Alan Skeoch

Author: terraviva

  • EPISODE 216 THE YUKON DIARY ..STORY 5 JUNE 11, 1962 TO JULY 2,1962

    EPISODE 216   YUKON DIARY 5   MONDAY JUNE 11, 1962   TO  MONDAY JULY 2, 1962


    RED BEARD

    alan skeoch
    Jan. 3,2021

    OVERVIEW: 1) MEET DR. AHO…famous promotor of the Yukon … buyer of Double OP’s for fools and alcoholics
                                 2) USE A RIVER AS A ROAD…to Silver King  Mine
                                3) MEET BOTH A FAKE AND  A  REAL  BLACK BEAR
                                4) MEET A HIDDEN MAN WITH STRANGE QUESTIONS
                               5) MEET AN ANCIENT BURNED FOREST (and recover some shapes)
                               6) DISCOVERED I WAS PAID  LESS  THAN OTHERS
                              7)  LOSE WEIGHT…we are being sent to Dawson City for 3day  holiday…at our expense

    Diary Entry, Monday June 11, 1962: Arose at 7.30 and cooked a quick French Toast breakfast before packing into the survey site to rev up the motor generator.  Spent another hard day doing lines 11,15,13,17 (2-1500 feet long), and lines 66 (1500), 62 (16-1500),64 (8-1500).  Saw a spruce partridge en route back to camp.  Bill Dunn found an old pick embedded in a tree stump by some long forgotten miner whose trail had disappeared long ago.  We drove to Elsa to do the shopping including several extras — 24 cans general soups, stew, etc, 24 chocolate bars, 3 pints ice cream, 6 feet of garlic sausage, 3 boxes of Cadbury’s chocolate cookies, 1 tube of Jiffy-sew. Back at our camp we awaited the arrival of Dr. Aho and the mail. Both of which never arrived.  My beard is progressing quite well and seems to be red. Imagine that.  Dad was known as Red Skeoch when a kid…proof of my legitimacy maybe.


     Diary. Tuesday June 12, 1962: Awoke early and had luxury of slowly getting ready for the day.  Cooked breakfast for the fellows. Steve Rudnicki arrived and we set off for the base line.  Long cable for Base line #2.  Moved motor generator.  Began reading lines 4,6,8,10,12,14,16 East.  Fell and strained my leg badly.  Bugs are now out in force.  Packed part of equipment out to base camp where I received letters from Marjorie and mom.  Wonderful. Eric has the rhubarb wine working in the cellar at home in Toronto.  Bill Dunn and I walked up to the old shack on the road where the walls are papered with old London Illustraed News papers dating back to World War I. Abandoned log cabins are common here in the Yukon…some found furnished as if builders were going to return sometime but never did.

    Diary, Wednesday June 13, 1962: Arose early and made light breakfast of toast and cereal.  Hard day in bush today. Bill Scott and Steve coiled up part of Base Line #1 while Bill Dunn and i completed Base Line #2.  Completed reading lines 12, 14, 16…all 1600 feet long. While I was taking a reading Steve sneaked up behind me and growled.  I was sure it was a bear just about to grab me…my heart raced.  Spent afternoon hauling cable, more than a mile long.  Then packing out the loads.  Heavy reels of wire exhausted all three of us.  My back has scrapes from the cable  frame digging into my flesh. Drove to Mayo Landing to repair one of the reels…acetylene torch needed.  Tlelegram from Peso Siolver re: survey.  Bill Dunn and I had two rum and cokes while Mabel got our mail.  Pork Hocks and pork and beans at Luigi’s.  Expenses $5 for two dinners.

    Diary, Thursday June 14, 1962: Steve Rudnicki arrived and we coiled the rest of the base line.Spent an hour over a smudge fire trying to drive the mosquitoes away,.  wonder at our loss of blood.  Roasted good length of garlic sausage which was delicious. On way back to camp found several hundred feet of resitivity wire left by previous crew some time ago. In afternoon Bill Dunn and I drove as far as we could by road then hiked to the Gerlitzki claim where we left search guns.  Found great waterfall en route.   Then packed Turam and drove to Elsa to get grub for our last supper in the old miners cabin.  Bought 3 steaks, bottle of whipping cream, one cake mix, 2 cans strawberries.  I baked the cake in the wood stove  and then fried the steaks…backwards dinner. Then packed all equipment including a pick, axe and shovel from the Wernecke mine stopes.  



    The Peso Silver men and our survey and line- cutting teams meet each other on one of the mining roads. There is
    no danger of traffic as we are the only people here (except for one mysterious man seeking information about our survey.)
    No problem so we stop for a beer and share stories.   Nice bunch of men to work with really.   Some First Nations guys
    from the Mayo Landing tribal territory as well.




    Diary, Friday June 15, 1962: Met Bill Dunn in Luigi’s for breakfast then joined by Dr. Aho and Bill Scott.  Wheland Rand arrived at 1 p.m. from Peso Silver Mine and we loaded gear into the GMC four wheel drive.  Marjorie sent me a 2.5 box of nuts from Kingston.  The drive to Peso silver Mine was fantastic. Treacherous road up river beds with water over the running boards. Halfway there we switched to  D6 Cat with wagon and drove up the river between the mountains for several miles then switched to an old Dodge Power Wagon with elevated body.  Sometimes the angle of the so called road was 45 degrees. Reached Peso at 7.20 p.m.  Site was on edge of a cliff. This would not be an easy job.  Met new crew.   HIlls are all very steep …some seem vertical;.  Good supper though in the cook house.
    Fluff, the baby rabbit raised hell all night as she did not like the cardboard box.   Our tent is white which makes night seem  like day…too bright to fall asleep.





