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.
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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.
As previously mentioned in another post, when most people
think of Alaska, they think of the South East. Calving glaciers, tall trees and
forbidding totem poles. While that is a part of Alaska, it is only a small portion.
The inspiration for my stories comes from the expansive interior. In
particular, my novella, The Dark Land, is inspired by Wrangell St. Elias
National Park, the largest park in the United States.
Wrangell St. Elias is 13.2 million acres in size, or
approximately 20 million square miles, most of it is uninhabited wilderness. What
is also unique about this park, 35% of it is covered in glaciers, making it the
largest glacier system in the US. The park is only accessible by road from two
entrances. On the western boarder it can be accessed via the McCarthy road
through Copper Center and Chitina. From the Northern side, it can be accessed
via the Nabesna road. That means the vast majority of the park must be accessed
by other means. In my story, the characters travel by ski and dogsled in
winter.
View of Mt. Sanford from the North side of Wrangell St. Elias National Park
Before Alaska became a state in 1959, Mt. Whitney in
California was the US’s tallest peak at 14, 505’. Many people know that Denali
(Or McKinley to those from “the lower 48”) is the tallest now at 20, 308’. But
what many do not realize is that Whitney became 11th place once
Alaska became part of the union. 7 of the 10 tallest peaks in Alaska reside in
the Wrangell or St. Elias Range (with St. Elias being its tallest. At 18,009’
it is the second tallest mountain in the US). Four mountain ranges converge
within the park boundary (Chugach, Wrangell, St. Elias, and the Southern end of
the Alaska Range).
Concentration Mill , Sacking plant and leeching plant at Kennecott. Mt. Blackburn visible in the background.
Kennecott Mine, which I have featured in a previous post,
can be accessed from the McCarthy Road. The mine was in operation for nearly 30
years. While most copper ore around the world is around 3-7%, The copper seam
in the hills above Kennecott was discovered to be between 60-70% pure, making
it the richest known copper concentration in the world at the time. The
Kennecott Copper Corporation was formed between Daniel Guggenheim, JP Morgan
and Steven Birch, some of the most powerful businessmen of the early 20th
century.
The Copper and Gakona Rivers at Gakona
The Copper River drains through the Wrangell and Chugiach
Mountain Ranges and is known to the “Head Water Peoples” or the First Peoples,
as “The River of the Ahtnas.” It starts at the Copper glacier and runs through
the Wrangell and the Chugach mountain ranges. The Ahtna tribes were considered
to be some of the fiercest of the Athabascan people. As mentioned in a previous
blog post, when the Europeans first tried to chart the Copper River, and sent
expeditions up it, many did not return. The Ahtna and Tanaina culture, language
and legends feature strongly in my writings as it is their beautiful and vast
land in which many of my stories are set.
Having visited this unique and remote region multiple times now, I understand how it has helped shape the history of the state of Alaska. I hope that this blog post helps you to understand a little more about the inspiration for my writing, and maybe inspires you to check out a part of the world that is a little off the beaten path. If you would like to read more about my upcoming projects or backcountry adventures, sign up for my newsletter.
Me out in Chicken taking a break with Jane Friedman’s the Business of Being a Writer
Thanks for reading! My Alaska backcountry horror novella, The Dark Land is currently available on Amazon:
The legend of Alaska’s Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. Its hunger for human flesh never sleeps, even in the deepest cold of winter. Courage, skill and love will be stretched to the limits on the isolated boundaries of The Dark Land
I have provided a link to where you can check out Beth’s book and her writing advice
“Literature adds to
reality, it does not simply describe it. It enriches the necessary competencies
that daily life requires and provides; and in this respect, it irrigates the
deserts that our lives have already become.” CS Lewis
I had the pleasure of being asked to do an honest
review of Beth Anderson’s young adult, dystopian fantasy novel The Frost Eater;
book one of The Magic Eater’s Trilogy. I have always been a fan of fantasy and
all of its sub-genres. I spent many hours in my youngest years reading books like
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I progressed to Anne Mc Caffrey’s blend
of fantasy and science fiction. By my teenage years I began books like Dragon Lance
series and the Wheel of Time. While I don’t write fantasy myself at this time,
I admire writers who have the capability of building unique new worlds without
bogging the story down.
According to the above article, Dystopia is an antonym for Utopia. In contrast to a perfect society described by Sir Thomas Moore in his book written in 1516, a Dystopian society is dark, impoverished, and inhumane.
