The Place That Must Not Be Named

Day 8: Fort Simpson, *** to Fort Nelson, BC (496km, 6023km total)

First off, can anyone guess what this is?
Yuck

If you guessed aerial view of a river delta, you’re WRONG.
If you guessed roots of a seaweed, you’re also WRONG.
This is the back window of our car, after being inundated with a day of mud in the northern land between the Yukon and Nunavut, which by mutual agreement is no longer mentioned, to avoid memories of this and what exists right after it.

As far as positives, there were a few bison.
Bison

Which was far from enough to justify traveling through this horrendous stretch of “road”, again consisting of mud and dust with trees cleared out from the path, more than what anyone “southern” would call a highway. The only human activity on this path, a settlement called Fort Liard, proved to be even more foreign and disappointing, with a palpable disdain for tourists, easily recognizable by our failure to read or speak Inuktitut.

At last, the *** set us free, reaching a rickety wooden bridge at the end of the despicable road. We were in British Columbia, and back at the edge of civilization.
Rickety bridge

And unlike the wild ugliness of the ********* **********, this place is beautiful! I only wish I had a few hours to climb around one of these instead of having to take it all in from the Alaska Highway.
Mountains

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