OUR ALASKA TRIP PART XIV CAUGHT IN THE SPELL

This is the 14th in a continuing series about our trip through Canada to Alaska

THE SPELL OF THE YUKON

I wanted the gold, and I sought it;

I scrabbled and mucked like a slave.

Was it famine or scurry – I fought it;

I hurled my youth into a grave.

I wanted the gold and I got it –

Came out with a fortune last fall. –

Yet somehow life’s not what I thought it.

And somehow the gold isn’t all.

— Robert Service (the poet of the Yukon)

 

I came to the Yukon hoping to be on the brink of deprivation, of hard-scrabble conditions, of history surrounding me. Dawson City is the Yukon I sought, but with some appreciated conveniences. In the Broadway play, “Oklahoma,” the song “Everything’s Up to Date in Kansas City” mentions, “You can walk to the privy in the rain and never wet your feet.” I harkened back to those days while here, with two changes: the privies are in the quaint stores and you can’t cross the wet streets without getting a line of mud up the back of your legs.

There’s lots to experience here; too much to see to get it all done in a day. Our group paused here for two-and-a-half days, and we are leaving with things that we still wanted to see.

The history and historic sights in town are truly interesting, from the dredge to the “kissing” buildings. From 1897-99, mining flourished. Since then, as the price of gold fluctuated and mining technology improved, there have been several revivals of the industry, and over the past 113 years, the population has gone from as few as 50 residents up to 60,000. The street along the foothills is 8th Avenue, but at its height (literally), it went to 19th, up and over the hill. In the summer of 1898, Dawson City became the largest city west of Winnipeg and north of San Francisco. That’s despite the fact that 100,000 sourdoughs left their homes in hopes of striking it rich, but only 30,000 made it to the Klondike. Some 88 percent of the gold in the Yukon comes from the Dawson area, and the Klondike became the fourth largest gold producer in the world.

Big-time gold prospecting was done with dredges that inched their way along creeks of the Klondike plying their course until the early 1960s, leaving mounds of “tailings,” piles of rocks churned up by the behemoth machines looking for precious gold.

More of a glimpse of the story of today’s Dawson City, Yukon Territory.

This warehouse is one of Dawson’s numerous storehouses in 1898, which “provided the life blood” for the city. For four months a year, the Yukon was open for shipping “and in the ensuing flurry of activity, the warehouses were loaded with every conceivable item … Over the next eight months, virtually cut off from the rest of the world, Dawson City drew on these supplies to satisfy the needs and wants of a modern metropolis.” Nowadays, when the cold comes, about 2,000 people or half of the town’s population, head south for the winter. The others brave temperatures as low as 60 below. Don’t even think about RVing in the winter, unless you have eight huskies along.

More thoughts about visiting and RVing in the area. We’ve been caravanning for 20 days, awaiting the onslaught of bad roads and mosquitoes. I’ve written about the roads often – there have been bad spots, but not as bad as we expected. And from the comments to Part XIII, we know that what’s coming up promises to be far worse. Yesterday on a not-very-bad portion of the road, a rock hit a back side window in RV #11 shattering the glass. Strange, but those things happen.

Tailgunner Spence advised me on the road ahead not to move onto the side of the road for an on-coming vehicle. Just stop! He also said that if it’s dry, the dust is terrible; if it’s wet, you’ve driving over mud. Hope that it rains Tuesday and clears up Wednesday.

The worst invasion of mosquitoes was at the Ancient Cedar Forest in British Columbia Other than that, not much of a problem, and I can’t say we’re disappointed.

Responding to a question about travelers with disabilities. Group member Jenks has used his scooter only twice, once in Prince George and once at Liard Springs. Since we are only in most places one or two nights, he said it’s not worth unloading it. He uses braces with a painkiller instead, which, in his opinion, is not a good solution, but it’s the best alternative. Using the motorized disability scooter rocks him on the bad surfaces.

We’ve been learning to live with the long days, which sounds like a plus. It is, except, of course, adjusting our sleeping times to the clock. We look at the clock and it’s 11:30 and still daytime. And we don’t want to go to sleep now anyway because when we sat down to eat and looked at the clock, it was 9:45. Where did the day go? Answer: It didn’t. It’s still here.

Finally, Monique and I are not qualified to judge restaurants, campgrounds or caravans. We eat most of our meals onboard, leaving the dining out to our fellow travelers. We only know the campgrounds we stay in, most of which are full-hook-up places. We don’t know what else is out there. We know our caravan and the people who comprise it. This is our first time going with others, so we can’t give a knowledgeable opinion, and besides, each of us has our own criteria for judging.

This is most important. These articles are letting you know our impressions of some of what we see and experience, and, incidentally, we play tourist much more than these blogs indicate. For instance, we’ve been to two shows and several museums, etc. As for the decision of how to RV to Alaska, it’s your decision about caravanning, going alone, or making the trip with a few compatible friends.

From the “Never-Bored RVers,” We’ll see you on down the road.