This will be the last excerpt from Rafting the Snake: A Journey Through the Yukon's Snake River Wilderness that I will place on my blog. If you find the comments below interesting, you may want to buy the book!  It is available from Amazon and Friesen Press, and any bookstore can order it for you.

​It was hard to believe how milky Milk Creek was. This fast-flowing tributary of the Snake entered its parent river with great force, but the two waters were reluctant to mix. For at least one hundred metres there was a sharp demarcation between the white waters of the Milk and the brilliant blue of the Snake. I was given to understand that it was the temperature difference between the two rivers that was the main reason for this phenomenon, and not the heavy white glacial limestone sediment of the Milk.
It was a magical place, and we spent some time on the beach where the two rivers met. Up the Milk Creek valley stood the stony massifs of the Bonnet Plume range. A little downstream, a spectacular flowerpot-like rock crowned by half a dozen black spruce trees rose up from the river. The Milk Creek valley was another potential hiking route to Mount Macdonald from the shores of the Snake. According to Wild Rivers of the Yukon’s Peel Watershed, a hike up Milk Creek leads to the base of a stunning glacier. The glacier is no doubt the source of some of the glacial sediment that gives Milk Creek its remarkable white colour.  

Around noon, we went ashore on a small grey beach to have lunch. Nearby, a large creek boiled with energy as it met the Snake. Huge black boulders were strewn about as though to emphasize the primeval force of this exuberant stream. We listened to the roaring water as we sat on black rocks and enjoyed our food. The plan was that when lunch was done, we would hike up the valley of our tumultuous creek to a splendid waterfall.
A rudimentary trail, fringed by reindeer lichen and low willows, led upward. . . In less than a kilometre we reached a yawning canyon, and torrents of water thundered over a magnificent waterfall below us. It was an impressive sight, and as best I could tell, one without a name.
 As we descended. . . It began to rain heavily. . .We crossed the stream and returned to the small beach from which we had started. Where there had been so much activity only an hour or two before, there was now only a small pile of gear and two empty canoes. We had been spotted from across the river, however, and soon another canoe was coming to meet us. Amyah and Ruth were whisked away to our new camp, while I was left behind to fend for myself in the Yukon wilderness. I clutched a can of bear spray and waited for a canoe to return.

Finally, I have been able to publish my second rafting book. It tells the exciting story of our journey down the Yukon's Snake River with two teenagers. It was a journey to remember, and I invite all to share it with me by buying Rafting the Snake: A Journey Through the Yukon's Snake River Wilderness, available from Amazon, Friesen Press,
https://books.friesenpress.com/store/title/119734000420224976
or it can be ordered through any bookstore.

Description of Rafting the Snake

 This book will entertain and enlighten with accessible prose and numerous photographs. It will take you away from the stresses of city life and bring you back to the natural world.
An account of our rafting trip on the Snake River in the Northern Yukon, it starts with our trip to the river during the Covid-19 pandemic and ends with our return to Whitehorse 12 days later. We were travelling through pure wilderness: during our time on the river, we encountered no one outside of our small group until our last day on the Peel River as we were about to be flown out to civilization. 
 The ten chapters of this book are about adventure and the natural and human history of one of Canada’s great wilderness rivers. The author, his wife, and two grandchildren battle the wilderness with its wind, rain, rapids, and mosquitoes, but all have a wonderful experience.
Running between two mountain ranges and then in a deeply carved valley through the Peel Plateau, the Snake is a stunningly beautiful river. There is much to see including Dall sheep, carnivorous flowers, peregrine falcons, a tributary the colour of milk, and blood-red mountains rich in iron ore. The reader is also taken off the river to majestic Mount MacDonald and to a thundering waterfall that few have ever seen.
The narrative of our experiences is interwoven with many beautiful photographs that allow the reader to experience the river almost first-hand.  The book also includes many sidebars that discuss the human and natural history of the river. In addition to our adventure, the reader will enjoy carefully researched information ranging from the biology of Reindeer Lichen to the dramatic events of the Lost Patrol.
This book is timely, as it strikes a blow for the protection of the environment and our planet, a topic that we need to embrace now more than ever. It is essential reading for those interested in the northern wilderness and for those who love free-running rivers. The author, a university professor, speaks from some experience, as he has also rafted and explored the Nahanni, Firth, and Tatshenshini rivers.
Margaret Atwood, who once canoed the Snake, has pointed out that to preserve our northern wilderness, people have to learn about it. She stated that, “Anything or anyone that isn’t understood, valued, and defended – made real to the hearts of others – is likely to be exploited and obliterated.”
With this book, I hope to make the Snake River Valley real to you.

