Year: 2021

EPISODE 217 YUKON DIARY 6 JULY 3, 1962 TO DAWSON CITY (ON THE LEDGE)
EPISODE 217 YUKON DIARY 6 JULY 3 1962 DAWSON CITY

alan skeoch

Jan. 3, 2021

OVERVIEW

…DAWSON CITY.. Who pays the bill?

…SLEEP ON A LEDGE…IN POURING RAIN

…FLOOR SHOW…really on the floor

…FOXY…a lot of money had been spent by the Canadian government

…HARDWARE STORE…with no hardware

…MYSTERY MAN ACHINSON

…ROBERT SERVICE…Mc’Cluskey’s Nell

JULY 3, 1962

NOTE: How often has someone said to you, “Take a 3 day holiday

in Dawson City. You guys are working too hard?.” Bet, not many.

We forgot to respond

correctly by asking “All expenses paid?” We were rather stupid. This was

a three day holiday at our expense. Both of us did not have much spare

cash. “These 3 days could cost us $100″…nearly 1/3 of my monthly income.

So we did the trip as cheaply as we could nervously expecting Dr. Paterson

(in Toronto) to cover the $18 bus fare. He might take the costs our of our salaries.

To be frank WE SHOULD NOT HAVE GONE TO DAWSON CITY.

But that is an afterthought made today Jan. 3,2021.

DAWSON CITY HERE WE COME

“What a day this has been…what a rare mood I’m in….”

“You guys should take a 3 day holiday in Dawson.”

So Bill Scott and I drove from Peso to Mayo Landing where my U. of T. results

had arrived. Four firsts, two seconds. Whoopee! Not sure I deserved that.

Then Bill and I had two beers

before beginning the trip to Dawson City. The bus had only two other passengers

from Whitehorse. We saw two moose on the way to Dawson City.

Dawson City is a ramshackle place with many old frame buildings slowly sinking into

the permafrost… people with

nothing much to do…slipping into slobbering oblivion with too much alcohol in

their bloodstream. Just a fast opinion…could not be true.

BOMBAY PEGGY’S HOUSE OF ILL REPUTE…

Fair ladies of my lusty youth, I fear that you are dead and gone: Where's Gertie of the Diamond Tooth, And where the Mare of Oregon? What's come of Violet de Vere, Claw-fingered Kate and Gumboot Sue? They've crossed the Great Divide, I fear; Remembered now by just a few.

ROBERT SERVICE

Bill and I wandered all over town …I got some good pictures. Rather than eat

our pork and beans we decided to go all out andhad a buffalo meat supper.

Then We climbed the hill behind the town, carrying our sleeping bags. prepared our camp on a

narrow ledge

where once long ago some other fellows had pitched a tent. Then we got a warm fire

going for it was drizzling and very cold. We will try to sleep on some spruce

boughs…but sleep seems doubtful . We walked back to the main street of

Dawson and had two beers in a salloon…really dingy place. Many First Nations

people. We needed the beer to make us less uneasy about the night on the ledge.

In the bar Two older people…male and female…were making love on the

floor…no one remarked or seemed surprised… no one took much notice. Bill and I

tried to be nonchalant but gave each other a raised eyebrow message..

(NOTE: I Seem to remember The barman rolled and tried to roll them

out the door. That could not have been true. I was reticent to mention

this performance which was both comic and tragic…but it happened)

We walked back to our sleeping bags … crawled in …and rain came

down heavy. Sleep? Not a wink. .

Dawson City was losing any charm it once had in my mind.

Expenses (chargeable?)

insect repellent $3.19

hunting knife 4.50

Bus fare 12.00

Food (3 days) 18.00

Total $27.69

DARE WE SUBMIT THIS?

Personal expenses

Necklace for Marjorie $7.50

Foxy 6.00

Rum 9.00

Food (3 day) 3.00

Beer 3.00

Cards 2.00

Total $30.50

July 6,1962

“What’s that?” “Something crackling!” I was suddenly awakened at 6 a.m. to discover

two Big dogs…right in camp with us. Silent. Staring. Were they hungry? My sleeping bag was soaking wet

from the rain. Cold pork and beans and a box of cookies sitting

in our rain soaked sleeping bags with a Labrador Retriever on one side and what looked

like a wolf on the other side while gazing down at Dawson City far below. The

dogs wandered away.

We had a full day in Dawson City. More time than we needed. On the main street we stopped at a tent

with sign ‘Bank of B.N.A.’ where a hostess was pleasant. “You really must see Foxy…at the theatre”

We needed a place to dump our soaked sleeping bags…not a play at the fancy theatre.

