I’m on the road today, crawling my way north in a tiny, low-slung Honda Civic completely unsuitable for the trip.

First goal, reach the Stewart-Cassiar Highway in northern BC, rugged and wild. Step off the highway and you’re in one of North America’s last true wildernesses. On the map, there is a red line snaking north. And nothing else. No towns, no other roads.

Second goal, reach the end of the highway, the border, and cross into the Yukon, head north for Whitehorse.

It’s far. Our car is small. There are forest fires burning all across the north, smoke obscures the highways and closures are frequent. We could be turned back at kilometer 100 or kilometer 2500. There’s a distinct possibility we won’t make it.

And there are bears. I’m a bit worried about the bears.