It feels draughty after ten minutes, never mind an entire Yukon winter.ĭrive the Dempster Highway Point your car north on the Dempster Highway from Dawson City to Inuvik in the Northwest Territories. But we do get to stand inside London’s cabin, where the writer spent some of his nine months in the Yukon, losing all his teeth to scurvy in the process.

President Trump’s grandfather, Frederick, who it is claimed made part of his fortune running brothels in the Klondike, would recognise the Palace Grand Theatre, the post office and the mortuary.Ī planned “flightseeing” tour of the spectacular jagged peaks in nearby Tombstone Territorial Park is cancelled because of poor weather, which means there are also no northern lights to be seen. The settlement was built on permafrost, so that with the thawing of the ground each summer, many of the timber buildings have become charmingly wonky. Even McDonald’s and 7-Eleven are nowhere to be seen. What on earth are you people - all 2,128 of you - doing here, living so far away from everyone else?Īs with many frontier towns - the Arctic Circle is only 150 miles away - Dawson City offers a sense of liberty: nature is all around and big government is not. We have crossed so much vast and empty territory. It’s about the size of a dinner plate and large enough to feed us for several days should we get lost.Īlthough it takes us just seven hours to cover a journey that in gold-rush times would have lasted many days, there is still a sense of wonder on arriving at this little hub of civilisation. This is Steve Watson, the proprietor, who sells us one of his famed cinnamon buns. He has a long white beard draped over his stomach and is quietly snoozing in the corner with his dog. We stop off at Braeburn Lodge, a spartan one-storey roadhouse where the only other person around is a bald man aged 70 or so. Then we hit a long bend and I feel the back wheels beginning to slide away from under us. Occasional oncoming trucks throw up blinding spray, but a steady 60mph feels comfortable. For starters, the road surface, packed with ice, is invisible. It’s not quite ice-road trucking, but for someone who likes to drive it is certainly an enjoyable, slightly hairy challenge. The dashboard tells us that it’s minus 22C outside.

The next day I’m behind the wheel of Tobias’s SUV, driving the 330 miles from Whitehorse to Dawson City along the North Klondike Highway.

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