Wild Places and Open Spaces

August 15th – 19th 2006

The Chilkoot Trail is perhaps Alaska’s and the Yukon’s most infamous trail. It also happens to be one of its most historic. The route follows an old Indian route (Tlingit tribe) that goldseekers struggled over to get from Dyea, Alaska to Bennett, British Columbia. If you have not heard of the trail, you most likely have at least seen a picture depicting part of it – a line of men walking a steep, snow covered hill with backpacks on their backs. It is a very famous photograph taken during the goldrush of 1898. See the following link Click Here for Chilkoot Trail Information.

The trail is a popular one – they limit the numbers of people that go over “the pass” (the difficult section of the trail which includes the border crossing from US to Canada) on a daily basis. However, we were soon to find out that they don’t limit it enough…..
We purchased our permits at the National Park Office from a pair of very nice rangers. We gave our itinerary of the camps we would stay at along the way, and the rangers went over bear safety and trail etiquette with us. The trail is one way – and we had to find a way back to our car when we were finished it. We decided to splurge and take the White Pass/Yukon Route train back to Skagway. This train only picks up backpackers on Saturdays, Sundays and Mondays, with the steam engine train only running Saturdays. We decided, “go big or go home” and opted for the steam train on Saturday. Click Here for White Pass/Yukon Route train information. This meant that we had to be finished the trail and at the train station at 1pm Saturday. We started the trail on a Tuesday, it should be no problem getting there on time. So, in total, it cost us a whopping $310.00 for our Chilkoot experience ($10 each for transport from our car at the train station to the trailhead, $55 each to hike, $90 each to ride the train) – but well worth it in the end.
We packed our backpacks, parked our car at the train station and waited for “Dyea Dave” to pick us up to transport us to the trailhead. Dave runs a “tourist” van around Skagway and Dyea, and picks up hikers as part of his business. As he loaded our packs onto the van both Jim and I noticed the enormous hands and feet on him….he has size 18 shoes! Really nice guy, who knows a lot about the area, so we were entertained on our way to the trailhead.

We were on the trail by 10am. The skies didn’t look good, but they managed to hold out this day. The first day we did about 7.5miles, only the first 1/2 mile and last 2 miles were up and down, so it was an easy day. We stayed at a camp called Canyon City, and were really upset when we came upon the camp – there were already lots of tents there, and we knew a group of 14 were on their way…..at the end of the day there were 40+ people there, and one outhouse. It was ridiculous how many people were using such a small space – we had been warned by the rangers about how “odiferous” the outhouse was, and they were not kidding.

Next AM we waited til most people were on their way before we packed out. It would be a short hike to Sheep camp, only 4.3 miles, but rugged. Again, the rain held off for the hike, but we got poured on shortly after we arrived, and it didn’t let up all night. Sheep Camp is the “base camp” for the famous scales and golden stairs hike which takes you over the Chilkoot Pass into Canada. This camp is set up better for the amount of people that were there – 2 cooking shelters and 4 outhouses, but it was still packed. 43 wet, stinky people trying to pack into 2 shelters is not a pretty sight. At 7pm Jeremy, a US ranger, gave us a “de-briefing” about bear safety and our hike the next day. The hike up the pass is known to be quite difficult and strenuous. Some people apparently take over 12 hours to do it. Our weather forcast he told us was not good – we would have little to no visibility, rain and cold. Unfortunate, but such is life sometimes. He told us we should all be on the trail by 6am, so everyone was in their tents by 10:30pm.

Jim and I were pretty anxious about the hike – disappointed that we wouldn’t be able to see any artifacts along the way (much less the trail in some parts), but scared/excited all wrapped into one. How hard would it be?
Our anxiousness led to a poor sleep. We had a quick breakfast in the AM, and were on the trail by 7am (an hour late, but so were most people). It was raining off and on, and our backpacks seemed twice as heavy since a lot of stuff was wet. The first few miles were up and down through rocky trails and we had to cross quite a few streams. At first we tried to keep our boots dry, but after a while we couldn’t help but getting our feet soaked. By the time we reached “the scales” (where they used to weigh the stampeders gear) it was raining constantly. From the scales, through the “golden stairs” to the pass, it is basically boulder climbing with the last portion being a very steep ascent. It was a really fun climb, and despite the weather conditions it was not as hard as we anticipated, but tiring. At the top of the pass is a Canadian warden station where we were served hot lemonade and took a 15 minute break. Then we set out again, through snow, rocks, tundra, creeks to get to the next camp: Happy Camp. We were soaked when we arrived at the camp, and our packs seemed to weigh triple what they did initially. We unfortunately did not own a waterproof backpack cover so our packs acted like cisterns collecting the rain water. Instead, we looked like “red neck” backpackers….had garbage bags around all our stuff inside and outside our packs, which sort of kept stuff semi-dry. See, we are used to just “sitting tight” if the weather gets rough…waiting it out for a couple of days before moving on. However, here we didn’t have a choice. Note to self: buy waterproof backpack covers for next trip!! We were just too darn cheap to do it before.

Anyways, we got to Happy Camp and found the shelter was packed and we didn’t really want to stay with all the people in such a cramped area. So, we had something to eat and decided to move on to the next camp 2 miles away. We both felt okay, that is until I started hiking again. My right knee had really started to bother me (it gets sore from the constant impact of going downhill) and Jim had to act as my coach the entire 2 miles, encouraging me the whole way. He felt great, and probably could have hiked the entire rest of the trail! We actually saw some blue sky on the way, and were able to appreciate the beauty of the tundra and all of the emerald coloured lakes on the Canadian side. So, we arrived at Deep Lake Camp to find that the only people there were Robert and his son Morgan – a terrific relief from the crowds at Happy Camp! I hobbled in and Robert greeted us with a shot of Grand Marnier. We set up our wet camp – I was starting to get concerned that I was going to become hypothermic – and we had dinner. Later, a couple of funny girls – Jessica and Jessica – showed up, and it ended up being only the 6 of us at camp. Nice.

Next am we were due to hike to Bare Loon Lake, but we planned instead to hike the entire way out if we felt good enough. Robert and Morgan were going to do this, and we knew another couple, Julia and Bruce were due to do the same thing. This would avoid the large groups of people again, because most were due to camp at Bare Loon. We headed out on our 10mile hike into what turned into a beautiful, sunny day. My knee didn’t hurt half as much, and we made it to the end of the trail, Bennett Lake, by 4pm. We were thrilled to find Robert and Morgan there, at a campsite far away from any people and set up camp with them. It was sunny, with a nice breeze and we were able to dry out all of our gear. It was a great feeling that we were finished – we could just relax the rest of the night and next morning and catch the train in the afternoon.

