HIKING THE CHILKOOT TRAIL – ALASKA TO YUKON, July 2011
What is it about nature that draws us in: its energy, life force, spirituality, its power to terrify us and yet enchant us with its wonder and beauty? That has been the journey for me in joining a hiking trek along the Chilkoot Trail. I was born and raised in the city, yet with all its comfort-filled amenities and safety, hiking had awakened my senses of allowing risk and challenge into my personal space. As one among many who love to explore the wilderness and welcome challenges both physically and mentally, the Chilkoot Trail was an ideal choice.
This little seemingly obscure place tucked away along the border of Alaska and British Columbia, has a long history of admiring fans. The trail is a historic hike along the path used by gold seekers during the turn of the century. Along the trail, you can see artifacts such as pots, saws, cables, even soles of shoes and much more, of ordinary people wanting something more out of life, like those of us who are smitten with the illusion of fortune, in their case, appearing as gold nuggets, risking all they have in the hope of gaining a happier life.
In reading of their determination to journey over a difficult route in an area filled with every kind of danger possible, my friend and I decided to walk this trail to experience a little of their hardship along a rugged and beautiful landscape.
In preparation for this hike, we needed to get fit, research our trek and overcome certain fears. Venturing out into a new territory always brings apprehension, fears, excitement and possibilities. If it is never attempted, we would never know what we are capable of doing.
At last, the day had arrived. Our neighbours drove us to the airport in Ottawa where we caught our flight to Whitehorse, Yukon. I had decided to wear my earrings despite an infection on my right ear from my earring. Once we reached the airport, I thought differently and decided to take the earrings off as my right ear was hurting. As we flew, my ear started to enflame. It was getting itchier and hotter and of course I was touching it trying to massage and cool it down with a damp cloth. I was also getting weaker and weaker. By the time we made it to the hotel, I was done in. I flaked out on the bed and slept for a few hours. Once I awoke, my ear was still enflamed and I started to worry. We had an extra day in Whitehorse before we started our hike of one week in the wilderness, so this allowed us to seek out various remedies from WalMart, such as swabs, ointment, antibacterial cream. It was Sunday. While at WalMart, I decided to get the advice from the pharmacist and he told me to see a doctor right away. He told me a clinic is open on Sundays near our hotel, so we anxiously yet calmly walked to the clinic. Thank God for the clinic being open and that I had my cards to cover the visit and the drugs. In entering the clinic, there was no line up, so the doctor saw me right away. I was so astonished how I was in and out of that clinic within 15 minutes of having seen the doctor. I never had that kind of prompt service even with a scheduled appointment. My ear had swelled to almost twice its size and was plugged so tight everything sounded muffled. That extra day was a miracle, as I don’t want to think of the consequences if I wasn’t prepared. The doctor had prescribed a strong dose of antibiotics for the week and told me to make sure my ears were not exposed to the sun. My wide-brimmed hat would take care of that.
The Chilkoot trail felt so surreal, in a land of many faces, from rainforest to tundra to rocks to dessert. There were lots of bear scat but no bears bothering us. We were a little group of six people: our guide, a couple from Switzerland, a young teacher from Holland and my friend and I from Ontario. The camaraderie that formed during this trek was heartfelt. We would spend five days and four nights on the trail, starting from Dyea, Alaska, to Lake Bennett, British Columbia, for approximately 50 km. From Lake Bennett, we would take a float plane ride back to Whitehorse, Yukon.
Our first day of the hike was travelling to its trailhead from Whitehorse to Dyea, passing through the historic gold rush village of Carcross, which name was shortened from Caribou Crossing, along the White Pass to Skagway, the metropolis for cruise ships. At this point, we had the option of taking a historic train ride along the White Pass to Skagway for an additional price, but we were happy to continue in our van that somewhat paralleled the path of the train.
The White Pass Railroad was built in 1899 to assist in the transport of goods and people to the gold fields at Dawson City. The scenic passageway of the railroad descends a route from 1200 metres to sea level in just 30 kilometres. During the Klondike Goldrush of 1898, some 30,000 gold seekers arrived in Skagway by steamship, ready to travel the 1000 km to the gold fields at Dawson City. Today, the town is bustling with visitors and still retains its gold rush flavour. The quaint streets of Skagway are perfect for strolling.
After having lunch in a lively pub in Skagway, sipping back our last beer for a week, we headed over to the customs office to register for the trail and show our passports that would allow us to cross the border at the highest elevation in our journey from USA to Canada. We travelled another 16 km to Dyea to the trailhead of the Chilkoot Trail. It was shortly after 2pm when we started and arrived around 5pm at Finnegan’s Point. The first part of the trail climbed steadily along the Taiya River. Spruce trees towered above the trail and hidden among those trees were eagle nests and the occasional black bear. We were too early to view the spawning salmon that can be seen in the river in late summer. Yet, signs of the Klondike Gold Rush were evident. Remnants of the old telephone line, built in 1898 to connect Skagway with Lake Bennett were seen, as we travelled along the 1950’s era logging road which formed the trail near our campsite.
