Chilkoot Trail

July 31st

Well, I had hoped for catching-up on my sleep, after the cheated one the night before. At 3:30
a.m., I bolted up, shaking my hand in my hair, yelping that there's a mouse running across my
head, and turned the light on! Poor Mark was instantly awake, right there with me, almost as
though he hadn't even been asleep, telling me I was dreaming. Earlier, I reported, I thought he
was up snacking on his Ritz crackers, looked to see him beside me, and continued to hear that
waxed paper package crunching by the table. Didn't linger upon it, though, until feeling
something go "thump" on my noggin.

After that, thank God, Mark started hearing little scurrying sounds in different parts of "M", as
well, and we were both turned into a pair of hypervigilant insomniacs for the next two hours, at
least. Not too long after the head affair, I flipped the light on again, swearing I heard tweaking at
the left base of my side of the bed, and then something jumping on the comforter between Mark
and me. Nothing again, shit! This is unlike me, having these tactile hallucinations, IF they really
are. Mark thought how funny it would be if we found a couple dead mice catapulted into one of
the corners of our home here.

Tonight, as I write at 9:20, we trust some ground squirrel, vole or mouse was outside "M", and
that it was shaken loose when we drove to the Chilkoot Trail this late morning (since we slept in
until about 9 a.m., from the erratic early morning). Looking out, the mountains were enmeshed
in clouds, with rain that did not look as though it would do much lifting today. We decided to
hike inspite of it, since we are good at merging with moisture and grey clouds, and not allowing
the weather to prevent our activities too often.

At the trailhead, by the Taiya River bridge, close to our camp on the Dyea Inlet, there were three
young women already getting their heavy-ladened backpacks on. We never encountered them,
and thought how swift they must be, compared to us old farts, BUT at least we can still walk.

 

We were ready with our rain pants, jackets, hats, walking sticks, bear sprays, air horns,
whistles, water, jerky and chocolate trail bars for snacks. After registering, the first few minutes
of the trail was steep with rooted walkways, and nicely placed stone steps intermittently.
Then, it was a lovely, very recently well-maintained, flat dirt trail (several wheelbarrows and
tarps over other equipment, freshly trimmed branches were evidence of trail crew returning) for
several miles. Over shallow beaver ponds and other marshes, long wooden narrow walkways
were constructed, which were lovely. Mark's last hike over these, he was walking on about an
inch of water, and must have looked like Christ doing his thing.

 

Before the beaver ponds, we met a young couple with backpacks who had been hiking over 20
miles since yesterday. They, as most of the backpackers on this 33 mile long trail of the Gold
Rush Klondikers, took about three to four days to hike, and then reserved a train ride back to
Skagway. Last night, however, they were still a ways from their first campsite goal, and a bear
cub came towards them, and continued to follow them. Of course, their fear was that mama
would be close by, and they started talking to the babe, walked away from him, hoping he would
get bored and leave them alone. Eventually, he did, but it was dark now, Jennifer and James
(?) were disoriented, not able to see through the woods for potential return of cub and/or his
parent, one or both took a couple falls, and they speed-walked back towards the trailhead for
about a mile and a half, away from the reserved train and end of the Chilkoot. After a
hypervigilant, stressful sleep, they woke, and hiked some more.

When we met them, Jennifer asked us if there was a chance that we knew the woman's number
to call, regarding their missed train, and need for transportation into Skagway, where there car
was parked. Mark reassured them that if they waited for us do a couple more miles on the trail,
we could transport them to town, or they could probably hitch a ride in, if they didn't want to wait,
which is what we assumed they would do. Both of us acknowledged them for doing the wise
thing, turning back, staying safe, and that now they also had a great story to tell.

The total hike we enjoyed was 7 miles, towards Finegan Point, and when we returned, there
was fresh bear scat, but with very few berry seeds and no hair nor salmon bones evident.
Another of the four younger backpackers we passed by one of bridges we lunched at, gave us
the scat heads-up. We met newly-weds with their older pup, a shepherd mix on leash, and
carrying his own food bags, from Whitehorse, who were doing the 33 miles as their honeymoon.
They had just moved from Toronto to the more rural Whitehorse. The last passing encounter
was with a man in his thirties or so, with a black polo-shirt and backpack, who Mark later told me
was carrying a pistol in a holster, which is not allowed in national parks.

Our feet and legs were achey and tired by the time we made it to the trailhead and bridge. The
reward was sighting a seal in the Taiya River, diving for salmon, emerging, and then arching
downward several times. Another surprise was seeing Jennifer and James across the road, by
their packs. They had only been waiting five minutes, she said, since they were moving very
slowly by then, so we drove them into town.

It was such a pleasant visit with them, riding, sitting on the sofa of "M." After Mark pointed out I
am retired as of May, they asked me from what, and I told them from counseling in a community
health center. I went on to say I was sooo glad to be leaving now before these new coding
systems were starting, and Jennifer and James both chimed about the ICD codes. She is a
family doc for a native clinic in Bimidji, Minnesota; he has been an IT medical staff, and is
applying to medical schools in Minnesota, to specialize, possibly in ER medicine. James then
asked Mark if he was a ham, and was well-versed in rattling off Mark's radio gear. Turns out he
has also been a ham since 12, so the guys talked ham rap for awhile, which was cute. We
dropped them off by their car in Skagway, suggested they indulge themselves with a great
dinner, which they had already decided, which included ice cream first. They looked even more
fatigued than we, so we assumed they may get a room instead of tent-camping tonight. Their
next stop was Atlin, one of our favorite places along this trip, on Warm Bay.

Town was a little less crowded than yesterday, with fewer cruise ships, and we were both feeling
more chirper than yesterday, so more fun and relaxation was had. Supper was at a fairly empty,
cute restaurant, Olivia's, on Main Street, with salmon and halibut in filo dough, with a nice salad
and seafood chowder. Then ice cream at our favorite sweet shop, with the nicest crew of young
women and our BYU male student. While Mark marketed, I swept "M" of the trail dirt clods and
dust, and town ended with a very few wifi minutes in the library before it closed.

No bears tonight at the tidal flats by our camp, but it was still a treat to be there before settling in
for the night. We may stay another day here and bike, or take off towards the Cassiar Highway,
a new way for me. What a nice day it was.