Alaska Trip Diary 2016 Day 7: Skagway
BE WARNED: This entry contains an absolute shitload of pictures, as this was the most beautiful excursion of my entire trip. Links to the websites of some of the locations I visited and the vendors I used (and recommend) are included throughout this journal entry.
Day 1 (Saturday, May 28): Chicago O'Hell
Day 2 (Sunday, May 29): Vancouver, Better Late Than Never
Day 3 (Monday, May 30): Embarkation Day!
Day 4 (Tuesday, May 31): Sea Day
Day 5 (Wednesday, June 1): Ketchikan, Alaska
Day 6 (Thursday, June 2): Juneau, Alaska
Friday, June 3, 2016: Skagway
Today got off to a rather rough start, since my tour with Chilkoot Charters was supposed to gather at 7:20. I would be taking the White Pass & Yukon Route Railroad into Fraser, British Columbia, then boarding a bus into the Yukon for Caribou Crossing, where we’d be fed a barbecue lunch and take a dog cart ride, then return to Skagway on the bus.
All seemed well at first. I was up at six, we were docked around 6:45, and I was in line ten minutes later. However, for whatever reason, they didn’t let us off the ship until after 7:30, which once again was an issue for those of us who had tours starting early. Waiting got very stressful, though I was reassured once I called Chilkoot Charters, since they told me that they and even the railroad itself would wait when a ship was late arriving, and the train wasn’t due to actually leave until 8 am. Still, I hustled once they let us out and didn’t get to enjoy the scenery around the pier like I usually did.
One picture I did snap on my hustle to the end of the dock. We were sharing the pier today with the Carnival Legend.
A former church, currently the Skagway Museum that I noticed on the drive to the depot.
It was rainy with low clouds, and along with actually making my tour, I dearly hoped that the clouds would lift enough to actually see the tops of the peaks. I was pretty sure the mountains here were the highest I’d seen yet.
The little stove in the car actually was lit! (I'm assuming with gas.) After coming in from the platform taking pictures of the scenery in the chilly, rainy wind, it was a nice spot to warm up.
We were a small group in the last carriage of our train, and could move around freely. The carriage was trimmed with wood that creaked and rattled a lot, but the ride was smooth.
The scenery. Ye gods, the scenery. No amount of photographs can capture it. So when our narrator guide announced a combo deal of a DVD and a few other souvenir items, I jumped on it. Hoping to tempt Mum and Da to come out here - the bird watching alone is one hell of a draw!
Leaving Skagway.
Along one of many small creeks off the Skagway River, which the route follows into Canada.
At the speed we were traveling, only a handful of pictures I took came out.
The Coast Mountains north of Skagway
The river winding its way below the mountains.
There are places just outside Skagway here for tourists to pan for gold, but they're salted - gold was never found in Skagway itself.
One of my favorite shots back in Skagway as the railroad wound into the mounta - you can just see our two cruise ships on the left in the Taiya Inlet.
Bridal Veil Falls passing under the Klondike Highway across one of the gorges where the train passed.
We rode along and over the river and above some incredible rapids, including areas never successfully navigated by kayakers or rafters, though parts of the Skagway River are popular for water sports. We observed that maybe one of us should try, as the prize would probably be a lot of media attention - then again, the prize for failing would be a Darwin award. Waterfalls tumbled past and under the rails, and rock formations of such incredible color and shape seemed to have been designed in another world.
This was a cool bit of history. From the 1920s until the Great Depression, philanthropist George Buchanan sponsored groups of young boys (he eventually included girls too starting in 1935) on excursions from Vancouver into the Skagway area. The sign here was painted by a group who returned years after Buchanan died for a reunion.
The train ahead of us winding its way around the mountains.
The river rapids passing below us. I think this was the whirlpool area that no kayaker has ever successfully navigated.
The mountains and their wreath of clouds.
Looking back through the valley behind us.
As we climbed higher into White Pass, thick forest turned to firs and spruce and very little undergrowth on the rocks. This whole region was once beneath a massive glacial ice sheet.
Approaching one of several tunnels on the trip. This was Tunnel Mountain on the edge of Glacier Gorge.
The view below the bridge on the way into the tunnels: Glacier Gorge.
Looking up the mountainside above the tracks, where even trees hadn't gained a foothold anymore, and it was all mosses and scrubby plants.
The river narrowing through the gorges. This was roughly the location of Dead Horse Gulch, where an estimated 3,000 pack animals died of maltreatment, starvation (and according to some, flat-out suicide) as they were driven by stampeders carrying a ton of supplies each up over the mountains.
Approaching the summit of White Pass, with more snow on the ground and fewer trees. This was roughly the area of Inspiration Point, where photographers took pictures of the White Pass during the gold rush.
Fortunately, this was NOT part of the railroad we crossed. I believe this was part of the bridge constructed in 1901, used until 1969. At the time it was build, it was the tallest cantilevered bridge in the world.
