Dawson City, Yukon
Testing the limits
When in the Yukon, do as Yukoners do
HORSE POWER: Interpretive wagon tours of Dawson City are available throughout the summer. Click here to view our gallery (WARNING: Not for the squeamish).—photo courtesy Tanya Laing Gahr
I have no one but myself to blame. After all, I am the one who, more than a year ago, publicly pledged never to let a little fear get in the way of a new experience. The only parameter I set for myself was that whatever challenge I take on must be safe, legal and out of the ordinary. It occurs to me that I should have said something about avoiding dismembered body parts.
More on that in a moment.
Tourism Yukon᾿s slogan for Canada’s northern territory is “Larger than life,” and if you’ve ever visited the Yukon, you know it fits. The landscape, the wildlife, the people: everything is bigger, wilder, more colourful and—in many respects—more real than what you’ve left behind. This is still very much a wild frontier. Hunters, prospectors and even dance hall girls still make a living up here. There are modern and, in Whitehorse, urban trappings and sensibilities—but for the most part, the Yukon is still wild, woolly and as authentic a place as there is in the world. RVers from North America make the journey to experience the Far North every week during the summer months, and travellers from Germany fly into Whitehorse, rent RVs and visit Canada’s frontier.
Northern prospects
My trip to the Yukon was for business; I was touring many of the territory’s exploration sites along with several other journalists and members of the Yukon government. For two nights, we were stationed in Dawson City. Dawson City’s legend starts with the discovery of gold at the close of the 19th century. For two mad years, the Klondike Gold Rush brought prospectors, merchants and other entrepreneurs—some with more salacious business plans than others—to Dawson City. In 1898, Dawson City was the largest centre in Canada west of Winnipeg. When gold was discovered on the beaches of Nome, Alaska, many prospectors left Dawson City in the year before the greatest production: $22 million in 1899.
Today, as you fly over Dawson City, you can see how the rivers have been altered by the historic dredges. The tailings from dredges look like giant stone caterpillars. There are still active placer gold miners in the area but with the welcome advent of environmental controls, the rivers are protected from the almost unfathomable damage still visible today. On these tailings there are now trees, shrubs and even subdivisions that have taken root.
Legendary history
Dawson City’s legend inspired other legends, such as Pierre Burton, Jack London and Robert Service; you can see their historic homes as you walk the streets of the town. The streets are not paved with gold; in fact, they’re not paved at all. Boardwalks, horse-drawn carriages, false-front buildings and the ever-present Yukon spirit add to the authenticity of the place.
But the dismembered body parts—I promised you that tale, didn’t I?
There are two stops that cannot, must not, be missed on a visit to Dawson City. One is Diamond Tooth Gertie’s. Based on the legend of one of the city’s most prosperous dance hall girls, Gertie’s is a lively venue complete with slots, blackjack tables and cancan girls—including the eponymous Gertie who flirts outrageously with every chap in the joint. An hourly show with singing, dancing and bawdy humour is worth the price of admission alone.
A daring achievement
And the night I visited, the admission was showing my certificate of dubious achievement that displayed my good standing—or staggering—in the Sourtoe Cocktail Club. Every night, new members are inducted in the club at the Downtown Hotel in Dawson City. There, with the urging of “friends” and under the influence of a few wobbly pops, and for the low, low price of $5, you can have a shot of your favourite libation with the addition of a petrified human toe for flavour. Captain Dick River Rat kindly asks that you do not swallow the toe. You would think that you wouldn’t need to ask this, but as they are on Toe #8, this is apparently an issue. After buying your favourite beverage from the bar, you sit at the table with Captain River Rat who swears you in and holds the blackened, shrivelled toe at eye level. There is no hiding from this—that digit is going for the drink.
I was not remotely squeamish, though my friends from the Yukon government had some hesitation. However, they kindly held my camera and belongings while I held my nose and took the shot. There is but one condition—two if you count the promise not to swallow the appendage: You can drink it fast or you can drink it slow but your lips must touch the toe.
It’s over quickly. Because the toe is kept on coarse salt, the only flavour it adds to your drink is a bit of salinity. There is no discernible flavour of flesh, for example. It’s like dropping a chunk of beef jerky in your drink only, you know, with a toenail attached to it. There’s nothing easier.
A Yukon welcome
The next evening, we met some newcomers to town, including a Texan who had just one night to experience Dawson City. He asked me what there was to do in the area that he would never be able to do anywhere else.
“Come with me, my friend,” I said to him.
Which is how I ended up doing a second shot. I’m told not many people do that. Regardless, the Sourtoe Cocktail Club is an illustrious group who, according the the certificate you receive after downing the drink, are capable of almost anything. If you are a member of this group, please email me and send me your toe shots—by which I mean photographs. We Sourtoes must stick together.
