Well, I did peek out the curtains at 3:30AM, but it was
already too light if the aurora HAD been cranking, so much for that idea. Don’t know that I’d have been comfortable
padding outside in my sleep shirt anyway, so no tears. Woke up for the final time at 5:45, just
before the 6A wake-up call, and rolled Angie out at 6. Lots of competition at the buffet breakfast as
many of us were heading to an early land tour.
ANOTHER beautiful day!
We’re now worried that our names will be cursed forever when the “usual”
grey and wet weather returns … did we pack all the sunshine in OUR luggage?
We found our bus and had a slightly delayed departure due to
several reserved passengers being missing.
One family identified some of their group who were not coming, so we
were down to two AWOLs … finally the dispatcher gave us leave to leave without
them. As we had a whopping 2-minute ride
to the White Horse & Yukon Pass Railway train station, nothing was really
lost.
We were assigned to specific train cars on this narrow-gauge
railway (each is named after one of the thousands of rivers and lakes in the
Yukon), and become a bit worried that we’d be cold all day as they were not
heated. But once underway, the sun
poured through the windows and everyone was warm or even toasty. Many epic tales of how this railway was
constructed on sheer cliffs and through solid rock, and sad tales of the
desperate men who attempted to escape a depressed economy by hitting it rich in
the gold fields of the Klondike. A
particular example: at the Canadian
border, one had to have one ton – that’s 2,000 pounds – of food and provisions
plus a few hundred dollars in cash in order to cross. PER PERSON!
The motivation was somewhat honorable – Canadian authorities were
worried about mass starvation in the resource-poor Yukon region – but given a man
can only carry about 50# at a time, it could take months of trekking back and
forth to bring all that stuff up … and THEN proceed with it!
The railroad was developed in large part to capitalize on
this traffic, with the welcome side-effect of easing the journey
substantially. Because of the extreme
grades and sheer cliffs, the tracks are just a yard across, a very narrow-gauge
railway indeed. As we proceeded, we
found ourselves primarily on the rock-face side, affording us a close view of
myriad waterfalls and varied plant life.
Our guide in “The Misties” had emphasized that the deeper a crevice was
into a rock, the more opportunity for life there was. This ride certainly showed us the wide variety of
real-life opportunities which had – literally – taken root. In addition, there was constant flowing water
(the snow is melting quickly this season) … sometimes just bathing the rock
face, sometimes cascading down the cliff front, sometimes emerging directly
from the rock itself … quite impressive.
On the other side of the car, the view was down into a steep
river canyon or other sheer drop.
Or just thin air! Truthfully, we probably were better-sited and certainly we were not
tempted to distract ourselves trying to get photos that were better taken by a
pro. (We got THOSE a bit later in a DVD
and a book.) There were two fairly-short
but REALLY dark tunnels, and a couple of bridges which took us across rushing
rivers also fueled by snowmelt. At one
point we stopped briefly to let a couple of intrepid hikers step off to
continue their journey uphill by foot (amusingly, there were two helipads at
that point as well, many apparently helicopter up and continue on after that
chauffeur service!). As we continued to
climb, the vegetation thinned and finally almost disappeared. By now, we were surrounded by snow and frozen
lakes, though some flowing streams were eroding the ice. The trees were small and stunted, though we
were assured that many were older than the railway itself. Most had branches only on the lee side … the
fierce winter winds had blown off or totally stunted the branches to
windward. Lower branches survived better, protected by deep snow throughout the winter. The train pulled into our
final station as we crossed the Canadian border.
We were re-united with our charming bus driver & guide,
who took us further north to a suspension bridge hung over a raging “class 5”
rapids nearly 100 feet below. There were
many educational displays around, and the view down into the gorge was
beautiful and intimidating. Angie
trotted across the bridge and reviewed the settler’s cabin reconstruction … I
soaked up the education. We each enjoyed
a very good oatmeal-raisin cookie.
As everyone completed the activities that interested them,
we clambered back on the bus and headed back towards the USA. There were several photo opportunity stops,
one at the beginning of an avalanche area.
