Skagway, Alaska

Our next port was Skagway, Alaska (pop. 850, I think I heard).  Supposedly the little town hasn't changed much since the Gold Rush.  It might look the same on the outside, but the shops in Skagway are mostly tourist junk: Eskimo ornaments, t-shirts, knick-knacks, fudge.  I might have enjoyed it more had it not been pouring rain.  Or maybe not.

However, it was in Skagway that we boarded the White Pass & Yukon Route Railroad, which climbs almost 3,000 feet to the border of British Columbia, along the same route thousands of gold-seekers traveled on foot in the 1890's (the tracks would eventually lead you into the Yukon).  I was a little worried that the train trip would be lame.  I was wrong.

Photographs (my photographs, anyway) cannot quite capture the experience of being in a train on the side of a mountain, with the Class 6 rapids of the Skagway River churning in the bottom of the ravine far below you and an even taller mountain rising out of the fog on the either side of the chasm.  It was beautiful.

At one point, we could see the actual trail on which the miners walked.  It was probably not more than two feet wide. 

Becky spent most of the train ride out in the platform, taking pictures.  Hers are better than mine -- oh well.