Monday, September 1, 2014

Family and Friends (late July and August)

Jackson at Laughton Glacier
I'm sorry, dear friends, for not keeping up the blog.  I've thrown myself into this place and have been enjoying the countryside and the people. I've made good friends here and  I've had quite a few guests.  I work, hike socialize, do yoga, bike and go batting each week.


 
Long time friends Laura and Jackson


Batman Jonathan Fiely as we wait for dark

Janet and I before climbing up the roughest "short' hike in the area.
Sam and Janet on the way to Lost Lake


Meadow holding up a yacht

Time for dinner

Meadow in front of our digs

Yukon Jim, now aka Jungle Jim

Helene at Upper Dewey

Char and the Sherpas

Charlotte and her three sherpas:  Orion Bukantis, Bill and Greg Wiens

After being rained, hailed or snowed upon in every other activity I’ve done this summer, my luck turned around for our Chilkoot backpack.  The weather was perfect or as nearly perfect as I’ve seen in Skagway.  On Day Two we had two brief rain showers and that was it!!  It couldn’t have been a more perfect backpack!
Mist over the river































Greg at the beaver ponds

On our first day we hiked to Finnegan’s Point after I got off work.  The trail had flooded a few days before so we wore sandals through the beaver pond  area.  




Typical Orion pose:  what's that?  what's that?

Greg stretching
The Chilkoot Trail is a thirty-three mile hike over the Klondike Trail of 1898.  Where once thousands of stampeders lugged 1500-2000 pounds of goods to the Yukon, now about two thousand hikers from all over the world do it every year.  Our little group consisted of seven Canadians, a German and the four of us:  Bill, Greg and Bill’s high school bud, Orion Bukantis, plus me.  The twelve of us bonded every night during our yoga exercises on the tent platforms, either there and in the cook tent/cabin with a bit of Yukon Jack.  


Every night the Canadian gals led us in yoga
Leaving the Scales and starting up the golden staircase.  Can you spot Bill?



At the Scales, just before the Golden Staircase





Day two was as far as Sheep Camp.  It was tiring because of the mud and roots and rocks.  The third day we got up and out of camp by 8:30 (Mercy!) to make the long day over to Happy Camp.  The stream crossings were low and safe.  We had plenty of energy left after the Long Hill. 
At the Scales we regrouped and struggled up the Golden Staircase which is neither golden nor easily climbed.  It reminded me of scrambles with the Seattle Mountaineers.  I didn’t find the steepness frightening but I did get a little overconfident and land on my back.   Like a giant turtle, I had trouble righting myself in the boulders which grabbed onto my pack and held me down.  The ptarmigan and pika just laughed.
Golden Staircase

,
At the top

Top outhouse

After a comfortable lunch at the summit cabin and outhouse, the remaining five miles to Happy were absolutely stupendous.  It got up to 75 degrees which had most of us jumping into lakes and streams to clean up and cool off.  I hold every minute of that day and every mile as a special memory.
Crescent Lake

Crater Lake


Guy tracks across the broken up ice.  Notice there are no Mom tracks!

Happy Campers!





Orion, the picky eater:  NOT!

Day four was through equally dramatic countryside with plenty of toads, berries and supposed bears.  At Lake Lindeman  the ranger served u fruit juice and cookies because Greg had returned an e-reader.  She  told us more and more Super Seniors and women were now hiking the trail.  Me, a super senior?  After that, we hiked to Bare Loon Lake which made me homesick for Montana because it was very similar to the dry countryside of home.
Closest we could get to the wildlife

Day five we hiked to Lake Bennett and took the train out to Carcross where our group met once again to sit around the bakery and share stories.  Then the boys and I took off to Whitehorse to see a bit of the Yukon and, in their case, drink some of its microbrew.
Bill going feral with a Berengia beaver in Whitehorse.  This is what happens when you have too much microbrew.

What made this trip different than other backpacks was the new realization of my limitations.  Jackson and Laura both complained that they wanted to think of me without limits but, folks, guess what, I’m showing my age.  My sherpas carried the tents and most of the food. For group supplies I only carried a stove, fuel and the drinks.  My pack was only around thirty pounds, perfect for my sixty-four years.  Also, the boys were now checking up on me;  where was I?  how did I feel?  everything going okay?  What a role reversal to be cared for this way.   I looked at this change and have decided I like it.  Again, as in Belize I had nothing to worry about.  I can trust my children to be sensible, make good choices and help me if needed.  How lucky I am!!