The Chilkoot Trail, Dyea/Skagway, South East Alaska

I was now in my senior year at the University of Alaska Anchorage. Already tired of winter, my closest college friend and I began dreaming up post-graduation summer backpacking possibilities. Cassie, the daughter of an educator and anthropologist, was born in Nome, lived in Bethel for several years, and finished high school in Juneau. Up the Marine Highway from Juneau, just outside of Skagway, is the start of a historically famous trail - the Chilkoot, which Cassie was enthusiastic to show me. 

The Chilkoot trail was charted during the Klondike Gold Rush, over a century before. It served as the footpath into Canada to the Yukon and British Columbia, then on to Dawson City and beyond, where dreamers risked everything to strike it rich. Nowadays, panning for gold has lost its luster, but hikers still travel the thirty-plus miles to Bennett Lake, where they catch the train back into the U.S. Perhaps the most famous aspect of the trail is the Golden Staircase, about half-way in, which is featured on the Disney classic, White Fang. In winter, the steep climb was chiseled into steps to ease the way for hikers burdened with, literally, tons of gear required by rangers to enter into Canada. 

We left the gold mining gear at home and traveled “light” with fifty-pound packs. This year I was excited to try out my very own REI women’s excursion pack, a college graduation present from my parents. This was also my first venture into the woods outside of my Women Afoot hiking clan. The group consisted of my best friend, her mom and sister, her two cousins, and a boyfriend she’d picked up toward the end of the school year. They’re now married, so I guess you could say they found their own treasure in the trail together. 

Our journey began days before we hit the trail itself, as Cassie’s boyfriend, Brian, and I drove sixteen hours straight from Anchorage to Skagway, through west Canada. We then took the Fast Ferry south to Juneau where we met up with Cassie and her family, and hiked Juneau’s steep Mount Roberts, a nice precursor to the trip. After celebrating the fourth of July on the docks of the capital city, we headed north and stayed in a bunk house in Skagway. In our downtime, we perused the main strip of fake store fronts, touristy t-shirt shops, jewelry stores catering to the cruise ships, and walking tours hosted by gals in can-can dresses. 

Early on day one of our hike, we hooked up with the local hiker taxi system (a bearded driver with a rusty yellow van that barely started). Once he left us at the trailhead, we were on our own. The trail started off with a few miles of steep switchbacks into the rainforest eco-system of the southeast. It was a good warm-up for the muscles, not to mention a stunning trek over cascading streams and bogs of low-growing wildflowers. 

The camp sites along the trail are nicely maintained with tent platforms, outhouses, and bear boxes for food. For users of the winter cabins, firewood is provided on the U.S. side and toilet paper provided on the Canadian end of the trail. This was fortunate for us, as I clumsily dropped an entire role of toilet paper into the outhouse on our first night out. 

I thoroughly enjoyed the variations in the trail menu that comes with a different group of hikers. Apparently, outfitters sell tubes for easy packing of luxuries like peanut butter, jelly, and my personal favorite, Nutella! We also shared a long log of summer sausage, with cheese and crackers. These were all heavier foods, so we planned accordingly and ate them first. Breakfast was simple: instant oatmeal packages, which can be eaten by carefully pouring hot water into the packages themselves, saving on sticky dishes to wash. We also shared basic trail commodities like homemade gorp and granola bars. For dinner we explored the varieties of Mountain House, which I love and enthusiastically recommend. They're not always cheap, but they're worth it for a hassle-free dinner after sliding into camp. 


Day two was much the same as the first, as we continued to climb higher into the mountains. Weather was chilly and damp, if not raining. Suspension bridges made for easy river crossings. We enjoyed searching for historic artifacts along the trail, like old tools, abandoned iron stoves, and at one point, an entire steam engine tucked away in the woods. 

Day three was the real doozy, during which we hiked the Golden Staircase. The climb to the bottom of the staircase is difficult in itself, with pelting rain and snow, water running down the trail, making it nearly impossible to stay dry. Temperatures dropped drastically by noon as we reach the base of the steepest part of the climb. We took a break to switch into dry gear before ascending the steep rock face. 

As we climbed, or crawled, up the golden staircase (which is not actually carved into stair steps any longer...), Cassie told of her first assent in which it was so sunny and warm that she literally had sun blisters when she reached the top. We were not so lucky. The top was especially difficult, with sheets of ice hindering our grip, footing and balance with our packs. As we pulled ourselves over the top shelf onto the Canadian side of the trail, we met a newlywed Canadian couple ascending at the same time. The wife was not accustom to hiking and was certain she would die on the steep rock face. She was ecstatic to see us again as we warmed up together in the unheated cabin at the top of the climb. While we were all exhausted, we were far from done for the day. We had several more miles to go over ice fields to lower elevations. We finally made it to the appropriately named Happy Camp several hours later. Happy Camp was our first night in Canada. We were impressed to find sturdy tent platforms and clean outhouses, not to mention dryer weather and stunning views. This was the busiest camp site on the trail and we quickly made friends with our neighbors. 

After spending Day 3 in rain, fog, ice, and snow, Day 4 felt significantly warmer than it really was. Glad to be out of the rain, we enjoyed a dry hike in long-sleeved shirts as we circumnavigated one of many large, stunningly pristine lakes. We passed a few Canadian rangers hiking the trail, all of whom were very friendly. We passed the skeleton of an old miner's canoe and a decaying pair of women's boots left behind a century ago. 

We spent our fourth night by a lake, in which Cassie's crazy cousin decided to go for a swim. Even in July, the glacier-fed water proved too cold to "enjoy" for long. After he dried off and we set up our tents, we shared our last dinner together on the trail.

In retrospect, I think this was the hardest hike I'd done to date. We covered most of the 30-plus miles in four days, climbed the highest peak I'd ever scaled with a pack, walked on snow fields in July, all the while keeping our passports securely dry inside our packs for re-entry to the U.S. 

On day-5 we all managed a second wind of energy and practically ran to Bennett Lake. There, we waited for the train to arrive with tourists from Skagway. Upon their arrival, the train depot opened for lunch. Hikers had to use the back entrance so as not to disturb the ambiance for the other visitors... After several hardy bowls of beef stew and handfuls of cornbread, we hugged the train, found our seats and slept most of the journey back to Skagway. After we all showered and found the only clean clothes we had left, we went for what proved to be the best burger and fries of my life. This always seems to be the case after a few days on the trail. 

The Chilkoot is an experience I'd recommend to anyone who is up for a bit of a challenge. It may be a bit cold and steep in some places, but the views, variation in terrain, and remnants of history along the trail make it one of the most fascinating, rewarding, and enjoyable trails I've ever hiked.