Flying the Yukon with Discovery Helicopters

By Eddie Ablett · Yukon, Canada · 2025

I headed up to the Yukon in June 2025 with only about 36 hours to see the place as best I could and there's no better way to do that by the air!

It took Kingsley and I 3 years to get in chopper together and somehow we ended up making it happen on the other side of the world, in one of the most isolated places you can find. The Yukon has been on my bucket list since first heading to Canada back in 2022. From the beginning, it was one of those places that kept coming up in converstation and places, as a photographer, I needed to visit — remote, wide open, and a long way from anywhere familiar. So when the chance came up to finally head north, it felt like ticking off something I’d been quietly thinking about for a while.

I headed up to the Yukon in June 2025 with only about 36 hours to see the place as best I could and for me there's no better way to do that by the air! Flying in from Calgary to Whitehorse on a Air North, which is the main way into this part of the world. From there, got picked up and made the drive to Atlin.

Atlin, a small, quiet town sitting on the edge of Atlin Lake and surrounded by mountains. Atlin feels removed from time in the best way. It’s simple, still, and sits right at the meeting point of water, forest, and open country. From the air, the lake and surrounding ranges give you a clear sense of how untouched the area is. It’s the kind of place that immediately makes you slow down.

Heading into the sky we quickly took the Heilcopter to a 'Beach' on the lake, landed and captured some pretty unique shots. One of the most memorable moments of the trip was watching the midnight sunset. Standing on a ridgeline late at night, the sun sat low on the horizon and never fully disappeared. The light stayed consistent, and the usual sense of day and night blurred together. There was no rush to pack up or move on, just time to stand there and watch it happen.

There was no brief for this trip and no objective beyond enjoyment. I filmed what felt right in the moment, without thinking too far ahead about where it might end up. It was a reminder of how valuable it is to create without pressure and to let the environment lead the story rather than forcing one onto it.

Trips like this matter because they reset perspective. They create space to observe, reflect, and reconnect with why storytelling matters in the first place. The Yukon doesn’t need much interpretation. It already carries its own story.

Flying through the Yukon with Discovery Helicopters was an experience built around curiosity rather than expectation. I came away with footage I’m proud of, but more importantly, with a renewed appreciation for slowing down and being present in places that still feel largely untouched.