OCCIDENTAL HOTEL…EARLY PICTURE…NOT SO ROUGH WHEN WE STAYED THERE

OCCIDENTAL HOTEL IN 1977…NOT DOING SO WELL…

BANK OF COMMERCE WHERE ROBERT SERVICE WORKED

“Let’s register in the Occidental

Hotel for tonight…dump our bags..” Got a nice old fashioned room with two beds for $9. Wandered around

noting some of the Dawson old timers who would just have been born back in the 1890’s

gold rush days. Then back to the Occidental for a nap as we sure did not get much sleep

last night.

I bought Marjorie a necklace for $7.50. Then we had a big supper in the Occidental

dining room. The actor Bert Lahr sat at the next table. The star of the special

play Foxy for whom the brand new theatre had been built. Dawson City was

expecting a big tourist boom this summer. Lots of federal money had been spent…most

of it constructing the theatre and more to import the professional cast of actors

and dancers. I remembered flying north with some of the chorus girls who

were very excited. I wondered what they thought now…a month later.

The Balance Grand theatre.

The girls of Dawson in the Gold Rush Days…maybe.

I DID not see any of the chorus girls who were on my flight to Vancouver a month ago. They were so excited to be part of the musical Foxy

…excited to be living in Dawson City for the summer. No sign of them here below.

We bought tickets at the Palace Grand for tonight’s performance of Foxy

which turned out to be a good show. It tried to capture the essence

of Dawson City and did so.

The plot: Three old prospectors hobbled through a milling crowd…spectres from

the past that no-one cared about …gold rush days remembered. We enjoyed

the play. Not too many other tourists in town.

Then we went down to the Bonanza bar and drank in some of the atmosphere

of Dawson. Felt pleasantly good. The barmaid was a very pretty First Natons

girl. Went back to the Occidental where Bill went to bed and I wrote Marjorie

a letter from the vintage hotel foyer.

We were not having a great time really. Might have been better to save

our money and stay back in camp.

Thursday July 5m 1962

Up at 6 a.m. and out in the sunshine thankfully. With my camera..trying

to capture the gold rush flavour of Old Dawson City which is easy to do.

…the old hotels, the restored stern wheeler S.S.Keno hauled up on

the Yukon River shore, the slanted ruins of the hardware store, the

Presbyterian Church where the basement has been returned to the

permafrost (chairs and tables and hymn books covered nice), etc.

Then I went back to wake Bill up at our Occidental room where we

had breakfast with a drunk and a welfare case from Mayo Landing

(native lady with 6 kids)….All of us boarded the bus for the return

trip to Mayo.

WAITING FOR THE BUS ….GOING HOME TO MAYO LANDING

Nice drive down the Alaska highway to Stewart

crossing where Mr. Hutton met us and we hooked left to Mayo in

his truck. Nice to be heading home.

At Mayo we got into a conversation with Jack Atchinson, a placer miner…on

Haggert Creek. Pleasant fellow. He bought me a beer and I pulled up a

chair at a liege table where he was

entertaining two women from Elsa…an Australian girl married to a

man from United Keno and her friend. quite normal people…families

from Elsa where the population was 600 in 1962 . Boom times. Lots

of silver ore. Sober people. Families with kids.

(NOTE: This meeting with Jack Atshinson turned out not

to be accidental. I would meet him later. He was a big time

placer miner who was interested in us…wanted to hire to help him.)

Then we had to face the terrible walk back to our camp at Peso Silver from Haggart

Creek. We had no way to tell the camp we were coming back so

we had to walk .. to climb really …for five mlles from the bottom

of the Great Valley to the Peso Camp. We were welcomed

when we got back. Everyone was surprised.. Dirk drove down

and got our wet sleeping bags.

Glad to be back home.

Was the three day holiday worth it? Not really…it it was

somewhat interesting…got some good pictures. The best

thing about the Dawson Episode was that it gave me

a great idea as to how I would leave the

Yukon when the job was over.

How would I leave the Yukon ?