    Expenses:  Boots and KiT  $5.80, Meals $3.50, Chocolate 70 cents

    Diary, Saturday, June 16, 1962: On the job by 7 a.m. Carried motor generator to site and strung out base line cable.  Put grounding rods #1 in Secret Creek while ground #2 is in the saddle on Eastern ridge.  Resistance 540 ohms. The high altitude and exceptionally steep slopes made Bill and I feel weak. Heart racing very fast.  Mosquito bites are so numerous that my whole body seems swollen.  The project looks quite difficult due to the steep hills…very rough following lines.  Worried that squirrels will cut the base line.  Spent evening setting up tent for our living quarters…built a 
    table and several shelves.  Hung up Marjorie’s photograph above my so called bed…a piece of canvas stretched over wire hoops.  The new fellows trooped in and introduced themselves.  Had coffee and went to bed.



    Sunday June 17, 1962:


    ON job by 8 a.m.  Motor is not kicking out enough current…only o.2 amps at 240 watts. 
    did  line w 4 Bm w t N.  Storm hit and soaked us. Returned to camp to dry the instrument then coninued
    after lunching lines W18W, W18S, W16N, W16S,…total for the day was 10,500 line feet.  Good supper then
    prepared  maps for Barrie Nichols in Toronto.  Wrote Marjorie. 

    Then had bull shit session with Paddy, our cook on this site.Nice to have someone making meals.  Joined
    by Fred,Ray and Dirk…subjects ranged from Catholicism, hiking, girls,whores and Ireland until 11.30 bed time.

    Wheland  Reed has gone to town with the line cutters   He will have a tough time getting back because both
    Len and Kellly are alcoholics.

    Monday, June 18, 1962:

    On the job at 9 am.   Covered 14,200  line  feet.  One line went right through campsite so we had lunch with the lads
    for a change.  Better than sitting on wet moss and getting hemmoroids. Hugh Naylor and I discovered two birds
    nests on our lines, both with babies but so well disguised that they were invisible in plain sight.

    We took readings right over the known mineralized vein but got no indications of an anomaly.  This caused us great concern.
    We must keep that fact secret at all costs.  Hard to explain.  Wait until Toronto office hears that.  Must not tell Aho as he
    seems to want good news to help promote the mine he likes (which ever that is).

    In the evening the truck came back from trip to Peso and town. Len was in an alcoholic stupor all night wandering from
    tent to tent telling tales of Finland in broken English.

    Tuesday, June 19, 1962

    Bloody hot day covering 12,800 line feet…..lots …so hot out that tried  to work without the mosquito net
    over my head. Impossible to do that..too many bugs.   Pulling the base line … winding on reel is nasty work.
    Finished at 5 pm…so exhausted we left the reel and wire on top of hill. 

    Startled to fins a forest of skeletons…huge
    forest of Yukon Spruce that had  been burned  years  ago.  Trees all silver grey trunks with old burn marks
    scoured out.  Beautiful  in a grim way.   Cut off a couple  to take back to camp and  maybe ship home to Toronto.
    The piece  we cut was  over 100 years old yet looked liked 20 years old when we read the growth rings.


    This is Bill Scott, my Toronto partner, hugging one of the burned over logs that has been scoured
    by many Yukon winters.   Maybe I will get it home  (which I did…it sits in my workshop)



    Short discussion with Wheland about oxidation.  Then we talked about the dangers of Yukon mines  cut into soft
    rock…oxidation and weathering in Yukon mines…then went into mine  workings to look at the soft, clay  like  pyrite, silver,
    lead, antimony. soft form of rock Makes mines very unstable…danger of collapse.

    Awoke st 3 a.m. to find  the rabbit Fluffy asleep on my forehead.

    Wednesday  June 20, 1962

    Got reasonable start today and managed 8,000 line feet of readings.  The switch  box gave us a lot of trouble…cut out three times.
    Hugh and  I are anticipating big trouble…hard to trace where wires  are shorting.  In the evening we took our gold pans to a spot
    on the valley floor where a placer mine once existed…panned for gold.  Found tiny pieces on first effort.  Amazing.   No value of course as
    so small.  Then Dirk and  Ron gave it a try…eureka!  Gold.

    Apparently Peso Silver people ordered  a case of toilet paper Air Express last winter…cost $54.00.

    Thursday,  June 21, 1962

    Poor start today because no help available …still did 6,200 feet when 1 man joined me…The symmetry switch has  broken delaying work in afternoon.
    I did some repairs to the console and then lay down on my cot with a  copy of Klondile by Pierre Berton.

    Wheland Reed showed  up at 7 with mail…got two letters from Marjorie, one  from mom, and one from Aunt Mabel…and
    a  box of cookies from Marjorie…home made. 

    Spent evening talking with Fred and  Dirk. Fred had been a pilot until his plane crashed in the bush.

    Friday,  June.22, 1962

    Rain…Rain…wonderful rain!   Got up, had  leisurely breakfast and went back  to bed.  Wrote letters and wrote a poem (what drivel I write)
    Spent whole day eating and sharing Marjorie’s  cookies.   Read more of Klondile where the fall of  1897 was tragic…3,000  horses  were 
    lost scaling the Chilkoot Pass…killed, tortured, Maimed,  poisoned.




    Saturday June 23, 2962

     fog and rain delayed us but still managed to do 13,400 feet of line.  Dr. Green of the Geological  Survey of Canada(DSC) dropped
    in for supper putting pressure on our cook Paddy.   After supper Wrote Gord Sanford  a  letter.   Beautiful sunset.

    Discovered that I am the lowest paid person in camp.  Yet feel I am the person who does  most of the goddamned  work.  My crew
    was the only crew out working yesterday    Bill  gets  $450 a month whereas I get $350 a month…not really fair.  Feel badly
    …love  the adventures of the job.  Wage works out to about $10 a day or $1 an hour.  Then again I do get room and board …wire assembled cot
    that has collapsed and good food occasionally.   Dr. Aho does buy us  drinks when given a chance.  “calls them double OP’s”
    which means  Overproof rum (80 proof…nearly absolute alcohol) . Story of the Yukon there…overproof alcohol connects to rampant
    alcoholism.  Why send OP  rum to Yukon?  To save
    shipping costs and expect the rum to be diluted 50%…never ever diluted though.  One drink of OP rum and we are drunk.  Rather funny
    when it happens once.  But if it happens regularly…not so funny

    (Dr. Aho was a charismatic figure who would eventually write a 300 page history of the Yukon.
    He  is also a skilled geologist.  Impressive.)

