Thursday, September 1, 2022

BWL Publishing Inc. - New Releases September 2022

CLICK THE BOOK COVERS FOR AUTHORS' BWL PAGES AND PURCHASE LINKS

When a local rancher’s body is discovered in Tuzigoot National Monument, Doug and Jill Fletcher are dispatched to investigate the suspicious death. Horseshoe prints where the body was found point the investigation toward the dozens of local ranches and trail ride companies.

The clues lead the Fletchers into Cottonwood, a nearby tourist town with a blossoming wine tasting industry. It quickly becomes apparent that the victim was a bed-hopping cowboy, who has left behind a string of scorned women and angry husbands.

While riding along the Verde River in search of clues, Doug and Jill are befriended by Gunner, a young cowboy who’d been injured in a rodeo accident. Socially inept and somewhat slow, Gunner sees things that others overlook. His daily rides around Tuzigoot made him a reluctant witness to much of what happened following the murder.

Despite slowly developing confidence in his horsemanship, Doug is forced to ride “Lightning” when their prime suspect flees on horseback. He and Lightning follow, as Jill gallops off in pursuit of their murder suspect. The chase turns into a scene from a Wild West movie when the fleeing cowboy fires his six-shooter at his pursuers.


Wednesday, August 31, 2022

Writing Cars by Priscilla Brown

 

 

 

 
 
 
Callum, the subject of the 'hot ticket', lusts after both Olivia's red sports car and its stunning owner.
 Will she ever let him drive this magnificent piece of engineering? 


In my real life, I drive small elderly reliable car. In my writing life, I like to give my characters appropriate - or not - vehicles for their needs and lifestyles.  As an author of contemporary romance, I am always looking out for potential character and situation miscellanies. 
 
Yesterday, in a wet, windy and busy shopping centre car park with the indoor levels full of weather escapees, I had to park outside on the top level. This is an area where whoever designed it probably never 'park-tested' it, since the spaces white-lined between them appear to me to be suitable only for tricycles. As I waited in the car for my passenger to finish shopping, I scanned the nearby rows of 'shop mobiles'. In one, a shopper piled so may large bags onto the passenger seat that one fell out and spilled its contents, revealing the purchaser's choice of several pink underwear items. I was sorry for her that these pretty things acquired a damp and grubby surface. Her shopping now safely in her car, she drove away, its place immediately taken by a small truck. Two men, in shorts and t-shirts in spite of the weather, strode into the shopping area. They returned in minutes, carrying large coffee mugs. Reversing out, the driver had one hand on the wheel and the other holding his coffee to his mouth. Me, I can find  trouble reversing from a tight spot using both hands. And who knows, one day this guy may find a place in a story.

Some years ago, a story opportunity drove into the car park of a cafe in a small country town. As I dawdled over coffee and cake on the sunny veranda, I watched a blonde woman park a seriously impressive scarlet sports car, its top down.  She and her car deserved to appear in a romance, and she became  Olivia in Hot Ticket. 

A casual glance at an an advertisement in a road travel magazine sparked the idea of introducing a female car mechanic. Billie, who is better at fixing cars than at fixing her love life,  takes her place in Finding Billie   http://books2read..com/Finding-Billie

 As a writer who is otherwise not particularly interested in cars as long as mine takes me where I want to go, I do enjoy research matching vehicles to personalities. 

To the drivers among you, may you always find the perfect parking spot.

Love, Priscilla




https://bwlpublishing.ca

https://priscillabrownauthor.com



 


 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday, August 30, 2022

Tate's Little Slice of Heaven by Eden Monroe

 


Visit Eden Monroe's BWL Author Page for book details and purchase information

There’s probably no place closer to my heart than my grandparents’ farm and the countless hours I spent there as a child. My memories of that idyllic time often find their way into my storytelling, but perhaps none so much as in my latest book, Sidelined. It was in the nearby village of Cambridge-Narrows, not far from that farm, that Tate McQuaid of Sidelined returned to realize his dream of starting the Willow Wind Ranch.