…cold cans of port and beans….White Pass bus to Whitehorse

…White Pass Railway to Skagway

…Ferry boat to Juneau Alaska

…”Big 707 set to go” flight to Seattle

…Then flight home to Toronto

…all I Would need was a spoon and a can opener.

alan skeoch

Jan. 3 2021

HERE’S A ROBERT SERVICE POEM THAT YOU MIGHT LIKE

MC’CLUSKEY’S NELL

BY ROBERT SERVICE

In Mike Maloney’s Nugget bar the hooch was flowin’ free, An’ One-eyed Mike was shakin’ dice wi’ Montreal Maree, An roarin’ rageful warning when the boys got overwild, When peekin’ through the double door he spied a tiny child. Then Mike Maloney muttered: “Hell! Now ain’t that jest too bad; It’s Dud McClusky’s orphen Nell a-lookin’ for her dad. An’ him in back, a-lushin’ wine wi’ Violet de Vere- Three times I’ve told the lousy swine to keep away from here.” “Pore leetle sing! He leaves her lone, so he go on ze spree: I feex her yet, zat Violet,” said Montreal Maree. Now I’m accommodatin’ when it comes to scented sin But when I saw that innocent step in our drunken din, I felt that I would like to crawl an’ hide my head in shame. An’ judgin’ by their features all them sourdoughs felt the same. For there they stood like chunks o’ wood, forgettin’ how to swear, An’ every glass o’ likker was suspended in the air. For with her hair of sunny silk, and big, blue pansy eyes She looked jest like an angel child stepped outa paradise. So then Big Mike, paternal like, took her upon his knee. “Ze pauv’ petite! She ees so sweet,” said Montreal Maree. The kid was mighty scared, we saw, an’ peaked an’ pale an’ sad; She nestled up to One-eyed Mike jest like he was her dad. Then he got strokin’ of her hair an’ she began to sob, An’ there was anger in the air of all that plastered mob, When in a hush so stark an’ strained it seemed to stab the ear, We heard the lush, plunk-parlour laugh o’ Violet de Vere. Then Montreal Maree arose an’ vanished from our sight, An’ soon we heard the sound o’ blows suggestin’ female fight. An’ when she joined the gang again dishevelly was she: “Jeezecrize! I fix zat Violet,” said Montreal Maree. Then Barman Bill cam forward with what seemed a glass o’ milk: “It’s jest an egg-nog Missy, but it’s slick an’ smooth as silk.” An’ as the kiddy slowly sipped wi’ gaze o’ glad surprise, Them fifty sozzled sourdoughs uttered fifty happy sighs. Then Ragtime Joe swung on his stool an’ soft began to play A liltin’ tune that made ye think o’ daffydills in May; An’ Gumboot Jones in solemn tones said: “You should hear her sing; They’ve got the cabin next to mine, an like a bird in Spring, She fills that tumble-down old shack wi’ simple melodee.” “Maybe she sing a song for us,” said Montreal Maree. Now I don’t hold wi’ mushy stuff, tear-jerkin’ ain’t my line, Yet somehow that kid’s singin’ sent the shivers down my spine; An’ all them salted sourdoughs sighed, an’ every eye was dim For what she sang upon the bar was just a simple hymn; Somethin’ about “Abide with me, fast falls the eventide,” My Mother used to sing it – say, I listened bleary-eyed. That childish treble was so sweet, so clear, so tender true, It seemed to grip you by the heart an’ did queer things to you. It made me think o’ childhood days from sin an’ sorrow free: “Zat child, she make me want to cry,” said Montreal Maree. Then up spoke One-eyed Mike: “What can’t with us let her abide; For her dear Mother’s sake we gotta send that kid outside. Ye know this camp’s a den o’ sin, ye know that Dud’s no dice – Let’s stake her to a convent school, an’ have her brought up nice.” An’ so them bearded sourdoughs crowded round an’ on an’ all, Dug down an’ flung upon the bar their nuggets great and small. “I guess we got a thousand bucks,” exulted One-eyed Mike; “You bastards are a credit to the camp of Lucky Strike.” “You see zis leetle silver cross my mozzaire give to me – Look, boys, I hang it on zee gosse,” said Montreal Maree. Time marches on; that little Nell is now a famous star, An’ yet she got her singin’ start on Mike Maloney’s bar. Aye it was back in ninety-eight she made her first dayboo, An’ of that audience to-day are left but only two. For all them bibulous sourdoughs have bravely passed away. An’ Lucky Strike is jest another ghost town to-day. But Nell now sings in opera, we saw her in Boheem; ‘Twas at a high-toned matinay, an’ say! she was a dream. So also thought the white-haired dame a-sittin’ down by me – My lovin’ spouse that once was known as Montreal Maree.
January 4, 2021
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

January 3, 2021
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.

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

January 2, 2021