Fri 2nd May 2003, Burwash Landing to Tok

The bed was really comfy and felt good in the crisp clean sheets.  I slept like a babe but woke up with the slight cough that I went to bed with last night – due to the dust I suspect.  Breakfast was in a friendly atmosphere although I kept to my own table this time.  Everyone seemed to sit at their own tables and talk at a distance.  Odd, but they included me in the conversations that bounced around the room so that was fine by me.  I guess that was why Horace looked a little startled when I asked to join him - I guess it’s just not done that way here.
 
By this time I noticed that a lot of the furnishings still had plastic on them from new and the back room was being opened and prepared having been shut up for the winter.  Horace looks after the place in the winter when the owners go south and it had only just been re-opened.  I had arrived before everything had been got up together.  I collared Horace to go over a few unfamiliar controls in the car after breakfast and he cleared up a few puzzles for me like I couldn’t find how to put the handbrake on!  The car seemed firm enough after I stopped but that is apparently due to the automatic transmission.  The ‘handbrake’ is actually applied by foot and released by hand.  Who thought that one up?
 
Another place I shall call into on the way back if I can.

Before leaving they all insisted I visit the museum.  It was officially closed but the guy who was getting it ready for the summer had finished breakfast the same time as me and was on his way to start work for the day.  He let me in and I spent a very enjoyable half hour going round.  Wildlife and First Nation stuff and just the right level of information for me (too much and I start to glaze over).

Did you know? (historically) …

There are two clans in the area, the Crow and the Wolf.  Lineage is through the female line and they can’t marry inside the clan.  Crow must marry Wolf and Wolf must marry Crow.  When a girl reaches puberty she is taken to a Puberty Hut where she stays for anything from 1 to 12 months beading, making clothes and sundry other life skills.  She must wear headgear that comes way forward of her face and must not look at or be seen by a male in all that time.  Nor must she allow water to touch her teeth and must drink through a hollow tube, usually a swan’s bone.  Husbands are chosen for their skills and can be required to live with the girls’ clan/family for a year of so before their marriage, presumably to prove their skills and ensure they complement the skills of others in the family.  Each clan’s survival depended on the skills of its members and a full mix was required.

Thank goodness I’m a 21^st Century Englishwoman.

Actually – perhaps they had the right of it.  Perhaps we could apply that these days eg in immigration and even with people already In the UK.  In order for society to survive everyone has to contribute and if they don’t they can’t be part of society with its privileges otherwise society would fall apart and there wouldn’t be a society to grant privileges!  A little tortuous but I know what I mean, and a little harsh maybe but food for thought!  After all, the only ‘rights’ anyone has in this life are those that society is willing, and more importantly – is able, to let them have.

I enjoyed being the only person in the Museum, I could look at everything in peace and take it in properly.  I was more than happy to pay or at lest make a contribution but I wasn’t allowed – good advertising he said.  Certainly gets my vote.

It wasn’t long before I was on my way and enjoying the serenity and freedom of the road.  The vast beauty of the country is starting to work its way into my soul and I haven’t felt so much at peace with myself in a long, long time.

Stopped at Buckshot Betty’s in Beaver Creek for lunch.  Quiet bunch of customers but when they left I had a few laughs with Betty.  My salad was good but you should have seen what the others were eating, looked great, and so much of it.  One person had a truly enormous burger and masses of curly fries.  Sadly the coffee was lousy but you can’t have everything!

On the way up to the border I came across a herd of wild horses, which was a huge thrill for someone who was horse-mad as a kid.  I stopped and watched them for a while.

Then it was time for the border crossing into Alaska.  I managed to go wrong right away.  There was no-one else there when I arrived and frankly it wasn’t clear where to go – honest!  I pulled over to the right and after a few moments a guard came out of the building with an amused but rather exasperated expression on his face.  He rather pointedly asked if I was delivering goods? – I was in the wrong lane – ho ho!  He was very nice really once you got beyond the official gruffness.  He directed me to park and come in the building to complete some paperwork.  It was pretty painless although when it came to the point of paying the us$6 entry fee he asked if I wasn’t going to complain like my other countrymen?  As it happened I’d been warned by George but even so it wouldn’t have occurred to me to complain; it’s their country and they can do what they like.  I was a bit embarrassed to think my countrymen had been so rude.

After that it was a long gradual climb up into the mountains. At one point I stopped and stood.  I hadn’t seen anyone for an hour, the air was cold and crisp, the only sounds were the wind and occasional birdsong; the only movement was the swaying in the trees.  Glorious, so I got out and just stood a while.  I kept stopping at various places, although not necessarily ones I wanted to stop at.  As I said, you’re not allowed to stop just anywhere.  I’m not sure why, I must ask.  The US has a very different idea of ‘scenic points’ than I have.  I really feel that to have a good chance at a photo you need a clear view and those trees planted, presumably as a windbreak, are more hindrance than help!

Then came Tok.  Apart from being at a crossroads I can’t see any reason why anyone would go there for its own sake.  Its sole purpose seems to be for the convenience of people passing from one place to another.  It’s unattractive, on a boring flat plain and I couldn’t find anything of interest.  Of course, I could have been looking in the wrong places and it could be keeping its light very well hidden under a bushel.  Maybe it has hidden talents?  I did look but none sprang up and introduced themselves.  

Young’s Motel is just what I expected and was hoping I would find while I was here.  One of those places you see in American films and television programmes where people like Mulder and Scully stay to complete an assignment; or the couple on the run from The Terminator would stay in, but cleaner.  The rooms are in a block set apart from the restaurant so there’s just a short walk after you’ve eaten.  Good, basic and clean; the people polite but distant.  Wonderful and rather thrilling really!  Bet Mulder and Scully never got such good food as in Fast Eddy’s though.  I’m a little wary of portions now so I carefully ordered the small rib-eye steak (the special, and came as small, medium or large).  I received a massive steak twice the size of one I would eat at home.  Don’t get the impression I’m complaining – I’m not.  But I couldn’t finish it!

Not quite so tired tonight so watched a little telly before turning in.