Approaching the last tunnel before the summit.
I was out on the platform as we passed through this pitch-dark tunnel, which was a tad unnerving. But it made for some really cool photos!
Glacial creeks atop the mountains.
There were two routes from Skagway to the Klondike Gold Fields in 1898 - the Chilkoot Trail, which was higher and steeper and so had to be passed only on foot, and White Pass. White Pass was considered relative easier (VERY relatively, since it was still subject to intense climbing and brutally cold weather), since pack animals could be used to carry stampeders' gear. The railroad was completed through it around 1899 - ironically, just in time for the Klondike Gold Rush to end.
I had my jacket and gloves, and wished I’d brought my hat whenever I was on the open air platform taking pictures - it was quite cold up there! I frequently saw birds in the marshes on the summit, but we passed by too fast to identify them.
Approaching the official Alaska/British Columbia border.
The official summit.
There's a significance to the five flags just before customs, but I can't remember what it was.
The water in the glacial ponds and lakes on the summit was crystal clear.
There were lots of birds, especially swallows dipping and diving above the water.
Few pictures can capture how beautiful this place is.
All that remains of the glacial ice sheet that once covered this entire region.
The mossy plant life that is the first vegetation to grow at this altitude after the glaciers retreated.
Bears, deer, and caribou are a common sight here, but we didn't have any sightings today.
As we descended towards Fraser, the barren rocky terrain gave way to marshy grassland and still more birds.
The pole on the far right is all that remains of the telegraph lines that once ran between Skagway and Dawson City.
Part of Summit Lake, one of the bigger lake/creek chains approaching Fraser.
The water formed rapids again flowing down the mountains.
Did I mention there were multiple times on this ride that the scenery was so beautiful it made you want to cry?
It was also very cold.
Arriving in Fraser. The railroad goes on all the way to Carcross, but we were disembarking (is that the right word for leaving a train?) here to take a bus the remainder of the way on Klondike Highway.
As we pulled into Frasier, British Columbia for the Canadian border patrol to check passports, we were alongside a beautiful glacial lake - MOOSE! He had his back to us as he foraged near the water. We were supposed to be putting our cameras away, but instead everybody dove for the windows. My shots probably resemble the average Bigfoot image, since he was some distance away, but unmistakable.
Fraser Station Building and waterhouse. After our passports were cleared, we piled off the train and reunited with our driver for the remainder of the trip (he’d also shuttled us from the pier to the depot in Skagway).
Almost directly between the last big first tree on the waterline and the left edge of the frame, directly below a snowpatch, you'll say a brownish spot on the green grass. No, that's not a Yeti, it's a moose.
That's not a Yeti either. Just another 'murican tourist wearing a lot of layers.
Bernard Lake, part of a chain of lakes and rivers that runs all through the white pass.
Bernard Lake and the heartbreakingly beautiful mountains behind it.
Along the Klondike Highway for a photo stop. This was either another angle of Bernard Lake, or maybe Shallow Lake, a little further down the chain.
The Klondike Highway winds along more mountains with spectacular valleys and fjords in between.
It crosses the White Pass & Yukon Route Railroad several times along the way.
Beautiful lupine (ish) and yellow wildflowers along the tracks and road.
The scenery grew even more beautiful (how was that even possible?) and before long we had our crown jewel: a mother black bear and two cubs foraging alongside the road. They weren’t at all concerned with the multiple tourist buses who stopped to check them out, our cameras clicking away from the windows. (There were the inevitable jokes that somebody should get off the bus to pet the bears, but fortunately there were no takers.) I got some great pictures. A few miles from our first photostop came a sudden one - thar's bars! A mother black bear and her two cubs were foraging right along the highway, completely unconcerned with us humans.
A few minutes down we found a lone male bear sporting terrible facial injuries from a recent fight. He looked like he’d lost an eye and seemed edgy, so we moved on fairly quickly.
We did a photo stop along the shores of Tutshi Lake.
This was one of the few beaches and camping grounds in the area. It's a huge lake, with shoreline covering hundreds of miles, almost entirely undeveloped since the gold rush. Despite its beauty, its remoteness means that it doesn't attract a lot of recreational traffic apart from stops by passing tourists on the Klondike Highway - like us.
Looking out from the shore onto Tutshi Lake. We saw a grand total of three boats despite driving along this lake for 20-30 miles.
The road leading back up to the mountains and the camp ground.
The mountains along the opposite shore. The lake and adjoining rivers narrow here before flowing into Tagish Lake along the Yukon-British Columbia Border.
Our driver kindly took a lot of pictures of us passengers in our various photo stops.
Back on the road looking out over the widening lake (or this may have been Tagish Lake by now).
The clouds rolled back in as we headed on towards Carcross. The lakes (fjords?) we passed were narrow and sometimes hundreds of miles long, according to our driver. He told us that it was possible to navigate them and the connecting rivers all the way to the Bering Sea if you had about a year of free time.