The Chilkoot Trail is a humbling experience – the goldseekers in 1898 had to do the trek up the pass 40+ times to get their ‘ton of goods’ – the RCMP insisted they have – over the pass before they entered the country. (Not to mention hardly any of the goldseekers ever actually found gold!)The Tlingit indians did the trek often on a daily basis for survival. We saw a lot of ‘artifacts’ on the first couple of days and the last day, however, we missed any artifacts the day we did the pass because of the weather. Unfortunately as well, we don’t have many pictures from that day as our cameras would have been soaked. It would be nice to do the hike again if we could be guarranteed good weather – we would have spent much more time on the pass looking around and enjoying the views, however, it sounds like nice days up there are few and far between. The hike is definitely worth doing, if anyone is interested. As long as you are in half decent shape, it is do-able. The elevation gain is from sea level to ~3700ft, with ~2700ft gain on the day you go over the pass. The scenery is fantastic, and the history even better. The artifacts that we saw were really cool, although in places the running joke was “how long does something have to be around before it is not garbage and becomes an artifact?” Along the trail near and at Bennett lake has a lot of cans and bottles strewn around, that if one didn’t know better just look like garbage. We were on the trail from Tuesday to Saturday, but finished the hike on Friday – you can be on the trail as long as you want as long as you go over the pass on the day you are assigned. It could be done in less days – depending on the amount of hiking one wants to do and the weather is always a determining factor as well. Keep in mind that it is a very busy trail – the campsites are bound to be packed unless you do more hiking to get away from the majorities.

Robert, Morgan, Julia, Bruce and us had some great laughs over dinner – it’s always funny how “like” people always end up weeding each other out in a crowd – and we were happy for their great company.
Next AM we again enjoyed some good times with our new friends over breakfast, and then packed up to catch the train. The backpackers are all put on 2 separate cars from the tourists – we think it is because we smell so badly from being in the bush for a few days! The train ride was incredible – went by some of the old White Pass trail which was an ‘alternate’ to the Chilkoot trail – with lots of scenic views and good company. A very funny thing happened while on the train – the conductor came over the loudspeaker and said if anyone wanted to take a picture of the train on a ‘drive by’ we could….they actually stopped the train, people got off, the train backed up and then proceeded to move again forward towards us for picture taking opportunities! One of the fellows working on the train said, “quiet on the set” and we all had to be silent as people were videotaping the train coming at us and they wanted all the sounds of the steam engine on their tapes. It was pretty bizzare, however, I have to admit the sound of a steam engine is like nothing else….chugging along with its whistle going is a wonderful noise that makes one think of how it may have been like in the old days!
Julia and Bruce were kind enough to ask us what we were doing for dinner, so after we got off the train we all went out to a local restaurant – Julia, Bruce and I had veggie burgers….Jim had a double cheesburger. We found out that they are from Alberta, are avid hikers and have done many trips elsewhere in the world. They also have a similar story to ours….they met when Julia was a summer student at Bruce’s work, Julia is my age, Bruce is Jim’s age, etc etc. Bruce is a pilot as a hobby, and for part of their trip they rented a plane and were flying place to place. Pretty neat.

We said our goodbyes after a great visit, and headed out. It was our last day in Alaska, and we were officially heading home now with our next stop at Erik’s house in Fort St. John BC.

Click Here for Pictures

August 7th – 13th 2006

After Erik left, we decided to once again travel the Dempster Highway – for the great views, but mostly for the good fishing. It took us a few days to make our way back there, and we had some really bad weather on the way which made driving difficult. Hard rain and dirt/gravel roads don’t mix well. It actually hailed on the Top of the World Highway too on August 7th! Crazy!
When we did make it to the Dempster Highway, we stopped for lunch at Tombstone campground. Turned out to be good timing, because as soon as we turned in, the skies let loose and there was a torrential downpour and more hail. You never know what
weather you’ll get in mid-summer in these parts!

Once the rain stopped, we had a couple really nice days fishing. Jim taught me how to fly fish, which I can honestly see turning into a passion. It is so much fun, and was exhilirating catching grayling on the fly. Only caught the fly in trees/bushes a few times!! Jim was in his glory fishing the Blackstone and Ogilvie rivers which appear to be full of grayling. He also managed to hook himself pretty good a couple of times – luckily just in his clothes, not in skin. However, at least once a week I have to get out the first aid kit and fix him up somehow…usually it is for a sliver or blister or scrape from falling off something. He keeps on trucking though, no problem.

We met a terrific, funny Australian fellow named Luke who is doing an around the world tour – he had rented a bike and was biking up to Inuvik on the Dempster Highway. He lives just outside Sydney, and we are planning to meet up with him when we get to Australia. Our conversation with him quickly lead to deadly animals in Australia, but I think he is more freaked out about getting eaten by a grizzly or black bear in Canada than anything in Australia!

Our last day up the highway we hiked straight up a mountain….and I mean straight up it. There was no switchbacks like we are used to, and the “trail” was loose rocks. I bailed out 3/4 way up the hill because I was afraid of slipping on the rock and hurting an ankle (which I am known to do), but Jim went all the way (he is a trooper). On the way down he found the “proper” trail – a nice easy goat trail along grass that had no loose rocks on it at all….we had just taken a wrong turn earlier. Usually it is me that makes the wrong turns, but this time, Jim was leading the way!

So, our second Dempster trip was much more successful…no flat tires (probably because we had brought a full spare this time!). We only went 230km up the highway…no need to go to the Arctic Circle since we had already been there in Alaska.
Our next “must do” was to head back to Skagway, Alaska to do the Chilkoot trail. This meant travelling through Whitehorse again to get there. On the way there we saw a large herd of Elk – the Braeburn herd – who posed for some pics. Upon arriving at Whitehorse, we were thrilled to find that the King Salmon had just got there – they travel over 3000 kilometeres from the Bering Sea to the Yukon River each year to spawn. At the fish ladder in Whitehorse they count each one of them through it – numbers apparently didn’t look as good as last year, but it was only the first few days of the run. They are beautiful fish – bright pink and full of life. It is unbelievable that they do not eat the entire time they are running – that means months without food!

While in Whitehorse we did a couple “normal” things (sometimes when you are camping for so long you have to do things that bring you back to “reality”) – we saw a movie and had a Tim Horton’s Coffee (by the way, a large Timmy’s is quite a bit more expensive here than at home!). We saw the movie “Barnyard” – we couldn’t get past the fact that the male cows in the movie have large protruding UDDERS…..it is an “udderly ridiculous” movie with no morals, and we will never see another Nickelodeon movie ever again!

Crossing the border into Skagway was a breeze this time – we had the nicest border guy EVER. He was an older gentleman who thanked us for getting passports (because it makes his job easier), showed us how he scanned the passports into his computer, stamped them, told Jim he had a “good looking” wife, and sent us on our way! No questions asked! And this time, we had NO fruit or veggies at all! Murphy’s law I suppose.

Now that we had arrived back in Skagway, we had to prepare to do the Chilkoot Trail!