Both the village and my grandparents’ farm are located on the shores of the Washademoak Lake. It’s not a true lake at all as it turns out, rather just a widening of the Caanan River, but beautiful nonetheless. True blue, dyed-in-the-wool country folks, my grandfather was a cavalry horseman during the First World War. My grandmother was a British home child who came to Canada at the age of nine and was taken in by the Akerley family of The Narrows (Cambridge and The Narrows amalgamated in 1966). The only girl in the household, she had six older brothers who adored her.

One of those brothers was Walter Akerley who, despite losing part of one leg while still a youngster (stepped on rusty horseshoe nail) he went on to live a full and productive life, all one hundred six and a half years worth. It was Walter who ran the general store mentioned as Bennett’s General Store in Sidelined.

Writing about the village and the farm was a heartwarming experience, a homecoming for me as well as for Tate because that’s where he’d spent much of his youth on his Uncle Arthur’s farm, which was really the farm of my childhood.

So Tate’s love for this place, is mine too, a wonderful full-circle moment.

A rodeo star, Tate has come back from the west to raise paint horses; to see the pastures on his ranch – lush and green - filled with handsome paints grazing peacefully under a warm summer sun, the scent of clover in the fresh clean air. It’s his own slice of heaven. Not much wonder the village calls itself the best kept secret in Canada. I’ll tell you, it doesn’t get much better than early mornings on the Washademoak, and I’ve seen a fair share of the world beyond that gentle valley.

Nevertheless Tate’s return to New Brunswick was bittersweet, because he’d chosen his own path in life much to the chagrin of his disapproving parents. They’d had a more cerebral career in mind for their only child than being a bull rider:

“The tension was palpable and his father’s arms were still folded as he continued to watch his son. ‘You say you’re back in New Brunswick for good, so where do you plan to stay, because if you think….’

Tate was one step ahead of him, holding up his hand. ‘If that was an invitation, Dad, I’m going to have to turn you down,’ he said tightly. ‘There’s a big spread up on the Washademoak, not far from where Uncle Arthur used to live near Cambridge-Narrows. The Willow Wind Ranch has three hundred glorious acres, barns, home to some of the finest paint horses in Eastern Canada. That’s where I’ll be.’

His father sighed. ‘At least you found a job, that’s something I suppose. When do you start?’

Tate shook his head, meeting his father’s eyes and holding his gaze. ‘I guess you could say right away. I’ll be working around the clock because I bought the place and will be naming it as soon as it’s up and running. It’s my dream to make it a premiere paint breeding facility, and I’ll realize that dream too, whether you believe in me or not. I’m not just some empty-headed cowpoke without enough sense to get in out of the sun, I’m a businessman and a retired athlete. I have made a success of my life so far, just not on your terms.’ “



When I finished writing Sidelined I decided to take a leisurely drive through the village, Tate so real to me now I half expected to meet him at the general store a short distance down the road when I stopped for a fill up. A little further along I pulled over for a closer look at the property I’d chosen for Tate’s fictitious horse ranch and imagined, just for a moment, that it was not just a story.  He lives only in my imagination of course, but on this cloudless summer day, crickets chirring in the heavy summer heat, I can almost see him walking up from the barn. He’s wearing a straw cowboy hat, stripped to the waist and tanned a deep brown. He stops and looks around, likely feeling as I do that there’s no place on earth he’d rather be. I see the lake just beyond, shimmering sapphire blue, the pastures stretching out before my eyes, and yes, Paint horses grazing contentedly. And then the moment passes and I move on, smiling as I glance back at the empty yard and fields. But still, it was a very good day to be in Cambridge-Narrows.

Monday, August 29, 2022

The Fall of the House of York


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Amazon's kindle version:

http://amzn.to/2nEVWbC

Reviewers say:

"Juliet Waldron's grasp of time and period history is superb and detailed. Her characters were well developed and sympathetic."

