The last ten months of my life have been spent in a frenzy of “hurry up and wait,” as we like to phrase it in the military. Life has been a rollercoaster from the moment the announcement was made at the end of August 2019, that my business unit had been sold, until the last week of June when I shut down my email and handed in my laptop and badge.
Many people were disturbed by my decision to package out. I was too young—committing career suicide. Shouldn’t I want to continue to work, develop my career? Some were jealous, chained to the need for a steady paycheck for personal or family reasons.
It wasn’t an easy decision, but as time went by and the date got closer. Any doubt in my mind that it was the right one disappeared.
Am I quitting working forever?
Not necessarily. I’m taking a pause to re-evaluate what’s important in life, and how much I really need to work, while Ray and I turn 31 acres of Alaska wilderness into an artists’ retreat and our future summer retirement getaway.
Alternative Energy
I’m definitely going to be putting my technical skills to the test, working on our new solar kit and performing a battery study this summer. I also plan on doing a wind study to eventually install wind turbines to complement our system
Writing
Even with all of the physical work we have going on, being disconnected from the constant chatter allows me to focus on my story and blog writing in a way that I just can’t in town.
Collage of the Lilly of the Valley sculpture in Chicken. Many more to come as we turn 31 acres of Alaska Wilderness into an off-grid artists’ retreat.
Stepping off the Merry-Go-Round
Take care everyone. I’ll have some auto-posts on social media over the next few weeks, and when we come back into range for supplies, I’ll post updates on where we are at with our off-grid adventures. Hopefully someday some of you can come join us.
“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far it is possible to go.’—
T.S. Eliot
Thanks for reading. Follow my blog or sign up for my newsletter if you would like to find out more. My first self-published novel, The Dark Land, is Available on Amazon.
The legend of Alaska’s Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. It’s hunger for human flesh never sleeps, even in the deepest cold of winter. Courage, skill and love will be tested to the limits on the isolated boundaries of The Dark Land.
When the Excelsior pulled into Seattle with a “ton of gold”
mined from a small tributary of the Klondike River in 1897, a million people
made plans to head north. One hundred thousand people crossed the Canadian
border. Forty thousand people passed through Dawson City during the summer of
1898, only to find that most of the claims had already been taken. Tough
conditions, disease and back breaking work weeded out the weakest.
Plain cross, person unknown
Ghosts of the Yukon
It’s not surprising that the Alaska-Yukon Goldfields are riddled with ghostly tales. Spectre dog-teams in the night, towing evanescent passengers. Haunted ships cruising on empty lakes under the midnight sun. But one of the most famous haunted places is Dawson City’s Palace Grand Theater.
The Palace Grand Theater, built in 1899 by Arizona Charlie. One of the Most haunted buildoings in Dawson City.
The Finest Theater in the Paris of the North
Built by showman Arizona Charlie, The Palace Grand Theater didn’t open until 1899. By then, Dawson’s boom was almost over. People were already moving on to the next strikes in Nome and Fairbanks. But the Palace Grand was the finest theater in the “Paris of the North.” When the boom finally faded, Dawson’s historic buildings were abandoned and left to decay. In the 1960’s Parks Canada made an effort to restore the buildings and retain the Gold Rush history.
The Palace Grand Theater puts on multiple shows a day as part of their historic presentations. Multiple people working in the theater have recounted paranormal tales and activity. I have included a link to this video from Yukon paranormal.
Yukon Paranormal, Episode 3 Ghosts of the Klondike
Some believe the footsteps echoing through the second story
belong to Arizona Charlie, the famous showman and friend of Buffalo Bill. Does
he come back and visit his box to watch over his theater? Or is it one of the
other “Kings of Dawson,” who dug a fortune out of the Yukon and lavished it on
the “Goodtime Girls”?
“The poor ginks just gotta’ spend it, they’re scared they’ll die before they get it out of the ground.” –“Diamond Tooth” Gertie Lovejoy on the miner’s spending habits
As I have mentioned in previous blog posts, one of the
disappointing aspects about researching is that you can’t include ALL of the
fascinating things you find. While writing my series about Dawson City in 1898,
I have tried to include as much as I could about the real characters of the
Klondike Rush.
Kings of Dawson
Some of the other potential candidates for the male ghosts
haunting the Palace grand would be “Big Alex” Mc Donald who dug a fortune in
gold out of his claims, but died a pauper in 1909 after spending it all, always
assuming there would be more. To his credit, he didn’t spend it all on ladies
of the demimonde. He was known for donating money to charity or lending money
to people in need. During the Typhoid outbreak in Dawson when the first crudely
build hospital burned down, he donated money to fund the building of a new one,
earning him a knighthood from the pope.
One of the Kings of Dawson, “Big Alex” McDonald. He made and lost a fortune, but he was remembered for his generosity and civic responsibility, even though he died a pauper on his claim.
“Swiftwater Bill” was well known for making a fool of himself with the ladies of the redlight district of Dawson. According to Lael Morgan’s book, Good Time Girls of the Alaska Klondike Gold Rush, he made and lost three fortunes during his stint in Dawson. He frequented the saloons and dance halls, lavishing gold on his wives and mistresses. He even commissioned this gold belt for Rose Blumpkin.
Gold nugget belt made for Rose Blumkin. Image UAF-1964-79
Klondike Kate: “Queen of the Klondike”
“To us she was laughter and beauty and song. She was
forgetfulness of hardship and homesickness. But she was more than that, she was
our friend—a square shooter.”—The introduction as Klondike Kate was honored at
the annual Alaska-Yukon Pioneers Stampede in Oregon in 1931.
Klondike Kate Rockwell, Queen of the Klondike ASL-P-41-56 P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904. ASL-PCA-41
A Lonely and Queenly Presence
Multiple people have described encountering a presence in
the dressing room that once belonged to the most famous and boldest of the “Good
Time Girls,” Klondike Kate. Others have seen a lonely red-haired woman on the
second floor in the boxes or on stage after the theater closes when they are
locking up for the night.
Sweetheart of the Sourdoughs
A woman ahead of her time, she made her way north to seek
her fortune, purportedly disguising herself as a man to get around the Mounty’s
restrictions around women rafting over the “Five-Finger” Rapids.* She was
determined to get to the Klondike, where she was sure fortune awaited. When she
got to crowded, muddy Dawson city, she set about making a name for herself. She
was known for her famous “Flame dance,” where she would use fans to keep 200
yards of chiffon airborne while she danced in front of red lights. She was also
known for roller-skating on stage in a skimpy leotard. While a talented
actress, she was well known amongst the miners for her kindness, and quickly
became the “Sweetheart of the Sourdoughs.”
*The Five Finger Rapids was one of the more treacherous parts of the “weeding-out” process. Especially considering many of the rafts were home-made. So many of the boats wrecked going through the canyon that the RCMP started inspecting the rafts before they launched. They felt that women should not shoot through the rapids and forced them to hike around.