    Sunday, June 24, 1962

    Got good  early start and covered 18,600 get of line…3.7 miles.  Roughest day yet but I feel good about the mileage.  Who would
    be impressed?  No one. Then we extended the base line to the east.  

    When I got back to camp my mouth was so dry I could not speak with ease. Had a good shower and  then we had  the usual
    bull shit session with Dirk, Fred, Ron,  Bill and Ray.  Lots of off colour and funny jokes.  Checked  resistors before going to bed.

    Monday June 25, 1962

    Morning writing letters and checking equipment while Bill Scott set the grounding rods  for new base line.  Then managed to
    do 8,900 line feet of readings…1.78 miles.  We really  worked like devils … before the rain  came…heavy black clouds.

    Returned to camp to discover that Paddy the cook had cut his hand badly…thumb deep cut…needed a doctor.  My first aid
    kit was the only first aid in camp.  Never laugh at a Boy Scout.  Bill and Ron served  supper while Hugh and  I did the dishes.
    Then I washed  9 pairs of socks, 3 boxer shorts and 1 shirt.  Mail arrived from Marjorie, mom and Russ  Vanstone. 

    So far my earnings total $321.46 with $24.95 taken off for income tax.  Russ says he is planning to go one for his  MA at
    U.of T…maybe.

    My bed  collapsed  in the night…cannot be fixed  as  canvas ripped  along the wire rods.  Will be sleeping on the floor.

    Tuesday June 26, 1962

    Hell of an evening…slept fitfully with nightmares after my bed collapsed.   Woke early and had terrible breakfast
    of pork chops of all things…preferred bread and jam.  Then Ray Harris drove me up to the top of the hill (Yukon people
    seem to call mountains  hills unless they have a snow cone on them) Managed  to complete 19,000 line feet….3.8 miles.
    Long but spectacular vistas … made return to camp seem dull.  Paddy returned bandaged…brought mail.  

    I was so tired  that I gave up efforts to repair my bed.  Fred and  I had a glass of sherry to soothe our nerves…Fred failed
    his first year at UBC…word came in letter today.  Then Hughie joined  us as he just got  a  Dear John letter from his
    girlfriend…he was very broken up to say the least.

    Wednesday June 27, 1962

    Tired…no sleep on cot…got up stiff in joints.   Managed to cover 14,400 feet of line…2.88 miles…

    Bill Scott and I spent evening talking religion of all things.  What do  I know about religion really?  I  am
    Presbyterisn whatever that really means while Bill is a very active Catholic.  No arguments.  We will get
    along fine.  We traded Bibles … i brought my copy of New Testament but had not opened it…did not
    tell Billl that.

    Had  coffee later with Fred who told funny stories about the Bengal Bicycle club snd the Dirty Buggers Club.
    Lots of laughter.

    Thursday,  June 28, 1962  

    Fred, Len and I spent the day reclaiming Base Lines  1 and  2…shielded single strand copper wire.  Then moved
    the motor generator over to the new site.  Seems to be difficult to read  console  here for some reason

    Got some lumber and built a desk  and  a chair. 

    Wheland Read arrived with Roger Verity from Vancouver.   Verity is a big promotor for Peso Silver.  Seems nice.

    I received a nice letter from the love of my life.

    Names of men in our Peso Silver camp
    Fred Carter
    Hugh Naylor
    Dirk Tempelman Kuit
    Pat McGan
    Wheland Read
    Len Aaltonen
         Kelly
    Ray Harris
    Neil Hager
    Dinky (First Nations)
    Lea
    Ron
    Roger Verity
    Budd Rich

    Friday June 29,1962

    Looks like rain.  Len and  I attempted to reach the eastern edge of grid where we had  a hell of  a time
    with grounding rods  due to the permafrost.   Eventually got satisfactory resistance of  290 ohms.  Len
    decided  to walk back to camp along the ridge.   Ten miles  walking through the bush.  Hard.  Startled
    a mother partridge and her chicks…got some pictures.

    Saturday June 30, 1962

    Drove to job site with the line cutters in our Power Wagon.  Then Len and I put in the western grounding
    rods…500 ohms … line resistance of 440 ohms (meaning what?) 

    A strange guy from Rio Plata popped out of the bush wanting to know what we were doing for Peso Silver…wanted
    information but got none from us.  Mystery .  His name seemed to be Ed Chase but I could be wrong.
    Len and I managed to cover 8,600 line feet….1.72 miles.

    It was very cold today and some of the fellows expected snow. Imagine that ..snow at end of June.
    Len commented “Imagine that, I  will have put on my ‘Jesusly’ underwear when I just took them off last week.”
    Jesusly is a new word.

    Wheland Read and Roger Verity have planned a 3 day  holiday  for Bill Scott and me … in Dawson City
    because we have overtaken the linocutting crew.  Nothing really for us to do.  We plan to take
    our sleeping bags, mosquito nets and food.  Not sure we  can afford this trip but it is a chance
    to see the Klondike at its  core.

    Went to bed and fell asleep for an hour.  Woke up and read more of Klondike by Pierre Berton.

    High wind shook our tent all night.

    Sunday, july 1, 1962

    This camp was made flat by the bulldozer then some professional carpenters set up the tents.  Neat.

    Kelly, the new cook, rang the gong at 6.30 so  we got an early start on the Rex Base Line.   Managed  19,280 line feet..
    3.85 line miles.   Switch box  cut out twice.   Today was cool with bright sunshine…conducive to working .

    Back at camp Ron and  I were discussing books when suddenly he looked down towards the cook shack…”God…there’s
    a bear!”  A large black bear was about 5 feet from the cook shack.  I got two pictures of the fellow.