July 12th we headed up the Dempster Highway. We got as far as Tombstone Park, where we decided to camp for the night. No sooner did we get the tent up, did we have yet another torrential downpour – luckily this camp also had a terrific shelter where they asked people to cook in instead of at their campsites due to an increased # of bears in the area. The rangers called off the nightly walk they do (due to the lightning) so instead they showed a really good bear movie in the cook shelter. It discussed bear behaviour – aggressive vs defensive bear attacks and how to act accordingly. It was info we pretty much knew, but it did go into good detail. What it pretty much boils down to though, is once the bear comes at you, it doesn’t look good!! Bears can count too…less people in your group, the more potential that you will become lunch! I’m sure Jim and I have looked appetizing a couple of times, but so far, so good. We haven’t had to use our bear spray yet.

Jim had been talking with one of the rangers regarding the fishing up along the dempster road. No one had been catching any grayling. Many people had seen them, but were unable to catch ’em. Jim was discouraged, but the next morning we headed out anyways – he was determined, not to mention we had to get to the Arctic Circle!

First stream we saw we stopped at. Jim cast his spinner and caught a grayling right off the bat! So much for what other people had said. Next stream he again caught one on the fly. We also got to see a beautiful young bull moose just downstream of us. It seemed just as interested in us as we were in him. He stood there for ~15min or so, watching, as we watched him. He was tall and lanky, but will undoubtedly become a huge bull. So, we drove and fished, drove and fished for a couple of hours.

At one pullout we stopped at to read an interpretive sign, we heard our names being called – it was Jim and Bernie – a retired couple from Whitney Ontario that we have run into numerous times (while in Yukon area – there are not many roads) on our travels. They were beginning to feel like family, and in retrospect we really miss seeing them now that they have gone home. They invited us into their trailer for a wonderful coffee. Once done, we parted ways again, expecting to see them at the Arctic Circle.

The gravel road had been really good. Easy going and we were happy. That is, up until I heard the dreaded “hissssssss”. Jim had just stopped the car and was fishing just beside the road. I got out to relieve my bladder, and as I did, I realized the hiss was none other than a tire – quickly releasing air on its way to becoming flat. I called to Jim, who was pretty perturbed because I had interrupted a grayling chasing his line, to inform him of our predicament. We had just reached the beautiful tundra and Blackstone river area, but we knew we had to turn back – there would be no one to help us further up towards the Arctic Circle. So, we drove as far as we could on the tire that was hissing, then stopped to put the “donut” on. Unfortunately, this is when the clouds decided to “let go” again, and we got a tad wet once again. Now we had 130km to drive back on with our donut – all gravel. Not a good situation, but we went really slowly. Getting the flat actually worked in our benefit we decided, because on the way back to the campground (since we had to drive so slowly), we saw a ton of wildlife. Bears, moose, red foxes at their den, birds, and a young pipit. The pipit would not move from the middle of the road – it let me pick it up, check it out and put it off the road. It stood there for a couple of minutes, then flew away as if nothing happened. Strange!

Got to the campground where no one could help us with the tire, so we decided to spend the night and drive the rest of the way back to Dawson City in the AM. In the meantime, we joined the ranger’s nature walk and learned a couple new flowers along the way.

In the AM, we made it to a gas station just outside Dawson that had a “make shift” garage attached to it. Jim went in and explained our tire situation – a friendly gentleman said he’d help us out as soon as he finished his breakfast. (everything is on “Yukon time” here) He gave us the option of plugging the tire for $10 or patching it for $20. We opted for the plug, as that is what we are used to doing (neither of us had heard of the patch thing), and prepared to pay the cheaper $10. However, the friendly man came out of the garage after ~5min of fiddling with our tire, and said he couldn’t plug it – he’d have to patch it. We were pretty surprised, since it seemed like a really clean puncture (we had even circled it on the tire to make it easy for him) but we had no choice but to trust him. So, 10 minutes and 20 bucks later, we were on the road again.

Next stop – Dawson City. Our first impression of the place was great; a quaint place with lots of historical (authentic) looking places that hadn’t succumbed to tourists. It was a place Jim had always dreamed to be because of the goldrush adventures of the past. The town lived up to it’s impressions…we loved it.

First things first though. We immediately found a guy to repair the crack in the windshield before it spread. Oh yeah, didn’t I mention that? A seemingly small stone was tossed up at our car windshield on the way to Dawson City and it cracked the windshield smack dab right in the drivers view. Up until this time we thought our windshield was made of bullet proof glass due to the number of boulders that had knocked up against it, but guess not. Anyways, we found a nice guy, who was a Jack of all trades it seemed….unfortunately repairing windshields did not appear to be one of those trades. He meant well, got $40.00 out of us, but our windshield is far from perfect. When the sunlight shines just right, the reflection from the crack is blinding to the driver. (however, sunshine is few and far between these days! more about that later…) Oh well, here’s hoping it doesn’t spread til we get home.

The government campground we intended on camping at was on the Yukon River, on the other side of Dawson. In order to get to it we had to take a little ferry across the river which runs 24hrs a day and is considered part of the highway service, so it is free. In the winter, there is an ice bridge there so people can drive across the river. However, for 6 weeks in the spring and 6 weeks in the fall – melt and freeze up – the river is inaccessible. Therefore, the people that live across the river or along the river are somewhat stranded. The ferry itself is more like a tiny barge that can carry about 8-12 vehicles across at a time. It appears to be somewhat difficult to drive because the river is flowing so quickly and the boat never really stops at the landing where you drive off – it just runs into it and keeps running into it to stay there.

After setting up, we made our way back across the river to explore Dawson. We toured the S.S. Keno – a paddlewheeler that in its day would be a joy to the residents of Dawson because it would be the first boat up the river in the spring to bring them supplies. The rest of the season she shipped silver ore and gold, then early fall she’d be the last boat out of Dawson for the long winter.

Had dinner out – what a treat! Jim ordered a roast beef sandwich and I ordered a “special” salad…my salad tasted good, but only took up about a sixth of my plate and I would have needed 6 more to feel full – oh well, such is life when you try to order out on a budget.

At night we went to Diamond Tooth Gerties for some typical Frontier entertainment: can can girls, gambling and booze. Ran into Mike – our pizza/former Mayor/museum curator acquaintance – again here. Was nice to see him again – familiar faces are extra special when one is traveling. Last show was at 12:00am and much to Jim’s delight each show the girls had become more scantily dressed! Afterwards we headed across the river to camp – it’s great here because it doesn’t matter what time one rolls home at….it’s always light out!

Next day we toured the Dawson City Museum where we watched a film on Dawson City’s history that was narrated by Pierre Burton. Pierre Burton lived in Dawson with his family until he was 15yrs old. Their house is small and cute, although it cannot be toured as it is a private residence. Jim has read practically all of Burton’s books, but embarrassingly I have read none. Now that I have so much history behind me of the goldrush and the area, I’ll have to get myself reading because I have no excuse not to read books from such an exceptional writer/Canadian.