The Wrong Man
Unfortunately, she fell for the wrong man. Head-over-heels
for bartender Alexander Pantages, he fleeced her for thousands of dollars then
dumped her for a younger woman. Heartbroken, she tried to recover the money by
suing him (they were business partners). But after a year she was only able to
recover a few thousand dollars. A few years later he was accused of raping an
underage girl and was sentenced to 50 years in San Quentin. He served 2 years
before being later acquitted, he died five years later never recovering from
the ordeal. Some accounts speculate that the entire crime was a set up by some
of the miners who loved Kate and had a spite at Pantages for the heartbreak he
had caused her.
“I was the flower of the north, but the petals are falling awfully fast honey.” Klondike Kate at 71, in an interview she gave before her death in 1956.
She lived life to the fullest, marrying 3 times. Now when the lights go low in the Palace Grand Theater, her ghost walks the stage and the boxes. People smell roses or rosewater in her dressing room. Perhaps this summer when we visit Dawson again as part of my research, I’ll get the chance to say hello to the spirit of this amazing pioneer woman.
A picture of me at one of our favorite surprise stops in Dawson, the Sternwheel GraveyardThe Dark Land, Available on Amazon
Lured by her high peaks and vast forests, adventurers swarm to the siren call of Alaska’s backcountry. Her harsh bite scars many. Some never return
The legend of the Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. Its hunger for human flesh never sleeps, even in the deepest cold of winter.
Thanks for reading. If you sign up for my newsletter, you’ll get a sneak peak of the sequel to the Dark Land.
We’ve had one of the coldest Januaries on record here in Anchorage. Now that it is February, Ray and I are deep in the planning logistics for our first Chicken trip of 2020, scheduled for March. It takes a lot to travel out to the cabin under normal conditions, but when you’re going out there at a time of year when the road is barely open, and there’s no one for miles, safety is of the utmost concern.
Taylor Highway Closed Sign. Road closes from October 15 and “officially” reopens April 30. We typically can get out to our place by mid-March depending on snow conditions.
I am pretty excited, considering all of the changes 2020 has in store. I am getting laid off from my job (not completely a bad thing), I am self-publishing a novella (the Dark Land, coming in May), and I am staring the second round of my newest MS treatment in a week.
Breaking up the snow for water
Things are pretty frantic at the moment, and I have to admit, I can’t wait to get out to the cabin, and get away.
Moonrise from the cabin in the late fall of 2019
One of the great things about being away from distractions like the internet and the cellphone (yes, we have neither out at the cabin) is the time to savor the small things. For those of you who follow me on a regular basis, you’ll notice we take a lot of pictures of the view from our cabin.
The cabin at night.
It is amazing to watch the light change over the course of the year. I can take a photo from the same spot, at the same time, just at different times of year, and the difference is astounding with Alaska’s dramatic shift in light.
The cabin in Chicken, AK
Next week I will be releasing the cover of my horror novella The Dark Land, designed by Avery Kingston. You’ll notice that the background of the cover is the featured image of this blog post. I took that from the porch of the cabin in April of 2018 on one of our first trips out. At that time of year, the Taylor Highway is still closed. It doesn’t officially open until May. Only 5 people reside in Chicken per the last census. When we look north toward “town” we can sometimes see one light at night. That light belongs to the caretaker of the “Old Town” of Chicken. Other than him and the Chicken Postmistress, there are no other people for 70 miles in any direction.
View from out fire pit in winter.
The epic views and the amount of quiet time make for fantastic inspiration for writing. Someday I hope more of my writing friends could join me out there. Thanks for reading! I plan on previewing the cover of The Dark Land soon. Next week’s blog will be more on my battery study and our preparations for the first Chicken Run of 2020!
Even as the snow continues to fall, the days are getting longer and we feel spring is right around the corner. Ray and I are planning for not only the 1st Chicken Run of 2020 (tentatively the last weekend in April), but placing orders for our summer projects. We have a lot of plans for this summer and we can’t wait to get started.
Travelling the Taylor and Top of the World Highways
Top of the World HIghway, Alaska side
But as some of you who follow me regularly know, Ray and I
have a passion for Historic Ghost Towns. We’re planning on getting out this
summer and visiting a few more in the region. We are going up the Taylor and
Top of the World Highways toward Eagle and Boundary to obtain large chunks of
quartz and granite for landscaping and sculptures. We are also going to drive
to Dawson, the setting for my Historical Fiction/Paranormal Romance, A Drink of
Darkness.
Yukon River, looking north from Midnight Dome
Ghost Town of 60-Mile and the Lonely Spectre
One of our stops along the way will be the Ghost Town of
60-Mile. On the Canadian side of the border, people were mining in this area more
than ten years before the discovery of gold on the Klondike. During its heyday,
almost 2000 people lived in this remote area. Before the highway was built, it
was the direct route between the mining towns of the 40-Mile district of Alaska
and the Klondike goldfields. Most people packed up and headed for Dawson when they
heard of the big strike. But a few stayed and continued to mine (there are
still some small mining operations to this day).
From the Ghost Town of Chicken, AK; a the former residence of a hermit miner featured in some of my blogs, Toad
Hermit Miners
According to resources, one character in particular was a
hermit miner named John Stockton. One of the interesting things about the
miners who come to the region, and really people who come to Alaska in general,
they are true loners. Many really want to just work their claims and be alone.
They might come into town on once or twice in a summer, pick up their supplies,
and head back out only giving the occasional greeting. From all accounts John
was one of these. Not hostile, but not social.
The Ghost’s Background
John was born in Oregon circa 1866* and was found deceased by the Northwest Mounted Police near his claim in 1944. He filed 6 mining claims with the government. He was buried on top of the hill in a spot he had pre-selected, overlooking the 60-mile valley. According to numerous stories and legends, his ghost still haunts the hill, and can be seen from time to time watching the new mining operations in the distance. He apparently doesn’t like anyone mining on the claim on which his grave rests. Anyone who tries experiences unexplainable equipment problems and bad weather.
Greeting the Ghost
We plan on checking out the ruins of the old town of 60-Mile.
Most of this Ghost Town has succumbed to the elements. We’ll also say hi to
John. According to legend, he’s amicable to people saying hi and visiting his
grave, he just doesn’t like it if they disturb things, linger long, or try to
find out anything about him. Mediums and other people trying to reach out to
him purportedly have gotten a stern, “Leave me alone,” in response to their
well-meaning efforts.
After having our cabin out in Chicken, I could understand
wanting to live my eternity undisturbed out in such a beautiful, peaceful
region. It sounds like the “Lonely Miner of the 60-Mile” is content with his
afterlife.
Who wouldn’t love to enjoy this view forever?
Much of my information on this story, I got from the book, Ghosts of the Klondike Gold Rush by Shirley Jonas.
Thanks for reading. My horror novella set in the Alaska backcountry, The Dark Land, is coming to Amazon May 4th. (pre-sale starts April 16th). If you sing up for my newsletter, you’ll get a sneak preview of a scene from the Dark Land.
Subscribe to our newsletter!
In my next blog post, I will talk about one of the most famous ghosts and hauntings of the Klondike Rush, and Dawson City’s Palace Grand Theatre.