    Later we  had a discussion with Roger Verity and Wheland  Reed about three possible extensions.  Then we had coffee
    and tried to guess  Dinky’s age.  He says he is 51 but looks about 21. Then he told  us about bears and
    wolverines on his trap line.  Apparently a grizzly bear walked right into the Calumet bunkhouse.
    “Wolverines are  vicious and smart…got into my cabin by squeezing down the stove pipe….in summer”


    Monday July 2, 1962

    This was one of those bad days as  the switch box failed 8 times and  we lost the whole morning’s work.  Put in extra grounding rods
    at the western end.  Still failed.  I sent word  to Bill Scott for help.  He watched the switch while Len and  I did lines.   Then I
    built a cover for the switch  box…discovered that sun’s heat may  have been problem.   Bad day but did manage to
    get 9,770 feet of line done…1.95 miles.


    BEARD  IS PROGRESSING FINE…..vanity you might say.

    Tuesday July 3, 1962

    DAWSON CITY, HERE WE COME!

    END PART 5  YUKON STORY DIARY

  • EPISODE 215 YUKON STORY PART 4: GHOST TOWNS VISITED ON KENO HILL IN 1962 BY BILL DUNN AND ALAN SKEOCH

    EPISODE 215     YUKON STORY: PART 4  GHOST TOWNS VISTED ON KENO HILL IN 1962 BY BILL DUNN AND ALAN SKEOCH


    alan skeoch
    Jan. 2, 2021

    EPISODE 215    GHOST TOWNS PART 4  …KENO HILL AND WERNECKE CAMP

    alan skeoch
    Jan. 2, 2021



    SUNDAY, JUNE 10, 1962


    “THIS is our big day.  Bill Dunn and I are going to climb Keno Hill…really a mountain…in search of a ghost town we
    heard about.   We have no idea what it will look like or where it is.  We do know there is an old road up the mountain
    from Keno City which  is itself almost a ghost town.  Bill Scott with drive us to the base of the mountain in our bashed
    and beaten 1953 Power Wagon then he will backtrack and go to Mass at the Catholic  Church in  Elsa.  Given a choice
    between discovering  and exploring a ghost town and  going to mass, We chose the ghost town while Bill Scott chose
    Mass.  What choice would you make?

    We climbed upwards  for two hours following the long abandoned  mining road which is now blocked with a small
    glacier partway up.  The melt water flows down the old track for a distance… impossible even for our power 
    wagon to get through.”

    ROAD TO KENO HILL CLOSED…BARRIER OF RUBBLE

    “About 2/3 the way to the top we found an old mine entrance and a jumble of abandoned ore cars with their wheels
    gone.  Should we crawl  over the cars  and explore inside this mine?  We thought about it but decided  finding the
    ghost town came first since we only had a few hours to spend before Bill would return with the Power Wagon.
    Strange however that the mine would be part way down  the mountain yet the mine buildings would  be up top.
    (We did not know at the time that there were two mines here…Keno Hill and Wernecke Camp.  Both very historic
    in the mining history of the Yukon.  More important than all of Dawson City.   To us, what we saw was just
    a gaping hole held open by timbers that seemed about to collapse.)”

    chris-nicole.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/Chris-and-Nicole-CNA-Photos-visit-keno-city-yukon-14-300×200.jpg 300w, chris-nicole.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/Chris-and-Nicole-CNA-Photos-visit-keno-city-yukon-14-768×513.jpg 768w, chris-nicole.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/Chris-and-Nicole-CNA-Photos-visit-keno-city-yukon-14.jpg 1200w” sizes=”(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px”>






    “So we continued to climb.  Very steep road. Eventually we got above the tree line and there spread before us was what remained of  
    Keno Hill or Wernecke.  The two names were confusing.  But the vista was incredible.  We could see for miles  and  miles…maybe
    50 to 100 mlles distant was the looming tower of snow clad  Mount Haldane…due west of Keno Hill.   Really we  did not see
    this vista at first because our eyes were distracted by the more  or less parallel set of  railway tracks that curved  out from
    another  mine opening and ended abruptly at a  cliff face that went straight down for several hundred feet.  At the terminal
    end was a heavy wood platform built right to the edge of the  cliff.  This was where the waste  rock was dumped and fell
    far below along with other things  we could see among the fractured waste.”

    “Our trip had all the trappings of home….frying pan  We borrowed a small orange crate 
    table as we dined luxuriously on a platform built over the edge  of a cliff face.  When the mine operated
    the waste  rock and other things were dumped here and far below was a garbage  dump worth attention
    we could not give.”



    I think this is Mount Haldane but cannot be  sure.  The picture was taken at lake level.  Not from top of Keno Hill
    This shows what miners leave behind.

    “I was reticent to sit on the platform but Bill was  insistent we sit there and  have our lunch with our knees on the edge of
    the precipice while we gazed  across the valley to Mount Haldane.  I suffered from a feeling of vertigo
    but at the  same time  a feeling of wonder.  NO mosquitoes or black flies  up here because the wind
    drove them to ground.  It was something out of this world.  We should have sat there longer but even
    our rapid lunch gave enough time for the vista to get locked into long term storage in my brain. Indelible.
    Keno Hill mine was built on a truncated Mountain valley that had convulsed long long ago…and  a great 
    swath of Keno Hill had been torn free and fallen straight down to the great valley below.

    Several lakes glowed emerald green  here and there across the valley.  We thought we saw a moose in one’
    the nearest lakes but could not be sure.  Nor  did we want to take the time to do much more.  We had
    the ghost town  to explore.  Dotted here and there across  the bare top of Keno Hill were many buildings…most
    of them windowless.  But a couple looked like picture postcards from  gold rush days of the 1890’s…log buildings
    mostly but a few had shiplap lumber.  Unpainted.  The first one we reached even had old curtains hanging on
    the windows.   inside there were dishes and  pots and old kitchen stuff here and there along with tables
    and chairs.  Abandoned but done so in haste it seemed.  We had not idea when this mine was closed.
    We guessed turn of the century…1900.  (But we were wrong.  Keno Hill and  Wernecke were abandoned  
    between 1928 and  1932).   


    My memory of this house was that he windows were  intact and there  were curtains.  Easy  to see the curtains. The rest is a shambles.
    Perhaps the picture is misplaced.


