Many decades ago, my husband and I made our first driving trip to Alaska.
The Alaska Highway carried us through the Yukon Territory and I found myself smitten by this
land that receives too little literary attention. Yes, the Yukon has much in common with Alaska.
The mighty Yukon River passes through both, the St. Elias Mountains mark the Yukon's western boundary with
Alaska, caribou herds move from the Yukon to Alaska and back again. But the Yukon is sparsely populated and
most tourists simply pass through.
Many Yukoners live in small villages or in the bush.
There aren't many roads. Boats and bush planes provide much of the transportation.
Some people still live off the land-trapping, hunting, fishing.
This struck me as a literary gold mine. In the following years we traveled to the Yukon nearly every summer.
We explored the Territory by van, by foot, by canoe, and by raft.
We lived in campgrounds, under bridges, and beside remote lakes.
We shared stories with the locals, and attended First Nation art shows, games, and celebrations.
Out of these experiences came a series of three novels: First
The Yukon Grieves for No One
and then the second To Die Alone in the Yukon
and the third and final Lady Luck Quits the Yukon.
Lynn M. Berk
4/14/2020.1