Anyway, we joined many others for some sourdough pancakes made with a 100 year old recipe. They were soooo good I had to have seconds. They were as thin as crepes and with real Birch syrup, which is the favourite up here, a wonderful treat.
We moved the truck down to Front St, where the parade would come along. We walked the shops for one last time, then I went to the internet cafe to try their wifi signal. Well ten minutes of that caused extreme stress so I packed it up and met Bev back at the truck. There were crafts and a wonderful farmers market on the park along the river. It was a beautiful sunny day and it was fun to walk around and talk to the folks there. Bev picked up a good variety of the fresh vegetables, grown 15km away, then stood in line to pay for half an hour. They sure love there saturday market.
We stopped to talk to a couple, maybe early 30s, who had built a weaving loom from one inch tree branches. She showed us how it would have been used in Greenland a thousand years ago. If it had been in the 60s, they would have been Hippies for sure, maybe not the happy stuff though. I asked if they were from Dawson and she said no we live 40 miles down the river, they have borrowed a trappers cabin. They had no real plans, they had come from Minnisota and fell in love with Dawson and stayed. They had been a Botonist and a Biologist. When their money runs they may have to get some kind of work in Dawson, but they will stay.
So many times since we arrived in the Yukon we asked people where they were from, and everyone is from somewhere else, we came and loved it and stayed. A very common theme.
We heard the parade coming along Front St, so like all the other truckies, we dropped the tailgate and sat up with Cassie and enjoyed the parade. Out here in the Wild West, we fit right in with our truck.
Later that evening we enjoyed a Bison burger at the Eldorado Hotel. It had a very unique tast, certainly not like beef as I would has expected. Then we decided to accept the mornings invitation to come to the Anglican evening church service. Just before 7pm we arrived, no problem finding a place to park. We made our way to the front door and slowley pushed it open. We peered inside to find one man sitting there, who immediately jumped up and welcomed us in. I think he was afraid we would leave. Then, what looked like a very old man stepped from behind us, he was a retired priest who was filling in until the new one came. I am always concerned in a strange church that I will sit in someones pew. The old priest remarked, none of them have names on so help yourself. When the service started we were a total of six; the Priest and his wife, Betty the lay minister, Chris, a local guide complete with a big bushy beard and Bev and I. That's ok.
There was lots of music, from the 1800s of course, and the Priest read the two longest readings I have ever heard. He was reading very slowly, but his glasses would slowly slip down his nose, then he couldn't see at all, so he would push them back up, contine reading slowly and down would slide the glasses. Repeated many times. There were many thees and thous, but they were so pleased we had come. There was not a sermon, but the Priest wife told about the various hospitals Dawson had had since the 1890s which was very interesting.
After the service we were invited to tea and, yes cookies made with a 100 year old recipe. We could have listened for hours as they told stories of years gone by. The Priest had been sent to Inuvik in 1956 when the Eskimos were still living in tents. His wife was also sent to the far north and they met and married up there. He explained to us why he read slowly, he had just been diagnosed as having Parkinsons; he is 78. I thought it was wonderful that he was still active and able to carry on and I told him.
Well finally it was time to head back to Cassie and call it a night and a great last day in Dawsom City. What an interesting place full of interesting people, we have loved our stay here.
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