Skagway is an odd narrow town sandwiched on three sides by tall mountains and penned in on the forth by the ocean. It is a port city where cruise ships arrive in the hundreds during the summer season. The town appears, at first, to look a lot like Dawson City, very quaint and beautiful, but it soon becomes obvious that it is Disneyfied. The buildings on its streets are little more than façades hiding one kitschy tourist shop after another. But there is a Skagway to discover, if you care to, and I had four and a half hours in which to do so. I took a walking tour with a park ranger, visited the Klondike Park museum, and strolled through this small community. At the end of the afternoon, the group met up again for one last taste of civilization, superb Thai food at the Starfire restaurant on 4th Avenue. Skagway is obviously more than meets the eye.
Month: July 2009
Fraser to Skagway on the Whitepass and Yukon Railroad
The Whitepass and Yukon Railroad spelled the end of the Chilkoot trail’s usefulness, providing an easy route into the Klondike. Today, the railroad is renowned the world over for its gorgeous vistas.
We boarded the WPYR in Fraser, British Columbia, and rode it all the way into Skagway, Alaska, 40 odd miles through some of the biggest and most beautiful country I’d seen so far.
A Chilkoot Teaser
Just to whet your appetites…
Cairn marking the Alaska-Canada border, summit of the Chilkoot Pass, 17th July, 2009:

(and me in front of it 😀 )
Main Street, Whitehorse
Since tonight’s Pina Colada was a bit, um, rummy, I decided to go for a stroll after dinner and found Main Street. Most shops were closed, but I found a bookstore and a gift shop still open. The bookstore closes at midnight (!) and the gift shop at 8. I didn’t find two shops with the same opening hours.
Walking down Main street made me very homesick for Dawson. There was no place to buy ice cream and I didn’t run into a single person I know. Oh, and the sidewalks are cement. I already miss the clatter of wooden boards underfoot.
If I had any doubt at the wisdom of choosing Dawson over Whitehorse this summer, the doubts are assuaged. I have yet to encounter anything in Whitehorse that would make me want to try life here for a spell other than the fact that you can get high speed internet in the boondocks.
When I return from the Chilkoot, I will try to do a few ‘touristy’ things to get a better feel for this city.
Sanchez Cantina, Whitehorse
Canada and the northern US are sorely lacking in good Mexican restaurants. Oh, I had some pretty decent Mexican food in Omak and in White Rock, but the last time I had a thoroughly satisfying Mexican meal was in Savannah back in the spring of 2007. When I noticed a sign for Sanchez Cantina, which claims to be the only authentic Mexican restaurant in the Yukon, I had to go just to see if I would be proven right or wrong about the state of comida Mexicana in Canada.
I ordered a chicken burrito with rice and beans and a pina colada.
The burrito was good; filled with vegetables and perfectly seasoned chicken. The rice was pretty bad, tossed with canned vegetables and topped with a fishy tasting pale tomato sauce. The beans were just that, beans, of the black variety. I like black beans well enough, but a little seasoning would have been nice. The plate also had four lone crispy tortilla chips that were very yummy dipped in the bean sauce. All in all, a ho hum meal.
The pina colada, however, was excellent, the best I’ve ever had. You could taste the pineapple, the coconut, and the rum. I wasn’t too sure at first if I liked the liberal sprinkling of cinnamon over the frothy concoction, but it didn’t take long to win me over since I’m a huge fan of cinnamon.
I wouldn’t go back to Sanchez Cantina, not even for a pina colada, because the service was horrendous. I might as well have been invisible once I received my food. No one ever came to see if I needed anything and after several minutes of trying to flag down a server so I could get the check, I ended up going to the cash and standing there for several minutes while the guy at the cash mixed drinks without even acknowledging my presence.
When I was was finally able to pay, I did something I’ve only done three times before in my life at a restaurant: I didn’t tip. I’m normally a very good tipper, 20% to 25% is common for me for good to exellent service while bad to okay service gets 15%. It’s so rare for me to tip poorly, much less not at all, that I actually remember when I haven’t: at the Day’s Inn restaurant in New Jersey where I stayed when I visited NYC in 1996, at the restaurant at the Smithsonian in DC in 1997, and at the Royal Oak (Ottawa U Campus) in Ottawa in 1999!
I cannot recommend Sanchez Cantina. My quest for good Canadian Mexican food continues. Darn.




























