Chris and I explore the streets of downtown along the river. The temperature hovers around zero degrees F. Light snow is falling and an indecisive breeze sweeps the powdery flakes by us and a moment later drops them; some cling to our jackets. White and shades of gray are all we see, nothing more – color forgot this world last November. Then we see her, a patch of blue in the fading light of this winter world. She lies beached on frozen earth ’til spring when the Yukon shall waken and its roiling waters shall beckon her captain. But for this moment, the Athabascan Adventure is all ours. Aha! Gotcha.