The following day I got my tire repaired in Watson Lake and then set out to search for some of my childhood haunts in Whitehorse. Familiar names on the highway signs warned that I was getting close: Jakes Corners, Carcross, Marsh Lake . . . . but the old neighbourhood has changed. New subdivisions line the highway beyond what used to be the paved section of the highway that signalled the beginnings of the town thirty years ago. A new road descends into the Yukon Valley east of the city. The sign talking about Jack London's career as a river pilot at Miles Canyon is no longer beside the pedestrian bridge. The traffic circle at the top of Two Mile Hill is gone as is the shanty town at the bottom of the hill.

Saving further exploration of Whitehorse for my return journey, I started up the Klondike highway. The drive took me through smoldering forest fires around Fox Lake. I could smell the smoke even before I arrived at Whitehorse. Early in the evening I encountered a cougar on the highway. I got within twenty or thirty feet before it bounded off into the charred forest. That night I camped beside the Stewart River.