Baden-Powell’s name is almost a household word, as he founded the Scout Association in 1910. With his sister, he also founded the Girl Guide Movement. His influence worldwide through the scouting movement can scarcely be overestimated.
Less well known is that he had a long military career before turning his attention to scouting. He joined the 13th Hussars in India in 1876 and did not retire from the British Army until 1910. He served in many different countries, including South Africa during the Boer War. He was in charge of the British Garrison during the siege of Mafeking which lasted 217 days. 8,000 Boers surrounded the town, and before the siege was relieved by the British, Baden-Powell’s soldiers had to eat some of their horses.
I don’t know if Baden-Powell was ever in British Columbia, but in 1971 a trail was built to celebrate the 100th anniversary of British Columbia's entry into Canada as a province, and it was named after him. This seems appropriate, as the project was initiated by the Boy Scouts and Girl Guides organizations of B.C. and much of the work of building it was done by their young members.
On May 25, 2023, we hiked the trail from Deep Cove to Lynn Valley. We started at scenic Deep Cove, and, along with throngs of other hikers, and walked a few Km to Quarry Rock which gave us a magnificent view of Deep Cove. As we went on, we left the crowds, and saw almost no one for many kilometres. Above is an image of Deep Cove from Quarry Rock.
The forest was magnificent, with unbelievably tall trees. Nevertheless, impressive though it was, the forest was only a mere shadow of its former self. Huge stumps dotted the forest here and there and bore mute testimony to the grandeur of the original old-growth forest that had been hacked out of existence by the lumbermen of yore. Some even showed indentations where the springboards had been placed to support the axe men who took down these magnificent trees.
Springboards allowed loggers to more easily fell trees with a flared base, such as firs. Notches were cut into the tree above the base and loggers then wedged in the springboard. The springboards had a steel tip which provided a good grip on the tree, and the boards had a level, springy surface on which the loggers stood. They wore hobnailed boots to prevent slipping.  Below is an image of the old loggers from BC history from a tourist placard. 
We walked through the forest solitude for several hours, although occasionally we crossed paved roads which led to some facilities further north. Then we descended to the Seymour River and went through some small suburbs. Further on, we came to dramatic Lynn Canyon with its suspension bridge before we reached the parking lot where we had left one of our cars. 
It had been a great hike.

​We were staying in Cave Creek, just north of Phoenix, Arizona. On November 23rd, 2023, a friend and I hiked in the Spur Cross area.  It was nice desert hiking.
Most impressive among the local plants were the multi-armed suguaros that towered above us in places.  Their scientific name (Carnegiea gigantea) honours businessman and philanthropist Andrew Carnegie, and they are quite a work of nature.  They can grow up to 50 feet tall, and some weight over 2,000 Kg. 
It is best to keep your distance from a saguaro.  Their spines are very sharp and almost as strong as a steel needle.  They can be up to 3 inches long and have been reported to penetrate the skull of a bighorn sheep that was foolish enough to collide with one.  According to Wikipedia, a man was killed in 1982 when he came out second best in an altercation with a saguaro. He was shooting and poking at a saguaro in an attempt to make it fall over when a 500-pound arm of the cactus fell on him and crushed both him and his car.  Then, as if to add insult to injury, the trunk of the cactus fell on him.  
We had a pleasant day, but I kept my distance from the suguaros!

