Canada. The Yukon: it’s almost synonymous with adventure. And exploring the glaciated terrain of Kluane National Park on foot is an exercise in adventure any way you go about it. Just a few miles into our trip, the trail we’d been following quickly dispersed into a vast valley that I am certain some countries could fit into. The trail of your choosing was the only real path through the snaking mud pits of the low and glaciated brown river. The river which, I assumed in spring, covered our walkway.

But the expanse was so vast that you could see for at least ten miles ahead which made nearly every washed down stump, rock, and brown object look like a massive grizzly in the blurry waves of heat rising up from the ground. But as always, as we got closer to these elusive grizzly stumps, they deceivingly turned out to be just a washed down piece of debris from the massive glacier ahead. And gratefully, so.

A Kluane National Park Backpacking Trip

Prior to all this, at the visitor center for backcountry registration in downtown Haines Junction, a 45 minute safety briefing was had, as well as the post hike instructions to make contact upon the return to your vehicle seemed ominious; the thoughts of joy and beautiful imagery seemed like a far distant shore in this endlessly described predatory sea of a backpacking trip. The center detailed how the park held the most genetically diverse population of grizzlies in the world, complete with a live screen of tracked bears in and around the trail where our 14-mile one-way trek to the Kaskawulsh Glacier was to take place. Don’t get me wrong, the informative briefing of the hike and the professionalism of the center was there, but I was curious leaving the building how many backpackers have showed up to get their permits, and then proceeded not to hike after getting it.

We set off and were immediately greeted by the simple silence and pure awe of the park. We had to ford a river, which we found to be a surprisingly refreshing ordeal even though, at the visitor center, they made it sound like a terrifying prospect. A father and son crossed the river shortly after we did and sadly fell in and got most of their gear wet. But with Kluane being a literal alpine desert on the inland side of this giant coastal range, with the sun almost never setting, the possibility of getting their gear dried was rather high. Shortly after the first and only river crossing of the 14-mile one-way trek, we were greeted with the sight of a rabbit that had met an untimely end. The beginning of the hike was rather mellow and filled with the rhythmic noise we made to hopefully steer any carnivores away before we witnessed them.

But once we rounded the corner of this giant valley after nearly 10 monotonous miles of chasing fluvial fans from the peaks to our right, we were greeted with the view of the glacier with the magnificent glaciated peaks that rise above it. But the funniest part of the entire trek there wasn’t the fact that a single bear or print was witnessed, but upon our arrival to camp, we found over a dozen other backpackers from different corners of the globe. All I had to do was look around and realize that we were in one of the largest pieces of conserved land on the planet, deep in bear country. I had to pinch myself for freaking out from fear during the hike, as now the thoughts of a large carnivorous being were a far distant memory on this social hour of a backpacking trip.

Like at any hostel, the people you meet the night before vanish the next day, almost never to be seen again. Though we were able to say our goodbyes to some and exchange contact info, I couldn’t help but chuckle at what transpired. Never did I imagine the sociability of what had happened. But as it came time for us to leave as well, we were again alone in the giant alien world of this glaciated river valley. We woke early to get a head start, as I wanted to see what the sunrise colors would do to the valley. Beams of light shot through the peaks like a child making shadow puppets with a flashlight. And as the light began to paint the riverbed, we were greeted with our first set of fresh bear prints. Clearly made during the previous night, or shortly before our arrival. Again, that feeling of discomfort shot back through me and I obsessively scanned the horizon for those ever numerous giant brown rocks and tree stumps.

But with the rest of the five or so miles seeming to be this never ending scan of moving brown objects, we stumbled upon some more tracks and eventually made it back to the car. We threw our packs down and cheered to a safe and successful trip in a remote corner of Canada.

Need to Know

Information

The best place, as well as a mandatory visit before you hike is to stop at the visitor center in Haines Junction, Yukon. Here is where you will have to get a backcountry permit as well as a briefing and general overview of accessible trails. For more information before the trip, take a look at the Parks Canada Website. See the Hiking the Donjek (Dän Zhùr) Route article for a report on that trip / route within the park.

Best Time to Go

Summer or close to it is typically when most people plan their hikes. The average temperature in June is in the mid 50’s and in January, well, it’s in the negatives…daylight hours are almost 20 in June and four in January.

Getting There

From Whitehorse, head west on highway one to Haines Junction. Whitehorse, Yukon is the nearest international airport on the Canadian side for access to Kluane. From Haines Junction, you can travel north on Highway one to Destruction Bay, or South on highway three towards Klukshu and eventually Alaska.

Maps and Books

Kluane National Park Hiking Guide by Vivien Lougheed. Parks Canada offers a downloadable recreation map, that’s also available for purchase at the visitor center.

Editor's Note: This article by contributor Sean Jansen originally appeared in Issue 37 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.