Atlin Lake is the source water for the upper Yukon River. It’s also the biggest lake in British Columbia. This fact slapped me to attention in 10 pm twilight as I stumbled in my small speeding boat, in the middle of the lake. Had I fallen out just then, I’d have certainly frozen to death in that big beautiful body of water while my boat hummed away into the distance. I managed to stay in the boat, and arrived in the picture-perfect town of Atlin around midnight.

The Atlin River was purported to have class III rapids. So I pulled the motor, rigged it on the back seat, and rowed. Turns out, the Atlin River is mild class II. It was a gorgeous clear and cold mountain stream, connecting Atlin Lake to Graham Inlet, an arm of Tagish Lake.

At the start of June, the lakes were still low, providing ample beach camps if they were unoccupied. My first campsite choice held an agitated moose, the second—fresh grizzly tracks. Eventually, I found a sheltered bay adjacent to an unoccupied family campsite complete with a fire pit and grill and plywood shelter, and even some plaques on trees remembering mom and dad.

Atlin Lake, Tagish Lake, Marsh Lake, they were all lovely. But when the Yukon finally narrowed into a moving, living river, I suddenly felt at home, sweeping around bends and wheeling into eddies. Lakes are fine, but I’m a river person.

Scott, the man behind Whitehorse’s Kanoe People, met me to assist with my portage around Whitehorse Dam. Below here, the Yukon is the river we know; of vast northern spaces and Klondike lore, Jack London’s dog Buck and Robert Service’s cremated Sam Mcgee.