    The  opening to the Wernicke mine adit is choked with ice.  Closed.

    That home was hard  to forget.  We felt like intruders … maybe the owner would arrive any moment.  Outside, however,
    was silence only disrupted by gusts of cold wind. 



    I think these  are buildings that were constructed in 1921 by Livingston Wernicke as housing for his miners.


    “Not far away from the house was a large log building.  Looked like a big log barn which is exactly what it turned  out
    to be.  Inside were horse stalls with horse collars and harness hanging on spikes;  No horses…no sign of life at all.
    (It Turns out there were once 98 horses  up here.  Some pulled the mine cars from the stopes to the mill while others
    pulled the waste rock  to the dump at the cliff face where we had lunch.  Most of the horses were harnessed
    to heavy wagons  where the sacks  of  galena ore were placed  in route down the mountain road to 
    Keno City and then forward all the way to Mayo Landing where stern wheeling steamships paddled
    the ore to Whitehorse where the White Pass Railway took over.   The  silver from Keno Hill dominated
    the world silver supply for many years. )”


    “We expected to find piles of old machinery in abandoned  workshops but did not do so.  When the
    mine closed the crushing  machines and related  tooling was tool valuable tote discarded it seemed.
    Small tools like  pick heads and D handled shovels were laying about here and there which indicated
    the corpse of Keno Hill had been picked clean by previous explorers like Bill and me.

    We had only a hour or two to explore.   Never got to see every building nor did we find
    an adit leading into the mine.  Adits are horizontal…shafts are vertical.   We had no chance
    of getting deep in the bowels of  Keno Hill.

    I took a  few pictures and  we headed  down the mountain to Keno City where Bill Scott was waiting.
    How were we able to get the time to do this?  I don’t know.  Maybe we had finished one job and  were
    getting ready to start another.  Somehow we had a free Sunday.”

    ONE of the horse stables on top of Keno Hill.  Once there were 98 horses up here.  Then Livingston Wernecke decided it was
    cheaper to use Holt Tractors to haul galena to Mayo Landing.  What happened to the horses?   I have no idea but even to this
    day there are wild  horses in the Yukon…tough wild  horses that manage  to survive.  At least they were
    still there in 1962.  I do not know about today.

    chris-nicole.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/Chris-and-Nicole-CNA-Photos-visit-keno-city-yukon-4-300×200.jpg 300w, chris-nicole.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/Chris-and-Nicole-CNA-Photos-visit-keno-city-yukon-4-768×513.jpg 768w, chris-nicole.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/Chris-and-Nicole-CNA-Photos-visit-keno-city-yukon-4.jpg 1200w” sizes=”(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px”>
    Many of the Keno Hill miners homes must have looked like this.   Use your imagination  When it was lived in
    it may have been OK.  Small window openings were a blessing in a Yukon winter.

    THE FACTS THAT BILL DUNN AND I DID NOT KNOW

    Bill and I knew  nothing about either Keno Hill or Wernecke Camp.   All we knew  was that people once lived
    on the top of Keno Hill and no one lived there in 1962 but their homes were still there…empty…collapsing.
    A regular ghost town.  We were not sure we  had any right to climb Keno Hill (really a mountain).  But the
    lure of the mysterious Yukon was irresistible.

    Now,  in 2021, I know  a lot more about what we saw that Sunday afternoon back in 1962.
    Sorting  out the owners of the mines near Keno Hill, their years of operation, their stories
    is  a task too big for this episode so  I have tried to pare it down  to something readers can
    understand.   What should  be written is  a great novel the likes of  Grapes of Wrath by
    Steinbeck.


    Livingston Wernecke photo

    Livingson Wernecke (1883-1941)





    In 1917 the huge Treadwell Mine on the coast of the Alaskan panhandle suddenly fill with water.  350 Miners fled
    up  the  shaft as fast as they could  The mine horses could not flee. The death of those horses broke the
    heart of the mine  population.   Millions of gallons of sea water  soon filled every
    corner of the mine.   Livingstone Wernecke  was a mine geologist here in 1917.  He moved to Keno Hill in 1921.


    The easiest way to understand what happened on Keno Hill is to focus on one man,  Livingston
    Wernecke.   He was a big time miner.   A geologist who spent his early years working the
    Alaska Treadwell mine.  Incredibly dramatic life.  But I will hold the story of Treadwell back.
    It will take another whole episode.  Captivating is an understatement.

    In  June, 1921, Wernecke came to Keno to check out the possibilities.  Much of Keno Hill had
    already been staked, and some silver ore had been extracted.  Rich ore…lots of  silver, lead
    and zinc.  The market was good.  World War One was over and the 1920’s were  booming.

    So Livingston Wernecke thought Keno Hill had  great possibilities.  He bought a sawmill
    and set it up at Mayo Lake to get planks and timbers for the underground workings
    and the town site he needed for his miners.  From the Treadwell mine in Alaska he sent
    all that was needed to start mining…steel  rails, drills, mine  cars, chain falls…a165 diesel 
    engine, a 150 kilowat generator…picks, shovels, mine  paraphernalia.   

    Access to Keno Hill in 1921 was not easy.  The best transport was by flat bottomed 
    sternwheeler steamships which had come up the Yukon River and then up the Stewart River to
    Mayo Landing.  That was  only part way.  The rest of the way to Keno was overland
    on a bush road that was best in the winter..a muddy terror in the spring…a fly infested
    hell in the summer.  Especially hard on the horses, all 98 of them.  But the job was 
    underway and in May 1924 planning was made to reconstruct a flotation mill weighing
    100 tons.  By January 6, 1925 the mill was  in place.  (*There was no sign of
    the mill in 1962. It had been removed to Elsa, a few miles west of Keno)

    Meanwhile his miners, he called them his ‘boys’ and tried to keep  them morally pure.
    ..meanwhile Wernecke’s boys were digging, blasting….deep…600 feet hollowed out
    and the galena was rich…high concentrations of silver at 60 cents a pound.
    (*The first mine  entrance that Bill and  I found was a drainage  adit saving Wernecke
    the $200 a day costs of pumping water from the mine stopes and passageways,)

    The estimated cost for the whole  project was $200,000 and the estimated profit
    was  $1,273 a day.   Every ton of  galena produced 64ounces of silver that was
    then worth 60 cents a pound.   Then there was the side profit selling lead
    at 6 cents a pound.   Wernecke processed over 244, thousand tons of ore
    containing nearly 13 million ounces silver along with lead and zinc.

