Sea to Land

Having been on the water for a few days, we finally went onshore in Juneau, Alaska’s capital.  We walked the shops along the waterfront (so not worth it), many of them owned by the cruise line, and took a bus to the Mendenhall Glacier (so worth it).  As it was getting late in the day when we disembarked, we ate a late lunch, then frantically looked for transportation to the glacier.  Luckily we found a tour bus making its last round to the park.  We hopped on and made our way across town to the Mendenhall Glacier.  We hit the main viewing spots, snapped some pics, and went to wait for our ride back to the ship.  While waiting at the bus stop, we were treated to a brief encounter with a black bear that was interested in the salmon, living out their genetic responsibility of spawning in a nearby creek, just steps away.  Definitely a better Alaskan experience than the shops in town!  Back on board that evening, we finished packing and sailed to our final port, Skagway.

Drifting into Juneau.

Mendenhall Glacier and Nugget Falls.

All that work, only to become bear food!

For some reason, I did not connect the dots that at least the first part of our cruise and land tour celebrates the gold rush to the Klondike, that began in the late 1800’s.  So this adventure took on an educational twist, besides that of our beer exploits on the ship.  So, goodbye Volendam…hello Skagway.

Looking towards Skagway from the ship.

Looking toward the back of the ship.

Looking toward Skagway from an overlook.

Skagway was the jumping off point for over 100,000 wannabe miners, looking for gold, once word got around about a year after gold was first discovered in the Yukon, in Canada.  The problem was, that once your ship docked, you still had another 500+ miles to go to get your chance to find your fortune.  But this is not a history blog, so I will keep my educational snippets to a minimum.  

Skagway is roughly 20 blocks by 5 blocks in size.  It has a main drag, leading away from the docks with numerous stores, again…many owned by the cruise line.  There is a weird, disproportionate number of jewelry stores compared to the other stores as well.  I didn’t spend much time trying to figure that one out.  While our bags were being delivered to our hotel (also owned by the cruise line), we visited the city cemetery, where a few colorful historic characters were laid to rest from Skagway’s early days.  Headstones, dating back to the late 1800’s, were within a short hike of a beautiful waterfall.  After a short ride back to the hotel, we checked in, walked the city of Skagway, supported a number of stores and establishments, then back to prepare for leaving the next morning on our land adventure.

Cemetery

Where's Waldo?

Beth in a shower of bubbles.

T-shirts only...no bikes!

I finally found the truck I fell off of a long time ago!

Downtown Skagway

The miner’s heading into Canada in search of gold became a concern for the Canadian authorities, because most of those seeking out their riches had no clue what they were getting into.  Once it was apparent that these fortune seekers were in way over their heads, they were required by Canada to take with them on their journey, a list of supplies to help insure their longevity that totaled approximately 1 ton.  Each miner to be, had to transport 2,000 lbs. with them, 500 miles to Dawson City, the hub of the gold fields.

Leaving Skagway, we headed to Whitehorse.  Our first mode of transport north was the Whitehorse Pass Railway, unfortunately it was not available at the time the miner’s headed that direction.  Like some of the narrow gauge railroads in the lower forty-eight, it followed mountain streams up to the lowest mountain pass.  Most miners chose a different path though.  The Chilkoot Pass.  It was shorter, but more vertical than the Whitehorse Pass.  Our train ride ended at the Canadian border, where we boarded our motor coach (bus) and continued onto Whitehorse.

A picture of a picture of the long haul up Chilkoot Pass.  Makes me want to
have been miner wannabe...NOT!

Heading up Whitehorse Pass.

Still heading up Whitehorse Pass.

The uphill side of the train.

Canadian Border

Rachel, our Holland America Cruise land tour guide, and our motor coach driver, Scott, got our things stowed away and we settled into our seats.  No more getting up and going to the buffet if you were hungry or slipping out the back of the railcar to snap a photo of the next train tunnel we would be passing through, our confines were becoming more confined.  But, with a few photo and potty stops along the way, we reached Whitehorse, a city of significant size over Skagway, where we checked into our hotel, again…owned by the cruise line, and then cruised the main drag of shops.  It was now becoming clear that we were getting farther and farther away from “civilization,” because things were getting more expensive.  With a half-day warm up on the bus this day, we had a full day of it coming next.

Once the miners cleared the pass with their ton of supplies (sometimes taking as many as 40 trips up and down the mountain), which seems miraculous in itself, they soon became boat builders, because the most efficient way to get to Dawson City was by river.  So while waiting for the Bennett Lake to “ice out” from winter, they tried to create something that would float them and their supplies to their destination. 

With everyone in hopefully comfortable clothing, we boarded our bus and once again headed north.  We traveled through what seemed like a big valley between mountain ranges toward Dawson City.  With anywhere between 30 minutes to a couple of hours between stops, our time on the bus was interspersed with narrative from Scott, who provided some history and a few bad jokes as the kilometers rolled by. 

Some of our stops north included Carcross (shortened from Caribou Crossing), which could just about fit on a couple of football fields side by side.   But as you leave town, there is a miniature “desert”…Carcross Desert.  Evidently this area use to be underwater at one time and now all this sand is exposed and so seemingly out of place, yet unique.  We stopped at Braeburn Lodge for a butt break.  Besides being an “oasis” in the middle of nowhere along the Klondike Highway, they make gigantic cinnamon rolls, of which this crotchety old Santa looking dude sells for 16 Canadian dollars a piece (good, but not that good!).  A number of photo stops/restroom breaks later, we arrived at Dawson City, although technically not a “city.” 

Just another view.

And another.

World's smallest desert.

A butt break.  The color comes from minerals and diatoms...look them up!

Another butt break overlooking the Yukon River.

A pile of cinnamon roll.

Braeburn Lodge...home to the pile of cinnamon roll.

Another pee stop.

Antlers adorn most things.

After checking into our hotel, owned by…you guessed it…we headed out for a quick dinner, a visit to Diamond Tooth Gertie’s saloon show, and ending with the Downtown Hotel, home of the Sour Toe Cocktail.  I won’t tell the whole story of the Sour Toe, but it involves a real toe, alcohol, and in this case…Stuart!  

Saloon girls doing their can-can and they did-did.

Stuart emerges intact after his brush with a
mummified toe in his drink.

That brings you up to date and to our last stop in Canada.  Of the tens of thousands of hopeful miners that made it to Dawson City, most of the gold was gone before they arrived.  If you were lucky enough to make it all the way, you now had to deal with the heartbreak of doing it all for not.  Tomorrow we fly to Fairbanks on our own chartered jet plane.  Thanks Canada, for letting us travel aboot your beauty...eh?

My Zen from the Klondike Highway:  When the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally comes up in conversation, as it occasionally does, I tell those that have not been, that everyone needs to experience it at least once.  The vast open space that we have experienced on our trip here in the Yukon is in that same vein.  It is hard to appreciate its vastness.  But stuck on a motor coach, going 90 kph or about 50 mph, for 9 hours or so, you get a small sense of scale to it’s vastness as you stare out the window in awe.  It’s beautiful, it’s barren, it’s daunting, and it’s tantalizing.  For brief moments I can almost pretend to understand the draw for some folks to find their way here and carve out a life of sorts.  Me…I’m good where I’m at.