Finnegan’s Point, at the base of Irene Glacier, was named for a fellow who built a bridge and for a short time collected a toll from passersby. The thousands of miners soon over-ran the bridge and his efforts to hold them back were futile.
Upon arrival at our campsite, our guide gave us our first lesson in setting up our tents on the wooden platforms which we would have at each campsite. We each had to take our turn helping prepare our meals, retrieving water and cleaning up. In volunteering to pump water in the nearby creek, I was quickly reminded that we were in grizzly country when I was about the leave without another person and the bear spray. The rule was one would watch for bears while the other pumped water. The mosquitoes were swarming and biting so much that evening, especially being nestled among lots of trees that it didn’t take us long to finish our supper and head inside our tents. However, the beauty of the glacier and the playfulness of our guide’s two Alaskan huskies did enjoyably delay our retreat enough to allow us some photos and smiles.
The next day, we headed to Pleasant Camp. After a breakfast of porridge and a hot drink of coffee, tea or hot chocolate, we continued our adventure through the rain forest. There were lots of creek crossings as we followed the banks of the Taiya River. This was a pleasant day with some easy and some fairly steep, yet short climbs. An area called The Rock Garden was a pleasant meadow with few trees and lots of small boulders, rolled to the side of the trail. A little further ahead, was Canyon City, a once thriving town servicing the thousands of miners on their way to Dawson. All that remains now are the foundations of a few buildings, a stove and some pots and pans, and the old boiler that powered the tramway. In 1898, you could save a lot of time and effort by using the tramway to get your goods over the pass for 7.5 cents a pound or $5 in today’s money. At this time, the trail to the boiler was blocked off at this time, due to a recent finding of a dead bear nearby, another reminder of the fierce realities of these woods. As we moved through the forest, we saw lots of Devil’s Club, a bush with huge leaves with thorns underneath, which made bushwhacking impossible. We crossed a suspension bridge near Pleasant Camp and soon arrived at Sheep Camp, where we rested for the night before the big climb.
After supper, the ranger gave us a briefing on what to expect the next day in weather and difficulties before reaching our next camp. Our guide, Stefan, asked us to keep our watches on Yukon time as opposed to Alaskan time, because it gained us an hour advantage. This allowed us an earlier start before the other groups, so that we could reach Happy Camp early enough to choose a site, as this camp was set high in the mountains with great views of the area. Happily, we all met early that morning, about 6:30 am and started our grueling 13 km hike up and over the mountain making our way across the border into Canada.
It was our longest but most memorable part of the hike. We had passed through an enchanting forest, a region of gnarled trees, twisted and pitted due to the excessive snowfalls that bury them under several meters each winter. We saw many gold rush era artifacts littering the trail as we begun to climb towards the Scales. Back then, after weeks of hauling a ton of goods up from Skagway, 50 kilos at a time, the miners of the Klondike Gold Rush began to toss aside the non-essentials. Surprisingly the Treeline Sign is surrounded by trees, demonstrating the weather was colder in 1898 than today. Not much further along, the last tree appears, and then disappears, and soon there is nothing but rock in all directions. This is where the avalanche that claimed the lives of many gold miners in the spring of 1898 occurred, and the victims are buried nearby.
For us at this time, the avalanche warning had been lifted, much to our relief. A little further and we arrived at the Scales, a plateau-like area where the Canadian Mounties weighed the goods of each person entering the Yukon to ensure they had their mandatory one ton of provisions before being allowed to continue. The trail goes almost vertical as we travel up the Golden Stairs. This is where the famous photos of the long lines of men and women bent over from their toil, were taken in 1898.
We climbed into fog which increasingly settled in throughout the entire ascent to the summit. It was ghost-like, which in itself easily directed our thoughts towards the past. As we neared the top, carefully placing our feet and hands over the boulders underfoot, the passage narrowed to sand-like loose gravel and rocks and I could see Luki, Stefan’s dog looking down at me through the fog, as if cheering me on with his smile and wagging tail as he stood beside the old cable. Below, I heard our Dutch friend scream as she slipped between the rocks sinking to her waste. Our Swiss friend quickly moved to her side and helped her up. She was frightened but all right. It was a technically tough climb, scrambling over and around large boulders, but we reached the top and crossed the border between Alaska and British Columbia, at over 1100 meters (3700 feet) above sea level.