Looking up the mountain slopes.
Approaching the Yukon/British Columbia border along Tagish Lake.
The beautiful Coast Mountains.
More than a few of us were amused at the differing style of signs for the provinces we were entering and leaving.
The remains of a copper mining dredge along Tagish Lake.
I *think* this was tailings also from a now-closed copper mine.
Bove Island.
Crossing one of the last wooden bridges in Canada.
We stopped briefly in the tiny village of Carcross, the endpoint of the rail line, then went on to Caribou Crossing for our barbecue lunch and dog cart excursion.
The story goes that the owners of Caribou Crossing were having a barbecue at their home when a Holland America tour bus broke down, and they invited the dozen stranded tourists to join them, which made the wait for a replacement bus a lot more bearable. A few Holland America executives heard of this from the grateful travelers and visited to thank them, and suggested they make it a business, given the strategic location on the long scenic drive through the Yukon on the highway. One of the owners was a taxidermist, and now his work fills the wildlife museum at the site. They made a killing and retired a few years bac, and the place still grows in popularity. It now hosts a petting zoo, a wildlife museum and Mountie museum, the musher’s camp, an ice cream parlor, and a few other businesses.
I was so proud of myself for spotting these mountain goats - turns out they were fake.
We had a wonderful lunch of barbecued chicken, baked potatoes, fresh rolls, and their signature sugar-cinnamon donuts. They sold coke products as well, a welcome respite from Norwegian Cruise Line’s repulsive monopoly of Pepsi-filth. (Shudder!) I had time to wander both museums and the gift shops, the petting zoos, and snuggle husky puppies before my 12:15 pm dog cart ride.
Well, okay, then!
Mama, watching as we snuggled her pups.
PUPPY! Much jokes were made about checking to ensure no one on our tour was smuggling any of said puppies in their carry-ons back to the ship. Then we learned from visitors to another mushers' camp in the region that some dipshits had actually tried it once! They made it all the way back to the ship, where fortunately, the security stop before re-boarding caught them (before they put the poor puppy through the x-ray machine!) Puppy in question was returned to his home and reunited with his mom, and I can only hope the tourists in question had their asses tossed into jail. What dirtbags!
Most of the dogs ("Alaskan huskies" - basically mixed breeds of all varieties) were lined up for cart-pulling duties, but a few were on breaks and available to receive treats and scritchies.
Busch Gardens has nothing on this! We had happy, bouncy puppies (dogs) of all colors, eleven in all. Our musher told us that they used an odd number, and so, a middle dog had no partner because he didn’t always behave. I concluded that he does not dog well with others. It was rough and bumpy and swerving over rocks and roots, since we were on wheels over dirt and rock instead of sled runners over snow. We were told sledding is far smoother, but it was still awesome. All we could really do was hang on tight and laugh our heads off.
The alpalcas, whose fur had just been trimmed.
The goats,, who were happy to beg for treats.
The miniature horses, who had no damns to give.
The pygmy goats, who were uninterested once they determined that I had no treats for them.
The sun was out when we reboarded the bus, so our driver took us up to Emerald Lake for a few more pictures.
He had us guess what caused the color in the water - I guessed copper, since it’s mined nearby, but he said it’s calcium carbonate.
The north shore of Emerald Lake.
Facing south.
We returned to Carcross for a few more photo ops, then we got to guess what the purpose was of the very long rec center building. My first guess, hockey, was wrong, but I got it on the second guess: curling! Heh! Our driver compared curling to watching grass grow, and I couldn’t tell him to think of it as a sexual metaphor because there were kids on the bus.
The White Pass Railway Bridge between Nares and Bennett Lake, site of the death of Dawson Charlie aka Tagish Charlie, one of the discoverers of gold on Bonanza Creek which led to the 1898 Klondike Gold Rush. Charlie died when he fell off the bridge while drunk in 1908.
Facing Bennett Lake from one of the bridges.
Facing back toward Nares Lake.
The view from the bridge.
Bennett Lake.
The Carcross rail depot, endpoint of the White Pass & Yukon Route railroad.
The wild streets of Carcross. It was originally called Caribou Crossing, but its name was changed at the behest of a local bishop, who had trouble receiving his mail due to the number of other locales in Canada called "Caribou Crossing."
Heading back out of Carcross along Tagish Lake.
We saw One-Eyed Bear again on the return trip and got a photo op close to Bridal Veil Falls, which we’d seen across the canyon from the train. Our driver explained hanging glaciers that covered many peaks and that the softly rounded peaks had once been entirely covered by ice, while the sharp peaks would have protruded out of the ice during the past ice ages. Yellowish lichen is the first “plant” vegetation that takes hold after glaciers retreat, followed by other plants.
