The Tombstone Mountains and the Dempster Highway

The Tombstone Range shows up about seventy kilometres north of Dawson City on the Dempster Highway, rising out of the boreal forest with an abruptness that feels almost theatrical. One minute you’re rolling through low, spruce‑dark hills; the next, these jagged black teeth are on the horizon. The peaks — dark, angular, carved out of ancient volcanic rock that breaks into what geologists call “tombstone topography” — stand above the treeline like they belong in a wilder, steeper country than the subarctic hills around them. They’re not the highest mountains in the Yukon. They’re among the most striking. Tombstone Territorial Park, which wraps around the range and the surrounding alpine country, was established in 1998 and covers roughly 2,200 square kilometres of remarkably intact wilderness. There are no roads beyond the Dempster itself at the park’s southern edge and a short side road into the main visitor area. Everything else is on foot. That means most of the park is genuinely remote — not a casual day‑trip, not something you wander into without some planning, decent gear, and a bit of fitness. The Dempster Highway — the only public road in Canada traditionally described as crossing the Arctic Circle — starts at its junction with the Klondike Highway about forty kilometres east of Dawson City and runs 740 kilometres north to Inuvik in the Northwest Territories. It’s gravel from end to end, maintained by the Yukon and NWT governments to a standard that lets a regular passenger vehicle make the run, as long as the driver respects the road and comes prepared. ## The Highway's History The Dempster Highway carries the name of Inspector William John Duncan Dempster of the North‑West Mounted Police, a man who knew this country the hard way. He led the patrol that found the Lost Patrol — four Mounted Police officers who never finished their journey between Fort McPherson and Dawson City in the winter of 1910–11. They were caught by navigation mistakes and weather on a trail where wrong turns don’t leave much room for recovery. The Lost Patrol — Inspector Francis Fitzgerald and three constables — left Fort McPherson on the Peel River in December 1910, bound for Dawson City over the same mountain route Dempster would later travel in the opposite direction. They took a wrong trail and couldn’t work their way back to the main route. Their food ran out. The temperature fell into the kind of cold where breath freezes in your eyelashes and a mistake can be fatal. When Dempster’s search party reached them in February 1911, all four were dead. When a road was finally pushed through along that historic route — construction starting in 1959 and finishing in 1979 — it was named in Dempster’s honour. In Fort McPherson, the Lost Patrol memorial marks the graves of the four officers who died on the trail the highway now follows at a distance. ## The Tombstone Landscape The Tombstone Range is a geology lesson you can see from your windshield. The dark rock of the main peaks is a volcanic intrusive called syenite, forced deep into the earth long ago and slowly exposed as the softer surrounding material eroded away. Over millions of years, frost and water did the rest, carving the rock into the jagged spires and steep faces that define the range. In this climate, erosion doesn’t just happen — it works aggressively. Freeze‑thaw cycles pry the rock apart along its natural joints. Blocks shear off, talus piles up, and the result is that broken, angular topography that gave the range its name. On a clear evening, with low light catching the edges of those black peaks, you understand why “tombstone” stuck. Around the peaks, the alpine and subalpine country is one of the biologically richest patches in the Yukon. From the Dempster you move from valley bottoms — wet meadows, sedge flats, willow thickets — up through open shrub country to rock and lichen above the treeline. Each band of elevation has its own cast of characters. Grizzly bears work the river corridors and berry slopes. Dall sheep pick their way along the high ridges. Caribou thread through seasonally, following routes that were walked long before the first survey stakes went in for the highway. Golden eagles nest on the cliffs and can often be seen from the road, hanging in the wind over the valleys. If you catch the alpine just after snowmelt — usually early July — the wildflowers come on fast and intense. Dwarf fireweed tucks into damp hollows, mountain avens spread low white stars across gravelly flats, and arctic poppies open pale, delicate cups that look like they shouldn’t survive a stiff breeze but do just fine. The colour palette is subtle but precise. You see the best of it if you slow down, get out of the truck, and pay attention to what’s blooming at your feet. ## The Gwitchin and the Dempster The country the Dempster crosses is not empty. It is the traditional land of the Vuntut Gwitchin and the Na‑Cho Nyäk Dun — First Nations whose seasonal travel routes, hunting grounds, and gathering places in this landscape go back hundreds of generations in their oral histories. When you drive the highway, you’re crossing caribou hunting areas, berry patches, fishing camps, and travel corridors that long predate the road. The Vuntut Gwitchin Final Agreement, signed in 1993, set out protections for their traditional territory, including areas along and near the Dempster Highway. The Na‑Cho Nyäk Dun, whose territory takes in the country around Mayo and the upper Stewart River, also have deep connections and ongoing interests in much of the land the highway passes through. The highway engineers didn’t always design with those relationships in mind; local First Nations governments and communities have been working ever since to ensure the land is managed in ways that reflect their knowledge and responsibilities. ## Driving the Dempster Driving the Dempster Highway takes more preparation than most Yukon road trips. The surface is all gravel and can be hard on tires; two spares is the standard advice here, not an overcautious luxury. Fuel stops are far apart, and services can shut down without much warning, so carrying extra gas is a smart move. Farther north, the highway crosses the Peel and Mackenzie rivers by ferry in summer and by ice road in winter. Between seasons — when the ice is too thin to drive on and too thick to run ferries — the highway simply closes. Weather adds another layer. I’ve seen snow here in every month of the year, and a heavy rain can turn sections of the road slick and rutted in an afternoon. Fog settles into the valleys and erases the world beyond your headlights. Around the halfway mark you rise above treeline, and from there you’re exposed to whatever the sky decides to do — full wind, full sun, no shelter. If you’re prepared, these aren’t reasons to stay away; they’re part of what makes the Dempster the Dempster. This is a road through truly remote country, and the requirement to plan, to carry what you need, and to take the conditions seriously is part of the experience. In return you get the Tombstone Range, open tundra rolling to the horizon, wildlife living by its own schedule, and that particular feeling of travelling through a landscape with very little human pressure. As Canadian road trips go, it’s about as complete a package as you’ll find. ## The Tombstone Park Visitor Centre The Tombstone Territorial Park visitor centre, at kilometre 71.5 of the Dempster Highway, is the best single introduction to the park and the wider region. Inside, you’ll find displays on geology, ecology, wildlife, and the human history of the country the highway crosses. The interpreters know the area well and can help you match your plans to your experience, your time, and your legs — whether you’re thinking about a short stroll off the highway or a multi‑day backcountry trip. The most popular hike in the park is the Grizzly Lake Trail, which climbs to an alpine lake tucked beneath the heart of the Tombstone peaks. It gives you a real sense of moving through the zones you see on the maps in the visitor centre: starting in cool, shaded boreal forest, breaking out into subalpine shrub, and finally walking through open alpine rock and tundra with the peaks right in front of you. It’s not a casual walk — the distance, elevation, and often muddy sections mean it’s best suited to reasonably fit hikers who treat it as a full‑day effort or an overnight trip, depending on how far they plan to go. If you want to dig deeper, the [Tombstone Territorial Park Guide](/guide/tombstone-territorial-park-guide) goes into all the important details: trail options, wildlife, camping, permits, and what to expect in different seasons. The [Dempster Highway Guide](/guide/dempster-highway-guide) covers the full length of the road, with notes on services, distances, typical conditions, and the communities and landmarks along the way. The Dempster isn’t for everyone. For the people it speaks to, it’s one of the finest drives in North America.