From the Mountains to the Sea: Haines Junction, Haines & Southeast Alaska

Kim Martinez
1 hour ago
14 min read

Kluane National Park – Where the Mountains Take Over

Haines Junction became our base camp for exploring Kluane National Park. Towering over everything were the formidable St. Elias Mountains. They formed what looked like an impenetrable wall of rock, snow and glaciers stretching all the way to the Gulf of Alaska.

Looking at a map later, I realized there really isn't a practical way to explore much of this wilderness from the ground. If you truly want to experience the heart of these mountains, you have to take to the air.

We quietly added another item to our ever-growing "next trip" list.

The weather that morning was typical Yukon—low clouds, drizzle and just enough mist to hide much of the scenery. We followed the shoreline of Kluane Lake for mile after mile. Knowing it was one of Canada's largest lakes, I expected to be impressed, but under a blanket of gray skies it simply looked...ordinary.

Sometimes nature makes you earn the view.

We continued west along the Alaska Highway, passing the infamous Destruction Bay before reaching one of the few construction zones of the day. There was plenty of mud and a few miles of rough road, but by now we had developed our own measuring stick.

"Not as bad as Whitehorse to Dawson."

That phrase would become a running joke for the rest of our trip and suspect - future trips!

Eventually we reached Burwash Landing where, sitting alongside the Alaska Highway, was the burned-out shell of an old RV. We never learned its story, but we didn't really need to. It was a sobering reminder that in this part of the world, help may be hours away, and a mechanical problem can become something much more serious.

From Burwash Landing it was only another 126 miles to the Alaska border and less than 100 miles farther to Tok, the gateway to Interior Alaska.

It was tempting.

Very tempting.

But somewhere along the way we had come to an important realization. Interior Alaska deserved more than a quick drive-through. It deserved a trip of its own. We weren't willing to shorten our Canadian adventure—or the Southeast Alaska portion of this expedition—just to say we'd driven a little farther.

So, with just a little regret...

...we turned around.

Soldier's Summit

Back toward Kluane Lake we went, this time with one destination in mind—Soldier's Summit.

This historic viewpoint marks the ceremonial completion of the Alaska Highway on November 20, 1942, when the two construction crews finally met. Standing there, it was hard to imagine what building this road through such unforgiving country must have been like.

The hike itself was fairly steep, but the reward was well worth the climb.

The clouds had lifted, and the Kluane Lake we had driven past only a few hours earlier had completely transformed. Shades of brilliant blue mixed with pale turquoise and sandy shorelines, all framed by distant mountains.

It was an entirely different lake.

As we reached the overlook, a couple hiking back down stopped to tell us they had spotted Dall sheep farther along the ridge.

Well...

That settled it.

We extended our hike another mile or so beyond what we'd originally planned.

The extra effort paid off.

Through our binoculars we watched a ewe carefully picking her way across cliffs that looked almost vertical, with her lambs following confidently behind. Their balance was incredible. Watching them navigate terrain that would terrify most humans reminded us just how perfectly these animals are built for this rugged landscape.

Those extra steps turned a beautiful hike into one we'll always remember.

Kathleen Lake

Kathleen Lake has a reputation for being one of the most beautiful lakes in Kluane National Park, and it certainly lived up to it.

By the time we arrived, there were only a handful of other people in the park. Even though it was the middle of July, the temperature hovered in the upper 50s. When the wind picked up, we reached for another layer and settled into the Adirondack chairs overlooking the lake.

It wasn't difficult to understand why people linger there.

The vivid blue water stretched toward a backdrop of rugged mountains, inviting you to stay a little longer.

I've noticed something about many of the lakes we've visited on this expedition.

They all make me want a canoe.

There's something about quietly paddling across perfectly clear water that seems like the best possible way to experience a place.

At least...

that was my plan.

Then the wind really arrived.

Whitecaps rolled across Kathleen Lake with surprising force, and it didn't take long for us to realize we'd probably never be able to paddle a canoe back to shore.

We quickly revised our dream - Forget the canoe – we wanted a little boat with a quiet electric motor.

But we did take a moment to enjoy the Adirondack chairs left out for us!

