Been there, done that

Whitehorse, Yukon, Canada
The smoke lifts a hundred and fifty kliks east of Dawson City and life seems to get good again. The scenery is Canada-to-die-for, the dogs are happier, the van scoots along. We make it to Whitehorse, the biggest town in the Yukon (over 30,000 folks), and take a brewery tour at the Yukon Brewery. We get about twenty minutes of presentation about the brewing process, but many, many chances to taste beer. Yum. We buy some beer (including a full liter of Espresso Stout that will make it all the way to Burning Man where we'll share it with a Canadian rock band) and take it out to the softball fields where we camp for the night.

We have a fight, a terrible fight where, at the end, we're arguing over who gets the plane ticket back home (of course, we have no home, that's part of the problem) and who gets stuck driving the van and the dog back to the states. Awful. Too many miles, too much closeness, not enough new music, not showering often enough, and a week of low oxygen levels (ask a Southern Californian about domestic violence levels during the Santa Anna winds). Ugh. All of a sudden we are not the married people's poster children anymore. Even now, when everything is fixed and fine, I don't really want to talk about this.

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