A week with an old friend in an old jeep and 700 contiguous miles of mountainous landscapes in the north country. Not a bad way to start an October.
Cottonwoods displaying their annual end-of-the-season outfits in Haines' Chilkat Valley. 
Atop the pass in the tiny sliver of British Columbia, protruding into what could've been a Yukon-Alaska border. Biting winds were the theme of this afternoon, despite my lack of gloves...
A soon-to-be not-so-lazy river, babbling its way through southern Yukon's boreal forest in the early a.m.
These kettle ponds looked like promising moose habitat, particularly when we saw signs drawing attention to hunters that hunting was prohibited in these wetlands. Sure enough, when I gazed down toward the second pond, a big ol' bull sprinted silently into the willows. By the time Scott laid his eyes upon the scene, the moose had pulled the ol' disappearing act.
Scott doing the Twisted What's Up Dance, and me taking a moment to reminisce of bygone days when we walked like Egyptians next to an elongated yet thoroughly shallow Lago Dezadeash.
No comments:
Post a Comment