the miner's life

Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! screamed the headlines of the newspapers of 1897 and thousands of people from around the world made the long journey from Seattle to Dawson City to find and make their fortune. Those people, those determined dreamers we called the miners, made most of their journey on boats, only 33 miles of the route to Dawson did they have to do on foot, over the Chilkoot trail. This they did, with the required "ton" (roughly 1,500 pounds) of gear required by the Canadian government, during the gold rush years of 1897-1899. Miners, incidentally, were not the first to travel the Chilkoot terrain, native populations of Alaska and Canada had used the route for centuries to trade. The primary groups of the area were the Chilkats (belonging to the Tlingit nation of Alaska) and other groups living along the Yukon River.

I found out I would be making the same trip over the Chilkoot with my stepdad and a friend of ours four days before their expected departure date. The news came to me through a text from my mom, one I received while both recovering from a flu bug and visiting my grandparents at their home in Wasilla. "Sure, I'll go" I replied to my mom. They had arranged for three people to go on the trail, and when one in our party cancelled, I was elected to go instead. I had wanted to before, once I knew the trip was planned, but I knew that only three could go, it would be too difficult to change the plans. So I was excited to go, though there was no time for me to do any research (or any physical preparations), I really had no idea what I was getting into. This was how it was each day of the hike. But hey, I like surprises, and I figured it would be more authentic, cause the miners wouldn't have known much about what they were getting into either.

Leaving the house in Anchorage on a Saturday, we arrived in Skagway Alaska the next day with one overnight stop. We had the day to prepare our packs and ready them to begin our hike Monday morning. I didn't have to carry as many as 100 pounds, let alone 1,000. With all my gear (which, naturally, included a book) and some communal gear for our trio, my pack was roughly 25 pounds (a good amount for someone of my size). The miners, making the same trip, would have to make multiple trips from one camp along the trail to the next, dropping off some of their gear to go back and get the rest and so on. Many traveled with partners, one to guard stuff while the other retrieved more. The "ton of goods" was the amount that the Canadian guards, the mounties, decreed were suitable for health and mining purposes for one year and those with less than that amount with them at the border crossing were sent back to Skagway. To help them, some miners hired native "packers" who would help carry stuff for a dollar a pound. Occasionally, however, another miner would come along and offer the packers more money per pound, so the packer would drop whatever they carried and leave it to accept the new offer.

Monday, before we left Skagway, we listened to a talk given by a Park Service Representative about the trail. They gave safety tips, a map of the trail, and other relevant information. Then it was into the shuttle to get to the old townsite of Dyea (there is no longer a town there) and the Chilkoot Trail Head. After pictures at the start, we headed off down the trail. We had four or five miles to go to get to our first stop, Canyon City. The trail was gorgeous, but the weather was super super hot. We stopped for short breaks to drink water (and to rest in the shade or by rivers) and I was slathered in sunblock and bug dope. Surprisingly, out of all the people who were at the trailhead when we were, our small and tired group got to Canyon City camp ground first. Setting up the tent was easy, and then we were off to explore. During the gold rush, a horse and wagon team hauled a huge boiler up to Canyon city, a remarkable feat. The boiler, used to power a tram that the more wealthy miners would use to haul their goods, is very rusted now but is still there where it was, though the park rangers said it is slowly sinking, and they are trying to find a way to keep if from doing so. Canyon City, during the rush, grew fast with houses and hotels being built, but in less than a year after its heyday it was deserted, once the train rails were laid and walking to the Klondike was less common.

Tuesday was also a short distance day, from Canyon City to Sheep Camp. It was even hotter that day, and the bugs equally as bad as the day before, but I decided the bugs were the lesser of two evils and backpacked with less gear on than I had started with. The last couple miles to Sheep Camp were the most difficult. Arriving at Sheep Camp was less of a relief than I was expecting. Sure it was great to drop the packs and chat with the other hikers, but it was SO buggy....really hard to take. But we stayed inside the cooking cabins and tents and things got better. A ranger was established in a cabin at Sheep Camp, she came in the evening to talk about the trail and the gold rush. One of the most noteworthy things she spoke about was how little thievery was tolerated. I kind of thought it would be everywhere, but she spoke of one instance where a man was caught stealing and publicly punished before losing all his things. It was not tolerated then. It did not occur at all while we were there.

