Yukon Journey, 45 Below
Words and music by Tom May


It’s all true; a remembrance of a concert tour I did in February, 1997.


Verse 1
It was the best of times in the coldest place that I have ever been
I met the fellow there in Stika, when I had a drink with friends
Then in Cody, Wyoming when the evening show was done
He came in and asked if I’d play a tour in the land of the midnight sun

Well, we started out in Ketchikan, got to Wrangell hours late
Petersburg and Sitka, hard against Fairweather straits
The rough-hewn streets of Juneau, then on to Skagway town
Crossed the borderline at Frasier, we were Whitehorse Yukon bound

Chorus
We crossed the Mackenzie River on an ice bridge three miles wide
Seemed like twenty minutes until we reached the other side
18 wheelers rumbling cross the highway topped with snow
It was a winter Yukon Journey, 45 below, 45 below

Verse 2
We turned left at old Fort Nelson to head up the Liard Road
200 miles of frozen dirt has seen many’s the heavy load.
Better watch for moose or caribou around every blind mans curve
Or in this rusty Plymouth Voyager we might get what we deserve

It’s been a funny crooked highway, this old performing life
Taken me to New York City, and now to Yellowknife
Where the cars plug in at night, and the evening sun don’t shine
Where the houseboats sit on 9 month ice just beyond the city line.

Chorus
We crossed the Mackenzie River on an ice bridge three miles wide
Seemed like twenty minutes until we reached the other side
18 wheelers rumbling cross the highway topped with snow
It was a winter Yukon Journey, 45 below, 45 below

Then Chetwynd, Kitimat, Dawson Creek and on to Fort St. John
Playing concert halls and Elks Clubs, in the backwoods of beyond
Stuck 2 nights where frost heaves had buckled the motel floor
Dirty white socks from a previous tenet still sit beside the door

Terrace, BC is a lovely town, an Athens of the North
Finish the show and take off late, and drive for all we’re worth
To catch the Rupert ferry, then back to Ketchikan
to wait for a late Alaska flight to right back where we began

Chorus
We crossed the Mackenzie River on an ice bridge three miles wide
Seemed like twenty minutes until we reached the other side
18 wheelers rumbling cross the highway topped with snow
It was a winter Yukon Journey, 45 below, 45 below

There are places in the this traveling life I hope never to do again
Warmer climes where the breezes are kind where I have made good friends
But I long for the sight of the northern lights where the arctic lands begin
Where the only sound is Sundown and the whine of the chilly winds.

Chorus
We crossed the Mackenzie River on an ice bridge three miles wide
Seemed like twenty minutes until we reached the other side
18 wheelers rumbling cross the highway topped with snow
It was a winter Yukon Journey, 45 below, 45 below

©2007 Blue Vignette Publishing, ASCAP