Beth does a good job of easing into the dystopian
theme in the Frost Eater. Her novel is set 200 years after a cataclysmic
disaster wiped out most of the planet Anyari’s population. Anyari is a future
colony of earth that has been cut off from its home planet for some time. It
thrived until the event known as “the Day.” A mysterious orange stone pulled
from the ground unleashed a deadly wave of radiation. It killed most of the
planet, destroying technology. The survivors discovered it had also created
magic creatures and capabilities amongst the once humans inhabiting the planet.
THEME
Blend of Science Fiction and Fantasy
Beth’s novel reminds me of Anne McCaffrey’s style of blending
science fiction and fantasy. One of the things Beth does well here is leaving some
information open to questions. I think some science fiction writers feel they
have to describe EVERY detail of the science behind their stories. I
almost want to scream at them that they’re writing fiction, not a tech manual
or survival guide. If I want that, I’ll shop in the non-fiction section,
thanks. It’s great to leave some things open to question, even debate.
Especially in writing targeted toward the young adult crowd. Beth’s story
provides just enough to spark questions like:
Could radiation have such and effect on
the planet? What are some of the things that are considered global killers by
scientists?
How does solar power work? Why can’t they
just turn it back on?
Energy sources—unless they had large
animals/plant life decaying millions of years prior, the planet is just not
going to have large hydrocarbon deposits. What other energy sources might people
colonizing another planet use?
How will we travel to distant planets?
What are the challenges of surviving
interstellar travel and still being able to reproduce?
Could we grow food on a planet with
different conditions than our own? Could we eat the plants and animals that may
already be there?
What are the consequences of a losing technology
once you are dependent on it? Surviving a disaster is one thing, but then
surviving the lack of technology might be another.
I’ve mentioned this reference in previous
posts, but a great source of information on life on other planets and how many “habitable”
planets may exist in the universe is Wait but Why’s article, The Fermi Paradox
by Tim Urban:
Her story sparks many more interesting questions about
birth control, feminine hygiene products, clothes, many things we take for granted
in a modern society when we have plentiful energy. As an electrical engineer, I
think her story makes for great talking points amongst young people about not
only how to solve this problem if there was no energy, but how much of this do
we waste right now on what we don’t need. Many have a pessimistic attitude of
the state of the planet and what the future holds. I can understand why. Things
are not in the best of conditions. But I for one have hope. People pick on the
next generation, but I work with young people on a regular basis, and I see a
generation asking questions, rejecting the status quo. These questions are the
sparks of ideas that will turn the tide.
SHOWING vs. TELLING
DATA DUMPING AND EXPOSITION
Sometimes fantasy and science fiction novels lend themselves toward data-dumping and too much exposition that bogs down the plot. Beth does a great job of giving out the background behind “The Day,” in little snippets throughout the story. She does this the form of excepts from history written by the first survivors of the cataclysm. This allows her to maintain the pace of the story but gives the reader insight and history. She matched the excerpts very well with the theme of each chapter.
CHARACTERS
Magical Powers or Mutant Capabilities?
“What we call Man’s power over Nature turns out to be a power exercised by some men over other men with Nature as its instrument.” CS Lewis
I really enjoy the Marvel X-men series. Super Villain Magneto
is one of my favorite characters. His fears of being exterminated by humans for
his differences are founded on his past experiences. In the Frost Eater, this
trope is turned on its head. It is the people with magic capabilities that have
become royalty, and the people without are commoners. The friction between the
two factions is growing.
Princess Nora Abrios
One of the trends in fiction that bothers me is the
rise of the “bad-ass” female stereotype trope. In my opinion, this has become
worse than the dreaded “Mary Sue.” In the name of feminism, I see a lot of writers
striving for the ruthless “alpha” female. She is better than any man—dammit! She
is going to prove it any way she has to, with no help from anyone. She can
out-smart, out-fight, out-drink, out-cuss and out-sex any man or woman for that
matter. Set up on a pedestal, she has a long hard way to fall, but never does,
of course.
As a woman who has worked in a male dominated
profession for over 20 years now, this really defeats the purpose. I can only
speak for myself, but my professional success as an electrical engineer, operator
and technician has been my ability to recognize my strengths and weaknesses and
continue to grow and develop over time. While there are times insecurity creeps
in, my success has had nothing to do with being better than anyone.
This also runs the risk of making a character
unrelatable. Unlike Mary Sue or the “Super-Alpha-female,” no one is perfect. As
readers, we fall in love with flawed characters and their insecurities that
remind us of ourselves. It’s great to have a larger than life character, but
there has to be believability.