"One of the better Richard III books..."


Crest and Motto of Richard III

On a sunny late summer morning in August, 1485, near Leicester, two armies faced one another. The King of England, Richard III, arose at dawn. Tradition, and Shakespeare, claim that he had had a bad night, although this can never be known now, 537 years later.  The King often traveled with his own bed. One night earlier, he had slept in his royal bed, for he had brought it along with his baggage train from Nottingham Castle. Perhaps too large and bulky to be used in a battlefield tent, the royal bed had been left behind at an Inn in Leicester.  Richard was known as a man who "slept ill in strange beds" and so preferred to maintain regularity in his sleeping arrangements.

Chaplains probably said Mass for the King on that fatal morning, as this too was standard practice on Medieval Battlefields, before he broke his fast with watered wine and bread. His esquires would have begun to armor him. His open crown, set with jewels, was set upon his helm, and then, mounted upon his favorite white charger, Whyte Syrie,* he began to direct the disposition of his army. 

According to John Ashdown-Hill, Historian and member of the Royal Historical Society: ..."When John de Vere, one of Henry Tudors most experienced commanders, saw the royal army advancing to oppose them, he swiftly ordered his men to hold back and maintain close contact with their standard bearers. In consequence the rebel advance ...ground to a halt..." This manuever drew the rebel forces into close formation, with the French mercenary pikemen held in reserve. Ashdown-Hill speculates on why, at this point, the sight of his hated distant cousin sent him charging to destruction. 

"Perhaps out of bravado, or from a sense of noblesse oblige, or possibly because he was suffering from a fever and not in full possession of his faculties, Richard called his men around him and then set off with them at a gallop to settle Henry's fate once and for all." 

http://amzn.to/2nEVWbC

The Amazon Kindle version

 Ashdown-Hill (The Last Days of Richard III) speculates on why, at this point, the sight of his cousin sent the king charging to destruction. (Certainly, Richard did not know what Henry looked like, but he would have seen his standard and known he surely stood nearby.) 

"Perhaps out of bravado, or from a sense of noblesse oblige, or possibly because he was suffering from a fever and not in full possession of his facaulties, Richard called his men around him and then set off with them at a gallop to settle Henry's fate once and for all."  

It was a risky move. In chess, this would be the same as sending one's king across the board to directly attack the rival king. 

Richard's legendary charge came near to succeeding. Richard himself slew Tudor's imposing standard bearer, William Brandon, but this is the moment when the wily foreign mercenaries Henry had brought with him drew together in a phalanx, protecting Henry and keeping him out of harm's way. Richard's cavalry hurled themselves into the pike wall so created. Many, including Richard, were unhorsed. At the same time, the remainder of the King's cavalry came crashing in behind. The  Yorkist army was now in dissarray.   

John de Vere and Lord Stanley, both still hanging back--de Vere because he was an experienced soldier, Stanley, waiting to see which way the battle would go--now seized their opportunity. Stanley's men fell upon the milling mass of the royal cavalry. They caught the King on foot and he was soon overwhelmed and slain by a pack of enemy soldiers. 

Richard's bravery has never been questioned, even by the Tudor chroniclers. 

"King Richard was slain, fighting manfully in the midst of his enemies." - The Croyland Chronicle.

When Richard fell, de Vere wheeled and attacked the Duke of Norfolk. During the initial clash, Norfolk lost his helmet and caught an arrow in the eye. The Yorkist side had now lost both captains. The leaderless army began to collapse. 

Michael Jones, whose 2016 military history, Bosworth, 1485, believes that Richard's charge, while a throw of the dice, was in fact "the final act of Richard's ritual affirmation of himself as rightful king." Ashdown-Hill says that Richard "acted in full accord with the late medieval literary tradition."  