The rain started up again when we returned to Skagway, but the clouds were higher, letting us see the sheer height of the surrounding mountains. I’m pretty sure these were some of the highest I’ve seen as an adult.
Crossing back into Alaska.
The Bicentennial plaque for Klondike Highway.
Gazing south over the Skagway River gorge between the mountains.
The mountains of the pass with hanging glaciers still visible among their peaks.
A suspension bridge with a unique design intended to withstand earthquakes. We decided we did not care to be the ones to test it in action.
Bridal Veil Falls up close.
You can't really see it in this shot, but the railroad wound around the mountain on the left, which we had traveled over this morning, seeing Bridal Veil Falls from the opposite side of this valley. We were now standing with our backs to the falls.
Yet another beautiful waterfall (dunno what its name was) tumbling down into the Skagway River from up in the mountains.
Back in Skagway, I was among those who opted to be dropped off in the center of town rather than back at the pier, though the ship was only about a ¾ mile walk. I had four hours until all-aboard, so I ambled among the historic buildings, went into the small museums that were open, shopped and took pictures.
Oh, and buying a slab of fudge, because I’m weak. The rain got heavy at one point, and I discovered I’d left my umbrella on the ship, so I bought another one for about $3. It wasn’t very well-made, but it kept me reasonably dry for the afternoon.
According to our driver, even small houses in Skagway approach $1M. Real estate is at a premium even in such a small town.
Beautiful flowering shrubs and daylilies in gardens.
The centennial park near the depot.
One of the trains preparing to depart.
The Skagway Bicentennial Statue.
Gazing south from the park across the Taiya Inlet at the mountains. On the other side of those mountains is Dyea, another starting point for the 1898 stampeders.
One of the antique engines.
Wildflowers.
This may have been yet another variety of dogwood, but its blossoms were tiny.
Pullen Creek, a lovely walk I discovered just wandering the town.
Sadly, it was the wrong time of year to actually see salmon in the creek.
This was a "hike" that I was actually in shape to do!
Looking back at Skagway from Pullen Creek Park.
Looking UP from Pullen Creek Park. It rained on and off all afternoon, but the clouds moved fast and gave me a glimpse of the peaks surrounding the town.
Wandering back toward the ship.
Not sure what this tree/shrub was, but it came in multiple colors and reminded me a little of our southern crepe myrtles.
More lupine-ish flowers in beds along the road back to the pier.
The harbor heading back to the ships.
Home sweet ship.
Looking northwest from the pier.
The cargo docks opposite the cruise ship pier.
I probably put another mile or two in just weaving up and down Skagway’s streets, ogling mountains and gradually making my way back to the ship. None of the local restaurants tempted me, so I decided I’d save money and eat on the ship.
Re-boarded around 6 pm to the Atrium dance party rocking out to Taylor Swift and hauled my acquisitions to my cabin before heading down to Seven Seas main dining room for dinner. Tonight I ate conservative, and it paid off. The galley got spaghetti Bolognese perfect, as well as chicken Caesar salad. I tried a chocolate crepe with nougat crème for dessert. Yummy, though I scraped off the mandarin and raspberry sauces (I have an aversion to fruit sauces on chocolate.)
Then up to the upper decks to write today’s chronicle and watch sail away. Fog, clouds, and rain shrouded the fjord once again as we prepared to leave.
Sailing back down Taiya Inlet toward Lynn Canal.
I decided today was my favorite excursion, though Juneau had been my favorite port.
I still hadn’t figured out how to get to the Observation Lounge without crossing the pool deck, and we were already under way when I started - shiiiiit! I’ve always wondered what hurricane force winds feel like! The bridge report always gave the “actual wind speed” and “apparent wind speed” - the latter means how the wind feels when the ship’s speed and direction is factored in. Sometimes a “fresh breeze” becomes a “moderate gale” if we’re moving in the right direction. Dunno what this was, but it was damn near enough to knock me over! The Observation Deck outside the lounge was closed “due to strong winds” - yep, noticed! Couldn’t very well argue with that.
However, inside the Lounge, the jazz band performing tonight was a vast improvement over last night’s entertainers, and the view of the mountains was beautiful enough for me to park myself for a while and just relax. A couple even got up and danced.
The wind was whipping white caps up on the Taiya Inlet, and the clouds were clearing near its mouth like the exit from a tunnel made of shadowy mountains. The huge white peaks seemed to glow when the sun hit them.
Observation: NCL still mixes drink strong enough to kill me. Three sips ended my one attempt at consuming a ridiculously-overpriced cocktail. It also tasted nasty (pisco punch).
The skies cleared as the inlet opened up, and the mountains on the starboard side rose up in dark and white pyramids. Waterfalls cascaded down into the ocean from the port side, close enough even for my dinky little iPhone, since I’d left my new camera charging in my cabin. Sadly, we were turning to port, so I soon lost sight of the peaks with their snowy crags.
