The "Service" Road

We are soon in the Yukon again and yet once more toggling between time zones.We find ourselves pulling over to gawk at the wonderful scenery and so do not make very good time, but we are sure having one! Robert Service's verse captures the largeness of the scenery and the vast spaces the of the Yukon. Even at 55 mph . . . (sorry folks even in the Canada I don't do metric) . . . the spaces between man made landmarks are enormous.

As we follow the Hwy 2 we again think of those stampeders, pushing north in their small home made boats, on the way to the Klondike.We stop at Carcross, if we had time we would go up the Canol road to Tagish and Marsh Lake. But White Horse is slated for tonight so we push on. We arrive in White horse at 11 pm and grab a very nice motel on the edge of town which is also a RV park. We crawl into bed and turn on the television just in time to watch Martha Stewart show us how to make Smores on a gas range, hmmm - that is enough television for one vacation!
We get an early start as there is much we want to do today. We find our way back to Miles Canyon, the place so talked about in gold rush lore. It is a nice park with a bridge spanning the chasm. It is a sleepy river now, we both expected it to be a bit more turbulent. The famed White Horse Rapids which the town takes its name from is no more, now being used for hydro electric production. Robert Service writes of this beautiful place in his autobiography:

One early spring I stood on the heights of Miles Canyon, with all about me a magnificent panorama. I breathed deeply, taking the beauty of it right into me. Then suddenly the line popped into my head: I have gazed on naked grandeur where there's nothing else to gaze on. My mentor seemed to be at my ear again, prompting , whispering, and I went right on. Maybe the two -syllable rhyme helped me, for rhyme has always been a lure and a challenge. So again I hammered out a complete poem in the course of my walk. I entitled it The Call of the Wild. Its inspiration was the spring in my blood , and the wild scenery above the White Horse Rapids.

-Robert Service, Ploughman of the Moon

Click Here For The Call Of The Wild

I had brought a copy of Call of the Wild just for the occasion, so as just Karen listened, (she married me for better or Verse) I read that poem Robert had created here. Well, now it was on to Yukon Beringia Interpretive Center for an interesting tour of Yukon of Old. After getting the low down on Mammoths, Giant Beavers and such, as well as a fine exhibit on early civilization here we head back to the Robert Service Way. We go past the Robert Service Campground and stop long enough to snap a photo. I understand that this is a very nice place, how could you go wrong with that kind of a namesake?

Now we head down town, and on the way stop at the retired USS Klondike. We sign up for a tour and after viewing a very good video on river travel we have a in depth look into the workings of a Yukon steam powered paddle boat. This interesting blend of machinery and passenger accommodations make for a very informative hour. From here to Dawson it took on an average 36 hours, and many many cords of wood . Coming back upstream the trip could take 3 days. If in White Horse Don't miss this great attraction!

We stroll by the spot where the old Bank of Commerce where Robert Service was a teller. It is still a bank but it is now a modern affair. A worn plaque commemorates Service's connection with the spot.We walk down to the McBride Museum which is down from the old depot. This fine museum is a nice blend of natural and local history. The main exhibit space of course is dedicated to the gold rush. Samples of gold from all around the area are displayed and one can go from one spot to another and notice subtle differences between the precious yellow stuff. Outside a collection of artifacts are scattered, the main one being Sam McGee's Cabin. ***Every day the Cremation of Sam McGee is done by a docent. We were just in time to watch a demonstration of gold panning. I asked if the crowd would like a Service recital and so I launched into the Ballad of Salvation Bill which garnered a warm round of applause.

While we are on the Subject of the actual Sam McGee, Here is Service talking about its creation in his autobiography:

I did not write anything more for a month, and my second ballad was the result of an accident. One evening I was at a loose end, so I thought call on a girl friend. When I arrived at the house I found a party in progress. I would have backed out, but was pressed to join the festive band. As an uninvited guest I consented to nibble a nut. Peeved at my position, I was staring gloomily at a fat fellow across the table. He was a big mining man from Dawson and he scarcely acknowledged his introduction to a little bank clerk. Portly and important, he was smoking a big cigar with gilt band. Suddenly he said: I'll tell you a story Jack London never got." Then he spun a yarn of a man who cremated his pal. It had a surprise climax which occasioned much laughter. I did not join, for remember how a great excitement usurped me. Here was a perfect ballad subject. The fat man who ignored me went his way to bankruptcy, but he had pointed me the road to fortune.

A prey to feverish impatience, I excused myself and took my leave. It was one of those nights of brilliant moonlight that almost goad me to madness. I took the woodland trail, my mind seething with excitement and a strange ecstasy. As I started in: There are strange things don in the midnight sun, verse after verse developed with scarce a check. As I clinched my rhymes I tucked the finished stanza away in my head and tackled; the next. For six hours I tramped those silver glades, and when I rolled happily into bed my ballad was cinched. Next day, with scarcely any effort of memory I put it on paper. Word and rhyme came eagerly to heel. My moonlight improvisation was secure and, though I did not know it, "McGee was to be the keystone of my success.

-Robert Service, Ploughman of the Moon, 1945

The Yukon Archives which archives Service's material has a draft of this famous poem. From a wonderful biography by Tom MacKay, (a must read!!!) I found:

There are strange things done after half past one
By the men who search for gold,
the arctic histories have their eerie mysteries
that would make your feet go cold
The Aurora Borealis has seen where Montreal is,
But the queerest it ever did spot
Was the night on the periphery of Lake Mckiflery
I cremated Sam McKlot.

It is good thing Robert ran across Sam McGee's name in a bank ledger, McGee's fictional home was Tennessee, where would have McKlot inhaled from? The real Sam McGee was a copper mining engeneer from Ontario. His name lives on in one of Robert's most recited poems. After a pleasant couple of hours at the McBride Museum we are off to Dawson City.

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