Kluane National Park and Reserve

Listen for a moment. The wind comes down off the ice, cool and steady, and it carries the smell of spruce and wet gravel. Somewhere below, a creek runs over stones. Above you, the mountains rise in grey and white walls, and the light moves across them as clouds pass. This is the southwest corner of the Yukon, and you are standing at the edge of one of the largest protected wild areas on Earth.

Welcome to Kluane National Park and Reserve. The name comes from the Southern Tutchone language, and it is usually translated as a lake with many fish. That name points to something important. Long before this was a park, it was a homeland. The Champagne and Aishihik First Nations and the Kluane First Nation have lived, hunted and travelled across this country for thousands of years, and they still do. Today they help to manage the park together with Parks Canada.

From the highway, it is easy to think you are seeing the whole place. You are not. The front ranges in front of you are only the outer wall. Behind them lie the Saint Elias Mountains, and behind those lies a huge sea of ice. Most of the park is glaciers, snowfields and rock. Very few people ever walk into that interior. Most visitors see it only from the window of a small plane.

That icefield is the first surprise. It is often described as the largest icefield in the world outside the polar regions. Imagine ice that covers whole valleys, with only the tops of mountains breaking through. These isolated peaks have a name — nunataks, an Inuit word for summits that stand above the ice. From the air, they look like dark islands in a frozen white ocean.

And somewhere inside that ocean stands the highest mountain in Canada. Mount Logan rises far into the interior of the park, and it is the second-highest peak in North America. Its base is enormous. Some geologists say it may have the largest base of any non-volcanic mountain on the planet. You cannot see it from here. The front ranges hide it completely... which tells you how deep this wilderness really goes.

Why is there so much ice so far south of the Arctic? The answer is the ocean. The Gulf of Alaska is not far to the southwest. Wet air comes in from the Pacific, hits these high mountains, and drops its moisture as heavy snow. Year after year, the snow piles up and turns to ice. On this inland side, the air is much drier. That is why the valleys around you feel open and dusty, while the peaks stay white.

Kluane does not stand alone. It is part of a single World Heritage Site that crosses the border between Canada and the United States. Together with Wrangell-Saint Elias and Glacier Bay in Alaska, and the Tatshenshini-Alsek park in British Columbia, it forms one of the largest protected areas anywhere. Grizzly bears, wolves and caribou move across these lands without any idea that a border exists.

Now for the second surprise, and it is a recent one. For a long time, meltwater from the Kaskawulsh Glacier fed the Slims River, which flowed north into Kluane Lake. In 2016, the glacier had retreated far enough that its water changed direction. It began to flow south instead, toward the Pacific. Within days, the Slims River nearly disappeared. Scientists called it river piracy — one river capturing the water of another — and it was one of the first cases observed in modern times.

You can still see the result. Where the river once ran, there is now a wide valley of silt and gravel. On dry, windy days, dust lifts off the flats and blows across the valley in pale clouds. It is a quiet, strange landscape, and it is a clear picture of a changing climate. Nothing here is fixed. The glaciers grow, shrink and sometimes surge forward without warning.

Not all of Kluane is ice. In the green valleys and on the lower slopes, life is everywhere. Dall sheep, white and sure-footed, graze on the slopes near the southern end of Kluane Lake. Grizzly bears feed on berries and roots in late summer. Moose stand in the wetlands, and eagles circle above the rivers. If you are quiet and patient, the park often rewards you.

The modern story of the park begins in the 1940s. The Alaska Highway was built along its eastern edge during the Second World War, and the area was soon set aside as a wildlife sanctuary. Later, it became a national park. But for the First Nations, the creation of the park brought hard changes. Hunting and travel on their own land were restricted for many years. Land claim agreements later restored a role for them in caring for this country.

In the town of Haines Junction, you can learn more of this story. The cultural centre there shares Southern Tutchone history, language and traditions alongside information about the park. Take some time there before or after you head out. It changes the way you see the mountains — not only as wilderness, but as a place with names, stories and families tied to every valley.

For most visitors, the best way into Kluane is on foot, on a short trail near the highway. Paths around Kathleen Lake and up toward the Sheep Mountain area give wide views of the ranges. The weather can change quickly. A warm, bright morning can turn cold and wet by afternoon. Bring layers, carry bear spray, and make noise as you walk.

Before you leave, stand still once more. Look at the line where the green slopes meet the grey rock, and the rock meets the snow. Feel the wind coming down from the ice you cannot see. Behind those first peaks, the glaciers are still moving, slowly, as they have for thousands of years. As you walk back, listen to the creek again. That water started its journey up there, in the ice.