After leaving the lakeshore, the wind settled again as we explored some of the quieter back roads around the park. Eventually we found the Kathleen River flowing out of the lake.

The water was what I am going to start calling “impossible blue-green”.

We spent some time wandering along the riverbank, watching several anglers casting into the current. Judging by the number of fishermen we saw, it must be a productive place.

The Lakes, the rivers, the mountains the wildlife – ever changing on this trip- and the even though the beauty is almost continual – we appreciate it and don’t take it for granted – it is never “ordinary”.

**"impossible Blue-Green" Kathleen River**

The Haines Highway – One of North America's Great Drives

Wow!

There have been some unforgettable drives during our Great Northern Expedition, and the Haines Highway immediately earned a place near the top of the list.

Leaving Haines Junction, we found ourselves driving straight toward the towering St. Elias Mountains. They rose almost vertically from the valley floor, forming what looked like an impenetrable wall of rock, ice and snow.

At first, we couldn't help wondering...

"How in the world does the road get through there?"

It turns out the mountains had already decided that for us.

The highway gradually found a narrow opening between two massive peaks before beginning its climb. Every few miles another view opened up, and somehow each one seemed even more spectacular than the last.

It was impossible not to keep comparing it with some of the other incredible drives we'd already experienced.

The vast, open feeling reminded us of the Top of the World Highway.

The towering peaks and glaciers brought back memories of the Icefields Parkway.

Yet somehow...

...the Haines Highway wasn't trying to compete with either one.

It had a personality all its own.

There was something wonderfully wild about it. The scenery felt less polished, less crowded, and more like nature had simply allowed a road to pass through for a little while.

Pulling over and over and over

We found ourselves stopping often—not because there were designated viewpoints, but because almost every bend in the road made us want to pull over and simply stare. The difference between looking out of the window at the scenery and stopping often surprises me. The small details, the smells, the quiet sounds of nature often seem to “reach out” when you take a little walk at a pull out. You don’t have to go far or spend a lot of time to “Feel” the land.

That's one of the things we've learned on this expedition.

We really enjoyed the return trip a few days later when we drove the same highway back toward Haines Junction it was fun that It didn't feel like the same road at all.

The mountains revealed entirely different faces when viewed from the opposite direction. Valleys we had barely noticed on the drive south suddenly became the main attraction heading north. Even the light seemed to transform the landscape.

It reminded us that great roads aren't one-way experiences.

They're different journeys depending on which direction you're traveling.

And I have little doubt that driving this highway in the fall, when the tundra turns shades of gold and crimson, or in early spring with fresh snow clinging to the peaks, would feel like an entirely different experience once again.

If we ever – no – “When” we return to this part of Alaska...The Haines Highway will be one of our repeat drives.

Haines, Alaska – A Different Kind of Port Town

Back in Alaska!

After crossing the border once again, we passed through the Chilkat Bald Eagle Preserve before continuing toward Haines. By this point we had seen our share of beautiful scenery, but the drive into Haines hinted that this part of Alaska was going to be something different. The mountains were giving way to the sea.

Oceanside Campground RV Park

Our home for the next week was Oceanside RV Park, and we couldn't have asked for a better setting. Our campsite looked out across the water toward snow-capped mountains, and bald eagles seemed to be part of the daily scenery. It was one of those campsites where you immediately know you're going to enjoy your stay.

We got settled, hooked everything up, and, as always, set out the cat tunnels.

Life was good...

...for about five minutes.

Yap! Yap! Yap!

Our neighbors had two fluffy white Pomeranians, and through nothing more than bad luck, our front door lined up perfectly with theirs. Every time our door opened...yap, yap. Every person walking by...yap, yap. The moment one of our cats ventured into the tunnel...absolute canine chaos.

We eventually learned to wait until the dogs were inside before giving the cats a few short outings, but they were never quite as happy as they had been at some of our quieter campsites.

Needless to say, it turned into a long week for our feline traveling companions.

Exploring Haines

Haines itself was exactly what we hoped it would be.

Small.

Friendly.

Authentic.

Although cruise ships do visit, we were pleasantly surprised that Haines hadn't become the typical commercial cruise port. We saw a ship anchored offshore, but once we walked into town, you would hardly know it. There were a few nice restaurants, a handful of locally owned shops, and none of the endless rows of identical souvenir stores that seem to dominate so many cruise destinations.