Instead we sailed back into the fog, and I watched it rolling over the green, lower peaks closest to us until it was too dim and hazy to see anymore.
Day 1 (Saturday, May 28): Chicago O'Hell
Day 2 (Sunday, May 29): Vancouver, Better Late Than Never
Day 3 (Monday, May 30): Embarkation Day!
Day 4 (Tuesday, May 31): Sea Day
Day 5 (Wednesday, June 1): Ketchikan, Alaska
Day 6 (Thursday, June 2): Juneau, Alaska
Friday, June 3, 2016: Skagway
Today got off to a rather rough start, since my tour with Chilkoot Charters was supposed to gather at 7:20. I would be taking the White Pass & Yukon Route Railroad into Fraser, British Columbia, then boarding a bus into the Yukon for Caribou Crossing, where we’d be fed a barbecue lunch and take a dog cart ride, then return to Skagway on the bus.
All seemed well at first. I was up at six, we were docked around 6:45, and I was in line ten minutes later. However, for whatever reason, they didn’t let us off the ship until after 7:30, which once again was an issue for those of us who had tours starting early. Waiting got very stressful, though I was reassured once I called Chilkoot Charters, since they told me that they and even the railroad itself would wait when a ship was late arriving, and the train wasn’t due to actually leave until 8 am. Still, I hustled once they let us out and didn’t get to enjoy the scenery around the pier like I usually did.
One picture I did snap on my hustle to the end of the dock. We were sharing the pier today with the Carnival Legend.
A former church, currently the Skagway Museum that I noticed on the drive to the depot.
It was rainy with low clouds, and along with actually making my tour, I dearly hoped that the clouds would lift enough to actually see the tops of the peaks. I was pretty sure the mountains here were the highest I’d seen yet.
The little stove in the car actually was lit! (I'm assuming with gas.) After coming in from the platform taking pictures of the scenery in the chilly, rainy wind, it was a nice spot to warm up.
We were a small group in the last carriage of our train, and could move around freely. The carriage was trimmed with wood that creaked and rattled a lot, but the ride was smooth.
The scenery. Ye gods, the scenery. No amount of photographs can capture it. So when our narrator guide announced a combo deal of a DVD and a few other souvenir items, I jumped on it. Hoping to tempt Mum and Da to come out here - the bird watching alone is one hell of a draw!
Leaving Skagway.
Along one of many small creeks off the Skagway River, which the route follows into Canada.
At the speed we were traveling, only a handful of pictures I took came out.
The Coast Mountains north of Skagway
The river winding its way below the mountains.
There are places just outside Skagway here for tourists to pan for gold, but they're salted - gold was never found in Skagway itself.
One of my favorite shots back in Skagway as the railroad wound into the mounta - you can just see our two cruise ships on the left in the Taiya Inlet.
Bridal Veil Falls passing under the Klondike Highway across one of the gorges where the train passed.
We rode along and over the river and above some incredible rapids, including areas never successfully navigated by kayakers or rafters, though parts of the Skagway River are popular for water sports. We observed that maybe one of us should try, as the prize would probably be a lot of media attention - then again, the prize for failing would be a Darwin award. Waterfalls tumbled past and under the rails, and rock formations of such incredible color and shape seemed to have been designed in another world.
This was a cool bit of history. From the 1920s until the Great Depression, philanthropist George Buchanan sponsored groups of young boys (he eventually included girls too starting in 1935) on excursions from Vancouver into the Skagway area. The sign here was painted by a group who returned years after Buchanan died for a reunion.
The train ahead of us winding its way around the mountains.
The river rapids passing below us. I think this was the whirlpool area that no kayaker has ever successfully navigated.
The mountains and their wreath of clouds.
Looking back through the valley behind us.
As we climbed higher into White Pass, thick forest turned to firs and spruce and very little undergrowth on the rocks. This whole region was once beneath a massive glacial ice sheet.
Approaching one of several tunnels on the trip. This was Tunnel Mountain on the edge of Glacier Gorge.
The view below the bridge on the way into the tunnels: Glacier Gorge.
Looking up the mountainside above the tracks, where even trees hadn't gained a foothold anymore, and it was all mosses and scrubby plants.
The river narrowing through the gorges. This was roughly the location of Dead Horse Gulch, where an estimated 3,000 pack animals died of maltreatment, starvation (and according to some, flat-out suicide) as they were driven by stampeders carrying a ton of supplies each up over the mountains.
Approaching the summit of White Pass, with more snow on the ground and fewer trees. This was roughly the area of Inspiration Point, where photographers took pictures of the White Pass during the gold rush.
Fortunately, this was NOT part of the railroad we crossed. I believe this was part of the bridge constructed in 1901, used until 1969. At the time it was build, it was the tallest cantilevered bridge in the world.
Approaching the last tunnel before the summit.