The Dark Land, Available on Amazon
Ancient evil stalks the frozen trails of Alaska’ boreal forests. The legend of the Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. The Dark Land’s hunger for flesh never sleeps, even in the deepest cold of winter
*I did notice a minor typo in her book about John’s DOB, which is why I note the year of his birth as approximately 1866. It is listed in her book as 1886, which doesn’t add up to his death in 1944 at the age of 79. According to her notes, he filed his first claim in 1909 at age 44.
It seems like for everyone I talk to, 2019 has been a
dumpster fire. I know that I will be happy to see this year in the rearview
mirror. For those of you who know me/follow me closely, you know that I have
struggled with MS and other health related issues this year. Then in August,
the company I worked for announced that they were selling our business unit.
These last few months I have spent a lot of time reflecting on my career path
and what I want to do going forward.
Me with a frame 5 GE rotor
It surprised a lot of people, given that I’m only 41, that I
opted to package out. Instead of applying for a job with the new operator, I
requested to be severed. For me, the choice was simple. This is an opportunity
to make a deep change in my life. I have explained in my blogs, that I have
always enjoyed writing. I enjoy engineering and math just as much. In the last
few years, I have felt that my job was taking me down a path that led me away
from what I enjoyed doing. I was no longer an engineer, I was pushing paper and
collecting a paycheck. Meanwhile my blood pressure was ratcheting up, as I argued
against decisions I disagreed with, only to get overridden. The stress seemed
to eat away at my very being. The only thing making my job worth doing was supporting
the great technicians and operators I work with.
The guys cleaning a substation
I hinted over this weekend of exciting announcements to come. I’m still waiting for my final severance date (I’ll get my letter in the mail Friday—I’ll be sure to let you know). But in the meantime, Ray and I are laying our plans for the future.
Monday Ray and I will be putting the down payment for our
first solar kit out at the cabin. We’ll be sharing pictures and posts as we
design and install our new solar panels, inverter, charger and batteries. We’re
looking forward to the greater flexibility as we stay out at the cabin for
longer in the summers and plan out adventures.
The cabin at night.
We also have some major construction projects in the works
for the summer of 2020. We poured our foundations this past summer, but in
July, we will be erecting a new cook shed and shower/sauna. It feels a little
weird, bringing creature comforts to our cabin that has been rustic for so
long. But as we transition from city living to Chicken these are changes that
will make living off-grid more convenient.
Breaking up the snow for water-I’ll really be looking forward to when we have a better water system!
We also plan on taking a few months and driving the ALCAN (a
trip I have never done before). We’re going to do an extended road trip to
visit friends in the lower 48. As some of you may have noticed, Ray and I have
kind of an obsession with old ghost towns. Expect to see lots of pictures and
historical blog posts about our adventures.
The Sternwheel Graveyard, one of our favorite stops on our Dawson City, YT adventure in the summer of 2019
We’re not entirely sure what the long term will bring, but I am excited for this leap. I plan on focusing on my writing in 2020 and hopefully bringing my fiction works one step closer to getting published. I also hope to get my own engineering projects/start-up company off the ground. I’m grateful for this deep-sea change. This is a true, once in a lifetime opportunity, and I look forward to sharing our plans and schemes with those of you who keep following me.
Me out in Chicken taking a break with Jane Friedman’s the Business of Being a Writer
The “Tisha” of Robert Speck’s book published in 1976
Some of you who follow my posts about our cabin in Chicken, AK may have read the book, Tisha, written by Robert Speck. This book was loosely based on the life of a real school teacher in Chicken, AK. Her name was Anne Hobbs Purdy.
She wrote her another, based more on her time spent teaching in Eagle, titled Dark Boundary. This was published in 1954, and gave a much darker version of experiences as a school teacher in the territory.
Both versions are worth a read, and from talking with old timers in Chicken, Anne was quite the character. She was born in Missouri on November 10, 1901 and died in Dot Lake, AK on April 15, 1987. The Purdy family still owns property in Chicken. While I will be posting pictures of the “old town” of Chicken, I will not be posting any pictures or locations of the current Purdy family property out of respect for their privacy.
I put together this blog post for those of you who are fans of the book Tisha, but have never made it to Chicken. This will also be the setting for some of my future stories in my horror series (should it become one-rap wood!).
Jack Strong’s house. He had the contract for the mail in the 40-mile region, running a team between Eagle, Jack Wade, Steele Creek and Chicken. A key firgure in Tisha. The house has subsided up to nearly the windows.
We’ll start the tour with Jack Strong’s house. He had the contract to deliver mail and supplies to Chicken. He is the one who also “delivers” Anne to Chicken at the beginning of the story. His house was the largest and nicest in Chicken, also doubling as the General Store. As you can see in the picture, it has subsided over time into the permafrost.
Inside of Jack’s house. There are a few pieces of furniture left over from the era of when Fairbanks Exploration owned Chicken. The floor is nearly level with the window in the background due to the severe subsidence of the structure into the permafrost.Maggie’s Road House.
Maggie’s Roadhouse was the meeting Place for the town, where everyone would come together to gossip. It was also where they would get together after the dances on Saturday nights.
This cast iron stove in the roadhouse was brought in by dog sled. Fairbanks Exploration later retrofitted it to run on propane and installed the ventilation hood above.Sink and prep area in Maggie’s road house.This is where everyone would gather to eat after the dances at the school house.View looking toward the schoolhouse and Jack Strong’s warehouse from the Roadhouse.
So if you have read Tisha, you know that Maggie was a busy-body and a trouble maker. She didn’t like that Anne had taken in two native kids. She also didn’t like that Anne and Fred (a native man) were flirting with each other. As you can see here, she would have had ample opportunity to spy on Anne at the school house. This plays into several key scenes in the novel Tisha.
Front of Anne’s school house.Entrance to Anne’s personal living space on the north side of the buildingView from north side of Tisha’s School House. You can see in this picture that the structure has also subsided over time.View of rear of school house (west side) you can see doors and windows are closed off. At one point the building was two stories and used as a hotel. the second story burnt down in the early 1900’s.Inside the school room. Note the stove. It was made from a metal barrel. You can see the outline of the door and window and the back of the room that were closed off before Anne’s time.Anne’s personal living quarters. Sometimes when it got too cold, she would bring the children into her room and have them sit on her bed while she taught.Jack Strong’s Warehouse.Inside Jack’s storage warehouse in the old ghost town of Chicken, Alaska. Across from Tisha’s school house, it plays a central role in Anne’s story. Later it would become the warehouse for Fairbanks Exploration. Most of the goods left on the shelves are from their operations.“The Management House.” Once a private residence. One Fairbanks Exploration took over Chicken, it became a residence for upper management.Inside the management houseOld structureOld outhouse in Chicken. Could you imagine using this in winter. The record low in Chicken is -76 F.Toad’s residence
Toad is featured in a couple of my blogs. He was one of the last residents to live in Chicken full time before it was finally completely abandoned. He worked for Fairbanks Exploration and stayed on as a caretaker when they pulled out in the 1960’s. He eventually moved to a different place a few miles outside Chicken. Last year he moved to Tok. Only one person lives in the “Old Town” Of Chicken during winter as a caretaker now to prevent vandalism.