It felt like a town that happened to welcome visitors rather than a town built entirely around them.

We liked that.

Battery Point – Walking Through a Rainforest

One of our favorite hikes was the trail to Battery Point.

Almost immediately we realized we were walking through a completely different kind of forest than anything we'd experienced on the trip so far.

The forests around Haines are part of the coastal temperate rainforest, and they have a feeling all their own.

Towering Sitka spruce and western hemlock formed a dense canopy overhead while thick moss covered trunks, branches and the forest floor. Despite the size of the trees, the understory felt surprisingly open, making the trail inviting and easy to explore.

What struck me most wasn't what I saw.

It was what I heard.

Or rather...

...what I didn't hear.

The moss, dense vegetation and humid air seemed to absorb every sound. Even though birds occasionally called from the trees and the breeze rustled through the canopy, the forest had an incredible stillness. It felt peaceful in a way that's difficult to describe.

Every so often the trail would emerge from the trees into colorful wildflower meadows before opening to views of the water.

We spent quite a while scanning the shoreline, hoping to spot one of the humpback whales that are often seen from Battery Point during the summer.

No whales this time.

But somehow it didn't matter.

The forest itself had already made the hike unforgettable.

Chilkoot Lake & River

One afternoon we made the short drive to Chilkoot Lake State Recreation Site, hoping to catch the beginning of the annual salmon run.

More than anything...

We were hoping for bears.

Unfortunately, we were a little too early depending on who you ask. The salmon were beginning to move upstream, but the bears hadn't yet become regular visitors. We especially loved one of the posted bear rules telling fisherman that while they need to yield to the bears and leave if one comes out to “fish” but warns them not to relinquish their catch to the bears. I can just imagine fighting with the bear over my salmon….Not!

The river didn’t have any bears however, it was anything but quiet.

Anglers lined both banks, casting into the current, while commercial fishing operations worked nearby with large nets. I couldn't help feeling a little conflicted. Watching so many salmon being harvested before they reached their spawning grounds seemed a bit unfair, especially knowing how many animals farther upstream depend on that annual run.

Nature and economics often don't always see things the same way.

One surprise helped to make up for the lack of bears.

Out on the water we spotted a huge raft of Surf Scoters, sea ducks we'd never seen before. There weren't just a few of them—there were hundreds.

For the longest time we simply stood and watched.

They paddled together.

Bobbed together.

Dove underwater together.

It was almost hypnotic.

One bird would begin to dive and, almost instantly, the rest of the flock followed in perfect sequence. It reminded me of watching a line of dominoes fall—one after another after another.

Again, we were struck by how lucky we were – timing is everything. For several days we made the drive back over the stretch of the river (hoping for bears) and never saw the Sea Scooters again.

Bald eagles, on the other hand, were almost impossible not to see around Haines.

By this point in the trip we'd seen dozens of them, yet every sighting still made us stop and look. There is something undeniably regal about a mature bald eagle perched high above the shoreline.

As much as we admired the adults, though, I found myself especially drawn to the juveniles. Their mottled brown plumage, highlighted with beautiful golden feathers, made them look completely different from the iconic white-headed adults.

They were every bit as impressive.

Fjord Express to Juneau

One thing we've learned on this trip is that not every excursion lives up to the brochure.

The Fjord Express absolutely did.

It turned out to be one of the best day trips of our entire expedition.

We boarded early that morning, leaving Haines at 8:00 a.m. for the three-hour journey across Lynn Canal to Juneau. The scenery never seemed to stop changing. Towering cliffs rose straight out of the water, countless waterfalls spilled down the mountainsides, and the deep “impossible” blue-green water stretched toward one dramatic view after another.

Sea Lions and Whales

As if the scenery wasn't enough, we were treated to sea lions hauled out on the rocks – their tale was a little sad – the captain told us they were juveniles who were waiting for their mothers who were never coming back – it was how they wean them and send them off on their own.

Most memorable were the numerous encounters with several humpback whales feeding along the way. We watched them roll and flip their powerful tales – we didn’t get any to breach but we got close enough to really appreciate the sheer size of these mammals.

