Day 8 -- Happy 10th Anniversary

June 26, 2014

We awoke to the continued sound of rain pitter-patter on the rooftop of the A-frame.  There was nothing to do now, but explore the little town of Dawson City, and wait, some of us more patiently than others, on tires to arrive.   We had a casserole for breakfast and a nice hot shower. 

This was our ten year anniversary.  The day we should have been crossing the Top of the World Highway.  As we watched the campers cleaning the mud off with the gas station provided water hose, we were thankful we weren’t on that dirt road today, but not entirely grateful to be stuck in a town that should have been nothing more than a whistle stop.

Here, we had Internet.  If, but only, for a few minutes at a time.  We were afraid to drive much or too far on the spare tire and worn rear tire.  The rain made it easy to not explore too far.  This gave us a chance to catch up on a few chores, cleaning trash out of the car, washing dishes, and the like.   

As if the particular situation was not grim enough, after the morning shower, Catrina rushed up behind Jason to startle him, only for him to turn as her ankle crackled as it twisted. 

Eventually, we did explore a little.  As neither one of us could sit there letting our vacation slip out of our grasps.

Dawson City sits at the confluence of the Yukon and the Klondike Rivers.  Our campsite nestled on the banks of Bonanza Creek, where upstream back in 1896, gold had been struck by George Washington Carmack.  The next year, the summer of 1897, when the newly rich miners reached the West Coast by steamboat, the Yukon Gold Rush began.  The steamboats proceeded to drop off boat loads of amateur miners off on Dawson’s doorstep, and the area population grew to an estimated 30,000 people.  By 1904, the Klondike was the largest producer of gold in Canada, and the fourth largest in the world.

Today, the current city sits as a tourist monument to those long forgotten days.  Although, as we made the trek up Dome Rd. to the top of Midnight Dome, it was evident that gold mining in this area wasn’t dead.  The gravel road was lined with fuchsia fireweed and brilliant blue lupines.  At the top, one could look down at the Klondike or the Yukon Rivers, or even Bonanza Creek, yet it was too cloudy, raining and miserable, to look across at the mountain ranges beyond. 

Vandals had burned a hole in the old blue observation deck overlooking the valley, and brush overgrew the old trails down the sides of the metamorphic rock. 

As we drove down the hill, Jason spotted a fox darting in between the forest cuts for the power lines, much too quickly for our camera triggers.

We drove the rest of the way into town, parking in front of the Klondike River, and walking along the Millennium Trail on its banks.  Catrina accomplished a good limp.  

There was one of two steamboats left on the Yukon, the S.S. Keno, requiring an admission price for a tour, docked next to the street.  The park and entire town seemed to have quite the transient population, on bicycles or lugging heavy hiking backpacks.  One gal with dreadlocks and hiking boots hauled around a baritone, carrying a rather lackluster tune in the gazebo.  Catrina teased Jason that he ought to go show her how it was done. 

We crossed the street and walked the boardwalk sidewalks, built originally for when the dirt street turned to feet of mud.  However, this particular street had been paved, although many were still not paved.

We windowed shop, and wandered into a jewelry store.  We admired some hand carved polar bears with green jade fish in their mouths.  We looked at each piece carefully, wishing our anniversary gifts weren't new tires for the car.  We admired the gold nuggets, carved mammoth fossilized tusks, jade, and even walrus tusks.  We chatted a while with the proprietor’s son behind the counter. 

Afterwards, we continued down the street.  It was evening now, and most of the shops had closed for the day.  We giggled at a few t-shirts in one of the windows.  We found ourselves at the other end of the street at a different jewelry store owned by the same craftsman, and we wandered in.

When we left, the streets were beginning to empty of tourists, even though the sun still shone bright in the west.  

We hiked back to our vehicles and drove back to our campsite.

That night, after a good dinner, a good rest was had by all.