A few years ago, my partner and I bought land at Lake Laberge
Since there are no longer white horses in Whitehorse, the question has to be asked: Are there fossils at Fossil Point Road?
A few years ago, my partner and I bought land at Lake Laberge. Some people cement their relationship with a marriage; others adopt a puppy. We acquired forested land on the shore of the third-largest lake in the Yukon. To get more familiar with the property, I organized a weekend campout.
To access the property, one has to drive on Fossil Point Road, a narrow, sturdy gravel road, past Lake Laberge Campground in the Deep Creek subdivision. Since there are no longer white horses in Whitehorse, the question has to be asked: Are there fossils at Fossil Point Road?
In my invitation email to the campout, I enticed friends to join me, with promises of trail biking, free-store shopping at the local dump and, as the cherry on top, fossil hunting.
The first night, we gather around a beach campfire, catching up on one another’s life. The lake is dead quiet and offers us beautiful vistas—so much so that my friend P set up his tent right on the shore. I mention the fossils again and reiterate my ambition to find one, suggesting a few sites to investigate.
The following day, we pair shopping with biking. From Fossil Point Road, we come across ATV trails that perhaps, we think, might lead to the west, towards the Deep Creek dump. With a mixture of luck and trail-orientation skills, we cycle on to find ourselves at the gate of the dump. There we marvel at the well-organized site and look for goodies at the free store. My friend N scores a few things that she stores in her small backpack. She is running out of space for a car-seat cushion that would make long drives more comfortable for her petite frame. “We could strap it to my bicycle rack ?” I offer, and a bungee cord miraculously appears from our friend B’s hand.
On our cycle back to the property, B and I come across a family in their Toyota Yaris. In pure conjuncture, they, too, are looking for fossils. “I came there as a kid and remember seeing one … a nice fossil on the rock face,” says the young father. “But I could not find it today.” (Two little girls are busting in the back of the Yaris. Unfazed at the lack of rock imprints, they hand out freshly-picked wildflowers to my friend B.)
At the beach, the weather is turning and we are soon thinking rain jackets and wool sweaters.
I sense it might be the right moment to investigate the fossil matter while we might be grounded and under fresh intel. There are many rock faces around; in fact, a large part of the shoreline seems like one long rock face. We start higher up, walking along a ridge. Soon enough a “Private Property” sign appears and, for a brief moment, we consider ignoring it. We keep looking on the rock bluff but, resigned, we turn around. Later, going back down along the beach, we look at other faces. Niet.
I dread that we may never find the fossil. There are too many rock faces and blurred childhood memories.
The last night comes and our friend T arrives for happy hour. I know he has spent time around here as a kid, just like the Yaris man. “Does that make any sense to you … that whole fossil affair?” I ask. He says yes—that he, too, remembers seeing them but says, “I wouldn’t know where to look right now.”
With the wind picking up, the lake is not as calm and we wonder if this could turn into a miserable camp. Fortunately, suppertime comes and the lake settles. Once again we are rewarded with another night of gorgeous scenes and vistas at Lake Laberge.
The next morning, before heading back to town, N, B and T venture for a paddle on the lake while I stay on shore, watching them, the little dots above the water—now my friends. I contemplate the lake and still think about those damned fossils. I would like us to go out one more time to look for them.
Behind me, I hear steps on the pebble beach. A woman and man in their seventies soon emerge. We greet each other and start chit-chatting. They are neighbours, full-time residents, and have come to see what is up on the lake.
More importantly for me, they must be “plugged-in.”
“Do you know where the fossils are around here?” I query, boldly. They do and they point at yet another rockface. Later, we will all go check it out and find a fossil. So, as they say, there are fossils at Fossil Point Road.