What Beth depicts in her female lead here is far
better. She shows honest character development that reminded me of my own high
school years. Was I a beautiful, rich princess on an alien planet? No. But I
was young with hopes, desires and insecurities about where I belonged in the
world and my future.
The pampered, sheltered Princess Nora has never experienced
the true hardships the commoners of Cellerin face. She also has no real friends,
which leaves her naïve, lonely and bored. Surrounded by adults in a world where
she knows that someday she will face the pressures of running the kingdom, it
leads her to befriend the enigmatic Krey. He is a Frost Eater like herself and
has talents that no one else is willing to teach her. As her eyes become open
to what is really going on, she begins to mature. She also develops latent
magical capabilities. While she always dreamed of having these powers, they will
alter the course of their quest and even her own destiny as Princess.
Her loss of innocence as she discovers the truth about
herself and her family is what bridges the gap to real friendship between
herself and her companions. It also gives her credibility that she really will have
what it takes to be a competent ruler someday.
Kreyven West
Krey has a huge chip on his shoulder when it comes to
the royal family and an ulterior motive for grudgingly accepting Nora’s friendship.
He is on a quest to find his girlfriend Zeisha. He was told she left for an apprenticeship,
and subsequently sent him a letter coldly breaking off their relationship.
Certain the note was fake, he is determined to find her. Even with his mistrust
of the royal family and his belief that they are behind Zeisha’s disappearance
the slow development of their friendship is heartwarming and believable.
The one thing I would say that could have been done
better here was a few more hints as to why he mistrusts the royals over the
beginning parts of the book. Maybe more flashbacks to the reason without coming
out and saying it (avoiding spoilers the best I can here). We’re bombarded with
his anger and his constantly being nasty to Nora which starts to make me resent
him. She puts up with it because she’s lonely, wants a friend, and wants to
learn more about being a Frost Eater. Frankly there’s times in the book I would
have told him to get over it or explain why.* At the scene where he finally ‘fesses
up, it is because of the character in the story I like to call “the voice of
reason.” Almost like Samwise Gamgee in the LOTR trilogy, this person usually
the calm, logical, collected one. In the Frost Eater, its Beth’s character, Ovrun.
*Just to be clear—this is a very minor
dislike and just my personal opinion, otherwise, great character development.
And I understand why she might not want to reveal much as it might take impact
away from “the big reveal scene” you could argue the point either way.
Ovrun
Ovrun starts out a secondary character in the story,
but becomes a stronger presence in the adventure as the story unfolds. Nora’s
crush, he loses his job as a royal guard for the sake of helping the two on
their quest to find Zeisha and the truth. His logic and practicality during the
action and tough situations is a great foil to Krey’s recklessness and Nora’s
naivety. I really enjoyed the slow burn of romance between Nora and Ovrun. Beth
builds on genuine conflict between the princess and the commoner. At first it
comes off as just teenage hormonal passion, but as the story progresses, they
realize they have something deeper. A real future together may not happen since
she is expected to have her future husband chosen for her, and that future
husband has to have magical capability (which he doesn’t). This prevents them from
acting further on their romance, but you can cut the tension between the two
with a knife by the end.
“Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive.” CS Lewis
As the three teens
travel into the “abandoned” cities on Anyari, searching for Zeisha, the bond
between them grows. They test the limits of their magical capabilities and the
bond of friendship. The vivid images of a decaying modern city gave me the
chills. High rise buildings filled with bones, crumbling light rail lines
suspended in mid-air, and empty streets decaying in the sun were all easy to
visualize. While the city is “abandoned” it is not empty. The teens encounter Troggs,
the people they have been taught are savages. There will be many things that
make them question their upbringing and what is right and wrong. It is clear
from the beginning of the story that the government has something to do with
the disappearance of the young people with magic capabilities. By the end of
the story, all three will have to decide where they will make their stand. With
each other, or the life they once knew.
The Frost Eater, Beth’s first book in the Magic Eaters Trilogy leaves the reader hungry for more. Unlike some dystopian novels, I would argue there is a sense of hope that our young people will prevail, though it will be a tough rough ahead. I can’t wait to see where she takes us in the next offering, The Vine Eater.
Thanks for reading my review of The Frost Eater. This week is a double header. Be sure to check out my review of Stephen Coghlan’s 50 Shades of Neigh.
Next week’s blog will
be about my upcoming battery study planned for this summer at the cabin in
Chicken, AK.
I obtained my CS Lewis
quotes from the website below:
Truths Behind the Myths: a look at the locations, myths and legends of the Alaska interior,
Bigfoot
Sasquatch
Ceptid
Chupacabra
Banshee
Draugr
Mothman
The list goes on and on…famous creatures of various cultures.