Me and my father-in-law Shep, having a beer at the bar in Chicken, AK
Thanks for reading! My horror series The Dark Land and The Devil’s Valley, based on the Athabascan legend of “the People with Tails,” is available on Amazon.
Some places were never meant for humans to trespass.
My research into Dawson City for my Historical Fiction novel: A Drink of Darkness
Gold was discovered in the Klondike in August of 1896 in a small tributary in the sprawling Yukon River. Due to slow communications, the rest of the world didn’t hear about it until July of 1897, after the Excelsior pulled into Seattle with “A ton of Gold.” A million people made plans to head north. Over 100,000 people actually crossed the Canadian border, taking one of few routes to the Klondike gold fields.
They could get to Skagway and take the “short,” treacherous
route over the Chilkoot Pass or White Pass. Too steep for horses, they carried
their 1000 lbs of goods mandated by the Canadian government on their backs. It
took an average of 40 trips over 33 miles to cart the goods over the passes to
Bennet City, where then the next leg was via river. This exercise took almost 4
months to complete.
Or they could take the 1600-mile, more expensive, all-water-route. They would travel by steamer from Seattle to St. Michael. Then they could take another boat up the Yukon. The steamers only ran from June until the end of September, when the river was free of ice. In the summer of 1898, the water levels were at record lows and the steamers got stuck multiple times, stretching the journey from 10 days into over two weeks.
In the summer of 1898, 40,000 people passed through Dawson City. A brash boom-town already calling itself the “Paris of the North.” During its boom from 1897-1899, it would be the largest city north of Seattle and west of Winnepeg. By the time the “Stampeders” reached the Yukon, most of the best claims had already been staked. People had been mining for gold in the region for over 10 years. When miners close by heard of the strike, they quickly moved in and staked the best claims, leaving little to nothing for the men who arrived by 1898.
As I mentioned in a previous post, we writers are often
told, “Write what you know.” I know what it is like to live in Alaska, and work
in the extreme cold (the coldest temperature I have ever worked in was -65 with
WC of -80). I know what it is like to be really remote with no internet, power,
cell service, running water and other basic services. But going back to another
period in time is a completely different story.
For my Historical Fiction, A Drink of Darkness, set in
December of 1898, the peak of the boom in Dawson City, I needed to do some
detailed research to give the story more depth. I used several sources, but
this blog post is going to focus on the archived photographs from the Alaska Digital
Archives. It is a compilation of historical photographs from Alaska’s past,
taken from various resources (UAA, UAF, Alaska’s libraries and records) and
digitized into one location. You can view and search them here:
It is free to view these photos online, but in order to use these photos for a blog or website, permission must be granted from the Archives. You can find the form and instructions to do so like I did on their website.
I started by searching through the archived photos of Dawson. I wanted to get a feel for the layout of the streets and the way the buildings looked. Built at a rapid pace on a muddy turn of the Yukon River, the first year it was mostly tents, yurts and three-sided log cabins. There was no sewage system or electric grid. Most heat was either wood or fuel oil.
Front Street in Dawson in 1898. Image P-277-79
Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
Note how the cart is buried up to its axles in the mud. Dawson was built on the mudflats of the Yukon River and extremely prone to flooding. The streets through downtown were unpaved in this period
They didn’t account for the spring flooding of the Yukon River or subsidence into the mud. As time went on, more “permanent buildings” were constructed. However, there were multiple fires. The worst being in April of 1899. Before this, there was no sewage/plumbing system downtown. After this, the new buildings were mostly finished wood instead of log construction. These details are important to my research both in showing the crude conditions in which my main character Helena had to live, but in determining which buildings belong to which era of Dawson. They were also helpful in understanding how people dressed when out on the street.
Picture of Front Street with people gathered to receive mail and news from the “outside.” Image P-41-161 P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904. ASL-PCA-41
Note the crude log construction in this photo and the lack of telegraph lines (though there appear to be poles with cable in the background-the system was under construction, completed in summer of 1899). This photo is probably from 1898, before the large fire that devastated the downtown.
It is also critical to note how the hills and river looked.
This land is similar to where our cabin is in Chicken with boreal forests
containing spruce, birch and willow. At roughly the same latitude as Chicken
and Fairbanks, it is also prone to permafrost. Due to all of the mining and
need for wood, the trees were clear cut around Dawson by the winter of 1898,
leaving Midnight Dome, the mountain behind the city, bare to the weather.
Front Street looking north toward “Midnight Dome” Image P-277-001-58 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
The lack of telegraph lines and street lamps indicates the above photo was once again probably from 1898
Front Street along the waterfront Image P-277-001-81 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
This is another view of Fronts Street. The better constructed buildings and docks along with the telegraph lines running along the water lead me to believe this photo has to post-date the fire of April 26, 1899 which leveled the waterfront.
I was also able to get an understanding for which businesses and Saloons were actually open the year Helena would have been in Dawson, along with an idea of the location of buildings critical to my plot (the Royal Mounted Police Barracks from which Liam and Zhang break into/out of at one point in the story).
Canadian Royal Mounted Police Barracks P-41-41, according to maps, it is still in this location P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904. ASL-PCA-41
There were fantastic pictures of the boats pulling into
Dawson. I used these, along with my other references to show what Helena’s
arrival into the “Paris of the North” would have been like.
Steamers pulling into Dawson and unloading, 1898 Image P-41-41 P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904. ASL-PCA-41
Pictures of steamers waiting to load/unload. Note the tents pitched right next to the river, along with the small boats just left along the shore. In the summer of 1898, boats pulled into Dawson by the hundreds nightly. But could you imagine wintering in the Yukon in a tent? Not to mention, the Yukon is notorious for flooding in the spring. Just ask the residents of Eagle, AK:
Dawson had a telegraph installed by summer of 1899, but little other communication to the outside world. The Yukon froze October 31, 1898. Steamer travel would have ceased weeks before as the river began to clog with ice (starts to happen beginning of October, pictures I reviewed online indicate mid-to end of September was the last Steamer out). Once the river freezes, the only way to transport supplies was by dog sled. This was treacherous at best, presuming the aforementioned passes were open. Skagway to Dawson was 444 miles over rough trails prone to avalanche, but a few brave souls did it for profit.
Dog Sled Team pulling into Skagway from Dawson, winter 1898. Image P-41-10 P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904. ASL-PCA-41
This is critical to my plot as well, both stranding Helena in Dawson for the winter (the Yukon typically won’t completely break up until May, with the first steamer arriving from Seattle until June). She then has to survive the boomtown madness. It is also critical to Liam. He needs to contact his brothers in Sitka and his oldest brother Jack, who is on the American side of the border, scouring the gold rush towns of Jack Wade, Steel Creek, Chicken and Eagle. The only means of communication by December of 1898 would have been mail delivered by dog sled.
According to the unofficial census taken by the Mounties, approximately 16,000 people wintered in Dawson, but only 500 of them were women. Something else is stalking the Yukon in the winter of 1898. Something deadlier than typhus or scurvy.
Helena will struggle to resist the Drink of Darkness. The taste is to die for.
Conrad J Kenneman Died Jan 23, 1911 age 51 years
Thanks for reading! For my next blog, I will be talking about my research into the real ladies of the night of Dawson City and other boom towns of the Alaska-Klondike Gold Rush.