After his accession, Henry Tudor would soon confirm this first impression, as the kind of man who preferred judicial murder to a face-to-face duel. While there would soon be a host of Yorkist family members executed on various trumped up charges by him, there is no record of Henry VII even lifting his sword at the battle which would establish his famous dynasty. 

What can I make of my own long fascination with this still controversial character, this long dead English King? In many ways, Richard was the last of his kind. His brief reign marked the end of the  Plantagenet Kings, and from this time forward, historians habitually date the beginning of modern times. Richard's pagentory charge was a medieval aristocrat's decision to play the role of king--a leader of his men--in the most heroic fashion possible. 

Henry was indeed a modern man, cut from different cloth, a man who had far less right to the throne than most of the people he exececuted, a man who had been poor and on the run, but who now intended to become rich by taking everything he could take from anyone who opposed him. The personal tale of Henry VII is a classic picture of a paranoid miser. This fruits of this monarch's gold hunger would--as is so often the case--be blown by his equally paranoid and indulged, vainglorious son, Henry VIII.  

I read the Daughter of Time (by popular mystery writer Josephine Tey) when I was eleven. Richard's story as she told it--here was a man "framed" by his enemies and maligned forever after--became an overriding obsession. I can still pick up my tattered Penguin paperback and find the bedraggled white rose I dried between the pages, oh, so many years ago! Today I can still remember all the kids at summer camp whose ears I talked off on a subject most of them had never heard of. Tilting at windmills in my own nerd way, I guess. 

Now, of course, I look at history--especially the kind of western history which I was taught in school--in a very different. In the great scheme of things, the innocence or guilt of an otherwise obscure English king doesn't matter much, but to this day it remains a heck of a great story. 

Roan Rose is my proud contribution to the Richardian genre. Here we hear the tale of the servant Rose, one who was privy to so much, yet still survived to tell it. 

Dear Rose! She is one of my favorite creations. I hope readers love her as much as I do.


~~Juliet Waldron  

All my novels at Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0089F5X3C

   






Sunday, August 28, 2022

Falling in Love with Your Book-Hero By Connie Vines #Romance, #BWLPublishingInc, #Book-Hero, #Writing Romance

Authors often speak about how a dream will lead to a novel or how their books seem to plot themselves... 

And then there's the 'I hear voices".
This means the characters speak to the author, and away they go on a book adventure.

I wish 😐 my characters were so forthcoming.

My writing life:

#1 I always dream in color (technicolor). Unless the dream is a rerun, then I dream black and white.🎥

#2 If I do manage to dream about a book I'm writing, I never hear the dialogue. Why? Because a theme song is blaring throughout the dream. The decibel level in my head can be likened to "The Danger Zone" cranked up in a Dolby sound movie theater!  

#3 I do, however, hear the dialogue in my head in snatches. Just enough to start or end a scene. Picture yourself seated in a coffee shop, and a couple walked past you...it's like that.

#4 Authors always fall in love with their characters. I love each of my heroes. But my favorite (as it should be) was my first. Lynx Maddox.

Well, you know authors conduct research...

According to various sources (Wikipedia, Wikipedia How, fan blogs).

💖Falling in love with a fictional character is not unusual, and many people have found themselves emotionally attached to a surface in a book, movie, TV show, or video game. 

💞💑 Romance with a fictional character can also be an excellent opportunity to find an outlet for creativity and learn more about yourself and what you need from a relationship. 💒


Did you have a teenage crush?

Of course.💟

Who was your first book crush? 
Me: Edward Rochester (Jane Eyre).

Movie Hero?
Me: Sean Connery as James Bond (though I didn't see the movies until decades later).


Television hero?
Me: John M. Jackson as Rear Admiral A.J Chegwidden on JAG.


Alien? 
Me: Mr. Spock (Original Star Trek or movie version).


I'm sure you have your personal book crush.