    Those were good times for everyone.  The miners, some of  whom got
    houses for their wives  and children.  Others  lived in fancy bunkhouses built
    with lumber from Mayo Lake saw mill and sheets of corrugated steel
    from United Staes steel  companies.

    Then suddenly the price  of silver dropped.  By November 16, 1932, Keno Hill
    was no longer profitable.  Wernecke was killed in 1941…killed  in an attempted
    airplane rescue of another downed pilot and crew.  His plane circled through fog
    and  hit an unseen immense tree on the Alaskan panhandle.  Killed all
    while those about to be rescued watched  helplessly

    So in 1932,  Keno Hill and  Wernecke Camp became  ghost towns.
    Much of the machinery and even some of the buildings were
    packed up and moved to Elsa,

    What we  saw in 1962 was a townsite and mine site that was slowly
    rotting into powder.  People visiting Wernecke today will only see
    the railway tracks and abandoned mine cars maybe.  Apparently the one
    house  that remains intact snd  livable is the house  that Livingston
    Wernecke built for his own family.  Some enterprising residents
    of Keno City would  like it preserved as an historic cite.  Is that
    likely? I am  not too sure.  Getting to the top of Keno Hill is not easy.

    This is the short form history of Keno.  The full story will come later.
    Suffice it to say that Livingston Wernecke tried to keep his boys
    away from the hookers that took over Keno City in the 1920’s, when the mines
    were flourishing.  He failed to do that.  Wernecke will be another secondary story. 


    When I read about that failure I remembered a miner I worked underground
    with at Elliott Lake.  He asked me if I knew how to tell that a mine
    was going to be successful.  I thought it must be the price of the raw
    minerals.  “No, you can tell when the hookers start to arrive.”  Well,
    they sure began to arrive in  Keno City.  That will be another secondary story.

    alan skeoch

    Jan. 2, 2021

  • EPISODE 211 PICTURE OF JAMES SKEOCH SHORTLY BEFORE HE WAS KILLED IN 1918

    Note to General Readers:  Sorry to insert this episode as it is a Skeoch vignette of limited
    interest to those of you looking for excitement !  In these episodes I try to balance interesting
    stories with a dab or two of family history.  Call this a dab of family history .  The  pandemic 
    gives all of us time to dab bits of family history.  I know hat from he email letters  I get back
    from some readers.  


    EPISODE  211    JAMES SKEOCH SHORTLY BEFORE HE WAS KILLED IN 1918

    alan skeoch
    Dec. 2020



    JAMES SKEOCH…LAST PHOTOGRAPH BEFORE HE WAS KILLED IN 1918

    Look up top, far right.  That is the last image anyone ever saw  of James Skeoch… riding in a 1918 troop 
    carrier to or from a rest break at a YMCA cafe in France.  I think this picture was sent to me by Tina Skeoch
    from the Skeoch farm at Corunna   Tina corresponded often with James.

    James was  the oldest child of James Skeoch sr.  When World War 1 broke out he volunteered o
    join the Canadian army and was eventually shipped with other Fergus volunteers to England and then to the trenches  of  France.

    His enthusiasm did not last long..  Somehow at least one  of  his letters escaped the eyes of the censors
    and  was sent to my father, Arnold (Red) Skeoch.  In that letter James states clearly that his brothers
    should not join he army.   The letter gave me the feeling that James did not expect to survive the war.
    Arnold was  unlikely to join the army anyway as  he was  only 12 or 13 when the war began and 16 or 17
    when the war ended.   Dad’s brother John,  however, was prime military age and  seems to have
    taken his brother James advice.

    alan skeoch
    Dec. 2020

    THE SKEOCH LETTERS OF THE `830’s and 1840’S

    P.S.  Two decades ago I spent one winter laboriously transferring the hand written  Skeoch letters of
    the  1830’s and  1840’s into typewritten form  Soon to be transferred to digital  form.  These  letters
    are  interesting  but a little difficult to put into context.  At some point in the mid 1840’s a  decision was
    made  to leave Scotland.  Not all the family migrated. Some were left behind, particularly the elderly. 
    Most came to Canada.   Some to the United States.
    Why?   Were they pushed out of Scotland by misery?  Or did they see a chance of great wealth in pioneer farming
    in Canada?   Push  or pull.?  I found both.

    One other branch moved
    to  St. Croix, Virgin Islands where they owned and ran a plantation.  A book was written about
    that branch titled  Robert Skeoch, Cruzan Planter.   We became  aware of this branch of the family
    when my wife Marjorie suggested we look up Skeoch’s in a Scottish phone book while on tour in the 1960’s
    The  visit was wonderful… elderly Skeoch farm family closely associated with the Virgin Island
    branch.  Back in Canada when  we told  Aunt Elizabeth about that she packed  a bag  and
    flew to the Virgin Islands to meet any she could find. 

    Another  flourishing branch high tailed it to Australia.  We write back and forth
    often.  The connection was made in the strangest way.  I discovered that I was
    not the only Alan Skeoch…there were three of us unknown to each other.  The third
    was a dentist in California who recently passed away before I could bother him.

    Back in Scotland  the family seems to have thrived as well.  Even to the point of trying
    to establish a car industry by manufacturing The Little Skeoch in 1921.  Unfortunately the
    factory caught fire and burned to the ground.  Today, however, some enterprising men
    in Dalbeattie, Scotland, have successfully rebuilt a  model of the Little Skeoch.  Look it
    up on the internet…you will even see the little car moving.

    STOP!  STOP, ALAN!  PLEASE STOP!