We call them myths as we snuggle in our modern, warm homes.
Secure in the safety of LED electric lights we laugh with our knowledge that science
has proven these creatures don’t exist. Maybe by a campfire in the woods we
concoct bloodcurdling tales to make ourselves shiver by the firelight for sheer
entertainment. Hollywood embellishes on these themes with fake blood and
special effects. We munch on popcorn, shudder and turn off the TV. Complacency
and normalcy returning. But a chill always haunts the back of our minds.
Echoing back to prehistoric times when we only had fire to ward off the
darkness.
The cabin at night.
I think that faint echo is the wonder. The grain of truth behind the tale. As an author, I find inspiration all around me here in the “Last Frontier.” Both in my own and my husband’s adventures in the interior of Alaska. In a previous blog, I went into detail about the Legend of the Cet’aeni and the Ahtna people, which were part of the inspiration for my story the Dark Land. In this blog I will go into further detail about other adventures that sparked my imagination.
A Summer Hike
My husband at one point recounted for me a tale he heard
from some of our Athabascan friends about mysterious creatures of legend that
lopped off heads and played with them. This stuck out in his mind because he and
his brother homesteaded for several years in a remote region of Alaska near
Slana. He had heard this tale, but it wasn’t until a hiking trip on a summer day,
he started to question whether it was true.
Mt. Sanford, Wrangell-St Elias National Park from the Nabesna side looking south
Ray would often go on hikes in the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park from the Nabesna side. On this particular day, he chose to hike past a junction of Tenada Creek and the Copper River, near a place called, “Batzulntas.” To the Athabascan Nabesna Tribes who refer to themselves as “People of the Headwaters,” this word means “Roasted Salmon Place.” When he stopped at the visitor center and let them know where he was going, the local guide advised him not to go alone—let alone at all. While the Batzulntas was a popular local fish camp, beyond that was considered to be an evil place where unwelcome spirits dwelled. A place where people didn’t belong. Ray thanked him for his advice and started his hike. It was a bright summer day, and he thought that there couldn’t be anything too terribly dark lurking in the woods.
He got a few miles into his hike then said that everything grew
eerily quiet and still. He sensed that eyes were watching him from the deeper
spruce forest. Menace and evil permeated the summer day like a fog. Spooked, he
turned and ran the whole way back to the trail head.
Now Ray is a pretty fearless guy. He’s climbed Denali, skied the Alaska Range and worked in all kinds of remote Alaska wilderness. But to this day, he refuses to go back there. He concedes there was something there in the woods that didn’t want him there.
He and I talked at length about the various creatures of the
Alaska Back country. The Athabascan people have unique stories and songs
related to their land that you can find here:
As I mentioned before, what about the grain of truth behind a tale? One of the other inspirations for my story The Dark Land, was the Nahanni Valley in British Colombia. It is also referred to as the Headless Valley. The Dene First Peoples in Canada have oral legends revolving around this area, but nothing written. Much like the Tanaiana, Hwechin, and Ahtna Athabascan tribes, this is a sacred area. It is off-limits to outsiders. In modern times, it requires special permission and permits in order to explore this region.
Articles about Nahanni Valley of the Headless Corpses
While the Dene, Hwechin, Ahtna, and Tanaina tribes are separated
by harsh terrain and extreme conditions, it is fascinating that they share similar
lore about creatures in the forest that remove heads. They also have areas that
are considered to be “no man’s land.”
Man vs Nature & Man vs Supernatural
These common themes became the inspiration for my horror novella set in the backcountry of the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park in winter. Man vs Nature is a common theme in literature. The Alaska backcountry is harsh and unforgiving enough. But when you throw in the element of supernatural—creatures that have evolved to thrive in the extreme environment, while humans only have their limited brain and skills. That cuts to the thrill of visceral horror. Can humans come out on top of both at the end? Or will the eerie howl in the night prevail?
The Legend of Alaska’s Headless Ravine is steeped in Blood. Its hunger for human flesh never sleeps, even in the deepest cold of winter. Courage, skill and love will be stretched to the limits on the isolated trails of, The Dark Land.
Thanks for reading! Sign up for my newsletter for a sneak peak of The Devil’s Valley, sequel to The Dark Land (coming May of 2021) .