We drove up the famous Bonanza Creek Road – leading to the very spot (or so we thought) where Carmacks and Skookum Jim, on poor Henderson’s advice, struck gold and started the Klondike Gold Rush in 1896. Unfortunately, there was not much of a memorial there (a little plaque somewhat near the creek), and in fact we aren’t really even sure exactly where they actually struck gold. Typical…another major historical spot that is not respected by our government; here a major event in Canadian history (it’s even in recent history) is hardly even observed. No statue, no interpretive boards, no arrow pointing to where they struck it rich. There were even what appeared to be artefacts around the area – which may or may not be there on purpose – that were not labelled or taken care of. In fact the most notable part of the ‘heritage site’ is a filthy stinking outhouse and overflowing garbage cans! We hoped nobody would bother driving the extra couple kilometers to visit the dirty little Canadian embarrassment. (In America, all Lewis and Clark had to do was step foot on soil and any State/place in which they did is now a national monument with proud bells and whistles everywhere).

The next tour was of a restored dredge – Dredge #4. Dredging was the “new way” of mining for placer gold after the goldrush; basically a large backhoe at one end and a huge sluice box at the other. It was much more efficient at finding large quantities of gold, not to mention completely changing the landscape around it. A total environmental disaster. (By the way, dredging does still take place in many places around the world). Very interesting, and worthwhile restoring, but we were left wondering why so much money was spent on this when it would have only taken a few dollars to give the Bonanza Creek site (which actually was the spark that ignited the eventual dredging) the significance it deserves?

Next stop – the Dempster Highway. We decided to drive up the highway that afternoon. The Dempster is a dirt/gravel road for nearly 800km to Inuvik. At ~400km, it crosses the Arctic Circle. For about a month we had been hemming and hawing whether we should drive it in our little Saturn Ion, which by now we had been treating like it was a 4×4 Pathfinder. It’s hard not to when driving places we’d been. We had heard various reports/warnings about the road from “it will be absolutely no problem in a car”, to, “it’s practically impassable and if attempted be sure to have at least 2 spare tires”. We decided to take our chances with the former advice…we had our donut just in case. Jim was dying to fish the waters along it and get to the Arctic watershed, not to mention seeing the wildlife the area boasted. We couldn’t pass up the chance…it’s all about the adventure, right?

Keno City appealed to us even before we got there – had a dirt road to it, less than 15 inhabitants and supposedly unique flora and fauna. It proved to be all of these things and many more.

The road was paved up until Mayo – a small town that we spent, oh, about 5 minutes in – and we quickly departed from it to the gravel road for ~ 50km.

Keno City is not your typical “city”. The fact that the word “city” is in the name is a distant reminder of the past. Upon arrival we were surrounded by many old wooden cabins (some would call them “shacks”) and we were not surprised when we heard accounts of people immediately turning their cars around and leaving Keno when they drove in. Not us however, we loved it right from the start.

We went into the museum – kind of the central part of Keno – where we met Yvonne who looks after the museum/gift shop/community affairs. In retrospect, we think of her as the town’s welcome wagon – she is full of information and history as well as having sparkling personality. The museum was about to close, and we were hungry, so we paid Yvonne for camping and went to set up camp. Started setting up our tent, and got poured on. Luckily, the campground had a nice cooking shelter with a wood stove, so we were able to keep dry and warm while we waited the storm out. Next morning we woke up to another downpour that lasted all day, so we spent the day between the museum and shelter.

The Keno Museum is UNBELIEVABLE – describes and displays the history of Keno City as a silver mining town (hence the highway/dirt road name “silver trail”). Yvonne herself was involved in the mining when it was still going on. The museum was largely put together by a fellow named Mike (whom we would later meet) with a lot of help from the community. Mike used to be the Mayor of Keno City, and now owns the snack bar across from the museum.

That night, as we cooked our food in the shelter because the skies had still not let up, a friendly looking fellow with huge blue eyes came by to chat. We found out that his name was Eric, and he and his wife Prudence are from BC, but have been coming to Keno for 3 summers in a row now to be the campground hosts. We found out that Eric was one of those people that almost turned around when he first got a look at Keno, but his lovely wife talked him into staying, and he is sure glad that she did.

Eric is a retired geophysicist (of all things…), who has worked all over the world. His hobby is prospecting – ie panning for gold! Keno is a great place for him because there is currently active placer gold mining going on and he made friends with a miner who drops him “pay dirt” about once a week or so. Through talking with Eric, we learned that he goes up Lightning Creek on a daily basis where he keeps his own sluice box and gold pans and searches for gold! He must have seen Jim’s eyes light up because he invited us up the next morning for a lesson, pending the weather. So we hoped for good weather, and sure enough it came – overcast, but no rain.

Eric and his wife showed us their little hobby operation they had going. Eric would shovel the “paydirt” into the sluice box, have it washed, then when enough material collected in the box he would pan it out. Panning for gold may look easy, but in fact there is quite an art to it, and Prudence and Eric have it down to a “T”. We even found gold – tiny flakes in our pan about the size of a pin head! Eric later showed us his bottle of gold he has collected this summer – a substantial amount with some larger nuggets too. He usually gets about 2oz a season. Not bad for a free hobby!

We took advantage of the “no rain situation” and headed for Keno Hill. We had read a lot about this “hill”; it is known for its many alpine flowers and wildlife. It is a special spot because the mountains around Keno City remained ice free during the last ice age ~ 10,000yrs ago, when much of N. America was covered by glaciers. As a result, they are home to plants and animals unique to “Beringia”, the unglaciated grassland that once stretched from the Yukon across Alaska to Siberia. What makes Keno Hill even more special is that because it was a mining town, there are mining roads providing easy access up into the mountains giving us an excellent view of this special alpine wildlife that is rarely available elsewhere. Needless to say, we saw the most wildflowers we’ve ever seen in full bloom all at once – it appeared that we were there at the perfect time! We were surrounded most of the time by curious Hoary Marmots and Collared Pikas who allowed us to get pretty close for photos. We were also introduced to the Ptarmigan and American Golden Plover here. There are numerous old buildings and old mining shafts on the mountain as well – it was so fun exploring around the area, trying to envision what it would have been like working there when the mine was booming.

We had worked up quite an appetite after our day of exploring, so we thought we’d head to Mike’s Snack Bar – we had heard a lot about him by now, so we thought we’d better meet him since he sounded so interesting. His snack bar is a museum in itself, as it’s shelves and walls are completely covered with antiques and old signs. A very comfortable place that could keep one busy for hours just looking at the walls. He made us pizza -which turned out to be the best pizza we had ever had- and he sat and chatted with us for quite some time. We decided that he should write a book…he is so interesting and has done so much with his life and he is a super nice person to boot. His newest endeavour is in Dawson City, 3 hours away, where during the week he spends his time working on getting a Paddlewheeler on the Yukon River – it will be the first in 50 years.

Next day we got some sun!! We decided to go fishing – Jim caught his first grayling and we had a great shore lunch. Yum. Went back into town and said our goodbyes to the wonderful people we had met in Keno. As we drove away we both got a jolt of sadness; Keno was a place we really felt comfortable and the first place we have come across that we truly loved. Needless to say, we told Yvonne to contact us if (when) they decide to do reclamation on the land. We’d be there in a flash to help out.

