" above the ________ River. It was really far away, and I was glad I was warned that one needed binoculars to see it.

The river along here is beautiful, and I took a few precious minutes to walk along the water. There are fossils in some of the rocks! It would be fun to explore further, although I need to note that all fossils are protected under Canadian law. You can look for them, but you must leave them for others to enjoy.

Just as I was leaving, a couple in a blue van drove up. The guy took off to look for the Elephant; the woman had a towel and sandals and looked like she was going to go for a swim. I nodded to them, thinking that I'd seen them elsewhere on the road, perhaps at another stop.

WILDFIRE!
Now out of the Park proper, the road wends its way north, climbing steeply up the "Seven Mile Hill," where an excellent view of the surrounding area can be appreciated.

I stopped again, because at the viewpoint, a towering dark cloud from a wildfire could be seen. It looked, in a word, terrifying.

 A couple of motorcyclists — one from Vancouver and his friend from Alberta — drove up and stopped. I asked them about the fire, and they were happy to tell me that the road was open, and that the main part of the fire had passed. However, they had gone through a LOT of smoke. One of them said that visibility was "near zero" and that he had almost run into a white van that had stopped in front of him. He simply could not see it for all the smoke.

They reported that they had not been able to get through the day before because the wind had kicked up and the authorities had closed the road. However, although the wind remained strong, the main part of the fire had passed to the leeward side of the road, so they had opened it. There were fires burning on both sides of the road, they said. It was sobering, but they said unless the wind switched, it would be safe to go through. Just smoky.

The fire from afar.

One of them was armed with a GoPro camera, which I guess was recording while they went through, but the footage can't be viewed on the fly. The other fellow showed me pictures on his iPhone.

I figured it was best to get going and get through it before conditions changed, but I was VERY nervous. Of course the road didn't go straight, but went east, then west, veering around so that I never could determine exactly where it was going to go through the fire.

Getting close now.

Black smoke, white smoke.
I've heard that one is from soot, the other from steam.

The smoke cloud got closer and closer. It seemed to be alive, changing in color and intensity, billowing and swirling up into the air.

It also seemed to be making its own weather. The soot particles apparently rose in the air and provided nuclei for condensation, so in addition to the smoke cloud, tall white cumulus clouds were also forming. I almost expected lightning to start flashing!

And the smoke gets thick.
There was fire on both sides of the road at this point.

The kind of weird thing was that the view of the fire was so clear. The wind was blowing at a pretty good clip, so there was this huge fire, but it was blowing the smoke away from the road, so that — until I was in the thick of it — I could see the smoke cloud very well.

The trees here are spruce trees. They are not big trees, so I never saw a wall of flame, but as I got into the fire area, I could see burning trees.

Burning trees through the smoke.

There was no fire suppression going on, just a lot of fire personnel out monitoring the situation. They didn't seem to be alarmed, which I took as a good sign, however, I really did not tarry to watch. I just wanted to get out of there!

I can honestly say that this was the closest I've ever been to a live wildfire. It's a very unsettling experience.

The weird thing to me is the hopscotch nature of fire. It does not burn everything in its path. It burns hot in one place, scorching everything to bare earth, then flies to another, leaving behind untouched live trees and plants. Some plants get charred from the heat, but manage to survive. I guess birds fly away, small animals burrow down into the earth, and larger animals just run. I kept thinking of the fire scenes in "Bambi."

You can see the extent of this fire; no wonder they were watching it carefully!

Having made it through safely, I soberly pressed on. More adventures awaited.