A side-trip on our visit to Dawson as part of my research for my Historical Fiction novel, A Drink of Darkness
There were two ways to get to the Klondike goldfields during the stampede of 1898. There was the treacherous and shorter (by mileage) overland route from Skagway over the Chilkoot or White Passes, then float the Yukon River from Bennet Lake through Carmacks up to Dawson. This route took longer (4 months on average), and could only be done when the passes were open. It could also only be done by those willing and able to pack the 1000 lbs of gear necessary to cross the Canadian border. The passes were too steep for horses, so the gear had to be packed by hand. It took a person on average 40 trips to lug the gear the 33 miles over the Chilkoot to Lake Lindeman.
Avalanches were common. Once the prospectors crossed White Pass, they built boats at Bennet Lake, the headwater of the Yukon (or Lindeman if they took the Chilkoot) . According to the RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police) over 7,000 boats, some of questionable seaworthiness were built and launched in the spring of 1898. But it was not smooth sailing. They faced the White Horse Rapids. Their choices were to either to shoot the rapids, or pack their gear around. After many rafts and canoes were lost in the rapids, the RCMP decreed that women could not shoot the rapids, but had to hike around. Klondike Kate (mentioned in a previous blog) is famous for having defied this order. She hopped into a raft at the last minute before they could stop her.
Klondike Kate Rockwell, Queen of the Klondike ASL-P41-056 P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904.
The longer route was by steamer from Seattle to St. Michael, then by Sternwheel (Paddleboat) up the Yukon to Dawson. The total trip usually took about 8 days (4 days travel up the Yukon). But in the summer of 1898, the year my main character Helena travels to meet her husband in Dawson City, water levels were notoriously low. The boat trip up the Yukon stretched into over a week. The boats ran out of food as they slogged the 1600 miles to the “Paris of the North.” This still seems like better option compared to 4 months on the trail, but it was expensive. Not only did you still need to have the 1000lbs of gear, you had to be able to afford a ticket on the boats. They were often overcrowded, dirty, unmaintained and got stuck often in the slow, muddy Yukon River.
Stermwheeler the Keno in Dawson City, YT
They also could only run when this massive Northern River was free of ice. Break-up in the spring of 1898 (not necessarily ice-free) was May 8. The first paddlewheels did not get to Dawson until June. The last steamer out with a load of gold was mid-September. Freeze-up was October 31. This was a narrow travel window for those coming to Dawson in the pursuit of gold.
Yukon River, looking north from Midnight Dome
On our recent trip to Dawson we decided to take a tour of
the Sternwheel Graveyard. We heard about it only by chance as we were researching
things to do in Dawson. It is not located in Dawson City, but on the West side
of the Yukon River. To get to the graveyard from Dawson, take the ferry across
the river to the Yukon River campground. You’ll have to park then walk through
the campground, then north along the river bank.
Approaching the Sternwheeler Graveyard from the campground from the river. The Julia B is the first sternwheeler visible.
This site by Murray Lundburg has comprehensive information
about the Sternwheeler Graveyard. Murray has been visiting the site since 1990
and has complied pictures of the decay of the wreckage over the years. He has
also done a great job of putting together the known history of the site. Rather
than try to duplicate his work I have included his link below:
You can see information about the 7 ships that were originally believed to have been abandoned at the site, along with an original picture from 1938 of the Julia B (the sternwheeler closest to the Yukon). He also includes a comprehensive list of the boats that travelled the Yukon and the dates they were believed to have been in service. For the purpose of my story, I used the Alice, as I know from references this boat brought the Sisters of St. Ann to Dawson in August of 1898 to work for Father Judge as nurses at St. Mary’s hospital.
Here our some of our photos of the graveyard in August of
2019:
View from the bank of the Yukon:
The Julia BJulia B’s boiler. Kind of made us wonder if it was the inspiration for “The Cremation of Sam McGee,” by Robert Service.Seattle No 3 can barely be read anymore. The letttering is almost completely weathered away.Seattle No 3 wreckage (in color)Seattle No 3 (in black and white..just for fun)Hull of unknown sternwheeler slightly upriver of the 3 main boatsRemnants of the paddlewheel of the Schwatka, slowly being taken over by the forest.Julia B’s paddlewheel rotor, wooden paddles completely gone.
If you are heading to Dawson and would like a unique
activity, I would highly recommend this excursion. As you can tell from these
pictures, this is a hazardous location with unstable structures. If you chose
to venture forth, please do not enter or climb onto any of the wreckage or take
“souvenirs.” Sturdy hiking boots are highly recommended.
Me standing with the paddlewheel of the SchwatkaThe Dark Land, Available on Amazon
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The legend of the Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. The Dark Land’s hunger for human flesh never sleeps, even in the deepest cold of winter
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I’ve been compiling my tweets about my character who is on the run and her hot friend Connor who is trying to help her. escape. Thought I would put them all in one place. Enjoy!
