BOBILLIER, MARCEL (2.2A) (120 ENGLISH)
DAY TWO - 2nd day: Canyon City
Sheep Camp and Excelsior
I woke up at 5 o'clock and tried to relight the fire. We breakfasted on cold meat and a few cups of coffee and at 6 o'clock, after having readied our baggage, once again we started off.
We found the path which we'd follow for a long distance, a trail sometimes marked on the trees or indicated by an old oven left by the gold seekers, or by pieces of metal or an old plank, Sometimes we'd lose the rail then re-find it under brush and scrub covered by moss. Sometimes it was flooded and we had to go around various places by climbing on the sides of the mountain, to re-descend later and to traverse various streams by fording them going across rocks or fallen trees. It would no doubt have been very difficult to have crossed some of these streams during high water season in the spring or summer. It was certainly the best time right then to take-on this trip.
However what really surprised me was the number of frogs which I found in the woods, big frogs that jumped around nonchalantly and which I crushed too often underfoot. Apparently these bactracians were very acclimatized to the spongy coastal land.
Around 8 o'clock after having crossed long rocky stretches where we found, here and there, the tracks of those who preceded us, we reached the mouth of two streams which formed the Taiga River. It's there, in the forest that Canyon City used to be, a village of tents and hotels, of cabins and warehouses, built in the bottom of the valley as a stage before climbing towards the heights.
Nothing remained of this city but seeing the first telephone post, we were sure that we had reached this spot, nine miles from Dyea.
From now on the trail was well marked: formerly a wide road where horses could pull carts and wagons in the summer and the dogs, sleds in the winter. The old bridges over the innumerable gorges existed still but were rotten and in ruin. This route brought us high up a mountain side, while in the bottom of the valley the waters were full of fury and flowed in a dizzying noise through the rocks of a canyon. All this was very nice to follow; the trail went up and down. The whole length of the trail was marked on each side by two moss-covered tree trunks.
Towards noon, the trail forced us to descend to the level of the river. There a vast vista opened up before us. The banks of the mountain on our right resembled those of the Skagway River; they were composed of fresh rocks glaciers situated up high on the summits.
After having crossed one of these torrents, we lost the trail. We continued through the woods and bushes along a river bank and stopped on a sand-bar to make a fire and to cook a pot of rice and raisins.
Sheep Creek used to be not far from there. At the time of the gold rush it was a city of some tents and cabins connected to Canyon city and to the Chilkoot Pass by one telephone line, and we could still see the fallen posts and the fallen wire along the old trail.
We saw numerous and large bear footprints while we ascended the trail of this stream which we followed now and then by walking on the pebbles.
When we turned a certain point, we faced an immense field of snow. Its sharp sides anchored high up from where pieces of ice fell noisily all night long from the crest of the mountains.
Water cascaded from another invisible glacier. A rocky crest which we had to go around hid the heights of this valley where the trees grew shorter and shorter and gave way to bushes which covered the mountain sides.
From this point, we had our first perspective of Chilkoot Pass whose broken summit rose up two miles away at the bottom of the valley.
We slowly ascended the course of the stream and climbed little by little up a very rocky height where there was no more greenery. Fog covered the neighboring summits. Night was falling on this alpine scenery while we searched around for a place to camp.
Apparently we were close to Excelsior, the last relay station before climbing the Chilkoot where so many gold seekers camped in 1898. On a rocky point, a large post rose up, which supported cables suspended right up to the tops of the Pass. Lower down, abandoned houses in ruin were only piles of grey boards.
We camped close to these ruins, at the side of the stream, on land slightly inclined and covered in spongy grasses which would help us to spend a better night. The skies were covering over, and it would probably rain during the night.
Father Boyd cut dwarf willows, installed the tent while I climbed higher up looking for half-rotted boards for the fire. Doing so, I found an old oil lamp and other utensils here and there amidst the rocks. On this day, we noticed old sleds or sleighs, numerous iron pieces and the whitened bones of a horse at the bottom of the stream.
That night, I cooked macaroni and sausage and we enjoyed this supper while the first drop of rain started to fall. We went to bed and slept for twelve hours. The rain fell on the tent, but under its folds we felt fresh and alert the next morning when we got up.
ref: Marcel Bobblier - omi
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