Month: February 2021

  • EPISODE 341 YUKON DIARY: DOING THE YUKON IN REVERSE ORDER: DEAD HORSE GULCH

    Note:  Sorry this story needs editing but I have no time…trying to do one story each day


    EPISODE  341    YUKON DIARY:   DOING THE YUKON IN REVERSE ORDER

                                   DEAD HORSE GULCH
    alan skeoch
    Feb.1 2021

    There  were two passes to the Yukon.  The Chilkoot Pass and  the Dead Horse Pass…renamed
    the White Pass. I took  the latter.  There were  a lot of dead horses here.  I never saw any. Their
    bone were now  as great as the rocks.

    Only due to the lust for gold  were these passes found

    “There is no route from Skagway to the Yukon.:
    “Not so.”, said the Tlinget native.
    “Those  coastal  mountains are impassable.”
    “Not so.” said the Tlinget native
    “Impassable…no way to reach the Yukon River….Lake Bennett headwaters.”
    “Not so.” said the Tlinget naive
    “Prove it…show me the way.” said the white man
    “Secret trail of my people.”
    “Show me.”
    “We have traded  with the interior people of the HighYukon plateau  for  many years…through this
     pass.”
    “Show me.”

    And the Tlinget revealed the mountain pass now called the Chilkoot Pass.  Steep with
    jumbles of loose rock on a formidable incline.  Then snow and ice high above the Ocean
    far below.  Crested slot that then tipped downward to the icy waters of glacial Lake Bennett.
    But this was not the end of the trek.  Only the beginning.  From Lake Bennett the gold seekers
    still had 550 more miles to cover if they were to reach Dawson City.

    Wednesday Sept. 12, 1962


    men working to build a railroad on the side of a steep mountain
    Building the White Pass Railway  1890’s

    Narrow gauge railroad that goes just about nowhere.  Climbs over the Coastal mountains
    from tiny inconsequential Skagway by twists and turns…through tunnels that seem rough blasted…over
    timbered bridges clinging to Mountainside.  

    The White Pass moves slowly. As if expecting catastrophe any moment.  Screaming braking system
    jawing musically as metal on metal maintains the slow descent through Dead Horse Gulch.  This is
    not the Chilcoot Pass route.   The railway follows another somewhat gentler but loner route named
    after a long forgotten politician.   This is the Dead Horse  Gulch Pass.


    Chilkoot Pass…no easy trip with 1 ton of  supplies per man

    In 1897 the  Yukon Territory was virtually an unknown land peppered here and there by  
    natives.  Even these people avoided the eastern part of the Yukon in fear of evil spirits that
    were  living there.   A few white trappers and even fewer white placer miners eked out a
    shaky existence.   Food, other than wild meats, had to be carried over the coastal mountains
    or steamed up the  Yukon River.  Not worth the  aggravation was the conclusion of most people.
    There were better places.  As a result much of the Yukon was an empty land.  That changed when the gold fever of the Klondike.  And then,
    when the easy  gold ran out, along came the silver boom at Keno Hill.  

    White Pass Railway was the route out for the silver ore.  Refined in the United States.
    Think of the Yukon as a huge tank of water with one tiny spigot at the bottom.  The White Pass.

    My passenger car  was made in 1900 just when  the White  Pass route was completed
    Ancient.   Coal stoves for  heat in each car.  Soft seats now but I bet they were once  slatted
    seats.

    And  I bet dollars to donuts the White  Pass railroad passed by the piles of dead horses 
    whose  putrifying remains littered the crevices and deep trenches along the way.  Dead
    Horse  Gulch in particular.   I strained my eyes expecting to see  a boneyard far below
    but saw nothing.  In 60 to 70 years the bones got as grey as the rocks.

    How  many horses?  Dozens?  No.  Thousands…perhaps as many as 3,000 horses
    died on this so called easier route to Lake Bennett.  Terrible  stories neglect and
    brutality.   Many of the men climbing through this Pass knew nothing about horses
    and pack saddles.  They just strapped the gear to horses backs.  When a hundred
    pound sack of flour shifted, horses fell over.  Often injured horses were killed.  I suspect
    even  this humane act was not done since some  horses rolled over  and over down
    the rock strewn slopes.  These thousands of horses were ill treated  before they ever
    got to Skagway.  Jammed bum to bum on steamships.  Some already weak and sick.

    Best described by Jack London

    “The horses died like mosquitoes in the first frost and from Skagway to Bennett they rotted in heaps. They died at the rocks, they were poisoned at the summit, and they were starved at the lakes; they fell off the trail, what there was of it, and they went through it; in the river they drowned under their loads or were smashed to peices against the boulders; they snapped their legs in the crevices and broke their backs falling backwards with their packs; in the sloughs they sank from fright or smothered in the slime; and they were disemboweled in the bogs where the corduroy logs turned end up in the mud; men shot them, worked them to death and when they were gone, went back to the beach and bought more. Some did not bother to shoot them, stripping the saddles off and the shoes and leaving them where they fell. Their hearts turned to stone- those which did not break- and they became the beasts, the men on the Dead Horse Trail.” -Jack London, Journalist. The God of His Fathers, Doubleday Page & Co., New York, 1914, p. 70-80



    There are  other even more gruesome stories about these horses. Men impoverished and
    starving cut slabs from these dead horses for food.  Hard to believe?   Try starving yourself
    to near death and see  if your opinions change.






    men with horses carrying bales of hay

    And suppose a great many horses actually  survived and  made it to the shores of
    Lake Bennett.  What then? Load them aboard the hand made boats that rafted down
    the Yukon To Dawson.  Shoot them?  Sell them?