“Let me
take you to my place for a drink, sweetheart.”
She looked
up from her father’s coffin and her heart hammered. His goons guarded every
exit. Her father’s death was a set-up. A ruse to lure her back here-to his
domain.
She
swallowed hard. I need to escape.
His hair
came to a widow’s peak over his onyx eyes, reminding her of the vampire movies
she used to watch with her father. She looked away, back to the casket.
Then it came
to her. “I’ll have a drink. Just let me powder my nose.”
“Sure
doll.”
She turned
on the faucets and fan as if to cover the bad smells. Her father had just been
the gardener-a simple man saving up to send her to school.
She sent a
text to Conor: I NEED YOU.
Why the hell
did I wear a skirt, she thought gazing at the window.
The blood
stained her sleeve vermillion. She ignored the pain from the cut and sprinted
into the darkness. I should have known Giovanni’s concern for my father and me
wasn’t altruistic. Now father is dead. I need to get out of town.
No reply
from Connor.
The city
came into view as she emerged from the woods. Sapphire, vermillion, emerald and
gold lights twinkled in the distance. Giovanni ruled it all, she would find no
safe haven in his city. She looked back toward the cemetery and the church.
I have to
try.
She felt
sanguine as the woman cleaned the wound on her arm. She’d been lucky to find
this cottage on the border of the city. Her phone buzzed as she took another
sip of the warm soup the woman had poured.
CONNOR GET
OUT OF THAT FARMHOUSE NOW-ITS A TRAP
Her head
spun as she rose to her feet. The woman clutched at the border of the table
cloth with her gnarled hands, weathered eyes filling with tears. “I’m
sorry, I had to. Giovanni-” She didn’t stay to hear her defense. She
bolted for the door.
She snatched
a set of keys on her way out the door and climbed in the rusty ford covered in
dust in the drive way. Belts screeching in protest as it clunked to life, she
pointed it to the county border. It was better than nothing. CONNOR: I’M ON MY
WAY
The car
bellowed smoke, giving one last shudder before coasting to a stop next to a
concrete barrier. She tapped her fingers against the cracked vinyl, temples
throbbing. The sign in the dying headlights read: THE RENEGADE DEITY No other
choice
She sifted through the bowl of curry, the Renegade Deity’s special for the night. Her heart nearly stopped when she felt his hand on her shoulder. A strange duality. Connor was a ruthless assassin, but she’d never felt such love.
Connor
curled his arm around her. “I don’t know what game Gio is playing, but we’ll
get you out of town—out of this mess”
“You know
that my father is dead?”
He clutched
her closer, “WHAT?”
The door
chimed as a party of 4 entered.
Connor was
the only thing keeping her hope from descending into a tailspin. She recognized
the party of men dressed in black as Gio’s thugs from the funeral parlor.
“We
don’t want a quarrel with you, we’re just here to collect Gio’s girl” Tony
told Connor
Her fingers
curled around the gun Connor slipped her under the table.
“Don’t be
stubborn, Doll,” Tony said.
“For my
father,” she said as she stomped past the fallen collection party.
Connor
tossed a wad of cash to the waitress.
“Sorry for
the mess.”
The drove in
silence all the way back to his safe house. In between shifting the gears on
the Porsche he clutched her hand in his.
As soon as
the door closed, their passion erupted like a volcanic explosion. Connor
pressed her against the wall, plundering her mouth. She shamelessly explored
his body with her hands.
He pulled
back, caressing her face, “I’ll never let Gio hurt you.”
She kept her
legs shamelessly draped around his hips. Connor tangled his free hand in her
hair, pressing his lips to her temple. “So what happened to your father—when?”
he asked.
“I
don’t know. They claimed it was an accident.”
“I know
them-it wasn’t”
She let her
head collapse against his chest as she took deep breaths, struggling to control
her emotions. “Giovanni killed my father to lure me back here-an innocent
old man who never hurt anyone.” Connor continued to stroke her hair and
kiss her forehead. “It’s okay.”
“I never imagined Giovanni would become so evil, Connor. We all grew up together. Even though I was just the gardener’s daughter, his father included us at their parties—treated us like family.
“Power
corrupts,” Connor said. “We need to get you out of his reach.”
He kissed
her again before getting out of bed. The low light filtering through the window
cast shadows on his lean muscled body as he moved around the room, getting
dressed.
