Drury Creek Campground, Little Salmon Lake, Yukon Territory
8/21/01

It's nearly 7 PM Pacific Time, and the sun is still high above the horizon. I'd been wondering when the days would finally get longer. Tonight I may see my first midnight sunset since my last visit to the Yukon. I'm also hoping that I get to see the Northern Lights.

Today, driving along the Robert Campbell Highway, I saw the first aspen leaves turning. When I start south again, I'll be chasing the Fall season all the way home. My favorite part is the very beginning, when the green leaves turn that glowing, brilliant orange-yellow color.

The Robert Campbell Highway is appealing for the lack of traffic, at least at this time of year. But most of the road is very narrow, and not being paved, the sides slope downward, there is no shoulder, only sheer cliffs in most places. When the road is ridged like a washboard, or slick with mud, the truck starts to slide off toward one of the cliffs. At one point, going up a hill, two semi-trucks, one immediately behind the other, hurdled down toward me, kicking up dust so dense I couldn't see beyond a few feet ahead. I pulled over and waited for them to pass, which they did, only a foot or so from my door. I'm not sure exactly how close they were because I closed my eyes.

Later, I stopped in Ross River for fuel. I was down to a quarter tank and wouldn't make it to the end of the highway, even with the 5-gallon gas can I carry. After I made the turn to town, I caught up with two RVs, followed them right into a Shell station. As there was only one pump and they had parked on either side of it, I waited in line. Several men of different ages got out of the RVs and I could tell right away that they were traveling together. Judging by their clothes and gestures, I guessed them to be German. A few pointed at me and spoke rapidly to one another. I assumed that they were noticing I was a woman traveling alone from a great distance. I ignored them and studied my Milepost guide to figure out where I wanted to stop for the night.

When I looked up, one of the RVs was pulling away and the youngest man of the group, probably in his early thirties, gestured for me to pull up to the pump. But it was on the wrong side for me, so I passed it and turned around before coming back. All the while the men were still staring at me. After putting the fuel nozzle into the Pathfinder, I turned the lever on the pump but the last sale didn't zero out. I glanced at the building but saw no one through the window. I heard mumbling in German. Looking over at them I met their stares.

"It does not seem to work," said the youngest man with a heavy, German accent.

I looked at him, then at the next man and the next. "Doesn't work?" I almost shrieked. I wanted to say, "Why the hell did you make me pull in here for?" Instead, I said, "And you guys are just standing around? Didn't you find out?"

As I marched around to the back of the building, the men tentatively followed for a few steps. The wives watched from inside the RVs.

The Shell station was abandoned. But I desperately needed gasoline. I went around to the front. Through the plate glass windows, I could see a dusty mess of abandoned trash. The front door was bolted shut.

I peered across the road and tried to see through an alley a block away. Returning to the vehicles I said to the youngest, "I think I see some pumps over there." I pointed to a parking lot in the distance. "I'm gonna find out."

He nodded. "Pumps," he said.

"Yeah." How in the world were you able to find this place coming all the way from Germany? I wondered. I put the fuel hose back in its cradle and pulled out of the dead gas station.

My eyes had not deceived me. There was a choice of Regular gas only at the local hardware-hunting goods-general foods store. And boy was it expensive.

"Are you the only gas station in town?" I asked the woman behind the counter. She was in her late forties, wore glasses and had that Mom Next Door look.

She nodded yes. "Both the Shell station and the Dene station shut down. We've had to expand our hours, it's kept us so steady."

"Well, I'm sure glad you're here," I said. "I was down to only a quarter tank. I'd of been in trouble otherwise."

"Lotta folks would be." She leaned closer, "Don't know what would happen if they couldn't get gas."

Outside, as the fuel filled my tank and emptied my credit card, I saw the two RVs coming from down the alley. I threw them a "come on over" wave.

They pulled up behind me and I made eye contact with one of the wives through the window. She nodded approvingly and I grinned back. Yep, sometimes it just takes a woman to get things done.