    Or just abandon the horses…or sell them…or eat them.   Horses do wander away unless
    fenced.   Mares can be captured  by stallions.   In  1962 there were wild horses here and
    there in the Yukon.  In small herds of mares with one stallion.  Where  did they come from.
    I think we saw  a small string on our trip to Dawson. Almost hidden in the brush.



    These horses from Skagway do not look abused.  They are hauling goods not
    carrying them.  Not much room for error here.  But no precipices either.  Each
    man had to show he was brining  1 ton of supplies to Canadian authorities…i.e. Sergeant Sam
    Steele of  the NWMP otherwise  refused entry to Canada’s Yukon Territory.


    MY interest was triggered by a misty event on our two day holiday to Dawson City in midsummer.
    Three or four of our gang of joyriders  were jammed into the back of a  Peso Silver half ton truck
    for that long 3 to 4 hour jaunt.  At one point we noticed movement in the brush at the side of
    the road.  There was something alive behind the screen of scrub.  Several animals…not a single
    animal like a moose.   

    “Could be wild  horses, mares with a stallion.  Several strings of them
    have been sighted.  A couple have been  hit on the highway around Dawson”
    “You must be kidding?”
    “Check it out.”

    Which is exactly what I did.  The wild horses are  a concern on the Alaska highway where
    they seem to cluster in several strings.  Very wiley creatures.  Efforts to catch them have failed.
    How can horses survive the brutal winters?   Simple answer.  On each side of the Dawson
    Highway are the remains of large hay fields.  Yukon summers are full daylight…maybe 16 hours.
    Lots still grows in these wild fields.  From the gold rush days to the 1930’s horses were 
    important as a means of  transportation.  Every 20 or 25 miles of the old Dawson  road there
    were roadhouses where teamsters could  get fresh horses or give their 4 to 6 horse teams a
    rest.  Some of these roadhouses were decent places.  Others were as  dirty and neglected  as
    the hubs of  hell.  Eventually the internal combustion engine replaced  all the horses hauling 
    goods  from Whitehorse to Dawson.

    I do  not know what happened to those horses.  Many would be slaughtered of course…dog food
    for sled dogs along with moose.  Some just got loose.  Turned loose or abandoned.  Most would
    die  but it seems there  were…there are….a few stallions with their mares trotting cautiously 
    through the underbrush  of the Yukon.  I think I saw a string of them from the back  of that 
    half ton truck.  

    Now this next comment is  a real  stretch.  Total  speculation…ridiculous  speculation.  It might just
    be possible  that the wild horses running in the Yukon in 1962 might have been survivors who crawled
    up Dead Horse Gulch (White Pass) and survived because their owners knew how to handle  a horse
    and  knew that horses could be useful in the mining business.  In the 1920’s there were 98 horses
    working on Keno Hill…and at the same time there were far more doing work on the Dawson Road
    living in the barns beside those roadhouses.

    Wouldn’t it be wonderful if those wild horse strings had a genetic connection to Dead  Horse Gulch.

    Wild horse  herds did exist in the year 1962 in the Yukon Territory.   In 2010 one of the last herds of
    wild Yukon horses was captured and all eleven including the stallion were put up for auction in hope
    that some horse  lover would want to rehabilitate them…i.e. break them, make them docile.  Whether
    this happened or not is not mentioned in the CBC news release.


    “Animal control officer Paul Heynen said he has spent years trying to capture the Takhini Valley herd of wild horses, but the animals have proven to be elusive.

    “I can have a report that they’re out there and I can be there in an hour and they’re gone. You know, they’re just like ghosts … poof, and they’re gone,” Heynen told CBC News.”



    These  horses were not easy to handle once corralled  because the stallion went wild once
    fenced in.  Lunging at the fences.. Longing to escape.  While government officials believed
    this was the last herd ofYukon wild  horses, many locals believe one  or two strings of
    them still thrives in hidden places.  They are as wily as wolves, never staying long in
    one place and therefore difficult to trap.

