My back to a short, dense Sitka spruce—a lone sentinel against the driving wind accelerating up Gastineau Channel, across the Mendenhall State Wildlife Refuge—I try to blend in to the...

My boots break through the thin crust, increasing my chill rate. If I keep walking, toes will stay warm, but this is a waiting game. Iced feet are a small price. I will stand still in the center of the marsh, hopefully blending with the old stumps and logs that surround me.

The light snow we drove through in BC was behind us, and early evening sunlight lent extra mystery to the jagged landscape. I was quickly becoming entranced by Yukon.