I spent some time studying the warning board which provided a standard
method for assessing the risks of the landscape and of the current snow
conditions before one wandered off into wilderness likely to do you in. If we were in any doubt that we were pretty
far from “civilization” or ANY form of help, this big placard surely brought
that message home…the closest location with anything like telephone service was
several miles behind us at the Canadian customs site, and no cell phone service
anywhere in the neighborhood.
There is a long stretch of road between the Canadian customs
site and the US site, a circumstance driven by the very limited “buildable”
land along this road. It’s a bit of a
no-man’s-land, and provided with pairs of high, horizontal indicators which show
snowplows where the road actually IS. The
ones on the right (as you face them) have a white bar over the edge of the
road, and a red bar on the left showing the beginning of the cliff (bad joke: white, you’re all right; red, you’re dead!). The backside (on the left one as you face a
pair) has red and yellow … the yellow tells the plow driver that s/he’s on the
wrong side of the road. They get some
pretty serious snow up here!
Mysteriously, there was a long and very slow line to pass US
Customs. We had ample opportunity to
view a seismometer which helps to track the earthquakes (not much too look at
really), and ask questions of the driver.
There was no explanation, of course, but eventually we were waved
through and on our way to the garden/glass-blowing studio and LUNCH! We saw and then went over the only
single-side-supported suspension bridge on the continent … the free side allows
the bridge to weather the frequent, small earthquakes that occur. Clever!
The driver had long ago called in to his dispatcher to
report the hold-up at customs, so our hostess knew we’d be late. Usually the garden tour is given first, but
she relented and served up a lovely lunch of celery soup, mixed-greens (some
grown and cut right there) and quiche, with an oaty bar with rhubarb sauce for
dessert. We enjoyed her special tea,
blended with rose leaves.
On to her pride and joy, the gardens. These were established during the Gold Rush;
she bought the site a decade or so back.
It’s certified organic, and has numerous interesting plantings as well
as the more-commercial vegetable garden.
Though she wore us out with all the Latin names, her love of the work
and the place shone through. She’s on
the final approach path to the airport, so the layout looks like huge flowers
when viewed from the air (Skagway styles itself as the garden city).
The glass-blowing studio creates many artful objects, both
useful and decorative. The glassblower
at work made a candy dish from a molten glob of glass, first creating a “bubble”
and then piercing it, gradually stretching that opening, and then using physics
to make it round (spin it for centrifugal force) and fluted (move it up and
down and let gravity make parts of the edge sag decoratively). It was quite remarkable to see it develop
right then and there.
The way out, of course, was through the gift shop, which had
many interesting items in addition to the glass work. Back on the bus, though! We debated doing some shopping in town, but
the list of places of interest stretched way too far and the walk back to the
ship seemed more than we were happy to undertake. True enough – the bus dropped us a couple
ship-lengths from the ship, and that long stroll was plenty for us. (We did resist the airport-style mega-golf-cart that was driving circuits between the ship and the drop point.)
We sat out in the breeze for a bit, as we had dressed in
layers but even so had been quite warm all day.
You can peel ‘em off, but you still have to carry them! Waiting for dinner, we met up with a mother/daughter pair with
whom we’d dined before, and enjoyed a wide-ranging conversation over a fine
dinner. Our waiter, who by now knew a
lot about us, produced an extra dessert of four tiny bites of wonderful things. Just lovely!
Now we have just set sail again, and we are looking forward
to NO ALARM CALL in the morning. The
next two days are at sea – Glacier Bay tomorrow, which definitely bears
watching, and College Fjord the day after.
We’ve enjoyed “The Misties” so we can spend more attention that day to
packing and prep for the land tour, as we are separated from our “checked bag”
size suitcase until we get to Fairbanks on Saturday. Oh, yeah, and laundry. Hard to believe we’re counting down already,
though it’s certainly possible the best is yet to come as we trek northeast to
McKinley and Denali in a few days.
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