Leaving Skagway

This is Monday's post, despite the date above.

Leaving Skagway this morning was a bit sad. We have enjoyed our stay here. Our campground was nestled between the train track and the marina. Just hop on your bike and you are in town. Bike the other direction and you are at the boat docks. Nice.

We stopped for a few last shots as we departed town. Didn’t hurt to pick up a couple cups of Starbuck’s coffee (yes, even Skagway has a Starbuck's). We also drove out to the historic Dyea town site. Dyea was another town that bit the bullet after the gold rush. At one time there were 8,000 people living there. Now, there are barely visible remnants of a lost town. A few pilings remain of the docks that must have carried many a weary prospector to find fortune during the Gold Rush. Dyea also experienced an avalanche that iced its demise. Our real reason for taking this winding 7.2-mile dirt road was to perhaps catch a glimpse of the elusive American Bald Eagle. A young man at the ferry terminal told us that we might be lucky and see one soaring above the inlet. Sure enough, we viewed one searching for breakfast and it touched down on the shoreline. Stately and commanding, it played sentry on the bay. Not close enough for a great shot; we took one for the record. Probably the best image we captured on the road was of a house of ill repute. Named the “House of Bodily Needs”, it had a catchy phrase posted outside that read, “We may doze, but never close”. It was also posted as “reserved”. Someone from Skagway must have spent an hour or two there. As comprehensive as the Milepost guide is, this location was not mentioned. Wonder why…

We began retracing our steps as we headed north this morning. The roads that were clouded and fog covered on our descent into Skagway on Saturday were a bit clearer this morning. With some significant winds during the night, some of the cloud cover had dissipated. Clearer skies also brought cooler temperatures. It was 47 degrees when we headed through the Summit Pass area (3,300 ft). We photographed Pitchfork Falls and the William Moore Bridge. The placement of the bridge would scare off most bridge builders. With a unique suspension system, it certainly deserved a picture or two.

We were now in British Columbia. We quickly passed through Canadian Customs. Used to folks coming and going from Skagway, our entry was incidental. We passed through Carcross again, but this time we took the turnoff and entered the sleepy town. Named for the caribou that cross through this territory in October, the town was a combination of tourist traps, historical buildings and a visitor center. We took a few pictures of two churches with simple steeples, a funny place called the “Barracks”, complete with a Yukon rubber tree, the general store and the visitor center. Speaking with the proprietor of the general store, he indicated that he was ready for the tourist season to end. His home was in southern British Columbia. We guess you can only have so many days of being nice to demanding tourists. It must get old. His store was filled with Alaskan made products as well as some that were decorated with the word, "Alaska", but had clearly been made in Sri Lanka or Vietnam. He also carried old time toys and stuffed animals.

We moved on and stopped at the world’s smallest desert, just outside Carcross. This natural wonder is caused by the winds from Bennett Lake. An International Biophysical Study programme site for ecological studies is located here. The desert is actually the sandy bottom remains of a glacial lake that once stood there.

Once we have retraced the South Klondike Highway to the Alaskan Highway, we travel another 200 miles eastbound.

Turning south on Highway 37, the clock said 7:30 PM. Perfect time for seeing wildlife. The only hope is that we don’t see it on our bumper or windshield. We want to put in the 50 miles before we call it quits for the day. As soon as you begin driving on this
“highway”, you know that you are in the wilderness. Back home, we would probably call this an “unimproved road”. No shoulders, no lane markers, no mile markers, no speed signs. Gives new meaning to “the middle of nowhere.”
We spent the night at a B.C. Provincial Park called, Boya Lake. 50 campsites, situated on a magnificent lake, the park offers canoeing, kayaking, swimming and serenity. You can’t put a price on the last amenity. Sites were quite full, with a varied array of camping set ups. There were 38 foot motor homes with attached cars, etc. as well as motorcyclists with nothing more than a tent and folding chair. What they all had in common however, was the appreciation for the natural beauty in which they camped.