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I was off and running by 7:30 A.M. headed to Whitehorse, where I would take care of some shopping, refill all the gas cans, and get laundry done. I arrived at Wolf Creek Campground by late evening, where I always stay. Even this time of year it was far from full.

The trip carried me through Tesslin. Along this section of scenic highway wildlife is plentiful, and I saw my share of bears and buffaloes along the way. Smith Falls, and Watson Lakes Signpost Forest there are worth seeing, you can see earlier journals for pictures of the Signpost Forest as I have included them in all the previous issues and it has changed little. It does grow some each trip, but not noticeably since I come through so often. Watson Lake is also where the Cassiar Highway connects with the Alaska Highway, so I enquired as to the gas availability along the Cassiar. It was a major problem so I am fortunate I took the long way around.

Today I got going early. I was on the road by 7:30 A.M, and had made a decision overnight to take a new way into Tok Alaska. From information I had gleaned the Alaska Highway was under construction for several hundred miles, and the going was really slow from Whitehorse to the Alaska line, so I opted to go via Dawson City and chicken Alaska across the top of the world highway. Since I hadn't been that way it would be a new experience. The distance was about 500 miles, nearly the same as the Alaska Highway route, so money wise the cost would be negligible.

The first section of highway is not very exciting, it meanders through several old forest fire burns, each marked by a sign and it seems every 5 to 10 years it got hammered with a major fire. The countryside is mostly rolling hills and mountains but all are mostly scrub brush and a few large burnt snags. I would call it a day at Pally Crossing, a small Indian village on the banks of the Yukon River. The campground wasn't much, but the village supplied it for free.

I got going again pretty early and was in Dawson City by noon. I spent several hours admiring the old Architecture that had been restored to its glory days, and they have done a wonderful job. All of the building are redone in era colors and have been well done. Scattered around town and up Dawson Creek are still some active mines, but many more portions are simply tailings piles from turn of the century mining operations and are mostly just big eyesores to the environment.

To proceed any further, you have to take a ferry across the Yukon River. It is kind of an adventure as the current whips you down stream and the ferry powers its way back up stream to the landing.

I crossed the river near 5 P.M. headed for the American Border some 90 miles away. I had to arrive by 9 P.M. or I would have to wait until 8A.M. the next day, so time was of the essence. The drive is across the Top of the World Highway, and it is pretty true. It follows ridgelines across the top and the scenery was spectacular. The roads are mostly gravel with sections of asphalt but not very much of it and are quite crooked. You can only conservatively average about 25-30 miles per hour, but the trip is really worth the effort to make this little trip. I made it to the border with 12 minutes to spare, and was soon on my way to Chicken some 43 miles west and down off the mountaintops.

As the road winds its way down the mountains on its westward journey too Chicken it follows Chicken Creek. There too you will find remnants of old mining operations, the old tailings piles, an old dredge, a few hardy souls still panning the creek hoping to find their fortune in its gravel.

As I reached the bottom of the mountain, I found a forest service campground and called it quits for the night. It was nearing 11 P.M. and I was tired. I just settled for a sandwich for dinner and hit the sack. Chicken could just wait until tomorrow.

I got up and around late today. After breakfast and visiting with the campground host for a bit, I headed on to Chicken. It wasn't far, just 20 miles if that. I came dragging in around 1 P.M., gassed up from my cans and had a quick look around Chicken. Which took all of about 5 minutes, except for the original mining camp, which is being restored to its former self. There was a tour at 3 P.M., so I stuck around for that and took the tour. I was kind of tired anyway, and a break in the travel schedule was a welcome endeavor. To top off the day would be the first annual Chicken Stock Music Festival. It would start around 7 P.M. and go until whenever. Since I am not one to miss a good party, I just figured what's another day in Chicken anyway.

By the time the band got going, I think everyone was already drunk. It was a bluegrass band from Fairbanks. Not bad either. The crowd wasn't huge just afew hundred or so made up from the locals, miners, Canadians from Dawson City, and tourists who decided to camp in Chicken for the night, but to their chagrin it would be a sleepless night as the bandstand, an old army deuce-and-a half was the bandstand set up adjacent to the campground. Most attended, as complaining would be a futile effort, since the sponsors of the event owned the campground, and they were kind enough to warn the campers when they checked in.

The band	The tourists	The Sponsor
A Local	The village idiots	Who knows but a neat hat
As the night wore on activities increased	and got wilder	Dawn or sunset. who cares
and wilder	and higher	and drunker
Local Miner partakes	and the party continues until	The base player got totaled

The saloon is a trip, beer is moderately priced, but it has one quirk, when everyone gets trashed enough, any unsuspecting female is almost required to donate their panties for the amusement of all. The panties are loaded into a special canon and blown to smithereens with gunpowder. The remains are thumb tacked to the ceiling with the signed dollar bills. It is funny to watch. This night there were no less than twenty pairs of panties shredded .

I finally gave up at dawn, I think, and made it to my camper in the parking lot. Today is going to suck. I don't think if I had an IV of orange juice would I recover enough to drive.

Today I would end my journey. I was up and gone by 6 A.M stopped for breakfast in Tok, and was in Wasilla by 10 P.M. I set up camp at the Finger Lakes campground just up the road from Maurice Baileys. Tomorrow I would pick up my mail, visit for a bit, run up and see Chuck Moore, and wash the truck.

Misc. tolls, cigarettes to ship to Alaska, gun permits, computer repair, oil changes, radio, propane, internet access, Park pass, showers, bar bills, etc etc. 775