I was out on the platform as we passed through this pitch-dark tunnel, which was a tad unnerving. But it made for some really cool photos!
Glacial creeks atop the mountains.
There were two routes from Skagway to the Klondike Gold Fields in 1898 - the Chilkoot Trail, which was higher and steeper and so had to be passed only on foot, and White Pass. White Pass was considered relative easier (VERY relatively, since it was still subject to intense climbing and brutally cold weather), since pack animals could be used to carry stampeders' gear. The railroad was completed through it around 1899 - ironically, just in time for the Klondike Gold Rush to end.
I had my jacket and gloves, and wished I’d brought my hat whenever I was on the open air platform taking pictures - it was quite cold up there! I frequently saw birds in the marshes on the summit, but we passed by too fast to identify them.
Approaching the official Alaska/British Columbia border.
The official summit.
There's a significance to the five flags just before customs, but I can't remember what it was.
The water in the glacial ponds and lakes on the summit was crystal clear.
There were lots of birds, especially swallows dipping and diving above the water.
Few pictures can capture how beautiful this place is.
All that remains of the glacial ice sheet that once covered this entire region.
The mossy plant life that is the first vegetation to grow at this altitude after the glaciers retreated.
Bears, deer, and caribou are a common sight here, but we didn't have any sightings today.
As we descended towards Fraser, the barren rocky terrain gave way to marshy grassland and still more birds.
The pole on the far right is all that remains of the telegraph lines that once ran between Skagway and Dawson City.
Part of Summit Lake, one of the bigger lake/creek chains approaching Fraser.
The water formed rapids again flowing down the mountains.
Did I mention there were multiple times on this ride that the scenery was so beautiful it made you want to cry?
It was also very cold.
Arriving in Fraser. The railroad goes on all the way to Carcross, but we were disembarking (is that the right word for leaving a train?) here to take a bus the remainder of the way on Klondike Highway.
As we pulled into Frasier, British Columbia for the Canadian border patrol to check passports, we were alongside a beautiful glacial lake - MOOSE! He had his back to us as he foraged near the water. We were supposed to be putting our cameras away, but instead everybody dove for the windows. My shots probably resemble the average Bigfoot image, since he was some distance away, but unmistakable.
Fraser Station Building and waterhouse. After our passports were cleared, we piled off the train and reunited with our driver for the remainder of the trip (he’d also shuttled us from the pier to the depot in Skagway).
Almost directly between the last big first tree on the waterline and the left edge of the frame, directly below a snowpatch, you'll say a brownish spot on the green grass. No, that's not a Yeti, it's a moose.
That's not a Yeti either. Just another 'murican tourist wearing a lot of layers.
Bernard Lake, part of a chain of lakes and rivers that runs all through the white pass.
Bernard Lake and the heartbreakingly beautiful mountains behind it.
Along the Klondike Highway for a photo stop. This was either another angle of Bernard Lake, or maybe Shallow Lake, a little further down the chain.
The Klondike Highway winds along more mountains with spectacular valleys and fjords in between.
It crosses the White Pass & Yukon Route Railroad several times along the way.
Beautiful lupine (ish) and yellow wildflowers along the tracks and road.
The scenery grew even more beautiful (how was that even possible?) and before long we had our crown jewel: a mother black bear and two cubs foraging alongside the road. They weren’t at all concerned with the multiple tourist buses who stopped to check them out, our cameras clicking away from the windows. (There were the inevitable jokes that somebody should get off the bus to pet the bears, but fortunately there were no takers.) I got some great pictures. A few miles from our first photostop came a sudden one - thar's bars! A mother black bear and her two cubs were foraging right along the highway, completely unconcerned with us humans.
A few minutes down we found a lone male bear sporting terrible facial injuries from a recent fight. He looked like he’d lost an eye and seemed edgy, so we moved on fairly quickly.
We did a photo stop along the shores of Tutshi Lake.
This was one of the few beaches and camping grounds in the area. It's a huge lake, with shoreline covering hundreds of miles, almost entirely undeveloped since the gold rush. Despite its beauty, its remoteness means that it doesn't attract a lot of recreational traffic apart from stops by passing tourists on the Klondike Highway - like us.
Looking out from the shore onto Tutshi Lake. We saw a grand total of three boats despite driving along this lake for 20-30 miles.
The road leading back up to the mountains and the camp ground.
The mountains along the opposite shore. The lake and adjoining rivers narrow here before flowing into Tagish Lake along the Yukon-British Columbia Border.
Our driver kindly took a lot of pictures of us passengers in our various photo stops.
Back on the road looking out over the widening lake (or this may have been Tagish Lake by now).
The clouds rolled back in as we headed on towards Carcross. The lakes (fjords?) we passed were narrow and sometimes hundreds of miles long, according to our driver. He told us that it was possible to navigate them and the connecting rivers all the way to the Bering Sea if you had about a year of free time.
