The first stretch of the river is as crystal clear as the flats of Biscayne Bay and in the morning our little faithful dog alerted us to a giant lynx on the shore about 100 feet away. It lingered for longer than we thought it would with Buddy yapping at it as it passed behind a picnic table and returned to the forest. Their were old bear tracks in the mud of the bank but no recent sign and no sightings of any bear throughout the next few days. We got on the move at 3 PM and drifted on down the current along the stretch of river that is called "The 30 Mile"
The views are grand and tall and spectacular, like slow motion driving through a national park. Large imposing rocky outcrops, giant sand and gravel slopes interrupted by low treed benches and numerous islands and gravel bars visible below the boat., Always along the shore was ice, remnants of the frozen river clinging to the shore. Olga said that we were two weeks early and we are coming to believe in the wisdom of that. We see no other people for the first two days and then on the next we pass 4 groups of canoers. A visit with one couple on the shore, a slow drift by a solo Japanese man mid river and a couple that we just drift by and wave. No one seems to share our enthusiasm and style.
At one point a male trumpeter swan leads us away from something by giving a distress call, we follow behind for half a mile then a young bald eagle swoops down to try to take advantage of an easy meal only to find the swan turn and defend himself. The days go warm and cold, sunny and raining and Jeff changes into and out of his raingear more often than he wants to. We find a shed of a moose antler, explore several wrecked steamboats and old log cabins, and soon the Teslin River joins on river right mudding the water. We camp one night at the old settlement of Hootalinqua, tying up in an eddy where countless folks before us have done before, still the feeling is of being the first to come through this country.
A beaver slaps his tail in anger at us, we stop to take pictures of First Nation spirit houses, and pass through an enormous forest burn that persists for over two hours. This part of the river is fast and the feeling is of being alone in a vast wilderness until a few miles out of town and the road comes into view. It is late and we have been travelling all day so we stop to make camp. We have tied up on a sand island just around the bend from town, we can hear the few cars pass over the steel bridge, Jeff cooks spaghetti, there is thunder and a front coming from downriver, it starts to rain.