On November 16, 2022, we visited a strange landscape of tortured red rock, slot canyons, and blue sky:  the Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada. The Aztec Sandstone in the area is so red, that a traveler in the early part of the 20th century who happened to travel through it at sunset said that it looked like the whole valley was on fire.  The name stuck.  
There are many nice hikes in the park.  One of these goes to Mouse's Tank.  This is an interesting "waterhole" in a deep recess in the rock.  
One can only imagine how the early travelers through this area must have appreciated the water in Mouse's Tank on a hot summer day, but why is it named after a mouse, a very small and not very impressive animal?  Well, it is not named after the animal, but rather after a notorious outlaw. 
According to the Utah Adventure Family website, Mouse was an outlaw, and he hid out in the Valley of Fire near Mouse's Tank.  Nobody else seemed to know about it, and Mouse could stay there until things cooled down. Even though he was in the desert, he usually had lots of water to survive.  Apparently the tank, does not always have water, but on our visit the water was cool and deep, as can be seen in the picture below.  

It is hard to imagine a more serene and awe-inspiring place than Zion Canyon in southern Utah.  Today it is the centerpiece of Zion National Park, the second most-visited national park in the USA. The Mormons, who arrived in Utah in 1847, explored the canyon in the 1850s and were obviously just as impressed as we were in 2022.  They named it Zion. “Zion” is a hill in Jerusalem but is also used in a general way to refer to a holy place or to the “kingdom of heaven.” 
Frederick Vining Fisher, a Methodist minister from Ogden, Utah, visited the valley in 1916, and was equally impressed.  He seems to have felt that only biblical names could do justice to the beauty of some of the geological features of the canyon.  He named three prominent sandstone peaks along the Virgin River after Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob of the Old Testament.  Today they are known as the Three Patriarchs.
The Mormons added a fourth to the three.  A nearby peak was named after the Angel Moroni, who was reported by Joseph Smith, founder of the Mormon religion, to be the guardian of the golden plates which are believed by Mormons to be the source material for the Book of Mormon.

In the photograph of the Three Patriarchs below, the three white-capped sandstone peaks from left to right are named Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  The red-topped peak between Isaac and Jacob (more or less in front of Jacob) is Mount Moroni. 

Another hike we did this summer was Grotto Canyon, which is only about 45 minutes west of Calgary.  This hike starts off in an unusual way.  The air is filled with the noise of a dozen jet engines as you start the trail from the parking lot.  Soon the source of all that noise becomes apparent as you walk by a huge magnesium plant. It is a white surrealistic building that belongs in a science fiction movie.  
You might be thinking as you read this that this is a hike you don't want to take, but the noise soon subsides as you move along, and you enter a very impressive canyon.  This makes for a great outing, and you can go for as far as you want.  After a few kilometres you leave the canyon, and come to the "Grotto" which is a cave up on a gravel hill.  The opening of the cave is quite striking, and worth the walk.  I will show you a picture of part of the canyon and the cave below.

I am going to leave the Snake River, Yukon, now.  If you want to learn more about my adventures on the Snake, you will need to get my new book once it becomes available.  I will let you know when it is published!
Now we are going to see some of the wonders of the Canadian Rockies.  This summer I did five memorable hikes in the Front Ranges of the Rockies in Alberta. I will let you know about some of the wonderful things we saw, starting with the last on.  This was a hike to Jumpingpound Mountain.  It lies about an hour west of Calgary.  It is not all that far, but some of the travelling is on a rough gravel road.  There is a good trail to its summit at 7,350 feet,  From there, most hikers take the west ridge towards Cox Hill, but we took the east ridge.  It was a bit of a rough trail, but led to a nice summit (Top number 2) where we had lunch.  It was a beautiful fall day.  
I will put in a summit photo of Jumpingpound Mountain below.  
Stay tuned for my next hike - coming soon!

As our rafts nosed in to a gravel bar on the shore for the night, a strong wind suddenly came up.  It was blowing so hard that our head guide told us to put up our tents on a flat area which was sparsely covered with low willow bushes.  This was unusual, but his further instructions clarified things.  He wanted us to tie our tent guy ropes to these deeply rooted willows so that the tents would not blow away.  
It was difficult to put up our tents in the wind, but with the help of our two fast-moving grand children,  we soon had both our tents up despite the wind, and they stayed up overnight. 
This was only our second campsite on the Snake River itself, and our first introduction to weather problems.  Later that evening it rained heavily, but nevertheless all went well.  
​It was a beautiful evening.  The photo below was taken after 11 PM.