Looking up the mountain slopes.
Approaching the Yukon/British Columbia border along Tagish Lake.
The beautiful Coast Mountains.
More than a few of us were amused at the differing style of signs for the provinces we were entering and leaving.
The remains of a copper mining dredge along Tagish Lake.
I *think* this was tailings also from a now-closed copper mine.
Bove Island.
Crossing one of the last wooden bridges in Canada.
We stopped briefly in the tiny village of Carcross, the endpoint of the rail line, then went on to Caribou Crossing for our barbecue lunch and dog cart excursion.
The story goes that the owners of Caribou Crossing were having a barbecue at their home when a Holland America tour bus broke down, and they invited the dozen stranded tourists to join them, which made the wait for a replacement bus a lot more bearable. A few Holland America executives heard of this from the grateful travelers and visited to thank them, and suggested they make it a business, given the strategic location on the long scenic drive through the Yukon on the highway. One of the owners was a taxidermist, and now his work fills the wildlife museum at the site. They made a killing and retired a few years bac, and the place still grows in popularity. It now hosts a petting zoo, a wildlife museum and Mountie museum, the musher’s camp, an ice cream parlor, and a few other businesses.
I was so proud of myself for spotting these mountain goats - turns out they were fake.
We had a wonderful lunch of barbecued chicken, baked potatoes, fresh rolls, and their signature sugar-cinnamon donuts. They sold coke products as well, a welcome respite from Norwegian Cruise Line’s repulsive monopoly of Pepsi-filth. (Shudder!) I had time to wander both museums and the gift shops, the petting zoos, and snuggle husky puppies before my 12:15 pm dog cart ride.
Well, okay, then!
Mama, watching as we snuggled her pups.
PUPPY! Much jokes were made about checking to ensure no one on our tour was smuggling any of said puppies in their carry-ons back to the ship. Then we learned from visitors to another mushers' camp in the region that some dipshits had actually tried it once! They made it all the way back to the ship, where fortunately, the security stop before re-boarding caught them (before they put the poor puppy through the x-ray machine!) Puppy in question was returned to his home and reunited with his mom, and I can only hope the tourists in question had their asses tossed into jail. What dirtbags!
Most of the dogs ("Alaskan huskies" - basically mixed breeds of all varieties) were lined up for cart-pulling duties, but a few were on breaks and available to receive treats and scritchies.
Busch Gardens has nothing on this! We had happy, bouncy puppies (dogs) of all colors, eleven in all. Our musher told us that they used an odd number, and so, a middle dog had no partner because he didn’t always behave. I concluded that he does not dog well with others. It was rough and bumpy and swerving over rocks and roots, since we were on wheels over dirt and rock instead of sled runners over snow. We were told sledding is far smoother, but it was still awesome. All we could really do was hang on tight and laugh our heads off.
The alpalcas, whose fur had just been trimmed.
The goats,, who were happy to beg for treats.
The miniature horses, who had no damns to give.
The pygmy goats, who were uninterested once they determined that I had no treats for them.
The sun was out when we reboarded the bus, so our driver took us up to Emerald Lake for a few more pictures.
He had us guess what caused the color in the water - I guessed copper, since it’s mined nearby, but he said it’s calcium carbonate.
The north shore of Emerald Lake.
Facing south.
We returned to Carcross for a few more photo ops, then we got to guess what the purpose was of the very long rec center building. My first guess, hockey, was wrong, but I got it on the second guess: curling! Heh! Our driver compared curling to watching grass grow, and I couldn’t tell him to think of it as a sexual metaphor because there were kids on the bus.
The White Pass Railway Bridge between Nares and Bennett Lake, site of the death of Dawson Charlie aka Tagish Charlie, one of the discoverers of gold on Bonanza Creek which led to the 1898 Klondike Gold Rush. Charlie died when he fell off the bridge while drunk in 1908.
Facing Bennett Lake from one of the bridges.
Facing back toward Nares Lake.
The view from the bridge.
Bennett Lake.
The Carcross rail depot, endpoint of the White Pass & Yukon Route railroad.
The wild streets of Carcross. It was originally called Caribou Crossing, but its name was changed at the behest of a local bishop, who had trouble receiving his mail due to the number of other locales in Canada called "Caribou Crossing."
Heading back out of Carcross along Tagish Lake.
We saw One-Eyed Bear again on the return trip and got a photo op close to Bridal Veil Falls, which we’d seen across the canyon from the train. Our driver explained hanging glaciers that covered many peaks and that the softly rounded peaks had once been entirely covered by ice, while the sharp peaks would have protruded out of the ice during the past ice ages. Yellowish lichen is the first “plant” vegetation that takes hold after glaciers retreat, followed by other plants.
The rain started up again when we returned to Skagway, but the clouds were higher, letting us see the sheer height of the surrounding mountains. I’m pretty sure these were some of the highest I’ve seen as an adult.