    In a subsequent Episode I willi include copies of the Skeoch letters even though it is doubtful
    they will interest general readers.  Wait!   Give me time.  I can  find a  hook that might make
    the letters of broader interest.

    ENJOY  the picture of James  Skeoch above.  You  do not have to be  a relative to find
    that photo interesting.  Worth researching even.

    P>A>   I HEARD  YOU SAY THAT…HEARD YOU SAY “I AM SICK AND TIRED
    OF ALAN’S EPISODES”  (I do not blame you.)



  • Fwd: EPISODE 210 “NEW ZEALAND AIR AMBULANCE NEEDED” (ANDREW SKEOCH, HEAD ON COLLISION)



    Begin forwarded message:


    From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>
    Subject: EPISODE 210 “NEW ZEALAND AIR AMBULANCE NEEDED” (ANDREW SKEOCH, HEAD ON COLLISION)
    Date: December 27, 2020 at 7:41:44 PM EST


    EPISODE 210    ” NEW  ZEALAND AIR AMBULANCE NEEDED”  

    alan skeoch
    Dec 2020

    Dateline:  Dec. 1992
    Place:  90 mile beach, Cape Rainga, North Island, New Zealand


    “Christ Almighty…there going to hit us head on!”
    “KABOOM…”
    “JESUS…JESUS…ANYONE DEAD?”



    WE loved that car…but it was scrap in the twinkling of an eye.




    “Christ Almighty…there going to hit us head on!”
    “KABOOM…”
    “JESUS…JESUS…ANYONE DEAD?”

    Excuse the profanity if you can.  People in crisis often appeal to Jesus whether they
    are believers or not.  Two cars smashing together on a New Zealand near empty 
     highway should have  been  deadly.  Head on!  Head light to headlight…engine to
    engine.  Glass shattered by heads hitting.  Metal folding like cardboard.  Blood flowing
    like water.  Voices screaming for the Almighty.  Jesus!  Jesus! Both cars held young people
    who were fit.  Bashed, broken, bleeding … all alive but needing medical treatment
    immediately.  This was not a good place for a head  on collision.  Not that
    there is ever a good place for that.   Andrew Skeoch and  Keith Merker along
    with two girlfriends had  been windsurfing on 90 mile beach on the west coast
    of New Zealand’s North Island.  Carefree.  Two Canadian  boys on their chosen
    world  tour.  Two New Zealand  girls enjoying the exhilaration of youth.  No one
    dead but injuries were grievous.  Four Kiwis in the other car…girl with broken arm.

    “Hello, Air Ambulance!  Get a chopper up to tip of 90 mile beach right away.
    Car accident.  Head  on for Christ’s sake.”
    “How many hurt?”
    “They are all hurt but three girls need to get to Auckland fast.”
    “And the boys?”
    “Send an ambulance…quick. Two Canadian lads.”
    “It will take hours to get there and get back to hospital.”
    “We are stabilizing the  boys.”
    “Who is speaking?”
    “Police Officer Clark”
    “Police  Officer?’”

    “Archie Moore…”
    “Are you sure you’re OK?”  Any others hurt?”
    “Everyone was hurt.  Joanne has a broken jaw.  






    “How did it happen?”
    “Looks like one  car was rounding a hairpin on wrong side of the road.”
    “Canadians?”
    “No, Kiwis…”
    “Sounds like it could have been fatal.”
    “Bloody true…lucky the cars were big…some  protection.   And the kids are fit.”
    “Any danger of delayed shock?”
    “Don’t think so…that danger was  over long ago.  They were not 
    found  for a couple of hours.  All  are conscious.”
    ‘We’ll send an investigator…mind if a reporter tags along?
    “No…get a move on, goddamnit.”




    Marjorie and I did not get a phone call from Andrew  until a couple of  days had
    passed.  He  wanted us to know.  Nothing hidden.  Feared over reaction.

     But both he and Keith were hurt
    and in the Aukland  hospital.  To phone right away, he  felt, would cause panic back home.
    In the meantime the boys had to make a big decision.  They could be flown back to Canada.
    Insurance covered that if necessary.  Two days passed by  and  they were mending.  Andy had
    his nose nearly severed and  Keith had the steering column rammed into his lower body.  Injuries that
    seems bad when their heads went through the windshield.  But two days later seemed OK.

    CHRISTMAS DAY 1992

    “Hi Mom, how are things back  home.  All ready for Christmas i bet.”
    “Oh, Andrew, how nice to hear from you.  How is the world adventure going?””
    “Bit of a problem.  We got in a car accident…”
    “Nooooo!”
    “But we are fine.  Bruised…mending.”
    “Any others hurt?”
    “Everyone hurt…some worse than others.  Joanne has a broken jaw.  Claire
    has a lot of soft tissue injuries.  Both girls and one from the other car flown to
    Auckland by air ambulance.  The car is a write off.”

    BEFORE THE HEAD ON COLLISION


    ON Oct. 7, 1992, both of our sons left home.  To say it was a surprise is an understatement.
    Kevin had  taken a job with the American School teaching English in Bratislava, Slovakia.
    The Soviet Union had just collapsed and Eastern Europe was in chaos.  Most citizens  of
    Slovakia were looking westward to places like Canada and the United States for help. Most.
    Not all.  There still remained many supporters of the communist ideal.  We felt Kevin was
    stepping into a morass.  As he was.

    Andrew, on the other hand, and his friend  Keith Merker had decided to head westward. 
    “Where are you going, Andrew?” 
    ‘ Across Canada, down to Los Angeles  and then
    across the Pacific…island hopping to New Zealand.”
    ‘Money?”
    “We have some.  Get jobs  along the way.”
    “Sounds a little chancy.”
    “if I get in a tight corner, I will call.”
    “No car?”
    “We will buy wrecks…cars  heading for the scrap heap.”

    And they did.  One car they bought in the U.S. had no side
    windows so when they dropped  in on Victor Poppa’s place in California he
    made them Wooden windows.   On a side venture to Arizona they 
    were advised  to get out of the state by a friendly police officer. “Stick around
    here with that car and meet a different cop…you will wish you never heard
    of Arizona.”
    John Steinbeck, were he still alive, would have added a  chapter
    in either East of Eden  or the Grapes  of Wrath.