As previously mentioned, this last Chicken trip Ray and I
did something we have never done before. We hiked to the old chicken cemetery. People
have been mining for gold in Chicken since the 1880’s. The original town of
Chicken (now abandoned) is across the highway from the newer town sites. You can
still take a tour of the old ghost town. The Gold Panner RV Park does tours
twice daily.
Chicken Cemetery
But the old cemetery is some distance from town and not very
well marked (as most old cemeteries are). It is located at the point where the Chicken
Creek flows into the Mosquito Fork of the 40-Mile River. According to an old
reference book, Chicken, Alaska, Then and Now, the trail could be found
at about mile 68.5 on the Taylor Highway. There were multiple little trails
along that part of the road. As you might guess, Ray and I ended up picking the
wrong one and hiking all the way down to the creek and river through mosquito
infested swamp.
After an hour or more of hunting for the right trail from
the river, we hiked back up the hill and found the small cemetery. As many of
you commented in on my photos, it was both beautiful, and eerie to say the
least. There weren’t many markers left, most of them being made of wood.
Conrad J Henneman Died Jan 23, 1911 age 51 years
Many of you might be wondering why they would bury their
dead in the middle of the woods on a hill. Back when the burials occurred, due
to the mining in the area and the need for wood, the hill would have been clear
cut. This hill would have also been one of the easier places to dig because it
would have been less prone to permafrost. It also it up out of the flood plain,
so they wouldn’t have had to worry about erosion.
Plain cross, person unknown
Ray and I plan on going back next trip and making some
repairs to one of the markers. The really unique marker with the wind chimes
that is shaped like an angel is broken. One of the angel’s wings fell off.
Angel headstone with wing broken. Ray and I plan to go back and fix it.
In keeping with this blog post, my theme for this week is:
memory/remembrance. During our trip to the cemetery it struck us how lonely and
sad this little forgotten place was. And looking around the clearing, it was
obvious there were other grave that the markers were long gone, lost to time.
This grave is not in the cemetery. It is located next to the Saloon. It is a grave of a little boy who died around 1949.
Hey #AKChickenChick and #DKMasquerade Followers and Writers! It has been wild and crazy out in the land of Chicken. I am still compiling tweets from the last two weeks, but here is our story from the last 2 weekends for those who want to catch up on the craziness!
Bryce and Liberty
Bryce watched Shannon
flirt. He should be enjoying the solstice celebration. Instead he was stuck in
fucking Chicken, AK! If only he didn’t need her money so much! He saw a woman
on wobbly legs enter the saloon. Damn, she looked familiar! He needed a closer
look.
The man slid into the
booth across from her. He had a playful smile, but the deadly intent in his
eyes was no joke. Fine. She wasn’t in the mood for games. “What are you
doing here, Bryce?” she asked, her tone sharp &biting.
“I was going to
ask you the same thing,” he responded, having already noted that her usual
ménage of bodyguards was absent. “It’s not like you to travel so light.
Where is your entourage?” He needed to know who else might recognize him
and decide what to do. She seemed nervous
Was this some sort of
cosmic joke? She’d run all over the world, stopping at the farthest reaches of
the US only to run into her husband’s right-hand-man, his snake? Liberty didn’t
know if she should laugh or cry.
She knew this man. He’d
sold his soul years ago, to her husband, his boss. There’s still venom in his
smile, but also a new warmth in his eyes. There’s no doubt he’s a traitor. But
to her, or his boss? Would he protect or betray?
He couldn’t believe
this! Everything had been going so well until this trip. The boss’ wife? She
was the one person he couldn’t simply silence. He had to find a way to convince
her to keep her mouth shut, though. If the boss found him, the jig was up
“Are you here to
drag me back?” She blurted, at the same time Bryce asked, “How’d he
find me?”
Bryce stared at her in
confusion. “Drag you back?” he asked. “What are you talking
about? Who’s with you? Phil? Gallo? I’ll kill them if I have to. Why are you
here? He never lets you out of his sight.” Bryce felt sudden, cold terror.
His eyes darted around the bar. Was HE here?
She studied the man
she’d hated for so many years, hesitating to ask but needing to know. “My
husband gave you the three things you always craved; fortune, status, power.
What made you leave.” She eyed the exit. “Have you left?”
Loyal Bryce had taken
off, left the “business.” He’d have stolen the First Lady’s silver &
the Queen’s diamonds if her husband asked. Yet, here he was, bathed in sweat
&secrets. It was time to reveal one of hers. “I ran.”
Bryce let her words
sink in. It had been nearly impossible for him to get away. He couldn’t
conceive how she had done it. He could see the fear in her eyes, yes, but it
was shadowed by her defiance. “To Chicken, Miz L?” he asked, then
laughed.
Liberty laughed, taking in her husband’s (maybe former) goon. “Well,
Chicken wasn’t my first stop. Your boss & I have been playing a game of cat
&mouse all over the globe.” She studied Bryce. “Is it time for me
to run again?”
Bryce looked back at
the woman behind the bar as he exited, their conversation weighing heavy on
him. Of all the things he expected here running into the boss’s wife was not
one. She looked happy, he thought. He couldn’t recall that he’d ever seen her
laugh before
Bryce left the bar,
weighing his options. It was as good as gold, he thought, finding the boss’s
errant wife. Would the bastard grant him freedom if he returned her to him?
Could he negotiate a generous bounty?
*****
Shannon and Volk
Shannon was more
than a little intrigued by the delectable young stranger that sat next to her,
his thigh so close to hers that she could feel heat emanating from it. She
tried to hide the band of gold on her finger, but realized he’d seen it, and
didn’t care.
Volk brought her hand to his lips,
lingering on the #gold band
around her third finger as he gazed into her pretty eyes. “My brother and
I have business to attend to tonight. But perhaps we will see you here again
tomorrow evening?”
Shannon flushed, but yes, she’d be here
tomorrow. What was it about this fascinating man? She wondered briefly,
guiltily, what Bryce was up to. It didn’t matter. She was mesmerized. The band
that tied her to another man faded as she gazed into his beautiful,
unfathomable eyes.
He gave a wolfish
grin as her eyes fluttered to his bear of a brother as he stalked into the
woods. “I can bring my brother, if it would please my lady. If you are
wondering, yes, you can have both. If that is your wish. I am but your humble
dog.”
Concealed by the
woods, Volk reverted to his wolf-spirt form and tore through the brush after
his brother. Splashing through the swift flowing creek, he nipped at the thick
golden fur. A large paw swiped knocking him on his side into the water.
“Focus!”
“I am focused,
on all the right things,” he replied, righting himself and shaking the
excess water off. “Besides, don’t you want to know which she’ll
prefer.” “I have no doubt which she’ll prefer. Are you afraid you
won’t measure up, Little brother?” This time the wolf dodged As his
brother gave another playful swipe. “It’s not the size, it’s the skill,
and I have both, big bro.” He sniffed the air, catching a scent. The hair
stood up on his ruff. “To the south, it’s angry. It’s found some other
humans. We need to hurry.”
