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I stumbled out of the trailer at about one in the morning, in search of the outhouse. For the first time in nearly a week, I was greeted not by the perpetual twilight of the Yukon, but by utterly black, starlight-squined velvet. Mars glared his baleful eye at me as I flicked on my lantern.

Later that morning, we ate a quick breakfast, and were off by about eight o'clock. We had a lot of ground to cover if we wanted to spend any time in Stewart. The southern end of Highway 37 is in much better condition than the north, and we spent no time waiting at construction sites before we got to Meziadin Junction. The Junction itself is simply a T-intersection where Highway 37, from Kitwanga to the south and Watson Lake to the north, meets Highway 37A to Stewart. Shortly after the junction we found ourselves back in the familiar sounds of road travel in a BC summer: idling engines and paving equipment. The construction zone ran nearly the entire length of the highway, but the crews were on the ball, and the pilot car guided us down the stretch of road without incident.

We hit Stewart around just in time to grab lunch at the Bitter Creek Cafe, the only restaurant in town. The burgers were good, and the ice cream from the video store down the street was even better. As we were heading back to the truck, we watched a vintage Rolls-Royce glide to a halt and park curbside. The car was in beautiful condition and was driven by a gentlemen who believes as I do, that cars are meant to be driven, rather than simply sit in a showroom or on a trailer.

Between Stewart and the head of the Portland canal lies the estuary, which is really the delta of the Stewart River. The ground is soggy, but full of life. The locals have constructed a raised wooden walkway over the terrain so you can see everything without having to slog through the muck or destroy the vegetation. After we observed some of the assortment of wildlife we headed over to Hyder.

I wasn't expecting much from Hyder, and I wasn't disappointed. There is no US Customs checkpoint, and as soon as you cross the border, the nice, two-lane paved road transforms into a potholed dirt track. I can actually say that I've never set foot in Hyder, since we drove to the end of the road, turned around, and came straight back to the border. The border guard at the Canada Customs checkpoint didn't even lose sight of us, and we had a little laugh as he checked over our passports.

On the way out of Stewart, we managed to find ourselves a sani station, so we could dump our wastewater and pick up some fresh stuff. The day was starting to get quite warm, even this close to the ocean and the glaciers, and we were glad to get back into the air-conditioned truck and back onto the road.

When we got to Kitwanga, we stepped out of the truck and into a blast-furnace. The temperature had shot up to something like thirty-five degrees Centigrade, and even after our brief trip into the local general store, we were sweating freely.

Once we got onto Highway 16, the going was quite a bit faster. The speed limit was 100km/h, instead of the 80 or 90 of Highway 37, the roads were wider, and there were more passing lanes. However, we ran into another construction site, the final of our trip. I was expecting one of those "idling is harmful for the environment" signs I'd seen at most construction sites up till now. However, at this point I was perfectly happy to waste that litre or two of gas per hour, since shutting down the engine meant turning off the A/C, and that would be harmful to me. We sat in the line of traffic for the better part of a half hour while the road crews did their thing. The occupants of the car ahead of us decided to leave the vehicle for some horseplay on the road shoulder; thankfully none of them were forgotten when the long line of cars and trucks began to snake its way past the source of the gridlock.

The heat hadn't slackened when we stopped for supper at Tim Horton's (the first since Whitehorse) in Smithers either. At this point, Dad and I decided that it was pointless to stop before the weather had cooled down sufficiently to sleep in the trailer, since our little Scamp didn't have air conditioning. However, Prince George was only four hours away, so by the time things cooled down, we'd be at or near our destination. It was decided then that Dad would drive half of the remaining distance while I dozed, and we'd switch out as darkness fell. Turns out that there's a rest stop almost exactly between Smithers and Prince George, so I set the GPS for this rest stop, and then settled down to snooze for a little bit.

When we reached the rest stop, we stretched our legs, cleaned the crusty layer of bug guts from the windshield and headlights, and then continued on. By the time we reached Vanderhoof, full darkness had descended upon us, and it was 11:30 by the time we made it to P.G. We drove into the driveway, plugged in the trailer to keep the food from spoiling, and headed into the house, to sleep in a real bed.

I thoroughly enjoyed this trip, and there were many places I'd like to revisit. However, I think I'd avoid Highway 97 this time; it's really useful if you want to get to or from the Yukon in a hurry, but it's not nearly as scenic as Highway 37. I want to maybe head back up to Boya Lake Provincial Park, and spend a couple days there relaxing, canoe around the lake a little bit, and generally just drink in the vista. Watson Lake is a good place to spend the night on the way through, Whitehorse has some interesting attractions, but I can't for the life of me think of a reason why I'd want to go back to Alaska. The Americans seem to love it; it's like their Mecca. However, I've found plenty of places to go in my own province that will keep me occupied for a long time. And when those are exhausted, I can just start heading east to the other nine provinces, or north to the three territories.