…almost seventy feet of snow fell on the summit of the Chilkoot that winter… —Pierre Berton, The Klondike Fever FIRST LIGHT AND FEAR jerked me awake at four-thirty. I woke Sharyn and Rhonda, thinking to get a really early start on the day, but Len’s group was up before us. The Belgians of course had…
Read more First light and fear jerked me awake at four-thirty.
What the HELL was I thinking? —entry from Happy Camp log, Chilkoot Trail I WASN’T GOING TO let anyone rush me. I wasn’t going to let me rush me. I was going to take it one foot at a time, one boulder at a time. I was going slow, I was going careful, I was…
I’M AN UNHAPPY CAMPER. Where I grew up, when you didn’t get your moose, you didn’t eat meat that winter. If you wanted meat to eat, you went hunting in Kamishak Bay. If you went hunting in Kamishak Bay, back before statehood, when Alaska was one gigantic national unPark, perforce, you went camping. In tents.…
THEIR OVERCOATS STEAMED in the red-hot glow of the tiny stove, the steam rising to form ice on the ceiling of the cramped canvas tent. After a day’s slogging up and down the pass, they were each man and woman among them soaked to the skin, but it was so cold no one was willing…