*****
Aly & Sam
Aly had no idea how
she ended up in a place called Chicken, Alaska. But she was here. Got a job,
place to live. No one looked twice at her fake ID. #Solstice gig was tonite. She’s
expected to go. She hoped her wound’s dressing would hold her bleeding.
Ashley laughed with
Liberty as she served drinks, but her heart was heavy as her eyes scanned the
bar. Had it all been a dream? Too good to be true? Where had Aleksandr gone?
As if reading her
thoughts, Liberty gave her a hug. “It will be okay.”
Ashley was ringing
up a sale when she noticed drops of crimson on the floor. She followed them
over to where Aly stood, pale and wan as she served a beer to a customer.
“Uh, Aly. I think you need to take a break,” she caught Liberty’s
eye, pointing to the floor.
Aly didn’t know who to trust; all were
strangers.But her stab wound was infected & wouldn’t stop bleeding.Ashley
seemed nice. Sam had warm flirty eyes.Pretty soon she’d have to tell someone
why she was running.Then her world went black as someone’s arms caught her.
Sam caught her as she fell. Alarmed not
only by her pallor but the feverish heat of her body. “She’s
bleeding,” Ashley whispered as Sam carried her out. “I know. I’ll
take her to your cabin. Meet me with the kit and an IV.”
Ashley and Sam
carried the woman with haunted eyes out of the bar, they passed Bryce in the
corner booth still nursing his beer. Liberty was beginning to wonder
what-in-the-hell was in the drinks in Chicken Alaska. This city crawling with
dangerous secrets.
Aly woke in a
strange room. Sam was holding her hand & smiling at her. Her fingers went
to her bandaged side. It felt better, the pain was gone.
She blurted out, “My
husband tried to kill me.”
Sam squeezed her
hand, “You’re safe here.”
“He’s not looking
for me,” she whispered.
Sam nodded and touched her cheek, the
haunted terror in her eyes punching him in the gut. He took a deep breath then
gave her a broad smile and a wink, “You should be more careful washing the
knives in the kitchen. Rest for now, Ashley and Liberty will bring you some
soup later.”
*****
Aleksandr, Ashley and
Natasha
Aleksandr walked the
woods, eyes checking the skies periodically; he missed her & she’d barely
left. He could feel the thrumming power of the #Solstice all around him, especially
this far north, and he knew that the Children of Ariel would need it soon.
“Azreal? Is that really you?”
A low voice growled from the shade of the spruce bog. The man-like beast reared
to his full height of nearly 11ft. He dropped the three carcasses of the
Cet’aeni in a hole and grinned at the angel. “It’s been a long time,
friend.”
The Nuhu’anh, or known to the white man
as “Bigfoot” picked up another Cet’aeni by its tail and slung it into
the hole. “Planning to stick around for a while? I hear you’ve got a
liking for our daughter.”
“I am indeed, but I fear you may
need more help than just myself. I’m heading back to find her now and I’ll see
about calling some of my brothers.” Aleksandr bowed to the child of Ariel
and made his way back to the bar, He had a bad feeling and wasn’t sure why.
Aleksandr was
walking to the bar & saw him. His brother. What in the deep Hell was he
doing here…pun intended. “Lucifer the Fallen, what are you doing
here?” “I was pushed, thank you, & I love this area, the sunrise
is amazing. Why are you asking? Feeling guilty?”
“Besides
brother, I don’t go by that name, just as you don’t go by Azrael. Call me
Natasha.” the devil smiled & saw the angel of death wince. Something
had him spooked & it was just his purview to figure out what that could be.
He couldn’t answer prayers, but he could make deals.
Natasha walked into
the bar with Aleksandr & smiled when a woman rushed up to him. Interesting.
Then he smelled the blood & knew something else was going on. “Well,
now it’s a party.” He said to the quiet room, eyeing the men in dark
corners with secrets to hide.
Ashley was in his
arms before she even knew how she got there. She didn’t care if she had just
made a fool of herself in front of the whole bar. No place felt as safe as
Aleksandr’s embrace. She didn’t notice the man shadowing him.
They called him #traitor, but Natasha just wanted to
be his father’s favorite again; the #golden son. These humans &
their flaws, but he had to admit he liked them now that he had spent centuries
among them. He sat waiting for someone to call to him.
Both Aleksandr & Natasha turned at
the same time, their hearing picking up distant gunfire that humans wouldn’t
hear. Not just your hunter out for sport, this was machines of war. Natasha
smiled & stood. “Ooh I do so love a good battle,” he strode for the door.
As much as he tried to conceal it, she
could see the signs of worry in Aleksandr’s eyes. Ashley kissed his lips,
“Go, with Natasha, if you need to. As you can see we’re busy.”
“Promise me, you will not wander
into the woods,” he looked around the
crowded bar. Well after midnight, the solstice party was still in full swing.
Ashely laughed, “I’m so tired, I have no intention of wandering anywhere
but to bed tonight. And I have no desire to encounter those things again. Don’t
worry. We’ll be safe here with Sam and Luke.”
Aleksandr was #captivated by her eyes, her smell, yet
he knew he had to tear himself away. Those others that were here were missing
& the gunfire was a sure #sign of the evil coming. He
kissed her then fled. outside, he leapt,
unfurling his wings & soaring into the sky. Natasha was right there, his
wings out & flying alongside, white wings next to black. “You know
Michael would be so pissed right now,” Lucifer said. “You have no
idea,” Aleksandr replied truthfully
*****
Gentleman, Butler and Tua
The Spirit’s violet eyes glowed as she
reached into the creek and pulled forth a battered wooden case. She held it out
to Butler and Gentleman. “The Gguux of the rivers brought me these. The
poisons inside anger them and sicken my waters.”
Kneeling down,
Gentleman cracked the lid with his Ka-bar. He couldn’t identify the contents
within, at least, not without further assistance in a lab. Rocking back in his
heals, the more political spy and soldier pondered the situation.
“Odd,” He exclaimed.
“What is this, and is it being dumped, or processed nearby.”
“Wondering if we’re about to break up a legal operation?” Butler
guessed. “There’s no doubt that it has to be broken up. I just want to
know if we should do so mercilessly.”
“Recon?” Butler sighed,
calming his itchy trigger finger. “I’ll go get my rifle back.”
“I’ll contact lady.” Gentleman concluded. “And see what she can
find regarding localized operations- “Unless.” And now Gentleman
regarded the others. “Do you know who, or what, is in charge?”
“Nah, never
seen anything like that before,” Toad said. We’ll have to take the boats
up the river see who’s using boxes like that.”
“My one worry may just be
suspicion, but are there any malevolent spirits nearby who desire your
destructions?” Gentleman asked.
“Not destruction,” the River
spirit replied looking out at the flowing water. “Subjugation. Whatever is
spreading this evil wishes to bring we spirits of this land under its control.
To do its bidding.”
The two soldier spies looked at each
other befire Butler shrugged and Gentleman nodded. It was time to get answers,
and to make results. “Show us, please.”
Tua stepped back into the clearing
garbed not in her floral sundress but like one of them. “Toad will take us
up the river on the boat. I will be your guardian since we will be outside the
protective boundaries. We will start tonight on Walker Fork.”