Click Here for Dalton Pictures

July 23rd – 29th 2006

On July 23 we arrived at Pat and Denis Fox’s house in Fairbanks, Alaska – Pat Fox is my aunt’s cousin. We were treated royally and for the first time in months had civilized accomodations. Pat was a gracious host and an excellent cook. Denis is retired and a good storyteller and we whiled a lot of time away listening intently to his stories. They made us feel completely at home and literally gave us the run of their house. They also helped make it possible to travel up the Dalton Highway – also known as the haul road – by letting us store some of our belongings in their garage to make room for a full sized spare to fit in our car. So after purchasing a spare tire and rim ($60 US) we began our 670km journey up the Dalton Highway.

The Dalton Highway traverses three different watersheds – the Pacific, the Bering and the Arctic – over it’s length. It’s mostly dirt/gravel with approximately 1/4 paved. It follows the Alaska Pipeline all the way to Prudhoe Bay – right on the Arctic Ocean – where the oilfields are which was the catalyst for the creation of the pipeline and “haul road”.
Our thoughts were only trained on making the Arctic Circle, but when we reached that goal without tire failure we thought we would attempt Coldfoot, which was only 100km further. Besides, camping at the Arctic Circle was currently prohibited due to aggressive wolf behaviour in the area!

It got late – only in time, not sunlight – so we stopped at a pullout just short of our destination and camped for free. In the morning we drove a short distance to Coldfoot and filled up our gas tank (gas is few and far between up this road), and then visited the brand new Arctic Interagency visitor center. It was there we were urged by a friendly interpretor to continue our journey northward and assured us the road was reasonably good.

A quick huddle between the 3 of us found that we were all eager to continue. Heck, we had a spare tire and it was only 385 more kilometers. So once we were finished at the visitor center – which was very nice with friendly staff I must add – we were once again headed north now with our sights on the Arctic Ocean!

On the way we took a recommended side trip to Wiseman. A tiny little ex-mining town with a handful of die-hard northerners who are able to eke out a living on this meager land much akin to Keno City in the Yukon. We met a guy there who was nice enough to give us a bunch of lettuce he grew in what he called “the most northern garden in Alaska” – and he might be right. Kristin enjoyed Wiseman so much she bought a T-shirt as a souvenir from there (her first souvenir for herself on our journey thus far).
With 380kms to go we pass the farthest north spruce tree on the highway. We’re not sure how they arrived at this conclusion as there are definitely more and livelier trees north of this one?! But rest assured, it is one of the most northern as once you pass through the Brooks Range onto what is called the North Slope, it is truly treeless barrenlands and was full of Caribou, Grizzlies and a plethora of Arctic birds and waterfoul. It’s a spectacular sight looking miles in every direction of smooth, velvety looking carpeted landscape of open tundra.

We opted to camp about 60km outside of Deadhorse (aka Prudhoe Bay) as it was getting late. So, we found a spot up on a hill to experience the non-setting sun which occurs up here from June 10th to August 10th. I say experience because practically just after we positioned our tent it clouded over and stayed that way! Oh well, we know the sun never set and we were there and that is good enough.

In the morning we made our way to Deadhorse. Deadhorse is an industry town with no permanent residents. It is a bleak place which would be terribly cold in the winter (not to mention dark) in this bleakest of barren lands – the largest oil field in the US – but we managed to find some beautiful wildlife amongst the oil wells and fabrication shops intermittent with tundra lakes. There was a good sized grizzly in town while we were in town and we were fortunate enough to see snow buntings, long-tailed jaegers, tundra swans, brant geese and arctic loons just to name a few (the only ones I could recognize!).

Even as close as one comes to the Arctic Ocean in Deadhorse, one cannot dip one’s feet in the ocean until one pays the oil company $37.00 US per person to drive one on a “guided tour” through the oil fields to the gravel beach. So, we did of course – how can’t you? Anyway, it was worth it, albeit unceremonious. Erik went for a swim (yes, a swim), Kris and I dipped our feet, we collected a few rocks, took a few photos and were quickly headed southbound – mission accomplished. This would be the northermost point on our journey – to give you an idea how far north we have travelled, if you drove 2700km straight north of Oshawa you would be as far north as we were. That would put you around the middle of Baffin Island!

We saw two huge caribou herds on our way back to ‘civilization’ (over 200 caribou at once) and managed the trip without incident. It was definitely a highlight in our adventure.

We arrived back at the Fox’s to pick up our gear which was stored in their garage, and they were kind enough to let us stay with them yet another night and get cleaned up. In the morning we needed to continue on our journey so we said our good-byes and in parting were given 6 tins of smoked sockeye salmon which Denis caught, smoked and canned himself! Absolutely succulent! (we later sacrificed one of the tins to an Aussie friend we would meet…)They also gave us a Milepost – a thick magazine with descriptions down to each mile of every road in all of Alaska and the Yukon which is a “bible” for all travellers in these parts and has certainly come in handy. Thanks for everything Foxes….we’ll always have fond memories of our visit with you both! The only thing we deeply regret is not getting a picture of us all together! We cannot believe we forgot to do this!

On our way back south from Fairbanks we were to reap one more benefit from meeting the Foxes. They gave us directions to the ‘Fish Camp’ where the Fox’s friends Mike and Jacque Tinker own some property on the Copper River – famous for it’s sockeye salmon runs. At the camp Mike and Denis run a fishwheel to catch sockeyes. There they filet them, vacuum pack them or filet them and smoke them and can them. Either way, you can’t get them any fresher!

Mike is a very interesting person who has spent years as a hunting guide up in the Brooks Range and North Slopes. So needless to say, he has incredible stories and a great deal of wilderness wisdom. Anticipating our arrival, Mike presented us with a nice big fresh sockeye salmon fillet that he had caught earlier in the day. We began salivating immediately, seasoned up the fish and baked it in a portable oven – aka BBQ – and in seconds it was consumed.

That night we drank a few wobbly pops and chatted with Mike around the fire. Erik actually had a pretty good buzz going and entertained us after Mike went to bed. It began to rain so Mike had offered us someone’s camper to sleep in which was luxury and we stayed warm and dry. We just want to say thanks Mike and Jacque Tinker, and whoever the camper owners are; we had a great time and it was a pleasure to meet you both.

July 20th – 24th 2006

Our trip with Erik would be Northward bound to start off with. On the way to Denali State Park we joked with Erik that he had brought horseshoes with him, because the weather had (momentarily) cleared up. This was terrific because as soon as Mount McKinley came in view we were able to see the entire mountain/summit totally unobstructed. We stopped at a pull off at the side of the road and were mesmerized by it’s grandeur. Apparently we were very lucky to be able to view its entirity, because one Alaskan there said he hadn’t seen its peak for 2 years due to cloud cover!

