Whitehorse

The trip from Watson Lake to Whitehorse was as uneventful as the day before was exciting. We saw one deer.  That is all.  Oh, and a ptarmigan at the side of the road.  That's it.  But that doesn't mean it wasn't an interesting drive.  Beautiful, big lakes and numerous green trees kept us interested (except for the time I took a little nap.  Oh well.)

I knew I was going to like Whitehorse because it has two Starbucks for me and two McDonalds for Babs.  What is there not to like?

As we were driving into the city, we saw the Klondike, a sternwheeler that steamed up the Yukon in the 1930s and 40s.  Then we drove around the city, scoping out places to eat.  Di has always had the philosophy that you look for the place that is crowded with locals and eat there. So we did.  The Klondike Rib and Salmon Restaurant.  It was not too impressive from the outside,

and it wasn't too impressive inside, either.  But that didn't matter.  The food was good.  Don had char, I had salmon, and Di had halibut.  I think Don won, but all were good.  The vegies were outstanding, how can you mess up garlic mashed potatoes, and the biscuits with dill were tasty, though Don and Di liked theirs better than I liked mine.

The clincher, however, was the dessert.  They had sourdough bread pudding, a brownie monstrosity, and strawberry-rhubarb pie.  The server told us they had just received a fresh batch of rhubarb, so we were in.  It arrived piping hot with a scoop of ice cream on top.  It was not long before the plate looked like this:

We could not afford to eat there every night, but it was fun eating at a popular local place.