“Still a letsist?”
“Still agnostic while claiming to
be Baptist?” Gentleman chuckled.
“Look,” Butler smiled, playing
the game. “You can’t deny there are mythical hot chicks with bodies worth
their weight in #gold, but to me I see fallen angels and Nephilim.”
“So, does this cement your faith in
the Almighty, or shatter your beliefs, Butler?” “Ah Hell, you know
this only cements my beliefs further.” Butler giggled as the followed
their guide. “I’m just waiting to meet my guardian angels and tap their
golden halos in thanks.”
“Angels?” “Plural.”
Butler paused to flash a victory sign. “With how many close calls I’ve
had, there has to be a team guarding my golden ass. And you can bet your bottom
dollar their earning overtime.”
Tua was puzzled as
she listened to the handsome mortals banter. She shrugged to herself and
scanned the forest. A dark energy made her freeze. “Butler,” she
whispered, reaching back and tapping his gun. “Your metal weapon. Have it
ready. something evil and mortal approaches.”
Neither man had to be told twice.
Slamming home the extended mag, Butler slapped his HK, prepping it to fire.
Dropping low into a crouch, he pulled his shooting glasses over his eyes, even
as Gentleman rolled into the underbrush. No lights were used, as they waited,
ready…
“The Cet’aeni,” Tua hissed.
“Aim for their heads. That is the quickest way-” her words cut off in
a scream as a tail whipped around her ankles and yanked her feet from beneath
her. Gentleman grabbed her arm before the creature could drag her into the
woods. Butler opened fireEar splitting
screeches filled the air and hateful yellow eyes glared from the shade of the
boreal forest. Tua stayed low, covering her ears as the creature released its
hold.
Leveling his shotgun, Gentleman aimed,
squeezed, fired without remorse or banter. Gone was the idle chatter. The only
words spoken were warnings, cautions, orders. Sparse sentences between gunfire
was seldom spoken though. Hand motions, actions, training took over. Butler
fired, semi-auto, controlled bursts. Shell casings tumbled into the darkness,
lost underfoot. The scents of accelerant, oil, blood, filked the air, but both
men ignored it, concentrating on keeping themselves, and their guide, alive.
“Reloading” Gentleman snapped, feeding shells, while Butler covered
for him.
“Behind you!” Butler
cautioned, slipping his starlight scope over his goggles.
With barely a
glance, Gentleman buried his Ka-bar into an enemy’s chest, before he shoved the
sweeper directly against its eyes and fired, ignorant of the fluids and viscera
that suddenly bathed his battle suit.
Was that it? Was
there any other sounds than the ringing in their ears?
Tua sat up, jade green eyes glowing as
she listed with all her senses. Silence prevaled once more. The next thing the
heard were Toad’s heavy breathing and footsteps as he came running up from the
river, rifle at the ready. “We should keep moving,” Tua said, rising
to her feet
She quaked. The Cet’aeni must sense her
in her human host. They knew her weakness. She couldn’t let them catch her, but
she could not abandon these two mortals in their quest. Her sister’s existence,
really all of them, depended on it.
“Good news.” Butler said as he
switched mags, dropping his half-used one into his grab-bag. “These
sept-anee can die.” Cleaning his Ka-bar, Gentleman oiled his beloved
blade. “The first wave did. But we know other creatures are going bump in
this night.” They fell in behind.
“Ket-ANN-ee,” Tua sounded out
for the two men. “The people with Tails. They live in caves and are the
enemy of the Ahtna. Someone has unleashed them. They are a key piece of our
puzzle.” They climbed into the waiting air boat. Tua scanned the forest
one more time.
“Oh… The Cat-Annies. Makes sense
that the ones with tails are named after kitties.” Butler muttered,
patting his pistol. “NO NINE LIVES FOR YOU!” He snapped in imitation
of an infamous Seinfeld character. “Let’s see what other unholy
abominations man can make go boom!”
“Nine lives?” Tua asked
cocking her head to the side and smiling at Butler’s comment. “Why do they
get nine? Are these special cats?” She took a seat in the boat while the
two men loaded their gear and Toad prepared the engine.
Volk sent a howl
echoing through the boreal forest, sending a message to his wolf brethren that
aid was needed in the hunt. Meanwhile his brother raced through the spruce bog,
his bear claws kicking up mud as he tore after the errant moose spirit.
“That, can’t be good news.”
Gentleman whispered, looking about before he added, “I think our firefight
was the catalyst for something big.” “As long as we’re airborne
before Momma moose finds us, I’ll be cool.” Butler said as he hurried to
reload his used magazine.
“Do not worry,” Tua said,
motioning to the sound of her brother’s howl. “My brothers are on the hunt
for the spirit. We need to focus on finding the source of the poison that is
spreading.” The airboat pulled away from the bank, making its way up the
Walker Fork.
“Time to s, s, and S.” Butler exclaimed, smiling.
“I am not explaining that.” Gentleman sighed as the boat glided over the water.
Tua smiled again. She had no idea what they meant, but these mortals were so entertaining. “Where’s our first stop, Toad?”
“I think our best bet is the old Wilks claim. He died sudden last year. Some new folks took over. Been a lot of activity. We’ll park down river, hike in”
A pause, as Gentleman waited for
Butler’s usual joke about ‘humping’ it, but Butler remained uncharacteristically
silent as he sat and finished checking his weapon, reloading the mag, and
wondering aloud if he should fashion some wooden stakes just in case.
“Hey, bro? Do you have any silver on you?”
“No… and sadly your garlic breath has diminished well below lethal levels.” Gentleman sighed. “Which is good news, for all of us.”
Tua’s eyes glowed as she sang a high
pitched haunting melody. Swarms of dragonflies and butterflies crowded the boat
as they continued up the river. Butler and Gentleman gaped as she whispered to
them and they departed. “My spies,” she assured them. “They’ll
return with news.”
“Thank you.” Gentleman replied, allowing himself to be awed by the beauty- Until Butler snorted.
“So, this is the origin of being ‘Bugged’? Eh? Eh?”
The disdain was obvious across Gentleman’s face.
Her lips curled up and a wicked gleam shone in her eyes as she began to sing again. Butler paled at the sound of the approaching swarm of bees.
“I get it! Let’s wait until we get back to the bar to get buzzed!” She changed pitch and the hoards diverted.
Seeing Gentleman’s
awed look, she smiled again. “I am the Spirit of the still waters. The
insects and birds come to my aid when I call, since I am their life source.
Much as my sister is mine,” she closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “If
she falls to darkness, we all do.”
“Then let’s
make sure you do not.” The dark mortal vowed. “Make haste.”
Butler encouraged, completing his reload. “HIYO Silver, Away!”
As Toad pulled the
boat to the shore, Tua cautioned them. “Whatever happens, do not allow
evil men to take me alive in this form. You’ve seen what I can do. Terrible
things will happen if I am trapped in my human host and turned. You must kill
my shell and return it to water.”
“I pray to God that will not
happen,” Gentleman began, “but if it does, we will make it swift and
merciful.”