Mount McKinley (aka Denali) is North America’s highest peak at 20,320ft (fyi Mt Logan is Canada’s highest peak at 19,551ft in Kluane NP in the Yukon, but one cannot see it unless one flies in – it is surrounded by ice fields….we didn’t have the cash to fly in…).
By the time we left the mountain view, it had started to cloud over again, so our timing had been perfect. It was raining by the time we found our campsite (so much for Erik’s horseshoes) but we weren’t letting it get us down. We set up, ate, and headed for a 5 mile walk in the rain. Somehow on this journey Kristin lost her favorite hat….she just has not been the same since!

Next AM we packed up our wet tent and drove up the road to a trailhead to hike. A moderate uphill climb for about 6 miles where a ton of ground squirrels posed for Erik to take pics. They were the only animals out in view that day…the rest must have been hiding in shelters/dens to get out of the crummy weather.
After our hike we drove to the famous Denali National Park where we were lucky enough to get one of the last tent sites available. There is one road that goes into Denali NP, and public vehicles are only allowed to drive up to mile marker 15. After this, if one wants to venture into the park to camp, or just to visit for the day, you have to buy a seat on the bus. This really limits the number of people that go into Denali, and has kept the park wild. The road itself in the park is dirt/gravel, and most people probably wouldn’t want to drive it anyways. We had reserved a spot on the camper bus and camping at Wonder Lake – a 5.5hr drive into the park – for the next day. We retired that night to our usual game of Skip Bo that we had got Erik addicted to. Our entertainment was heightened by Erik as he had a little bit to drink and he became a happy/talkative/funny lush.
Our camper bus was to leave at 4pm, so we visited the Denali Visitor Centre, did a short hike, then caught the bus. Our bus was scheduled to have ~20 people on it, but instead we ended up with only 8, so it was a nice small group. The bus driver, who initially appeared very gruff, turned out to be excellent – she stopped anytime anyone asked and for all wildlife viewings.

For about 2 miles shortly after we started, there were signs erected along the road stating, ‘caution area closed’. There had been a fresh caribou kill and grizzlies had been seen feeding on it…needless to say, no one was allowed out at this point. However, 3 guys on the bus were destined to go backcountry in this area (the backcountry is set up as a quadrant system – only so many people can be in a quadrant at a time…again keeping Denali wild). So, they waited a little ways after the signs and we bid them all good luck as they jumped out the back of the bus.

The bus ride was incredible! We saw grizzlies, our first Dall Sheep, Bald Eagles, wolf pups playing at a river, Northern Hawk Owls, Caribou, not to mention beautiful scenery – tundra, mountains and Mt McKinley.
Upon arrival at Wonder Lake around 10pm, we ate dinner and once again sat in awe of McKinley which the sunset had turned a beautiful pink colour.

Next AM, Erik’s horseshoes were back again because we arose to another unobstructed view of the mountain. We hiked a trail that took us closer to McKinley, and it was hard to take our eyes off the Mtn the whole way there. We crossed a few creeks, and much to Jim and Erik’s horror…they saw grayling and didn’t have their fishing rods with them! We sat and had apple slices with peanut butter (a nice snack if you haven’t tried it), then headed back to camp to catch the bus. We ended up having to run about the last km or so back in order to catch our bus in time….we made it, but just. The bus ride out was packed – we crammed ourselves and our backpacks in the back seats hoping our ‘eau de camping’ didn’t offend the day trippers. We were again lucky enough to see caribou, bears, moose, and various birds on the way out.

Denali National Park is an incredible park – if you can get past the ridiculous confusion between ARAMARK who runs the buses, and the National Park itself – we would definetly go back and spend more time in the backcountry…..maybe someday again.

Click Here for Pictures

In Dawson City, almost simulataneously we both thought of all the fresh veggies in our cooler and what we could do with them before the border guards had another tossed salad on us. Throwing the precious cargo out was not an option and looking over the inventory we knew readily there was no chance we could consume them all with such a short drive (about 100km) to the border. We decided to disguise them in the form of spaghetti sauce – foolproof plan! So, we pulled into a picnic site along the Yukon River, and proceeded to brew up a big batch of spaghetti sauce for future consumption. The rest of the veggies and fruit we ate non-stop before the border crossing (Kris ate at least 2lbs of cherries), but at least the border patrol would not have lunch on us this day.

Before leaving Dawson City we stopped at the visitor center to inquire about services – namely fuel – along the Top Of The World Highway. Note: nearly all the roads in Alaska/Yukon no matter what the size nor condition are considered highways, and the Top Of The World Highway although quite scenic would scarcely qualify as a country lane in Ontario. The friendly tourist info employee informed us quite confidently that we could acquire “cheap” american fuel in Boundary, only 110kms away. We were sure we had enough “very expensive canadian fuel” to make it that far, so we proceeded on our journey of “the top of the world”!

It was a very rough road to the border – paved, but with exceptional potholes practically the size of our little car. The drive is extraordinary as you gain elevation and are quickly above the tree line and treated with expansive views of the endlessly barren countryside. We were treated to another close up view of a young grizzly meandering right down the middle of the highway. After photographing him, we looked back at him through our rear view mirror and saw him standing right where we stopped, looking around as though he was wondering what we could have possibly been looking at. He just stood there until he was no longer in our sights. Funny!

Once at the border we actually had an experience with an american guard who was rather amicable. When he queried us whether we were in possession of fresh veggies and fruit, with a smirk on our faces we told him “no”. The he asked us if we had any medication with us. Well, we proceeded to name off all the meds we were carrying, but before long, with a smirk on his face, he said, ” I mean medication you can’t buy at the pharmacy”. We said “no”, and really didn’t, and we were allowed to pass. Just before we left he informed us to “take it easy for the next 45 miles to Chicken” (yes, this is the name of the town) because – again with a little smirk on his face – “the road is a little suspect”.

A little suspect was an understatement as the road frequently dwindled to the size of an old one lane cottage road and we wondered at times if we were still on the right road. The only reason we knew we didn’t take a wrong turn was because there wasn’t any! Anyway, the road wasn’t too bad for our “rugged” vehicle, but the fact that the available fuel we were promised in Boundary was a bit of a concern. Not only didn’t they have any fuel, the whole place seemed to be deserted as though they were abducted by aliens! The lights were on, the doors were open, there was music playing, but nevertheless nobody was home.

When I told Kris of our situation, she immediately went into panic mode and wanted to drive the seven miles back to the border and call CAA to bring us some fuel! Wouldn’t that be great when the tow truck driver showed up – “so ya ran outta gas, huh?”. Well, no, but we thought we might. Anyway, we had a bit of a tif about filling up the car because I always wait til we’re empty before I figure we need to fill up. To make a long story short we decided to drive and if and when we ran out of gas we’d cross that pipeline when we got there. I glided down many hills in neutral and pulled into Chicken with at least a sixteenth of a tank left and the low fuel light flashing for the last 20km – no problem…probably still could have driven another 10km!