    ANCIENT WILD HORSES OF THE YUKON

    Wild horses once commonly roamed the Yukon as has  been proven by a bone  found by  Duanne Froese, an earth
    science  professor ar the University  of Alberta.   The bone was found in the permafrost enveloping the
    Thistle Creek  gold  mine about 100 km. south of Dawson City.
    in 2013.  The bone fragment’s genome once annilysed turned out to be  700,000  years old.   
    It seems that Horses have thrived in the Yukon for a long long time.


    alan skeoch
    Feb. 1, 2021

    Post Script

    Events have a curious way of coming together and making sense.  Serendipity is the word.  It means a coming together
    of seemingly disparate events.  Here’s a weird one.  In 1963-64, Marjorie (then Hughes) was  teaching high school
    in Napanee, Ontario.  Miles  and miles from western Canada.  A group of girls joined Marjorie in forming their cell
    of the Canadian Wild Horse society.  They donated some money to support the survival  of wild horses primarily in
    Alberta but also  in the Yukon.  These horses needed protection.  The Canadian government considered horses
    an introduced species…therefore  gave them no protection.  Marjorie’s students and  other young people, mostly
    girls, were assuring that a few herds of wild horses continued to roam through the Rocky Mountain valleys.

    I am not sure that is still the case.

  • EPISODE 240 YUKON DAIRY DOING THE YUKON IN REVERS… DEAD HORSE PASS, CHILCOOT TRAIL TO SKAGWAY IN 1962

    EPISODE  240    YUKON DIARY    DEAD HORSE PASS, CHILCOOT TRAIL TO SKAGWAY IN 1962

    TITLE:   DOING THE YUKON IN REVERSE



    alan skeoch
    Jan.2021

    Have you ever got so immersed in a dream that you want to live
    that dream in real life?   No joke.  I dream a lot.  Good dreams for
    the most part .  Dreams that I would like to live out in  my real life.
    That’s the way I felt about the Yukon.  Stop.  Change the tense from
    past to present.  That’s the way I feel  about the Yukon to this day.
    I relive it.  All that revelry in the Mayo barroom was a replication of
    the Yukon gold rush days … right down to the drunkenness…the  story
    telling…the  indescribable  brutal work that was a necessary base to brining
    the Yukon tensions and  glories of discovery back to life.Vomit, staggering,
    laughing, agonizing, fear, joy, triumphs, tragedies.   Almost every feeling a  human
    being  can share  is there…’Is’ not ‘was’…present not past.

    No Yukon replication  is complete  without the mystique of Skagway.
    The brutality of Skagway.  So I planned this  lonely trek as an integral
    part of living out the dream.   To not do so would mean the whole Yukon 
    experience  would  be truncated.  A tree without roots.  A dream without 
    meaning.

    Wednesday , Sept. 12, 1962

    Arose  early today.  Nervous that I would miss a connection.  I have no watch.
    Never have had one.  My body usually serves  me well if I mentally set my
    brain correctly.  “Alan, get up early, you must board the White Pass Railway
    on its downhill trip to Skagway.”   And  click…brain lock…woke in  time to
    get my ticket,  $19.00, for the down hill rumble to Skagway…down mountain says it better.

    We  are descending from theYukon plateau to a tiny village hanging on the hostile glacier clad
    shores of the Pacific Ocean.   Descending.  Imagining how the gold crazed men and s
    few women made the trek upwards when there  was  no railway.  Only the impossible near 
    vertical climb up the Chilcoot Pass.  Could I have made that climb?  Did  I have the guts
    and determination those men and women shared.  Did I have a thirst for great wealth
    the would  free me from labour for the rest of my life?   Not sure.  But I  think I could
    do it.

    Hindu philosophy says “You can have whatever you want in life.” Which forces the
    big secondary question. “What do I really want?”  Great wealth? Fame?  No, I want 
    to live my life to the fullest.  I want to share my life with others.  I want to marry
    Marjorie as a starter.  And  one small goal… I want to complete  my experience of the Yukon.

    And there before me on this day were two passes through the coastal mountains.  White Pass, also  called  the Dead Horse  Pass
    and the Chilcoot Pass.  Men … 100,000 of them had  answered the Hindu question.  They wanted Wealth and  were prepared  to
    die to get it.  Gold. Gold  Gold.

    I  stared at those rocky slopes  from my railway car.

    FLASH: I thought of those back breaking loads three of us carried on the Groundhog River
    job way back in 1959.  Loads so heavy that the metal packframes twisted into scrap and
    our backs screamed.   i thought I could do it.  Why would  I want to?  Fair question.  I  suppose
    the answer makes no real sense.  I wanted to prove something to myself.  I could take it.
    Not pride of strength.  But force of will.  There comes a time in everyone’s life when there is
    challenge where failure  and success are both present at the same time.  On the Groundhog River
    job three of us  lived  cut off from normal life for nearly three months.  I hated and loved that
    job  in equal measure  I  failed sometimes and succeeded  in other times.  I met that wall.
    On that job Floyd  Faulkner, our crew chief, named  me Fucking Al.  A compliment. I think
    and still do.  He did not call me a crybaby…a quitter…
    Funny how that all came back to me as our near empty train made its slow descent.

    AND NOW I AM DOING THE YUKON IN REVERSE ORDER

    Dead horse pass   

    STORY COMING IN EPISODE 241






    CONTINUED IN EISODE 241


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