“But if we can’t-” Butler
pulled a cylinder from his webbing. “This M67 will do the trick. Pull the
pin, let the spoon fly, and hold it near and dear.”
Tua nodded as she
took it. She caressed it with her fingers before attaching it to her belt. Her
green eyes were wide as she said, “It’s amazing that something so
beautiful could be so deadly.” She focused on the hum of the forest.
“There’s both mortals and immortals near.”
Natasha landed & folded his wings as she said that. “How kind of you to say that about me.”
Aleksandr landed & folded his wings in too. “She wasn’t talking about you,” he quipped bowing to the child of Ariel. He turned to the men and smiled. “We’re here to help.”
“Friend, or foe?”
“Let’s keep off the triggers until we know.” Butler sighed. “Last think I want to do is shoot a friendly. With my luck it’ll be a magic mirror. I assume that’s double the bad luck?”
“Squared.” Gentleman joked.
Tua sang in a high pitch, causing a
flurry of golden butterflies to converge on the group. She rushed at Natasha
flinging her slender arms around him. “Uncle! It’s been so long.”
“Well… that answers the friend or
foe.” Butler said. “And I guess asking if they can see my angels is
bad etiquette?” Gentleman nodded.
*****
The Hunt
The female alpha
signaled back and they closed in. Volk’s pulsed raced, hot on the hunt as the
ruminant spirit reared up before the pack, defiant.
He howled and led
the chase, knowing his brother was waiting. The other wolves closed in, forcing
the spirit closer to the river. Two wolves leapt, hamstringing the enormous
beast. He jumped for the jugular.
The Moose spirit
shook them all off. His brother charged into the fray, leaping between the bull
and the injured wolves with a growl. The moose spirit lowered his rack and
charged. The giant bear growled and swiped with his mighty paws, not entirely
escaping from the sharp tines of the giant rack. Volk leapt to his brother’s
defense, disemboweling the mighty beast as his brother dragged it toward the
flowing river. The wolf pack aided. Their sister, the Spirit of the
Flowing Waters waited to take it into her embrace. His brother dragged him
under by the throat and held him there while the evil spirit was cleansed from
their brother. A giant wounded moose emerged from the water and Volk gave a
signal. The pack closed in and made their kill.
Meanwhile, their
brother, the Spirit of the Ruminates emerged from the waters shaken and
confused.
“Welcome back,
brother,” Volk said as he huddled in Chena’s embrace, amber eyes scanning
the tundra as he cowered. “It’s okay,” she whispered
The summer Solstice is a special time here in Alaska, filled with parties and festivals. We hold our long, beautiful summer days dear to our hearts. Especially since we know the dark, cold days of winter are coming.
For Solstice, Ray and I typically head out to the cabin in Chicken. Solstice weekend is traditionally the Dust to Dawson bike ride and Chicken is one of the safety stops. It is fun to see motor cyclists from all over the world ride through on their way to the poker tournament in Dawson City, YT.
This is what originally inspired the idea for my writing prompt and to have DK Marie’s character, Liberty meet mine in Chicken, and run the bar.
Here is last weekend’s story compiled as much as I could find of your tweet’s. Thanks everyone for participating. I will chick in as much as I can before we go off the grid for the weekend. Run wild with the prompt and have fun with my theme:
SOLSTICE!
Shannon
Flattered by the
attention from this hot, young guy, she couldn’t take him seriously. She
smiled, and tried to brush him off with a light remark about her age.
“You’re not old,” he said, “you’re vintage.” The ways his
eyes swept over her made her reconsider his intent.
An ancient heat in
his amber-brown eyes ignited a spark in her very core. “What I lack in
‘age’ I make up for in experience.” He took her hand and pressed it to his
lips, letting his breath linger against her skin.
he young Adonis on the porch assumed a
casual stance, leaning against the post, thumbs hooked in his belt loops. Her
eyes drifted down to his hands, and she couldn’t help noticing how nicely his
jeans fit. Shannon felt her face flush as heat spread through her
He basked in the
heat from her lovely gaze. He turned his head at a low growl and a noise from
the woods behind them. He gave a wolfish grin at his brother who scowled and
walked toward the bar. “That’s my brother. Don’t mind his ill manners.
He’s not very social”
Shannon could barely look away, but she
glanced at the man walking toward the bar. From where she sat, he looked at
least as delectable as his brother. Something in his lithe movement made her
heart beat faster. If there was nothing else about Chicken, god the scenery was
awesome
Returning her gaze to the young man in
front of her, she asked him if he lived here. “Sometimes,” he
answered, with a lazy grin that sent a shiver up her spine. She indicated the
spot next to her, inviting him to sit. “Can I get you a drink?” she
asked. “Or anything?”
Liberty
She stepped from the airport doors &
paused. The heat was unexpected. Where was the cold & fog? She looked up
& read the sign. Yup, Alaska. Liberty shrugged & searched for Ashley,
figuring this would be one surprise among many.
“Liberty!” Ashley shouted over
the throng of tourists. She rushed to her friend and wrapped her arms around
her. “So glad you made it. I have so much to tell you. We’ll grab lunch
then head to Merrill Field. Sam’s getting the Beaver ready to fly us back to
Chicken.”
Always a sentient
woman,all it took was a loving, emotional hug to know something was different
with her friend. For now,they’d hold tight to their secrets &focus on the
glow of seeing each other after too many passing seasons.
The Beaver swayed on
the gentle wind blowing off the inlet as Sam lifted the plane into the Alaska
summer sky. “Should be clear skies all the way to Chicken. We’ll Fly right
by the Matanuska Glacier.” Ashley smiled to see Liberty’s face pressed to
the window
Liberty tried to enjoy the wonderful
Alaskan view but if they didn’t land soon they’d need a doctor and cleaning
crew. Her nerves and belly didn’t agree with the dips and dives of the
single-engine plane.
When the little plane landed, Liberty
ran outside, wanting to embrace a tree and kiss the ground. Never again. When
it was time to leave Chicken, Alaska, she was going to walk to the main,
international airport.
Random
Cecelia shifted in
her seat and bit down hard on her lip. The #heat created
between her thighs from Lavonda’s delicate touch set her heart
pitter-pattering. Embracing in a corner booth and distracting the other patrons
from Alexis who was emptying the register.
Once Lavonda and Alexis
had cleared out, taking the #heat with
them, Cecelia went up to the bar to order a scotch. She paid with some of the
very same coin they’d lifted together.
Ashley and
Aleksander
Everywhere Aleksandr
had kissed her, #burned. Not like fire, more like an intense #heat that
turned her on still. Ashley tried to get him out of her mind, yet the #respect he had shown her left her stunned. “Get it together girl.”
Ashley realized the
heat wrapped around her was no dream. She she felt no shame about her
dishabille, his dark wings covered them both as they lay on her bed.
“Aleksander,” she snuggled into his arms. “I’ll have to leave
the door open all the time.”
Natasha walked
though the airport & ran his fingers thru his dark hair. He looked out of
place with a fancy suit jacket and faded jeans, but he had always been a rebel.
“Flying first class sir?” The lady asked. Natasha smiled “No I like to fly
solo.”
