Can you tell from the signage Canadians are proud of their natural scenery? We were impressed, too!
Obligatory road sign pics: heading north on Highway 7 into the Yukon (me) and south to BC (Scotty)
After the border crossing our next destination remained uncertain, because besides knowing the general direction we wanted to head in, we hadn't made any reservations for that night or the next. But we had done enough Internet research to know there were quite a few campground options. And of course, it's a remote area where the bears probably outnumber people (I'm just guessing) and nothing to stop us from pitching the tent anywhere that looked okay (besides said bears).
We also had an important resource on our side: The Milepost (also pictured here).
Anyone who has traveled by road in Alaska or Western Canada probably owns a Milepost or has at least consulted one. In fact, a friend who reminded Scotty to buy this travel guide before we left, proudly said he had had his copy since 1976. Not typical, but then people who live up here really aren't normal in general. :)
In a nutshell, the Milepost gives mile-by-mile travel information, including camping, local attractions, restaurants, supply stops, and hotels. It also tells travelers distances, temperatures, amounts, etc. in both metric and U.S. standard units. Very helpful indeed, especially once we were on Canadian soil and all of the distances on the road signs changed to kilometers.
After our border crossing in Fraser, BC, we passed through the tiny town of Carcross, nearly deserted but for a small crowd of tourists who had taken the White Pass train from Skagway.
Carcross, Yukon
We drove onward heading north on the Klondike Highway and then turned east off the main road onto the Tagish Highway which would connect with Highway 7 leading back south to Atlin.
From the Milepost and some web searches, we knew there were several campgrounds with sites available on a first-come, first-serve basis. So we basically drove down the road until we saw the first campground. Named Snafu (an old army acronym, I now know), this place was nestled on the banks of a small lake and had some really beautiful sites that were already occupied. So we cruised several more kilometers down the road to Tarfu Campground. Both sites are government run and campers are expected to self-register and put money ($12 Canadian) in an envelope. Scotty actually had some Canadian dollars in his wallet from tips on his whale watch tours and we just used $15 since we had no change. It was a sort of funny moment- something we forgot to consider that ended up working out.
Next to the self-registration booth was a big bin with bundles of firewood and though we didn't need any at that point it was nice to see it was available.
From the Milepost and some web searches, we knew there were several campgrounds with sites available on a first-come, first-serve basis. So we basically drove down the road until we saw the first campground. Named Snafu (an old army acronym, I now know), this place was nestled on the banks of a small lake and had some really beautiful sites that were already occupied. So we cruised several more kilometers down the road to Tarfu Campground. Both sites are government run and campers are expected to self-register and put money ($12 Canadian) in an envelope. Scotty actually had some Canadian dollars in his wallet from tips on his whale watch tours and we just used $15 since we had no change. It was a sort of funny moment- something we forgot to consider that ended up working out.
Next to the self-registration booth was a big bin with bundles of firewood and though we didn't need any at that point it was nice to see it was available.
Our cute campsite at Tarfu Campground, Yukon
The view of Tarfu Lake below
Our campsite itself turned out to be perfect. We chose site #10 on a hill above Tarfu lake; as no one claimed the two sites nearby we had complete privacy. The only sounds were very faint music from a campsite down the road and the jingling of a dog's collar as it briefly appeared to check out the new neighbors.
That night we made dinner with food we brought from home, kept in a cooler and then cooked over our camp stoves (one white gas, one propane). We made a sort of Southwest omelet with eggs, cheese, seasoned beef, and tomatoes and refried beans on the side, then ate sitting by the fire.
While in the planning stages of the trip we discussed whether it might be too cold to camp and decided to either tough it out or get a hotel room as a last resort. But since I'm recently back from moonlighting as college student in New York City, this was supposed to be a budget weekend. Into the car went our down sleeping bags, fleece liners, silk liners, and the Mexican blanket. Yep, even though I live in Alaska I do not like being cold.
As the sun set over the mountains in the distance, temperatures dropped to low 40s and we donned hats and mittens. Fortunately, with down bags we were able to sleep comfortably.
The next morning we woke to sunshine streaming down and warming the walls of the tent. Though it was still cold enough to to bundle up while cooking breakfast, by the time it was done we had both removed most of our cold-weather clothing.
Scotty with his new Lodge dutch oven
Shielding our fire from the wind/ the unglamorous side of camping
We considered staying there another night, but eventually decided to go see the town of Atlin and stay in Whitehorse for a night, before heading back to Skagway. Going to Whitehorse meant the possibility of going to some hot springs there. That decision basically meant we were not going fishing, but we hadn't bought fishing licenses yet and were feeling rushed. In the end, we knew that we had planned to do a too much in a short amount of time, but 
Can't get enough of this scenery- the mountains and lakes seemed to go on forever
By 11 a.m. we departed Tarfu Campground and continued south down Highway 7 to Atlin. The views were amazingly beautiful.
The drive lasted about 45 minutes (going 60 mph) and ended where the main road stops in a "T" with several other small roads. Turning west, we entered the town.
The MV Tahrane, a historic vessel that used to take passengers along the lake in the 1920s and 30s.
At the edge of town laid Atlin Lake, and beyond it the mountains and an expansive ice field in their midst. Juneau was 90 miles southwest "as the crow flies" from where we stood. Atlin Lake is said to have some really excellent trout fishing, but with high winds that day, the water was so rough we would never had been able to safely go out in our dinghy anyway. "Now, if we had the Raa Wee [our boat]..." Scotty said.
Atlin Lake, BC
We stopped at a convenience store in search of a cup of coffee and though they had none, we bought some Canadian maple syrup to take home. After that we stopped at a café with the idea of getting lunch, but we stood there for almost ten minutes and no one spoke to us, though we did get plenty of stares from the customers. And everyone in the small place (about 20 people) seemed to still be waiting for their food, so we left and came across this little place, Casey's, down a side street.
At "Casey's" food stand in Atlin
After lunch we hit the road again, but not before stopping to take a picture of the town's welcome sign. And someone else, a man named Archie, pulled his truck over to talk to us, then gave us a postcard he'd made himself.
Postcard from Archie, Atlin resident
As it turns out, Atlin is a pretty friendly place.Next up, a stop in Whitehorse!
Heading north out of Atlin: that's 98 kilometers
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