Dawson City
A quite revolting ritual will ensure you fit into the wildest city in Canada, writes JENNIFER ENNION
“YOU can drink it fast or you can drink it slow, but your lips must touch this gnarly toe.”
With these words, the Sourtoe Captain of Downtown Hotel plonks a real, dehydrated human toe into a shot of Canadian Club. A table of rowdy pub patrons watch on intrigued.
I bring the glass to my lips, wince and swallow the golden whisky in one mouthful. The shrivelled, brown toe that’s just been licked by aforementioned rowdy patrons gets lodge in the bottom of the glass. I shake it free as the last drops of drink run down my throat and, as the rhyme goes, the toe kisses my lips.
The Canadian onlookers cheer as my throat burns. Mission accomplished. I’m now officially a member of Dawson City’s Sourtoe Cocktail Club — and receive a certificate to prove it — along with more than 100,000 locals and travellers from across the globe, all caught up in the magic — and craziness — of this Yukon frontier city.
The sourtoe cocktail is just the beginning. There are numerous reasons Dawson, around six hours north of Whitehorse, easily takes the title of Canada’s wildest city. First, locals don’t just drink cocktails “infused” with toes (often donated from patients requiring surgery or left as “gifts” in wills, in case you’re wondering). During the spring fundraising carnival of ThawDi-Gras, and at other events, you can join the dog testicle club by, you guessed it, consuming alcohol with an even more unsavoury ingredient. I’ll pass on that one.
Then there are the brothels, a remnant of
Dawson’s goldmining heyday when ladies of the night were highly regarded by the community of mostly men seeking fortune in the challenging environment.
The brothels were outlawed in the 1960s but at least one was saved and lovingly restored. It’s now Bombay Peggy’s, a popular boutique hotel where beds are covered in red and black velvet, and black and white photos of unnamed women grace the walls. It’s delightfully quirky.
Although the brothel business no longer exists, mining still does and in them near hills on the outskirts of town, miners continue to toil in the hope of finding gold nuggets, flakes and dust. Tourists to Dawson, a National Historic Site, can join goldmining tours (May-Sept.).
Mining remains the No.1 private industry in Yukon, followed by tourism, but in Dawson it doesn’t seem that way. “Dawson is a great little drinking town with a goldmining problem,” says Dany Jette, my Klondike Experience guide.
He’s joking but there’s truth to his words. There are 10 drinking holes in the core of this small city and they make for great entertainment, especially during the winter months when temperatures drop to below 40 and the wide, dirt streets are covered in snow.
The Pit, in the fairy floss pink Westminster Hotel, is one of the original pubs and has a big following.
The murals, amber lighting, mishmash of furniture and random paraphernalia (there’s a canoe behind the bar) reminds me of an eclectic Aussie Outback pub.
There is also Downtown Hotel, a must-visit thanks to its sourtoe traditions. It’s also a good spot to play pool and catch a game of ice-hockey on the TV with mates. It’s unmissable, looming large on the corner of two main streets, its red clapboard façade drawing attention from passers-by.
If you’re after somewhere with a touch of class, pull up a seat in Bombay Peggy’s bar, attached to the hotel. Reminiscent of a speakeasy, you can expect dark corners, low jazz and single malt scotch.
Despite locals’ fondness for libations, many people are attracted to Dawson due to its remote location and alternative lifestyle.
In West Dawson, a suburb across the Yukon River, locals live off-grid, and take pride in the fact they chop wood for indoor heating, use solar power, grow vegies, go without running water, and consume a small cabin. Talk about tiny homes.
If that’s not wild enough, every autumn they endure “freeze up”, when the river freezes over between late October and early November, separating locals from downtown. They’re essentially trapped and have to ride out a month or so with food they’ve stockpiled. The same, of course, happens when the river is ready to break, generally in late April.
Although there are no official tours of West Dawson, curious travellers can take a ferry across the river (May-Sept) and pitch a tent in Yukon River Campground, or they can drive over the ice bridge in winter to watch mushers competing in the infamous Yukon Quest, a 1600km sled-dog race between Whitehorse and Fairbanks, Alaska.
Speaking of the Quest, it’s one of the biggest annual events, and Dawson is a compulsory stop for competitors. Residents play a big role in making mushers feel welcome, and plenty have been known to race.
I catch up with Brian Wilmshurst from BLine Racing Kennels, home to 35 Alaskan huskies. Brian, who’s competed in six Quests, has a large property on the city limits and I join him on an off-season training run as part of a Klondike Experience tour.
His huskies are excited about pulling us down the street and across nearby fields while we sit atop a quad bike. Their enthusiasm is palpable.
Aside from dog sledding, Dawson locals are also mountain-bike, canoeing and hiking fanatics. Really, they’re up for anything that gets them outdoors, even in winter.
It’s not, however, just the people and pastimes that make Dawson the wildest city in Canada; the landscape is beyond impressive, and I’m not talking about the abandoned buildings slouching in the permafrost.
Surrounded by mountains and only 90 minutes from Tombstone Territorial Park, where wild blueberries and cranberries flourish across the tundra, one has to be hardy to live and, arguably, travel here.
Sure, you can hop a quick flight from Whitehorse, be transferred to a hotel and spend a weekend enjoying the bars and cafes.
But Dawson, ultimately, is a place for travellers who like to scratch beneath the surface; to learn about its tough and sordid history, mingle with the locals and, inevitably, join the Sourtoe Cocktail Club. The writer was a guest of Tourism Yukon and Destination Canada