The Golden Stairs

This phrase, "The Golden Stairs" refers to a passage into the Yukon Territory of Canada, and the 'Gold Rush' that happenned there of 1897/98. It is a mountain pass that culminates from the ending of 'the inner passage' or waterway from Seattle, going around British Columbia, into the territory of the Yukon River where Gold was found in the late 1800's and the ensuing mass of people whom then trekked there in search of fortune and adventure. I say adventure because that is often all they came away with after traversing the summit into Canada, over the steep mountain face that often yeilded 'gold' to the 'Stampeders' who carved a staircase in the snow, and carried the needed goods for profit, over the granite boulders one would find there in the summer; the place where most person's could not carry much weight any longer, especially going upwards after the long trail to that point on what is now usually a '3 day hike' for avid camper types from around the world. I remember the nature scenery and the people fondly from my recent visit, and I made it alone and intact to 'Caribou Crossing', Yukon: Canada; though i was not allowed to continue toward Fairbanks AK, Anchorage AK, and to my ultimate destinations in Asia. Perhaps my note here pertains to modern fascism and the obvious problems denoted by terrible and unexplained disasters and deaths/ murders and deranged killers as we see in the current news sources. It pertains to some people 'holding others down' while they take advantage and even them encarcerating and poisoning innocent others; not to mention forcing some and some 'loved-ones' into sexual servitude. It is clear that some entities such as some of the Canadian border patrol and some American policemen are a harbinger in some such frustrations.

I knew it was a long way to Fairbanks and to Anchorage, from Seattle, and that i would be into completely uncharted adventure, for modern times, if i made it out on a boat going West from Anchorage and Kodiak. Could you imagine gaining passage on an Asian shipping vessel and comming by water into Tokyo or Sapporro, or to Shanghai; a very international city, actually. The idea for me was to save money on costs and to get over there somehow, to that area where i had freinds in communication. I had been to Seoul, but by air and some professional hosts. To be on the ground over there wherever a boat might land, among native and ordinary Asians, like the type that rarely see an American, would be a great adventure and one I enjoyed in the Southern provinces of the Philipines; in Spring of 2011.

My boat trip up thru the inner passage of Alaska went fine and i knew I had some support of people who could see my situation even more clearly than i myself, though the later part or trails and travel would require much endurance and they wouldn't be able to assist me in that part. There is some success in simply having tried, even with some danger.

My map was from the US Forest service, showing the 'Tongas' and someone had circled 'Haines junction' and Anchorage and i knew they had done it to show me my way, that i must go. The options for that left choices and always in hind-sight the other might have been better. I chose and went through Scagway, a charming old town with some nice churches and quite interesting bars, restaurants and theatres though we all knew that Winter would be Much different. The town had one gas station and one grocery store, and a very good internet cafe.

The trail leaving there, out of an ancient place on the tidal flatts called Dyea, was steep and rugged at first though it flattenned out and was wonderfully flat and scenic for the days walk (on what for most people is a '3 day hike' on the 'Chilkoot Trail' or Klondike pass). Then, after passing up the first obvious camp-site with rustic amenities, after a good long day's hike (done all starting after 4 pm and continued 'under the midnight sun', i came right into a camp-sight complete with a forest service shelter, and a lone stranger was in a tent on the far side. To my utter surprise someone then messed with me in my space there in the middle of the night and purposely left clues they had been there without my knowing. Some people were trying to frustrate me and generally to ruin my success for the endeavor. My walk for the next day started at dawn and already there was a stranger learking about, the place was called 'pleasant camp' and was near the remnance called 'canyon city'. There had been 'tent cities' all through the vally at the turn of the previous century.

The views of the river and lakes was just awe inspiring; like most people from the south would never know that is up there, all green and blue and Deep. The trail was often intersected with amazing gusher waterfalls comming down the mountain from the visible 'glacier' ice above. Often the hiker must go through a waterfall and then up near the summit must cross 'fields' of ice. One can see deep crevaces in the ice and any hiker might slip and fall down with the threat of gravity looming. It was a joy to be there, even in sandals and yet i was sick, deep inside, having been poisoned by someone the night before. At times my legs cramped like never before in life. I knew I was in danger though i knew i would not turn back. To be going up the wall that is the topic of many paintings and drawings in the area, the granite boulder wall that i then learned is often called 'the Golden Stairs', is certainly historicly significant. At that point, on July 13 of 2011, i often had to stop and rest just to keep going.

To stop and look around, from a boulder on the mountain face, was like being way up in the sky on a teeter totter. Twas best to just look at the trail though there wasn't any specific footpath; only the general direction, up, up, up. This place is remote and there aren't many other people out there at all. Roads across the mountains have since been built over a different juncture near; White Pass they call it. This one is called 'The Chilkoot Trail' and has been ever since the 1890's. Comming over the top of the summit of the pass means Canada. Now from the jurisdiction of the Alaska Park Rangers, visible on the lower portions of the American side of the trail, one can now see Canadian Flags and cabins, still very few people and then after trekking a ways down the other side, over ice fields and waterfalls; to Happy Camp. At 'Happy Camp' i met people from Switzerland and Germany and of course Canada. They gave me food.

The fog lifted slowly from up there the next morning. A female Ranger came through as i went out the other way. The formal trail ends at 'Lake Bennett', an amazing sight to be sure. And then the local train takes em out to 'Carcross' and WhiteHorse; Yukon. I had hiked almost to Carcross and was up the next morning when the Mountie found me. I didn't need him though it was cold and wet that day, there. It was the work of the mafia that he came to find me; to send me back toward the persecution and the poisoners and man those people aren't simply mean but are after money and are seemingly demon posessed, like of witchcraft and sorcery and i ain't gonna play it. The trouble is not caused by any majority or any specific population, anywhere, only by a faction of a few fascists that the others are afraid to correct. What is it that causes all the 'mad bombers' and crazy stories we hear about and cannot understand? Why would a normal person be stopped from travelling where he wanted to go? Did they battle against witch-craft?

What character flaw is fascism and what can the promoters of 'world peace' and personal sanity do to help and cure the sick materialist poisoners; such as the poisoners that are killing me?