Tombstone Territorial Park protects a diverse range of flora and fauna, including around 150 species of birds.
At more than 62 miles long, Tagish Lake stretches from the Yukon into British Columbia. In summer, the lake is surrounded by dark green spruce and formidable gray peaks. In winter, the landscape is frozen as far as the eye can see, asleep under a blanket of downy white. I stand at the shore, and one of the few signs of civilization is the glow of lights from Southern Lakes Resort & Restaurant and its waterfront log cabins behind me.
Then there’s the hockey. As I watch a game on the lake’s makeshift rink, a player pauses and points. I turn to see glowing waves of green, the northern lights dancing their way across the sky. The Yukon sits directly under the auroral oval, the area surrounding Earth’s geomagnetic North Pole where this activity is best and brightest; the lights shine regularly between late August and mid-April. The locals resume their competition, but I keep my eyes upward, watching the lights swirl around the stars. It feels like a window into the cosmos, a celestial postcard delivered in real time.
At 186,272 square miles, the Yukon is almost the same size as Spain, but has just one city, three towns, four villages, and some unincorporated communities for a combined population of roughly 45,000 residents. The territory also lays claim to Canada’s tallest mountain, its second-longest river, and the largest nonpolar ice field in the world. Yet it remains mostly known for something else:
