Bearfooting in Klondike Country!

"Bearfooting" is a verb that means having a good time. It is also a state of mind, when your journey becomes more important than you destination. You know you're bearfooting when you find yourself sitting beside a campfire, and can't remember the day of the week. What's more, you don't even care.

The above is a quote taken out of a magazine that we found our first day in Alaska. Katie thought that it suited our vacation style very well, which it does, as you know if you have read any of our blogs up until this point. We have had this quote in the back of our minds ever since reading it and now that we have truly taken to the road again it has become more prominent than ever.

Now, back to our travels...

Chicken, Alaska is an old mining town established in 1903. Chicken was named by early day miners in the area who wanted to name the camp "Ptarmigan." The ptarmigan was plentiful in the area and it was an easy, quick meal for the miners to catch and eat. Eventually the ptarmigan became the state bird of Alaska. After naming their town "ptarmigan," the miners began to construct signs and flags with the towns name on it when they came across a problem... no one knew how to spell ptarmigan. Since the bird apparently tastes a lot like chicken, they settled on that for a name instead. Chicken, Alaska would be our first stop for the day and also our last stop in Alaska itself. We left Tok in the morning arriving to Chicken about noon. We were intrigued to learn, via the Milepost, that there were only 6 permanent residents in Chicken. Another intriguing fact was that both of the towns gas stations offered free gold

panning and free lodging (amongst other things) with a fill up of gas. It was the gold panning that Katie and I were interested in. We had so much fun gold panning before and we were itching for the to opportunity to try it out on our own. We got 2 pans from the attendant and went over to the river to seek our fortune. There was a couple shovels which we used to dig out our dirt,

then we filled our pans and headed to the river to start panning. We repeated this process for a few hours and though we found gold almost every time, it was just small specs and only amounted to a fraction of what we found at El Dorado. In the end we could hear a rattle if we shook our container and that was good enough for us. Afterwards, Katie wanted to see the "downtown"

area, which consisted of 3 small buildings next to each other. She got some ice cream for lunch, then we headed back on the road toward the border. We had to deal with some heavy construction to get there, but after about 2 hours, we made it to customs. This would prove to be our easiest border crossing of the trip thus far. The agent asked us 2 questions and we were off, beginning our trek down the Top of the World Highway toward Dawson City. The views were as stunning as ever but unfortunately Katie and I have become slightly numb to it, not stopping at nearly as many lookouts as we used to, nor taking as many pictures. Still, I believe that the experience is not lost on us, and when we look back on this trip, all of the amazing roads that we have traveled will easily be a highlight. After our beautiful drive, we pulled up to the free ferry, the only way across the Yukon River, and entered Dawson City. At first we were very skeptical of this town. It seemed like a literal ghost town. We had heard so much about it from various people and just figured that there would be some tourists there, even though it was technically the off season, but there just wasn't. We drove around town for about 10 minutes, which is all that it took to drive every road in the city, then decided to seek out the visitors center to see what they suggested. Not much was the answer. We decided that we would grab a bite to eat at Klondike Kate's, walk the river trail that followed the Yukon, then head to the Sourdough Saloon to do the infamous Sourtoe Cocktail shot. For those of you who can't remember, or choose not to, here is the legend behind the Sourtoe Cocktail. Back in the old days, a miner got severe frost bite on his big toe, eventually having to cut it off. To preserve it, he stuck it into a bottle of whiskey which he had. He brought this bottle back to town, toe in tow, and proceeded to drink at the Sourdough Saloon. After a few drinks, he got into an "I'm more man than you are" argument with another guy. This resulted in the dare, "I bet you're not man enough to take a shot with my toe in it." From there, a legend

was born. Unfortunately, the original toe was swallowed years later during a similar argument, but not to worry. Townsfolk apparently are literally lined up to donate their own toe to the Sourdough when and a number of citizens have already willed their own toes to them when they go. When we got to the bar, we decided it was best not to dive right in. We enjoyed a beer and played some darts before approaching the bartender with our request. Secretly, I was hoping that someone would do the shot before us so I could see what I was up against, but there was only about 10 people in the bar and no one seemed to be interested. When we finally worked up the courage, the bartender seemed enthused that we wanted a Sourtoe Cocktail and immediately

opened a closet door and pulled out a big chest. We instantly feared we bit off more than we could chew. The bartender pulled out a big glass container, filled with salt, and dumped it onto the bar; the toe came out moments later. We both decided that we would do the Sourtoe shot in its traditional drink, Yukon Jack. I was selected to do the first shot. I donned the captains hat and after being sworn in, took the shot down, the toe touching my lips. The bartender wanted more from

me and began to harass me about it, so in true "I'm more man than you are" fashion, I reached for the glass again and threw the toe in my mouth, this time getting the thing in all the way beyond the nail. Let me just say, GROSS! Satisfied by my second effort, the bartender moved onto Katie. I

gave her the captains hat and after being sworn in herself, she took down the shot like a champ! It didn't even phase her that a mummified toe had just touched her lips! I was extremely impressed since I had my doubts that she would even attempt to do it, but did it easily and without any complaint. The worst part about the shot was the afterthought. The rest of the night we both got the shivers any time we thought of the toe against are lips and in my case, in my mouth, still sort of do. After our shots we left the bar and headed to the only other place open in town, Diamond Tooth Gertie's. Now, when I said earlier that this place was a ghost town, here is where I eat my words. As we left the bar and the sun

had set, we noticed the streets were alive with people, and every one of them heading to Diamond Tooth Gertie's like moths to candlelight. Diamond Tooth Gertie's is a gambling hall equipped with a dance and music show every couple of hours. We showed up just in time for the second show of the evening and afterwards decided to try our hand at some gambling. Katie took 10 bucks and hit the slot machines, quickly changing her 10 dollars to 20 within minutes. I proceeded to play a card game called red dog and gave the 20 bucks back to the gambling hall. We stayed at Gertie's until the final show at midnight then moseyed back to CJ, who was right at home in this old west town. We were hoping to see the northern lights tonight and even though there was not a cloud in the sky, there were no northern lights visible. The stars however, were breathtaking, and we stayed outside for several minutes looking at them. We could easily see many constellations, satellites, the milky way, and a planet that we decided must be Venus. We realized we were too quick to judge this old west town and ended up having a great, though unusual, time during our stay.