Haven't decided?  Here are four choices 😉





Stop by my blog (Dishin' it Out) or log in to my FaceBook (author) page.

Happy Reading,

Connie

XOXO









I am a 100% Night Owl.

My personal photo of my Pumpkin Spice coffee






Saturday, August 27, 2022

Decluttering your life, your WIP, your closet – by Vijaya Schartz

Find all my titles at: amazon B&N - Smashwords - Kobo


Minimalism is on the rise. In the aftermaths of the pandemic, we developed an appreciation for uncluttered living spaces. Besides, clutter is unhealthy, can cause depression… or harbor ghosts of your past. After decluttering, you will be healthier, happier, and free to move on with your life.

Eight years ago, I left a husband and his big house to live with my cat in a tiny apartment. Since then, I moved again, and each move is an opportunity to get rid of clutter. And despite the fact that I am a minimalist at heart, I still have to remind myself to declutter from time to time. Usually, it’s when I run out of hangers, or I can’t find the top I want to wear in the impossibly tight closet.



As our body changes, we buy new clothes but keep the old ones. Just in case? Why? Get rid of the clothes you no longer wear, like old bras that don’t fit anymore. If you ever lose the weight to fit in those skinny jeans again, they will be out of style and you’ll want to buy new ones anyway. Get rid of the shoes that hurt your feet, tired flannel shirts, cropped tops from another decade, work clothes from a previous job, etc.

As I’m turning in my October release to the publisher, ANGEL SHIP, Book One of a new sci-fi series with romantic elements titled Blue Phantom, I thought a few days of decluttering would keep me busy while waiting for the edits.

Here is the stunning cover of ANGEL SHIP
Find other books in the Azura universe: 
amazon B&N - Smashwords - Kobo


But this is easier said than done. I still have favorite shirts from two decades ago. I know I can never wear them in public, but I still love them. I don’t go out very often, and except for maybe four times a year, I only wear yoga pants, sports bras, and loose tops while typing away at my computer or going to my Tai-Chi classes.



To make it easier on your soul, start with a smaller space, like your car. Then you can move to the trash, the broken things, the chipped mugs and plates, the reminders of unhappy times, the junk drawer, old jewelry. Trash the unflattering photos and digitalize the good ones. Get rid of expired medications, expired food in the fridge and kitchen cabinets. Extra kitchen utensils, bowls, pans, spatulas. Donate, recycle the empty plastic jars, have a yard sale, sell the good stuff on eBay, etc.

My dilemma is often what do I trash? What do I donate? Sometimes, it’s difficult to be objective, and I need another pair of eyes. A friend can give you sound advice in that matter.



As a writer, the same goes with your manuscript. Clarity is key. You don’t want to confuse the reader with too many characters and unnecessary details. You can sometimes consolidate two or three secondary characters into one who will serve the same purpose. Also, if a subplot doesn’t enhance the main story, get rid of it. Give your characters breathing room, so they can be free to express their true feelings on the page.

In the meantime, enjoy the last of summer. Almost time to take out the Halloween and Thanksgiving decorations… Then it will be Christmas again… then New Year.

Happy Reading! Find all my books at:
amazon B&N - Smashwords - Kobo


Vijaya Schartz, author
Strong Heroines, Brave Heroes, cats


Friday, August 26, 2022

Tasmania, the Apple Isle—Tricia McGill

Find all my books here on my BWL Author page.

This post was supposed to be about Tassie’s past, simply because my next historical will be set there, but it is set in the not so glamorous past when Tasmania’s Port Arthur was a penal settlement and prison. 

However, while looking up just why the wonderful island that I have visited so many times that I have lost count, is called The Apple Isle, I came across this great site that listed many of the island’s awesome facts:

https://www.lifesanadventure.com.au/15-awesome-facts-tasmania 

I am certain they will not mind me borrowing from their information about the place.  It seems that there are two theories on why it’s called the Apple Isle. The first one is its former status as an important apple exporter; however, some say it’s because the island’s shaped like an apple. 

