Dawson City

July 20
As we prepared for our final day on the river, we found remaining half a bottle of Canadian whiskey, and in dramatic turn, polished it off. We lazily paddled the remaining 23k to Dawson. From a couple of bends away we could see Midnight Dome and Moosehide Slide, but only when we were up cloase could we see the odd colored houses of Dawson City (population 1,800, the second largest city in the Yukon after Whitehorse). On the edge of town the Klondike River's clear waters merged in. We pulled up on a ricky beach and while freezing our butts off (it was -2°C in town last night), scrambled up the dike (built after the devastating ice jam flood of 1979) to scope out town. It soon became obvious that we needed to go a bit further, and floated to the boat ramp for our final pull out. We posed with our various souvenirs for some end-of-paddle photographs, repacked our gear into our packs, and carried the paddles, life jackets, and infamous blue barrels and Action Packer a couple of blocks through town to the Trading Post, the Kanoe People's local agent.

Paul and we were soon ready, and walked to the ferry for the ride across the Yukon to the hostel. The little ferry costs nothing, simply runs itself aground on sand and gravel shores to load and unload, and has to gerry just like a canoe to get across the quickly moving river. We found spots in Group site II and made ourselves comfortable. The hostel's "shower experience" had been well advertised, and after 10 days on a silty river, we were definitely ready.

The day ended with a truly excellent dinner of Yukon Salmon fish and chips at Sourdough Joe's and a visit to the local dance hall and casino, Diamond Tooth Gerties. THe dance shows got progressively racier as the night wore on. Soon Paul and Dave went head to head at the roulette table. Their $5 bets paled in comparison to the hundreds of dollars the chain-smoking regular paid our every time. After an hour Dave was down about $50. Saved by luck [or utter brilliance] in the last 10 minutes, he ended up down only $1. (Paul ended up ahead by $1). The evening's entertainment was definitely worth $1, though I think I would have felt differently about spending $50!

-Lexi

July 21
We woke a little groggy from our late night at Gertie's, but quickly stepped up our pace for an intense day of sightseeing. We started at the Robert Service Cabin, which is essentially exactly as it was when he left it. Much of the presentation was a discussion of his life, which was startlingly diverse and interesting. At the end, we were treated to several less well known poems. Dave's favorite was "The Three Bares", an entertaining tale of 3 outhouse seats and a benzene explosion.

Other sites included a tour of the Commissioner's house, which was beautifully restored to its turn oof the century elegance, a visit to the native cultures center where we enjoyed a modern dance performance, and a tour of the opulent Palace Grand Theater.

Quite out of gas, Dave and I opted for a picnic dinner on the waterfront instead of returning to the hostel to cook. After dinner, we went to the Palace Grand to watch a silent movie, Into God's Country, complete with live piano and banjo accompiament. The theater, after its original use as a location for vaudeville acts, was the first movie house in the Yukon. Although based on "Wipa the Walrus", this version featured Wipa as a heroic dog. The six of us occupied a classy third floor box seat room.

At the end of the show we moved to the Downtown Hotel, where at 9PM "The Captain" came in with a fancy wooden box to serve the infamous Sourtoe Cocktail. Packed in salt was indeed a genuine dessicated human toe, donated to the worthy cause by some frostbite victim. What began as a bizzare cheechako (greenhorn) initiation rite has endured do that about 65,000 people have joined the club by plopping the toe (there have been several as they get swallowed or lost) into a shot of liquor (Yukon Jack is traditional) and letting the toe touch their lips. With a bit of peer pressure the three guys and Lexi performed the solemn duty with the toe.

-Dave

July 22
Bright and early we took the ferry back to town and rented mountain bikes for the day. It took a few minutes to get all six of us outfitted, but then we were on the last leg of our historic journey, to the gold fields! Just outside of town we turned onto the dirt road leading to Bonanza Creek. Huge piles of old dredge tailings littered the valley floor and current operations were in full swing. We toured Dredge #4 with a Parcs Canada guide and learned what a dredge is and how it works. The machinery was fantastically huge, and all for collecting the tiniest bits of gold. A short pedal further up the road we visited Discovery Claim, the unpreposessing bit of real estate where the Yukon Gold Rush all began. After our long journey, it felt truly momentous to reach our destination. However, the stream was not filled with gold nuggets and our unskilled panning at Claim #6 was unfruitful. Like the vast majority of the starry eyed miners who came here in 1898, we didn't strike it rich. But also like them, we were content. The adventure of an arduous journey is its own reward, and a rich one at that. Eager for real physical exertion, Paul, Lexi, and I opted to return to town via the Ridge Road Trail, an old marsh-avoiding supply trail that is now a 30k hiking and mountain biking trail. We weren't unduly concerned about our preparation, and somehow glossed over the 2400' climb part (just to get to the beginning of the trail).

July 23

July 24