Wednesday. The hardest day. Not distance wise, but difficulty wise. For this was the day that we were to climb the mountain, and ascend Chilkoot Pass. Rangers advised that we wake up and be ready to leave camp by 4:30 am in case of an avalanche. So we did. Before getting to the mountains at all, we had Long Hill, four miles of uphill to climb, with one nerve wracking water crossing. The weather was foggy and wet. Once we got up Long Hill, it got snowy. Those we spoke to with Chilkoot experience advised us to, when crossing snow, to avoid rocks that absorb heat and melt the snow around them, making it easier to fall through. We avoided rocks and no one fell through, or down at this point. The wet weather continued as we went farther. The Scales is the area at the base of the mountain. This is where miners would have their goods weighed, where they would leave behind anything that they didn't need. There were lots of cool relics to see. Beyond the Scales is the Pass, and area called the Golden Stairs. In the winter, they would carve steps into the snow, hence the stairs name. We were hiking in the last week of June, there was some snow but not enough for stairs. Most of our climb was over rock, and it was very wet and misty while we climbed. I didn't look down or up as I climbed with my pack (don't lean back!) just right in front of me. I sang, I joked, and I also did some swearing. At this point, there wasn't much of a "trail" instead it was more of a route. On the Alaska side we followed tall orange pipes to keep our way. The Canadian side had smaller orange flags. Once we made it to the top of the mountain, I was very tired. We still had maybe four hours to our next stop, Happy Camp. Somehow, I did it. As I walked, I thought of the miners, how they could do what they did...it is amazing what greed, or maybe hope, will do to a person.

Happy Camp was a nice place. Well, still snowy and wet, but nice. The miners weren't so happy. In the cook cabin there, there was a large sign on the wall with a blurb and photos. A quote from one miner was quoted, who despaired over the one tent and small meal he received there. There was no real need that Wednesday, to worry about avalanches. Still, we thought it best not to take chances. Though we only had about seven miles to go, it was rough terrain and we did not make it to Happy Camp until around three in the afternoon. It was a LONG day.

Thursday was my favorite day. I woke up feeling like after Wednesday, I could handle anything the trail dished out. I was also eager to leave the snow and wet behind. Once it cleared up along the trail, it was more and more gorgeous. Some of it, I thought, was like being in the Scottish Highlands. I haven't been to Scotland, but I think Scotland would look like that. So, so pretty. Thursday we had nine miles to walk, but quite an easier terrain. We stopped for lunch at Lindeman City (six miles into our day's hike), not much of a city anymore, but a nice campground, and an area only reachable by walking the Chilkoot. There was a cemetery there, with surprisingly new grave stones. Also a museum of sorts, with old photos and miner's recollections. There we found sheets of paper that served as self-made certificates, ones that proved we had hiked the Chilkoot. Our camping that night was done at Bare Lune Lake, which some say got its name due to both the birds that live there and the people that swim there....with or without their clothing. I did not swim. The cook area there was nice, it had open walls.

Friday was the last day we had, and we only had four miles left. There was no hurry, it didn't take us long to go the four miles, and the train at Lake Bennett would not come for us until two that afternoon. Friday's trail had us walking through some sand...not easy, but it was not a long stretch. Bennett has the only remaining building from the 1890s. A church, called St. Andrews. The inside is no longer open to the public, but the old building still made for some nice photos. The train station at Bennett was a nice place. They gave us a meal (well, we paid for it, but still) of beef stew and apple pie and bread and coffee, pretty authentic I think. I ate a LOT of food. The train ride back to Skagway was pleasant. I did a lot of reflecting on the changes from the gold rush days to what things are like now.

We had dinner in Skagway and stayed there Friday night, to head back to Anchorage Saturday. Again, I ate quite a bit. After all that exercise, I was pretty hungry. We made it back to Anchorage by Sunday. We showed pictures from the trail to my mom. And I slept very well that night.

The Chilkoot Trail was spectacular, and probably the most dangerous thing I have ever done. Especially Wednesday, there were many times that day I thought I wouldn't make it out of there. Even with no training, I am very glad I went. Along with the memories, I have the tactical mementos of both my trail certificate, a t-shirt from Carcross, Yukon Territory, and, of course, some fantastic photos.

Thanks to the U.S. and Canada Park Service Representatives for their historical information, as well as Archie Satterfield's guide the the Chilkoot Pass for the facts I learned.