“Giovanni is
Rodrigo’s favorite son, but his power is still nascent. He’s overstepped his
bounds,” Connor said. “Stay here. I’m going to find out what Rodrigo knows
about your father. He loved him as I did. He has no tolerance for treachery.
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.
“She is all nerve as she enters the room and surveys the waiting crowd…the dance hall girl is industrious. She is never vacillating or undecided, she is persevering. She does not flit about the room bestowing a smile here a caress there and again a pouting neglect. When she selects her victim, she stays with him. The more marked her favor, the greater is his triumph. He needs her to complete a spectacle of himself as a favored beau…” -1 pg. 56
My historical romance, A Drink of Darkness has been just as much fun to research as to write. Set in the Yukon Gold-rush boom-town of Dawson City in 1898, I have spent a lot of time gathering information about the setting and the people of Dawson.
My Saloon Girl Helena, and my vampire ladies of the night Eve, Bianca and Liz are complete works of fiction, but I drew my inspiration from reality. I used many sources for my writing, but one of my favorites was Lael Morgan’s Good Time Girls of the Alaska-Yukon Gold Rush.
This was one of the first books I picked up when I moved to Alaska 12 years ago, and it is a great resource on these women who were an integral part of pioneering what is still referred to as the last frontier. Her book follows the ladies through the entire rush. My post will stick to a specific location and time period for now. I decided to put together this short blog post to pay homage to this reference and to these unique, real ladies of Dawson City in 1898.
Here is a link to Lael Morgan’s fascinating book and where you can buy it on Amazon if you are interested
Ms. Morgan uses photo’s from the various archives and stories of these women’s lives to show how they shaped not only the Gold Rush, but Alaska and the Yukon Territory’s fate. It is a fascinating journey through an era where women were forbidden from: owning a Saloon, wearing bloomers, and in some areas prospecting or owning a claim. Prostitution was illegal in the Yukon and Alaska territory, but law enforcement looked the other way and often protected these ladies, seeing the services they provided as a necessary evil to keep the lusts of the men at bay, lest they take it out on “respectable women.” These women came north, often packing their gear themselves over the treacherous Chilkoot Pass or taking the 1600 mile all-steamer-route.
Federal Judge James Wickersham, who presided over Alaska
during this time kept a collection of pictures of these ladies (which can be
accessed via the Alaska Digital Archives). He spoke well of the “Good Time
Girls.”
“The sporting women were of a more robust class than usual among their kind, hence there were fewer cases of venereal disease among them…The women were also younger, more vigorous and independent than those of the same class in the older more crowded communities in the states…” -1 pg. 19
He later went on to say:
“A goodly number of these women yielded to the persuasions of their favorite male customers, quit the life of the dance hall or the bawdy house, and calmly settled down to a quiet home life with their husbands…It quite frequently became my duty as judge to perform marriages for persons of that class and more often that not the marriages were successful.” 1-pg. 51
While this sounds really sweet and romantic, history (and Ms. Morgan’s book) paints a slightly different picture. The hardships and economics of the decisions could be very persuasive. The cost of living was high. Rent on a basic cabin or tent in Dawson could be $30 a month, not counting food. To stay single and in a “respectable job” (nurse, school teacher, secretary were a few of the limited options), these jobs only paid around $20-$30 a month, if that. They were literally skewed to force these women to marry-or to consider less than respectable options.
A saloon girl could make a base pay pouring whiskey of $40 a
week, plus 50% of every drink or bottle she could sell, plus tips. Easily
clearing hundreds of dollars a week if she could hustle and was pretty. Dance
Hall, or “Hurdy-gurdy” girls made a dollar a dance or a drink plus tips—and the
men tipped generously for the privilege. Girls managed to squeeze in over 100
short dances a night. The prostitutes (at least the attractive ones) could make
upwards of $250 a night. Meanwhile marriage was a gamble. Mortality rates were
high. There was no guarantee that a miner would find (and keep) a good claim.
Even if he did, if he happened to die, she could lose the claim, not having the
ability to work it herself.
This sounds cold and calculating, but in a town (and time) where men outnumbered the women by a landslide, these women didn’t come north to find husbands. They came north to make a fortune, just as the men did. And they did it the only way society would allow. I am not going to go into deep detail, if you want that, please read Ms. Morgan’s book, but here are a few of their pictures and stories.
