PRINT ADS

Today I vacuumed the rugs in the kitchen, washed dishes, did three loads of laundry, folded a dozen sheets and towels and weeded in the garden. Was this at Ridgeville where I was having so much fun? This was in Skagway, Alaska, where I have been for the past two weeks. I’m staying at the Skagway Home Hostel where my official title is assistant to the houseparent Nancy Schave.

Although I am doing routine household tasks, I look out any of these windows and see the mountains, tree covered with western hemlock and Sitka spruce up to the timberline. Above that is snow white snow, splashed about on barren rocks. From my bedroom window I can see Harding Glacier. Has it moved an inch or two since I’ve been here? Every time I go outside, I am compelled to look up, up up to the mountain peaks that tower over and partly surround this Alaskan town of 840. When I lift up mine eyes unto the hills, I have to lift them higher in Skagway, Alaska.

The Skagway Home Hostel is a busy place, capacity 22 plus Frank and Nancy and their granddaughter Dainean, 9 years old. So far I have met men and women from Sweden, Australia, Czech Republic, Spain, Minnesota, England, Utah, Manitoba, Holland, Michigan, Quebec, Connecticut, Germany, Switzerland, Israel, South Carolina and North Pole, Alaska. We are like ships that pass in the night. People of all ages and families stay one night or two before moving on, hiking the Chilkoot Trail, traveling on to another hostel or campground, or going home. They come by car or train or arrive on one of the ferrys which docks just a few blocks away. Carrying heavy backpacks, they walk in the door. Most have reservations; a few ask, “Do you have room for tonight?”

They are not seeking gold as did the stampeders in 1897 when gold was discovered in the Yukon Territory. Skagway was the jumping off place for thousands of men and women to begin the 600-mile trek to the gold fields. They were seeking their fortune. Newcomers today may be seeking a sense of history from Skagway which still has the ambiance of a frontier town. I had been here twice, driving here in 1997 with Edwin for a couple days, and flying here with James in 2003 when we hiked the Chilkoot Trail. Both times I felt I wanted to stay longer in Skagway that seemed to have the spirit of the frontier where the excitement of Gold Rush Days still flourished.

James and I had stayed at the Home Hostel. Having some connection with that place, I wrote the houseparents telling them I’d like to live in Skagway in July and asking if they had a place for me to stay and any work. I also went on the internet and found listings for a tugboat captain, a helicopter mechanic, and a tour bus driver who knew CPR and I placed an ad in the Skagway News, knowing I was limiting myself to any full-time employment. Fortunately, when Nancy wrote back she offered me lodging and a job, my two requirements fulfilled.

The house where I am living was built in 1899/1900 so it’s an historical setting. Nancy, who was an education consultant and superintendent of schools, and Frank, an Alaskan bush pilot and director of operations for Ryan Air, bought this house in 1989. Both in their 60s now, they were in their 50s when they hiked the entire Appalachian Trail in six months. In Skagway Nancy has been a park ranger (backcountry law enforcement) and hiked the Chilkoot “over and over and over again,” she said. Frank works for Skagway’s parks department. They are a no nonsense, competent, compassionate couple that knows the answer to every question a hosteller asks, Nancy in Spanish if needed. For the past 19 years they have opened their home to people who come as strangers and leave as friends.

Most of this first week’s focus has been on getting ready for the Fourth of July in Skagway, beginning with fireworks over the harbor on July 3 at 11:30 p.m. If that sounds late it was, but then it wasn’t dark until ll:00. I walked out on the pier over the Lynn Canal with Frank and Dainean (Nancy as she always does, meeting the 11:00 ferry). The day had been warm and sunny in the 70s but the night air coming off the water was cool. “The town spent $15,000 for fireworks,” Frank told me, and it was worth it. We saw the explosions of fireworks high over the water. As they burst in the air, loud, booming sounds echoed off the mountains like thunderous applause.

On July 4th the Skagway News sponsored a 5K run at 8 in the morning. About 30 people showed up in the rain; I registered, too, as a walker and I won in my category The Women’s Masters 45 and over. My time was one hour, eight minutes and three seconds which could have been less except that a nice older lady just off a cruise ship stopped me to ask directions. Okay, I’ll admit it; I was the only one in my category and I earned a prize because I finished last.

A wonderful parade marched seven blocks up Broadway and since this is a small town, marched back again so we saw everything twice: a bagpipers unit from Whitehorse, Canada, the green plaid kilts representing the McKenzie Clan; Dawson City’s community band; floats of gold seekers and more; dance hall girls; Nancy and her clowns; the Tlingit Indian dance team dressed in colorful, traditional red and black regalia; fire engines, and the RCMP, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. That fulfilled a dream of mine to see the Mounted Police in their traditional red and black uniforms only worn these days for special occasions.

Special contests of strength for anyone willing to participate were held in arm wrestling, a tug of war, and driving railroad spikes. Street music, food and an egg throw added to the festivities of the day, old fashioned, traditional, family fun.

Some things in Skagway are just like home.

The column, Journal Entry from Ridgeville, is a bi-monthly feature of the Tomah Journal written by Lyda Lanier, 20964 Cty. Hwy. A, Tomah