At the summit, we were greeted by the Ranger who offered us some hot water for drinks in a nearby shelter. Our Swiss friends always carried a small bottle of Schnapps when they hiked, which they happily shared with us in celebration. After finishing off this little bottle that allowed each of us one delightful sip, we headed out into the fog again to start our descent. The air was cool, breezy and chilled me, especially with the damp clothes against my skin from sweating, despite wearing a raincoat; however, I soon warmed up as we continued.
Our trek brought us through spectacular views of glaciers and lakes, with crossings along the slants of melting snow-covered mountains, where one slip would land us into the lake. We continued to descend over snowfields, passing small lakes, creeks and rock outcrops to reach “Happy Camp” in the afternoon, about 4pm, a fitting name for our destination for the night.
That evening, another group was making their way to Happy Camp. It was only in the early hours of the morning when they arrived due to some unprepared hikers experiencing exhaustion. Because of the late hour, they decided not to set up their tents but to spend the remaining hours sleeping in the dining hut, so that morning, we had a bit of an obstacle course setting up our breakfast and finding a spot to eat. Once we had finished our breakfast, we moved on to make room for other groups coming in to eat.
We had a beautiful scenic hike to Lake Lindemann. The trek from Happy Camp to Lindeman is thought by many to be the best part of the trail. We had spectacular views with relatively flat ground. Deep Lake soon appeared, as we moved through sections of trees. The trail began to drop in elevation. We followed Moose Creek, as it tumbled down from Deep Lake to Lake Lindeman. This was our last night camping. After we had set up our tents, we took a walk over to the tent museum, passing a small cemetery that had some of the Klondikers buried there. There was a lake nearby with a beach. It was too cold to swim in but I couldn’t resist stepping into the water barefoot. It was cold yet soothing, a refreshing way to end the day before slipping into my tent for a good night’s sleep.
The next morning we set out for Bennett Lake, our final destination before catching our float plane back to Whitehorse. Our journey had passed all too fast and here we were nearing the end and I didn’t want it to end. With just one more day’s hike left, there was the feeling of accomplishment after having completed an arduous hike, yet a sadness that we would be leaving this beautiful area. There was still some beautiful scenery to be seen as we continued our trek, first to Bare Loon Lake and onwards to Lake Bennett. Some of the most stunning vistas in British Columbia were found here, overlooking Lake Bennett.
As we approached Bennett Lake, we could see glimpses of the old gold rush era church and rail station, all that remains of the community that once was home to over 15,000 people. As we were waiting for our float plane to arrive, we looked around at the old church and the station. Our Dutch friend was catching the train, so we said our farewells to her as she boarded. Her train pulled out and another train came in. We could see our plane flying in from a distance. We watched with fascination as the plane came down and landed smoothly on the water and motored itself to the dock. During that time, I looked back at the next train pulling out and saw its passengers glued to the windows with their cameras clicking. I understood their efforts to capture every moment on camera so that they could look at it again, especially when memories start to fade, a simple photo refreshed the memory of a special time in a special place.
We eagerly made our way to the dock and boarded our plane that carried at most 8 passengers. Our guide had to give Gravol to his dogs for the ride. We had a spectacular 45 minute flight to Whitehorse. The cameras were clicking and the videos recording as we flew over the river between mountains as the plane soared along the green-sided, snow-capped mountains, where at times you could spot a mountain goat.
Upon arriving at Whitehorse, we said our goodbyes, exchanged email addresses and eagerly settled into our hotel room for a hot shower and then dinner, happy to have good memories. I also had finished my antibiotics that day, which left a reminder on my face, a scab that formed from a skin reaction to the antibiotics, which I would refer to musingly as my “bear scar”. However, this too quickly disappeared and became only a memory, but I know I’ll always remember my time on the Chilcoot Trail and the beauty and splendour of both countries.
It has been while since my last post and much has happened since the Chilkoot Trail two years ago. Last year we hiked out west in the Rockies, covering the National Parks: Yoho, Baanff, Jasper and a quick journey through the Kootenays due to a mudslide on the highway we needed to travel, altering a half hour trip to our next destination, into a four-hour slog. The consolation was the spectacular scenery. We had ten full days of hiking different trail and the highlight being the hike into Berg Lake at the base of Mount Robson, the highest mountain in BC. We saw a black bear along the Jasper Highway, nibling the bulbs of the flowers outlining the highway. We didn't see any grizzlys but we certainly carried our bear spray just in case. Some people had large cow bells hanging from them as a means of announcing their presence in the area. The hostels were enjoyable, cozy and comfortable and the Stanley Mitchell Hut was exceptional, complete with woodstove and guitar. We returned to Calgary where we dropped off the rental, stayed one night in a hotel to clean up and celebrated our time with a wonderful supper at one of the local restaurants. Check out the beautiful p
hotos following this posting. 
