Yukon Passage (1977) National Geographic documentary about four men inspired by the Gold Rush who cross the wilderness of Canada and Alaska by foot, ski, raft, and dogsled, narrated by Jimmy Stewart

I wonder what happened to each of these guys. Jimmy says they're pushing 30 in the film, so they'd all be around 70ish today. I wonder how much of an impact this trip had on them and how much they've thought back on it over their lives.

Man. I miss Nat Geo specials something fierce.

What a great watch. Just finished it.

As pointed out by QLE814, Paul Crews was ski coach for Univ of Alaska. Believe Jerry Wallace quit logging to run a civil engineering blasting company. (Try Googling Wallace Technical Blasting - pretty sure that is him in the photo on the landing page.) Bob Clark(e?) is tough - a lot of photographers with that name pop up including an erotic photographer about the right age, but from UK (lol, probably not the same guy.) I wonder if Keith Tryck is the same one who writes for the Anchorage Daily News now?

This period critique by the NYT made me laugh - sounds like the critic may have been feeling a little envious of the epic adventure?

Far more disturbing, the (Natl Geo) specials have frequently reverted to the tired old formats of a glossy travelogue or a manufactured adventure.

This season's first National Geographic production was a lamentable case in point. “Yukon Passage” featured four men—all college graduates and all pushing 30—retracing the routes taken to Marshall, Alaska, by pioneer settlers and adventurers of yore.

Bearded and dressed in fashionable outdoor togs, the men/boys were presented as independent types “who don't fit in.” James Stewart, the narrator, solemnly opened the trek with the ominous observation, “Then there were thousands, now there are four.” Meanwhile, our four heroes were being accompanied by a film crew and, it was explained quickly in passing, heavy supplies were being shipped on a narrow‐guage railroad. One of the adventurers, the perfect product of television commercials, kept brushing his teeth or washing his hair (even announcing that he used Head and Shoulders shampoo).

The boys played “king of the mountain” on their specially constructed raft, which they just about destroyed through inept navigation. They whooped it up with “dancing girls” in a replica of a “gold rush” gambling house. And one tore a leg ligament while participating in a tug‐of‐war contest with some other high‐spirited fellows. Then, at regular intervals, there would be some faddish bucolic talk about the virtues of returning to the land, of getting away “from all that traffic.” Yukon Passage, on the other hand, appeared to be less interested in geography and history than in the curious cavortings of grown men.