Once again Ray and I will be heading out on another journey with our truck and 5th wheel. This time we are travelling in our own back yard. We have decided to explore our own beautiful Province and head up into the Yukon Territory. We originally had wanted this trip to take us into Alaska, but due to travel insurance restrictions for me, we decided to only go as far as the Yukon. Saying that we,,,, are hopefully going to travel as far north as Dawson City, which is very close to the Alaskan border. So who knows,,,,we may just continue driving on the Top of the World Highway right into Tok Alaska,,,,,,just for a couple of hours. So we can say,,,,,yes we have travelled into Alaska. We shall see.....

If any of you recall from our last adventure (Ray and Lori's Accidental Shenanigans) when we were camping near Mt Rushmore, someone (mmmm would that be Ray?) dropped our handheld GPS into a sink full of water. It was in the water less than 3 seconds, but that was long enough to ruin it. We tried drying it out but it no longer worked. Because I am lost without a GPS on these trips, last summer when we got home Ray promised to buy me a new one. We had looked around for about 6 weeks until we found the perfect one. The best part was, this new GPS came attached to a truck. Specifically a 2014 Dodge Laramie Eco Diesel. Yup...... Ray has parted company with Chev and moved on over to Dodge country! He was not at all happy with the milage his big tank of a truck (Chev 2500 HD) had gotten on the last trip. It was a gas loving P.I.G.,,, and I knew when we hit the Great Bear snow shed on the Coquihala last summer, that he would not be keeping that truck. Never in my dreams (or probably his either) did I think that he would not buy another Chev product. I thought he was going to go for the Duramax Diesel. But not this time.....this truck is a real beaut and has everything we will ever need in a truck. It drives like a car but pulls like a truck. Oh and the GPS,,,,,,is fabulous!!! Being diesel it will be much better on fuel then the Chev. But stay tuned as you KNOW, I will share any good stories about Ray and his obsession with the fuel gauge!

We have a couple of "for sure" stops along the way. First night (or two) will be in Williams Lake visiting with Gord and Viv Rutherford. From there we will head to Dawson Creek for a few nights to visit with my sister Christine, her husband Rod and of course little Georgia. Then onto Liard Hot Springs, Whitehorse and Dawson City. The rest of the trip will be our usual "flying by the seat of our pants". Wherever the mood strikes to go. That is what we like about these crazy adventures,,,,,we never really know where we are going!!

You may wonder about the choice of a title for this blog. I wanted something catchy that would stick in the readers mind, but my mind was a total blank. I asked a few people for some ideas. My sister Christine suggested "Our Search for Sam McGee". So I pulled up the poem by Robert W. Service. After reading it over a few times I felt considering we are heading into the Yukon and Klondike areas, it is an appropriate title for this blog. We may not be searching for gold, but I am sure that whatever we find and whoever we meet along the way will be a real treasure for us.

Who was Sam McGee you ask? The real Sam McGee was born in Lindsay Ontario in 1868. At the time of the great Klondike gold rush, McGee was living in San Fransisco as a road builder. Thinking that he would strike gold, along with so many others, and hiking over the Chilkoot mountains, he made the trek to the Yukon in 1898. In 1899 he built a cabin in Whitehorse and settled down with his wife. That same year he discovered and staked a copper deposit in the hills overlooking Whitehorse. It eventually produced over twenty million dollars worth of copper, gold and silver. In 1907 he built a two story log home at the corner of Fifth and Wood Street in Whitehorse, which is supposed to still be standing today (Maybe we will see it and take a photo for the blog when we are there). After 10 years in the Yukon, he moved his family to Summerland BC to become a fruit farmer. Then in 1930 he once again returned to the Yukon to prospect along the Liard River. In pursuit of other adventures he moved his family around many times... The Okanagan, Edmonton, Great Falls Montana and then back again into Canada, to Beiseker Alberta where he died on September 11, 1940 at the age of 73.

The character Sam McGee of the below noted poem, was from a fictional town of Plumtree Tennessee. The author, Robert W. Service, writes of the people he met in the Yukon during the gold rush. He did get permission from McGee to use his name in the poem.

For your reading pleasure,,,,

The Cremation of Sam McGee

BY ROBERT W. SERVICE

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.

Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.

He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;

Though he'd often say in his homely way that "he'd sooner live in hell."

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.

Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail.

If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see;

It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,

And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe,

He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, "I'll cash in this trip, I guess;

And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request."

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of moan:

"It's the cursèd cold, and it's got right hold till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.

Yet 'tain't being dead—it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;

So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains."

A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;

And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.

He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;

And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,

With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given;

It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: "You may tax your brawn and brains,

But you promised true, and it's up to you to cremate those last remains."

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.

In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.

In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,

Howled out their woes to the homeless snows— O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;

And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;

The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;

And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;

It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the "Alice May."

And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;

Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry, "is my cre-ma-tor-eum."

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;

Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;

The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;

And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so;

And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.

It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why;

And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;

But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;

I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside.

I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; ... then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;

And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: "Please close that door.

It's fine in here, but I greatly fear you'll let in the cold and storm—

Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."