Originally we were going to drive all the way to Tok (pronounced Toke), but when we were offered free camping with a fill up at the gas station/campground, we were unable to resist. The people there were very nice, and when we pulled into our site we were immediately invited over for a cold beer by a nice couple from Saskatchewan, who were instantly elevated to “best friend for the day” status.

We had been encouraged if ever passing through Chicken to stop in at the pub and see all the “paraphenelia” hanging off the walls. (Note: The town of “Chicken” is actually called Chicken because the old timers could not spell Ptarmigan. No, we are not kidding.) So, we went for a short walk to the “Downtown” area of Chicken which consisted of a souvenir shop, pub, restaurant, outhouses, and picnic table all owned and operated by the same character. There were a few people in and around the pub so we mosied in to sample an Alaskan Amber Ale – an excellent example of alliteration I might add – and check out the inside of the pub. It was hilarious – there was a plethora of hats, bras and panties hanging on practically every square inch of the ceiling and walls! Before we could even enquire why all the bras and panties were “mangled”, the bartender/owner had talked a young woman around 20 and an older woman of around 60 to donate their undies to be the ammo for the local cannon!

So they haul this mortar/cannon into the parking lot, insert a wick/fuse, pound in some gunpowder and then a pair of panties. Light the fuse, and much to everyone’s delight, blow the panties to smitherines! The remnants get hung in the bar. End of mystery – hey, there’s not a lot going on in Chicken!

The next morning we decided to make it a short driving day to stay at a campground called “Sourdough” and get some much needed laundry and showering done. In the evening the energetic owner/operator entertains the campground guests with funny songs and a pancake toss to win a free breakfast – which we didn’t win. It was a lot of fun and we got plenty done including getting some “cheaper” groceries.

In the AM, we to Anchorage passing through some fantastic terrain and scenery. From Tok to Glenallen you see the 16,000+ft Wrangell/St. Elias mountains, then from Glenallen to Anchorage pass through the Matanuska Valley carved out by the huge Matanuska glacier which can also be viewed from the road.

Approaching Anchorage and with the dread of being in a large city, we opted to camp at an outlying suburb called Eagle River about 10 miles out of the city. It turned out to be a good choice as the “town” of Eagle River offered us everything we needed but was small and easy to navigate. We were able over the next few days in preparation of our friends arrival in Anchorage to get some necessities accomplished. We were able to to access the internet at the library, get a storage unit to store stuff to make room for our guest traveller, get photos downloaded to CD’s, get an oil change, watch a movie (Pirates of the Caribbean which sucked in our view), do groceries, hike and all very close to our campground and a short drive to Anchorage.

We had a little spare time to explore Anchorage before our guest’s plane arrived, so we visited the State Lands Visitor Center where we had to go through a metal detector!? Kris set it off with her boots, but I had no problem getting through with a good size knife on my belt!

Our guest, Erik, arrived in Anchorage around 11:30pm and would spend the next 2.5 weeks touring around Alaska with us.

I guess by now you have got to be wondering what a “Snucins” is. Well, that is our good friend who lives in Fort St. John of northern BC. His name is Erik Snucins – Latvian, and we have no idea what it means. Erik is a great guy, an amazing adventurer/outdoorsman/marathoner who is in great shape and in his early 40’s. If this sounds like a singles ad, it’s because Erik is currently single and looking for the right woman who can keep up with him!!

July 5th we once again were headed to Whitehorse for supplies to trek north up the Alaska highway. On our way to Whitehorse it was actually sunny and quite warm so we stopped at Kookatsoon Lake for a cool refreshing swim (Jim did….it was too darn cold for Kristin). We met a woman who moved to the Yukon from Ontario and spent seven years in the woods without water or hydro – interesting people up here!

Once in Whitehorse we did some groceries – mostly fresh produce which we couldn’t bring from the U.S. Jim was dying for some pizza, as our tablefare gets a little redundant after a while, so we stopped for some nachos and pizza before departing northbound. We camped at Fox Lake near the spot where we – that is, Kristin – caught our first Yukon fish. A small pike, but it’s a start!

Stopped to fuel up in Carmacks – the namesake of the famous George Carmack who staked the first claim on Bonanza Creek and set off the Klondike Gold Rush. Gas was expensive, and so was everything else – the ice was so dear that we passed on it! Water was ridiculous too, but ironically we were out and even with all the streams, lakes and springs around good water is tough to find! There is a lot of metal (including arsenic) in the rock up in these parts and much of the water is kind of distasteful. Anyway, it was an expense we never even thought we’d accrue….so back to Carmacks – shabby little town with no major interest that we could find.

Heading north from Carmacks, one comes into the infamous Five Finger Rapids where many prospectors met their fate sporting their homemade rafts, carrying all their precious cargo in these ill fated, dangerous waters. Even if they upset their rafts and lived to tell about it, it must have been heart breaking to have come this far and now find themselves stranded in the middle of nowhere without the necessary tools and food to survive! Disappointment was typical in the rush of 1897 though, as only a handful of men out of tens of thousands would actually prosper and find that elusive yellow metal.

At the junction of the Alaska highway and the Robert Campbell highway, there was a cute little tourist info building with a not so cute nor little, bitter lady working inside. Tactfully Jim enquired about her misery and learned mining is still the source of feast or famine to this day in the Yukon. When mines open, towns spring up out of seemingly nowhere. People in these towns prosper as does the mine until either the precious ore runs out or the prices drop too much making it unprofitable to run the mine. The mines close and often the town literally closes down with it. There are hundreds of ghost towns in the Yukon, especially towns which are off the beaten path. It’s eerie to walk around town sites where nary a soul exists – it seems as though there was an alien abduction or chernobylistic event that occurred and cleansed the town of human life.

People living in these remote areas are in a different situation than are people living along major or secondary roads and perhaps a little more fortunate I suppose. Generally people who live in remote towns are living in a mining owned camp with power supplied by the mine, food brought in by the mine, houses supplied by the mine, etc. Once the mine closes down, the power ceases, the food stops being imported and sometimes the houses are taken away, drastically reversing the whole process. These people have no option other than to move away and find a new home. Not pleasant, but straight forward and since a lot of these people had little vested interest in the town they would be out of pocket unsubstantially.

People who work in mines which crop up in more urban areas or exist for an extended amount of time and have good roads built to them end up buying houses and use permanent power. When mines shut down in these areas, people are not forced to leave as the houses, power and food are all still available. A lot of people that did purchace their own property and have mortgages find that they are unable to walk away from them. Such is the misery of the bitter tourist lady, as she was subjected to just that. Like a lot of small post-mining towns, the inhabitants have no way to earn a living and have mortgages for houses that have depreciated tremendously.

What we learned from all this is the following: if you work in a mining town, rent your house! Secondly, if you want cheap property, look in one-horse driven towns where the horse recently died. We have many in Ontario if you’re interested.

Enough about mining for now, but we’ll be back often I’m sure.

