The Klondike cancan

Thursday, June 28, 2007

WHITEHORSE, YK — Technically, our day began just after midnight when we went to the Whitehorse airport to pick up Mum. She had flown all the way from Ottawa to Vancouver, switched planes and headed north to Whitehorse, so it was a very long day for her! Even at that late hour (12:30 am) there was light in the sky when we brought her back to the trailer.

Our real day began in leisurely fashion, to make allowances for our late night. It was great to catch up on Mum’s news and show her a bit about trailer life. It’s quite luxurious compared to the camping days of the 50s when she and Dad took us five kids to Algonquin Park in canvas tents.

We drove in to town when we were all ready and visited the MacBride Museum. It’s built like an old log cabin complete with sod on the roof, but laid out artistically inside with dioramas of the local wildlife on the main floor and, in the basement, a display explaining the whole gold-digging process from the early days. Outside they had a model NWMP detachment, where prisoners were kept from fleeing by a large lead ball clamped around their ankle and chained to the constable’s desk! There was also a large steam train locomotive with a conductor’s cabin made of wood.

We strolled over to look at the Yukon River just across the street. In the earliest days someone compared the white froth thrown up by the river to the manes of white horses, giving the fledgling community the name it bears to this day.

After a hearty lunch in town, we drove over the river to see the fish ladder. At the time that the river was being dammed, engineers built the fish ladder so as not to interrupt the migration patterns of the salmon that swam upstream every year to spawn and die. The dam was constructed so that the fish would be guided by the current toward the series of terraced pools that would carry them past the obstruction and on to their reproductive fate. The water pours through the dam and swirls over a couple of barriers at enormous speed, churning up white, splashing foam and tumbling on toward the town. More recently a fish hatchery has been added to the facility to ensure the continued survival of the fish. We weren’t able to see any salmon jumping up the ladder because it was too early in the season, but we did see a grayling fish in one of the holding pools; it has a very large dorsal fin unlike any other fish I have seen.

It was time for a rest after our tromping about, so we returned to the trailer for a break, followed by supper. Then it was back to town to attend the Frantic Follies, a wonderful vaudeville-style show about the gold rush days, performed with much energy and humour. The cast did the best rendition of Robert Service’s wonderful poem The Cremation of Sam McGee I have ever seen! I laughed till my sides ached when Sam’s companion tried to stuff his frozen dead body into the furnace on the marge of Lake Lebarge, where he had begged to be finished off rather than to be buried in the frozen north. The men recited corny jokes, the old belle sang nostalgic songs, and the cancan girls kicked up their heels and waved their ruffled skirts to everyone’s delight. It was a great show!