the descent

 into the first level of hell.

 here i was on the levy of the klondike, on the far side through the mauze was the top of the world highway. one machine was awaiting the free ferry across. it would be easy to cross, keep going alaska being only 60 miles or kilometres - i forgot. i could do a circle come back via the kluane. i was so - relatively close to everything. up the dempster to inuvik, a diversion to skagway.i didn't count on the ferry being there. i chose dawson as i thought it would be the end. i would have to turn back but i really didn't a depressing thought.

walked around town making snaps of this place, thinking that if a place like dawson was in a third world country, we would be sending aid so that they could improve their living standards. this was the north american version of the favela tours of rio only here they have even rid the place of the inhabitants. 

needing stamps for postcards - post marks are important for placement - something this method of communication sorely lacks - stepped into the information centre only to be approached by someone in 1890's garb. this was becoming a bit too odd although i reckon dressed like that she would know of stamps and the post office.

looked for a place to have coffee - that looked like it served decent coffee - found a couple with promise but they were inundated with the tour bus crowd guessed that the best thing would be to get off the waterfront as every eatery was overflowing.

the clerk when i checked out asked about the room.

-fine except when the bars closed and the party started next door.

-yes dawson in the summer.

-doesn't it wear thin? i mean dirt streets wooden planks building falling down and everything turned into a hotel?

-let's say that we are glad when september comes. damn a fortnight early.

don't know why i had the need to photograph the city for other and this entry as there is google streetview but continued. also continued to photograph formally. the disparate objects that clashed between the centuries, a plastic kayak hanging from a hang painted sign. after a while i stopped this as it was becoming too easy.

needed breakfast and headed to nautical nellies.

felt differently about dawson. this was off the waterfront and while i could see baffled anoraked canon carrying crowds of pensioners, i had one of the best breakfasts in some time. firstly i didn't have to search for the vegetarian option. i had a version of huevos rancheros with black beans potatoes and junk salsa. the coffee was pretty bad. again it seemed that if one tried, it was possible to find a real town trying to break through the kitsch. 

the other nice weird disconnect is the help, i really doubt that when the gold rush was in full swing one would have a multicultural world of help up from vancouver at the front desks of hotels or as servers.

talked to one of the servers who also mentioned the odd forced feeling of dawson made worse this week by a film crew in town for a shoot. he was from victoria. i also realised that i was lucky as i passed the chinese restaurant in the midnight sun hotel that served up what would be called in the rest of the country chinese canadian food.

i left town, i started the descent. i had to if i continued on i would have continued on. i pretended that the klondike was the berlin wall and while i could look over to freedom, i would have to go back to the gulag on columbus drive.  no chicken, no tok, no old crow, no mayo. 

after paying $1,59/litre i made a wrong turn heading out of town and found a completely different dawson. outside of the  parks canada rehab i was interested, even more so when i saw the labrador flag outside one house wanted to ask why.

leaving it was raining. so much for making snaps on the way back so i entered the making time mode, racing to descend to the lower levels of hell.

then the rain stopped and i had to change driving habits. did stop. mainly for scenery but more and more as i got used to seeing smaller events along the highway. still the mind doesn't react as quickly as the machine. many u-turns or slamming into reverse.

tough decisions at the dempster highway, again when the klondike met the alaska highway - only 800km to fairbanks... but no kept on the return trip like a good ankle braceleted lad that i am. 

whitehorse was manageable few people but baked was packed one last decent meal until dawson creek i thought.

decided not to wade through puddles of water this time in watson lake. 

try t find this hotel a nice hotel but cannot find it ask and hear that it is behind the petro canada gasbar.

fill out the card for the room

buddy looks at it i think that he cannot read my writing

• oh i can read it all right i wonder if i believe it. pleasant prairie
• yeah and it is neither. i think developers play name roulette with village like deer lake where there are neither

he laughs

• i got one better. come by chance,
• yep been there

he's puzzled.

but i can top that dildo across the bay from spread eagle.

turns out buddy is from marystown on the burin peninsula

the room is quite nice.