There is a ~50km dirt road which runs between the Alaska highway and the Robert Campbell highway sporting three small campgrounds and several lakes. Trying to get off the beaten path a little, we decided to check them out and see if we could see some wildlife – we didn’t – or catch some fish – which we also didn’t. Unfortunately the rough road was well used by locals and a lot of their garbage remained at makeshift campsites at most lake accesses.

We camped on Frenchman Lake, and met some interesting people. A nice couple from Alaska had a jet boat and were trying their luck for some fish – namely lake trout. Heck, you could see fish from the dock, how hard could it be in the virgin waters – NOT. Jim struck up a conversation with a semi-retired Yukon trucker/fisher while the nice Alaskan couple were trolling out front of us in the bay. Jim was fishing, so naturally the conversation began there. He told Jim that the fish we could see in the water off the dock were whitefish and could be caught fairly easily using a small spoon or piece of corn bounced on the bottom. When  asked about the lake trout – which the Alaskans were fishing for – he told Jim there used to be and still are some 8 miles down the lake at the other end…..typical of any lake which gets a boat ramp built onto it. We felt bad for the Alaskans, but such is fishing I guess, you just don’t know, so Jim didn’t say anything, but did stop fishing.

Thier conversation got to roads and he had a plethora of information as he has pretty much drove every road in the Yukon – which actually isn’t saying much. When we inquired about the Dempster highway, he told us it was O.K., which was good news. He also said the grayling fishing along the road was great, which was even better news! Nothing would stop our Dempster highway trip now….so we thought. More about that later. (nothing like a bit of foreshadowing!)

We left the camp promptly in the morning and on our drive along the Robert Campbell back to the Alaska highway we were fortunate enough to find another grizzly lazing around, munching on roadside greens. It’s hard to beliieve these bears have such a nasty reputation, but never underestimate their complacency! If left alone and respected, there is apparently little to worry about – usually not very many people get eaten by them.

We decided to head north and take a side trip down the Silver trail to see what it’s all about. With place names like Mayo and Keno City, we found it too hard to resist!

Hello everyone. Going to try to update our blog to the present.

We are currently in Carcross, Yukon – originally called “Caribou Crossing” where the alleged smallest desert in the world is located. We’re not sure what the criteria for a desert is, but if it’s a giant sand dune in the middle of nowhere I guess it would qualify.

We arrived in Whitehorse on June 24th. We stayed overnight and re-stocked our supplies, bought some fishing licenses – which we haven’t put to use yet (did dip a fly rod in a stream for 10 minutes though) – and treated ourselves to some fine northern entertainment. We took in the famous “Frantic Follies” which is typical of the entertainment during the goldrush era. We found it fairly entertaining but what we discovered being around the hordes of dressed up, fruitily fragranced audience was that we had a “fragrance” unique to ourselves, and trust me when I say “eau de trois jours camping” doesn’t work well in a civilzed city environment. As the show continued it got hotter than we’re used to being outside all the time, and we began to get a little sweaty. That’s when  things really got a tad odiferous! I’d just like to note that the place was practically filled to capacity – except the two seats beside us. We enjoyed the show but were happy to get back outside not to mention showered and a change of clothes. Enough said about that.

On June 25th we arrived once again to the friendly U.S. border near Haines. I don’t know if we disturbed this guy from his favorite movie – Bridge Over the River Kwai – but he was in a foul mood. Talk about militant! We got across unceremoniously sans our fruits and veggies once again – border patrols must never have to shop for fresh produce!

On our way to Haines, Alaska, we saw our first grizzly and saw another just outside of town. They are skinny beasts this time of year with huge heads and paws – just to remind you how powerful they are while they innocently munch away on grasses and frolic carefree in the fields.

Just outside of Haines there is a bald eagle reserve and in the late fall/early winter there will be up to 3500 baldies feasting on spawned out salmon. A spectacle to behold I’m sure.

In the morning we toured around some of the old military buildings in Haines before boarding our car ferry or our side trip to Juneau.

Our trip down Lynn Canal was rather uneventful and the weather was a little damp and chilly once again. It’s hard to believe sitting here in sunny warm weather, how long we had such crappy weather. We hadn’t had a completely sunny day since arriiving at Half Moon Bay near San Francisco on May 30th! 32 straight days – Do you think we’re enjoying our 4th day of sun in a row?!

We docked in Juneau at around 12:30am without any accomodations reserved. That turned out rather short sighted as we spent the night in our car at the end of the road – literally – but on the plus side we “camped” for free and I saw a sea otter sleeping on the rocks near shore.

Next morning we found a government campground near the spectacular mendenhall glacier of the same namesake which cost $10/night, which included free showers and firewood, not to mention a terrific view of the glacier. Needless to say, we camped there for 5 nights in a row!

Juneau – the capital city of Alaska, population around 35,000 and can only be reached by boat or by plane. A unique fishing/mining city where gold was discovered by Joe Juneau – not the hockey player – in 1897. A bustling, friendly small city where the cars – which never get body damage repaired – always give pedestrians the right of way. The downtown core where up to 6 cruise ships and 20,000 visitors a day arrive is separate from the locals Juneau. The houses are almost all unique, the groceries and gas are very reasonable and Walmart got booted out of town! The city  still has small town friendliness and nearly everyone says hello and the grocery boy or girl still carry your groceries out to your car for you. They have a wonderful university and the library in it allowed us unlimited free internet access which was extremely helpful! It’s rather curious how a city, where it’s nearly impossible for locals to get away from, where 58F is shorts weather, 64F is balmy and any day it doesn’t rain is a good day can be so cheery?! Juneau truly is a city who acts like smallville USA and we enjoyed ourselves fully – even in the rain and cold.

During our stay in Juneau we hiked some of the over 100 miles of trails, actually touched a glacier, and hardly met a soul! We picked up the movie “Click” at the theatre and ate two fabulous fish fries at the Thane Ore House.

We were sad to leave Juneau, but looked forward to our sunny passage to Skagway, where chechacko (newbies) prospectors collected and amassed the 1000lbs of gear necessary for the 600 mile journey to Dawson where the Klondike Goldrush took place in 1897/98.

Skagway is pretty much a busy tourist town of 850 or so year round residents. We toured around town a bit but were mostly interested in the history aspect of the town and the now defunct town of Dyea – pronounced Dye-e – which was the starting point of the gruelling 33 mile hike along and over the notoriously steep (45 degree) Chilkoot Pass. We hiked the first five miles of the trail just to check it out. Ironically, the first 5 miles to Finnegans Camp is almost completely flat! We hope to hike the entire 33 miles to Bennett Lake and return via the White Pass Railway in August on our way home.

So that brings us to July 5th in Carcross where it’s still sunny and warm, camping for free – with free firewood. Last night we had a grouse walk right through our campsite with 10 chicks in tow! This morning a couple of Gray Jays visited our site to check in on us.

In the next few days we will wend our way northward to Dawson City and learn about life in the city of gold!