Crossing back into Alaska.
The Bicentennial plaque for Klondike Highway.
Gazing south over the Skagway River gorge between the mountains.
The mountains of the pass with hanging glaciers still visible among their peaks.
A suspension bridge with a unique design intended to withstand earthquakes. We decided we did not care to be the ones to test it in action.
Bridal Veil Falls up close.
You can't really see it in this shot, but the railroad wound around the mountain on the left, which we had traveled over this morning, seeing Bridal Veil Falls from the opposite side of this valley. We were now standing with our backs to the falls.
Yet another beautiful waterfall (dunno what its name was) tumbling down into the Skagway River from up in the mountains.
Back in Skagway, I was among those who opted to be dropped off in the center of town rather than back at the pier, though the ship was only about a ¾ mile walk. I had four hours until all-aboard, so I ambled among the historic buildings, went into the small museums that were open, shopped and took pictures.
Oh, and buying a slab of fudge, because I’m weak. The rain got heavy at one point, and I discovered I’d left my umbrella on the ship, so I bought another one for about $3. It wasn’t very well-made, but it kept me reasonably dry for the afternoon.
According to our driver, even small houses in Skagway approach $1M. Real estate is at a premium even in such a small town.
Beautiful flowering shrubs and daylilies in gardens.
The centennial park near the depot.
One of the trains preparing to depart.
The Skagway Bicentennial Statue.
Gazing south from the park across the Taiya Inlet at the mountains. On the other side of those mountains is Dyea, another starting point for the 1898 stampeders.
One of the antique engines.
Wildflowers.
This may have been yet another variety of dogwood, but its blossoms were tiny.
Pullen Creek, a lovely walk I discovered just wandering the town.
Sadly, it was the wrong time of year to actually see salmon in the creek.
This was a "hike" that I was actually in shape to do!
Looking back at Skagway from Pullen Creek Park.
Looking UP from Pullen Creek Park. It rained on and off all afternoon, but the clouds moved fast and gave me a glimpse of the peaks surrounding the town.
Wandering back toward the ship.
Not sure what this tree/shrub was, but it came in multiple colors and reminded me a little of our southern crepe myrtles.
More lupine-ish flowers in beds along the road back to the pier.
The harbor heading back to the ships.
Home sweet ship.
Looking northwest from the pier.
The cargo docks opposite the cruise ship pier.
I probably put another mile or two in just weaving up and down Skagway’s streets, ogling mountains and gradually making my way back to the ship. None of the local restaurants tempted me, so I decided I’d save money and eat on the ship.
Re-boarded around 6 pm to the Atrium dance party rocking out to Taylor Swift and hauled my acquisitions to my cabin before heading down to Seven Seas main dining room for dinner. Tonight I ate conservative, and it paid off. The galley got spaghetti Bolognese perfect, as well as chicken Caesar salad. I tried a chocolate crepe with nougat crème for dessert. Yummy, though I scraped off the mandarin and raspberry sauces (I have an aversion to fruit sauces on chocolate.)
Then up to the upper decks to write today’s chronicle and watch sail away. Fog, clouds, and rain shrouded the fjord once again as we prepared to leave.
Sailing back down Taiya Inlet toward Lynn Canal.
I decided today was my favorite excursion, though Juneau had been my favorite port.
I still hadn’t figured out how to get to the Observation Lounge without crossing the pool deck, and we were already under way when I started - shiiiiit! I’ve always wondered what hurricane force winds feel like! The bridge report always gave the “actual wind speed” and “apparent wind speed” - the latter means how the wind feels when the ship’s speed and direction is factored in. Sometimes a “fresh breeze” becomes a “moderate gale” if we’re moving in the right direction. Dunno what this was, but it was damn near enough to knock me over! The Observation Deck outside the lounge was closed “due to strong winds” - yep, noticed! Couldn’t very well argue with that.
However, inside the Lounge, the jazz band performing tonight was a vast improvement over last night’s entertainers, and the view of the mountains was beautiful enough for me to park myself for a while and just relax. A couple even got up and danced.
The wind was whipping white caps up on the Taiya Inlet, and the clouds were clearing near its mouth like the exit from a tunnel made of shadowy mountains. The huge white peaks seemed to glow when the sun hit them.
Observation: NCL still mixes drink strong enough to kill me. Three sips ended my one attempt at consuming a ridiculously-overpriced cocktail. It also tasted nasty (pisco punch).
The skies cleared as the inlet opened up, and the mountains on the starboard side rose up in dark and white pyramids. Waterfalls cascaded down into the ocean from the port side, close enough even for my dinky little iPhone, since I’d left my new camera charging in my cabin. Sadly, we were turning to port, so I soon lost sight of the peaks with their snowy crags.
Instead we sailed back into the fog, and I watched it rolling over the green, lower peaks closest to us until it was too dim and hazy to see anymore.