**All of the pictures below courtesy of the Alaska Digital Archives. For permissions on usage of photos, please follow the instructions on their web page: https://vilda.alaska.edu/
Rose Blumkin, The Fairy of Dawson
Rose Blumkin, the Fairy of Dawson and later Nome. Image ASL-P-277-001-185 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
She worked officially as a Dance Hall and ticket girl at the
Monte Carlo theater (though she couldn’t dance or sing), but her love of fine
jewels and ball gowns (and her police record) suggests she did a lot of work
between the sheets to support her lavish spending. After her stint in Dawson
she moved to Nome with the rush.
Golden Belt
Gold nugget belt made for Rose Blumkin. Image UAF-1964-92-278 Selid-Bassoc Photograph Collection
A picture of a belt of gold nuggets commissioned by one of
the “Kings of Dawson” to be made for Rose. From reading Ms. Morgan’s books, the
men, coming into these insane fortunes had little to spend it on other than
whiskey and women. To show their newfound prowess in finding gold, they
lavished it on the good time girls—to the extreme. Their mindset was, if I need
more, I can just dig it out of my claim.
Menawhile, one of my favorite quotes from Diamondtooth Gertie
Lovejoy:
“The poor Ginks just gotta’ spend it…they’re scared they’ll die before they get it out of the ground.” 1-pg. 58
While arrested (and fined) for running a house of prostitution, Babe Wallace did well enough that she was able to import a piano to her establishment. She eventually left the Yukon, but died young in 1911.
The Oregon Mare
The Oregon Mare, Ethel Nellie ASL-P-277-001-192 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
One of the things that I found highly amusing in my research
was some of the creative nicknames of the ladies: the Swedish Queen, Nellie “the
Pig” Lamore, Diamond Tooth Gertie, etc. I used this in my writing, creating my own
nicknames for my working gals. This is a photograph of a lady known as the Oregon
Mare, real name of Ethel Nellie. A popular prostitute in the early days of
Dawson. She is even mentioned in a Robert Service poem. Considering he got to Dawson
in 1908, long after the initial rush, Ethel would have moved on by then, he
would have known her by legend only.
The Dutch Kid
“The Dutch Kid” ASL-P-277-001-186 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
This is a photo from Judge Wickersham’s collection. He
withheld her real name, only noting that later she became a nurse. Often times
when the ladies would leave the “profession” (and the region), they would do
everything they could to conceal their past. Their husbands and families were
often eager to assist. Some speculate that this lady was actually the first prostitute
into the region.
The Gypsy Queen
The Gypsy Queen ASL-P-277-001-193 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
As previously mentioned, not all the ladies were prostitutes. Here is a picture of the Gypsy Queen, Mrs. Curly Monroe, wife of a local Saloon owner.
Lucy Lovell was a popular American actress who had toured the London stage and decided to give the north a try. She made her fortune in the Klondike. Unfortunately, she contracted tuberculosis during her tour of the territory. She retired to Arizona and passed away shortly thereafter.
May Stanley
May Stanley, Dance Hall and Whiskey Girl ASL-P-277-001-183 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
May Stanley worked as a Dance Hall girl, selling whiskey and dances with men (which was legal). Morgan’s research indicates that since her name does not appear in any police reports linked with prostitution that she never worked as a call girl. My character Helena’s job is modeled after girls like her, trying to make a living without selling themselves.
Klondike Kate “The Belle of the Yukon, the Sweetheart of the Sourdoughs” 1-pg 157
Klondike Kate Rockwell, Queen of the Klondike ASL-P-41-56 P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904. ASL-PCA-41
And of course, the most famous and bold of the Dawson girls. Born Eloisa Rockwell in 1876 in Kansas. Technically, she didn’t get to Dawson until 1900 (though she would have been in Seattle and Skagway at the time), so I can’t include her as part of my story, but I have to mention her. She made and lost a fortune as a Good-time girl. She was known for putting on quite a show. In one act, she would wear a skimpy leotard and roller skate around the stage (skimpy for the era). In her famous “Flame Dance”, she wore yards of sheer chiffon had fans blow it about her while she shimmed in front of red lights.
Ms. Morgan’s book and the Alaska Digital Archives have been a treasure trove of information on the period. I hope you have enjoyed my post about them and will check out her book and the archives! maybe someday A Drink of Darkness will see the light of day as well…only time will tell!
References
Morgan, Lael; Good Time Girls of the Alaska-Yukon Gold Rush. Epicenter Press, Inc, 1998.
The Dark Land, Available on Amazon
Thanks for reading! My Alaska horror novella is currently available on Amazon:
The legend of Alaska’s Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. Its hunger for human flesh never sleeps-even in the deepest cold of winter. Courage, skill and love will be stretched to the limits in the isolated boundaries of The Dark Land
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.