    Island hopping across the Pacific…Figi and so many others…turning
    to road kill for supper on one occasion.  Never cooked the thing though
    the thought seriously about it.  Island hopping.

    This was the way they ended up at 90 mile beach on the North Island
    of New Zealand.  Let me tell the story from Andrew’s own words.



    “We bought the four door Ford for $2,000 which was all the
    money we had.   No worries for we felt we could sell it for
    that money or more when we were done.  It was a great car for
    a surfing holiday.  We met Joanne and Claire and  pooled  our 
    resources.   We had the car. They had  the food  money. Nice 
    girls who had  won a lottery. Surfed all  day in shark water..
    We drove for miles up the beach…as far north as we could go
    to Cape Rainga.  Car got stuck trying to clear a sand dune
     so we had take a run at the dune to bust out onto the road.

    Then one hour later on a hairpin curve a New Zealander was cutting
    the curve  and hit us dead  on.  I flew through the wndow cutting my nostril
    in half.  Keith crumpled the steering wheel  with his body and  sliced his kneecap.
    Joanne  broke her jaw on the head rest.   Claire had soft tissue injuries to
    most of her body.   In the other car a girl in back seat broke her arm.  Boys
    in front were protected by the seat belts.  I know..I know..we  should have buckled.

    We collided at 6 p.m. but did not get help until two hours later.  No traffic up
    Road ends at the ocean…goes nowhere. Eventually some cars came. Wrapped
    girls in bedrolls…chills, maybe shock.   Policeman named Archie Clark came and called for an air
    ambulance for the girls and ground ambulance for Keith and me.  We did not
    reach hospital until midnight.  Next day there was an article about the crash
    in the Aukland Herald.

    The investigation concluded we were not at fault (which is easy to see in photos).
    We then had to decide whether to head back  to Canada or wait out the injuries
    and continue.   I waited a few days before calling you.  Afraid to spoil your Christmas.
    Then Archie Clark offered to take  us to his farm over Christmas.  He found us
    jobs and fed us.  Boar hunting with his sons.  After that we headed for the south island and then over to
    Australia.  You sent us some money and we made a little washing storefront 
    windows wherever we  went.  All we needed was a couple of  squeegees and
    a pail.   

    The girls?  We never  saw them again although I keep in touch with
    Joanne on Facebook.   Both girls are married with children as are  Keith 
    and me.  I wonder  if  there are many police  officers like  Archie Clark.”




    FACEBOOK NOTE FROM JOANNE

    Hi Andy, 
    You havent changed a bit!!!I found my box of travelling stuff in the loft yesterday and thought i would see if i could find anyone! Hard to beleive it was over 18 years ago. It was only last year that i had to have jaw surgery to correct my bite since the crash. Hows your nose?
    Do you still see Keith. I see Claire, she lives around the corner from me and our children go to the same school. She is still travelling all over the world as an air hostess for BA. She is married to Andy has Ben whos 10 and Jessica who is 7. 
    How is life with you? I see from your photo you are still surfing!!!
    Love to hear from you
    Love Jo






    WHEN MARJORIE AND I TOOK ANDREW  TO NEW ZEALAND…hardly any danger of a speeding collision











    Kiwi birds are hard to find.  This one was attracted to the beer bottle between my legs I think.


    Campgrounds in New Zealand are wonderful…full kitchens.


    That was sometime around  1993.  The years when the Soviet Union was collapsing.  We were able to experience
    the collapse first hand when our other son, Kevin, called to ask  us over to Slovakia for a week…which also
    turned out to be a grand adventure.

    alan skeoch
    Dec. 1990


  • EPISODE 209 TRAPPED … WITH THE INCOMING TIDE IN NEW ZEALAND

    Note:  Episode 208 will  come a little later.  It is complicated and
    needs  a little more research.  while  combing through my pictures
    I came across these two photos…reminded me of an adventure i
    had almost forgotten.

    EPISODE  209    TRAPPED…WITH THE INCOMING TIDE

    alan skeoch
    Dec.  2020


    Some time ago
    Andrew, Marjorie and I decided  to explore some hidden  beaches on the
    east side of New  Zealand’s North Island… Taranga location.  Not very 
    far from the the Maori grave of  my cousin Roy Skeoch whose Maori wife, Anna
    and family we came to see.  

    Black volcanic rocks with glass like needles rose  sharply above the beautiful beaches.

    We did not pay much attention to the fact that those beaches were
    getting  smaller and smaller and the surf was at the same time
    becoming angry.

    Too late.  Our escape route was  closed…no footpath remained… just churning
    surf.  Our only escape was  over the volcanic base of Mount Taranga.

    We thought it was funny at first.  Then we became aware that there
    was no place to hide.  Marjorie got a bit ripped.  In the end Andrew
    carried Marjorie over the rocks.  That gave me a chance to get
    two fast pictures.   Afterwards we decided to name our kitten Taranga
    in memory of this bit of surf and rock and  churning water.





    New Zealand is very safe for tourists.  Great long beaches on both sides of
    the islands.  Accessible.  The only danger, apparently, is from a tiny toxic
    spider that lives under the rocks.

    Well, not the only danger.

    Shortly after we returned to North America with Andrew he decided to go back
    to New Zealand with his friend Keith Merker.   Both of them kids who would turn
    into young men while exploring the world  around them.  The danger?  The greatest
    danger they faed in New Zealand came from fellow human beings.   

    And at the same time the greatest rescue they experienced  also  came from
    a human being…a New Zealand police officer.

    I will try to put that story together.  I have the pictures.   

    The pictures of this wild surf reminded me of those days and the adventures
    we shared.   Our other son, Kevin, could  not go with us as he was a student
    at the University of Toronto at the time.  He would have his own adventures  on
    the other side of the world that might interest you.  Again…I have the pictures.

    alan skeoch
    Dec. 2020