I realized something important this past week-end. It was while we were enjoying our camping trip in Dyea (pronounced DIE-EE, good to know so you don't spent ten minutes embarrassing yourself in front of the customs agent at the US border). I was sitting in a camp chair on the Taiya river with my husband Rich writing in his journal beside me and my son Oscar merrily throwing sticks for our dog. It was one of those pure happy moments. It could have been in the movies as one of those slow motion happy montages about someone who just died or that touching scene just before a meteor hits the earth. It should have been a simple happy moment but there was a bittersweet element to it.

Oscar climbing a fallen tree on the bank of the Taiya river.

I should back up. If you've been reading this blog, you know how much I love the Yukon. I love the Yukon to the point where part of me thinks it's the obligation of the universe to keep me here. When I found out Rich had to go to Edmonton for four months for university, I've been giving the universe plenty of opportunities to do just that. I tried to get family to come out and help babysit Oscar during my crazy flight attendant hours, I hit up Air North for a 9-5 job in about five different departments (once even accosting the COO who was on a flight), I scoured YUWIN for other 9-5 job possibilities and I looked into getting an au pair or a nanny. My success rate has been approximately zero percent. It slowly began to dawn on me that with a three-year-old in daycare, a distinct lack of disposable cash and Richard's uni and bills to pay for, my pipe dream of a long and happy life in the Yukon is not likely. Hence my frostiness towards the universe lately.

So what should have been a pure happy moment was bittersweet because instead of enjoying the moment I was having, part of me was resenting the future moments I wouldn't have.

That's when I realized something important.

It was like the universe had enough of my self-indulgent mental whining and gave me a good invisible b**ch-slap.

Yes, the river was nice, and the mountains and the fresh air, but the happiness had less to do with the pretty scenery and more to do with the family I was with. I am one of those very lucky people who loves my husband, has a wonderful child and gets to be with them almost every day. We are in good health, we have a close and honest relationship and we laugh every day. Even my dog is great. She's not super bright and she could create a new dog with the amount of hair she sheds every day, but nice and gentle and great with Oscar.

Whether we are in the Yukon, or Edmonton or Timbuk Two, we will be together. That's what matters. Bitterness was replaced with gratefulness, the universe and I have mended fences and the rest of the trip was pure sweetness.

Skagway, Alaska

We stopped in Skagway for some halibut and ice cream on our way back to Whitehorse from Dyea.

Klondike-Highway

The south Klondike Highway between Whitehorse and Skagway is one of the most picturesque road trips I've even taken.

Oscar and Maggie

on the Taiya River.

The White Pass train

Nature's playground

Oscar didn't miss his toys back home as he explored the forests and rivers.

Our campsite

We stayed at the Klondike Gold Rush National Historic Park. The camping is free from September to May and the sites are nice and private. Ours had a little path to the Taiya River.

Our little temporary paradise

on the Taiya river with no one around.

Ozzie eating ice cream

I love how he eats it so delicately but it still ends up all over his chin.

Being touristy

When I worked in the photo lab on cruise ships I used to roll my eyes every time I printed this touristy picture. Who knew one day I would take it!

On July 19th, 2000 the Sun Princess docked in Skagway, Alaska. It was my first cruise on my first ship and Skagway was our first stop. I remember stepping off the gangway onto the dock. I had a disconcerting feeling that the cement dock was moving (it wasn't). Passengers were streaming all around me, making their way to tours and shopping. It seemed like I was the only one who didn't know what I was doing or where I was going. It was one of my loneliest days.

Yesterday I stepped on that very same dock with a different feeling entirely. I was with my husband and my son, watching Oscar see the ocean for the first time. It was February, and there was not a passenger in sight. A seal bobbed in the water, looking at us. We were alone, but not lonely. I have a peace and happiness in my life that 22-year-old me could not have foreseen.

My son, Oscar, seeing the ocean for the first time.

I was really excited to see Skagway again. It's one of the ports I'd visited the most during my time on working on cruise ships, and one of my favourite. I'd often go hiking up to Lower Dewey Lake with friends. We would picnic beside lake which could be so still the reflection was flawless. Sometimes we'd do a circuit around the lake. On top of the cliffs on the far side, if we were lucky we might see we an eagle flying beside us. It was one of the few ports where we could get a break from ship life.

Although many of my fellow crew members have been to Skagway, I don't think many have been there in the winter. Cruise ships start heading south around September.

Unlike Juneau where there is a tourist shopping area, and a separate local/crew shopping area, as far as I know, Skagway is just Skagway. I used to walk from the ship to the residential areas and wonder what they all did in the winter.

When we drove into Skagway it felt weird, like returning to a hometown after many years of being away. It looked almost exactly the same as I remembered it, only instead of crowds of people in the streets and shops, the streets were practically deserted.

Downtown Skagway, on a beautiful February day. Photo by Christa Galloway.

Rich was concerned about the 20 minute parking limit in Skagway yesterday (Feb 1). I told him not to worry.

The population of Skagway drops from 2,000 to 800 during the winter, and that's not factoring in almost a million people who come for the day on cruise ships.

Most of the shops were boarded up or had empty display cases in their windows. The tour company buses were all hibernating. We actually drove onto the cruise ship dock, noting our favourite restaurant, the Stowaway Cafe, had a new name, and our favourite coffee stand was still there, but closed.

There were some cafes and restaurants open, a couple shops, and of course, the liquor store. We went to The Sweet Tooth Cafe for lunch, took a drive to the abandoned town of Dyea, and headed home.

The Sweet Tooth Cafe, a familiar sight in the port of Skagway.

Oh yeah, the shocking secret, or rather, the mildly surprising fact about Skagway in winter... No snow. That's right. Far from the ice-encrusted ghost town with snow drifts in the streets of my imagination, it looked pretty much the same as it does in the spring at the beginning of the cruise season. There was even green grass on the lawns. Who knew?

Mothers Day camping trip to Dyea

A trip down memory lane