That alone would have made the trip worthwhile.

Juneau - Crowds and Shopping

Eventually we rounded the last point and entered Juneau Harbor, where several enormous cruise ships were already tied up alongside the docks. It was quite a contrast to the quiet little town of Haines we had left only a few hours earlier.

Before turning us loose downtown, the tour included a short drive through Juneau and a stop overlooking the beautiful Mendenhall Glacier.

Then we joined the crowds.

Juneau was busy.

Very busy.

Thousands of cruise passengers filled the sidewalks, shops and restaurants. We wandered through town for a while, did a little shopping, and enjoyed lunch.

One of the things we have discovered is that once we weren’t “time bound” and “schedule oriented” we found ourselves enjoying “chatting it up” with people. It was amazing how many people wanted to talk and tell their stories.

We especially enjoyed meeting a few of the younger seasonal employees – we had chatted in line and then they invited us to share their table for lunch. As we talked, they described what it was like spending a summer working in Juneau—meeting people from all over the world while living in one of the most beautiful places imaginable.

This would have to impact their lives later – what an adventure for kids just out of high school!

The ride back to Haines was a little quicker, but no less enjoyable. We spotted a few more whales along the way and, just as we've noticed throughout this expedition, the return journey offered an entirely different perspective on the landscape.

Would we recommend the Fjord Express?

We give it 5 stars and would do it again as well.

Skagway, White Pass & International Falls

Ferry ride

When I first planned this expedition, I had every intention of taking our forty-four-foot motorhome on the ferry from Haines to Skagway.

Unfortunately... forty-four feet too ambitious.

The ferry simply wasn't an option for a rig our size. Most people take the ferry if they have that option because it saves about 300 extra miles driving to or from interior Alaska – I wasn’t concerned about saving the driving miles – I just didn’t want to miss the infamous scenery from Skagway to White pass.

So we loaded the Raptor instead and crossed Lynn Canal by ferry to Skagway – quick ride less than an hour. The view was impressive - as always.

Skagway

Like Juneau, the harbor was filled with cruise ships – Lots of them! Walking through town reminded me a little of Dawson City with its wooden sidewalks and goldrush era buildings

But only a little.

If Dawson felt about 75% authentic and 25% tourist, I'd probably reverse those numbers for Skagway.

Cruise ships will do that to a town.

Truthfully, though...We hadn't come for Skagway - We had come for White Pass. And it was every bit as spectacular as we'd hoped.

The highway climbed steadily through one breathtaking viewpoint after another before eventually crossing back into Canada. The mountains, waterfalls and lakes made it almost impossible to drive very far without stopping.

One thing we came to appreciate about the Yukon is how welcoming it is to travelers. Unless a sign specifically prohibited it, pulling off beside a lake for the night was often perfectly acceptable.

Camping at Tutshi Lake

That's exactly what we did at Tutshi Lake. The freedom of the pop up camper on the truck really shines when we can back in – full lake views – we brought our starlink so we had internet and best of both worlds – after dark we watched a bit of TV on the laptop and in the morning we had our coffee and breakfast beside the quiet mountain lake with the morning sun reflecting off the water.

Could life get any better at that moment?

The ferry didn’t leave until late afternoon so we had plenty of time to include a hike on the International Falls Trail.

International Falls Trail

The adventure began almost immediately.

Before we'd really started hiking, from the parking lot we climbed down using several ropes already attached to a steep cliff – then we carefully crossed a good sized, cold, creek. We took our shoes and socks off and gingerly waded across water up to our knees in places – wincing every now and then as we stepped on the wrong edge of a sharp rock.

I'll admit...I wasn't nearly as worried about getting down as I was about climbing back up later.

That sounded like a future problem.

Once beyond that first obstacle, the hike became surprisingly manageable as the trail followed a beautiful series of waterfalls. The route even crosses the international border before returning to Canada, making it one of the more unique hikes we've done.

The climb back up the ropes turned out to be much easier than I'd imagined.

The thick ropes and large knots helped considerably.

The biggest challenge?

Waiting for hikers coming down who had reached the point where they suddenly began questioning all of their life choices.