Tasmania isn’t as small as most people think. It’s about the same size as the Republic of Ireland or Sri Lanka, and is situated closer to the equator than Rome or Chicago (mind you it does get chilly down there at times), and is the world’s 26th largest island. Almost half of the state is World Heritage Area, national park, or marine and forest reserves, has water so pure it produces the only bottled rainwater approved by health departments around the world.

Holland actually imports tulips that are grown in Tasmania.

Very interesting fact: Tasmania used to be attached to Victoria via a land bridge until 10,000 years ago when the polar caps melted, making the oceans rise. All that’s left of this land bridge is the Furneaux Group of islands of which Flinders Island is the largest.

Tasmania has some of the world’s most hilarious place names. There’s Eggs and Bacon Bay, Trousers Point, Penguin, Milkshake Hills, Stinkhole, Granny’s Gut, Awesome Wells, Satan’s Lair and Lovely Bottom.

Add to all this you will meet some of the most welcoming and friendly folks. My first visit there was soon after I arrived in Australia many moons ago. I travelled with my friend who was born there and has since resettled there. We would stay with her mother who used to take us on hilarious outings where we walked for miles to find a river where she would likely catch fish. I cannot recall her catching anything, but we did see a pair of platypus swimming by. Her picnics were like no other experienced before or since. And I also saw a ghost in a tiny cottage where we stayed onone visit to the west coast.

Most international visitors seem to head north when they travel to Australia, but Tassie has plenty to offer in my humble opinion, but perhaps I am biased. Now I really should get back to my research on Tasmania’s past. 

Visit my web page for excerpts and reviews


Thursday, August 25, 2022

My Links with 'Jane Eyre'

 



My 'Links' with 'Jane Eyre'

I first read Charlotte Bronte's 'Jane Eyre' when I was about 11 and loved it. My mother took me to see a stage adaptation performed by our local repertory company, which was one of the events that led to my lifelong love of theatre, and I read the book more times than I can count.

About three years later, the story was serialised in 6 parts on BBC, in the old days of black and white television. Stanley Baker played Rochester and Daphne Slater played Jane. This was made doubly interesting by the fact that my class tutor at the time had been at school with Daphne Slater and used her 'connections' to get the autographs of both lead characters for us all (which I still have!) 

 



Fast forward about 30+ years. I started researching my family history and dscovered a link (in my father's family) to landed gentry in the county of Derbyshire. One of my ancestors was Robert Eyre (1390-1459) who fought at the Battle of Agincourt in 1415. He owned land in the county and married Joan Padley, the heiress to other estates. They lived in the small village of Hathersage and when they died, their tombs were surmounted with brass effigies. These are the most famous effigies in the church.


Even more fascinating (for me at least) was the connection between these brasses and Jane Eyre. 

In 1845 Charlotte Bronte went to stay at the Rectory at Hathersage with an old school friend, whose brother was the vicar. It was here she started to write her novel about Jane Eyre. It is said that she was inspired by the brass effigy on the tomb of Joan Eyre (nee Padley).

So it seems Jane Eyre was named after my 15-times-great grandmother! Maybe that is why I have always had an affinity with Charlotte Bronte's novel?

Find me on Facebook: www.facebook.com/paulamartinromances

Link to my Amazon author page:  author.to/PMamazon  

Wednesday, August 24, 2022

Hiking the Chilkoot Trail by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

 


 

https://www.bookswelove.com/donaldson-yarmey-joan/

https://books2read.com/Romancing-the-Klondike

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://books2read.com/Rushing-the-Klondike  

My husband and I hiked the trail in 1997, on the hundredth anniversary of the Klondike Gold Rush. We were in the Yukon and Alaska so I could research the state and territory for my travel book Backroads of Alaska and the Yukon. That hike and my two trips to Dawson City were what made it possible for me to write Romancing the Klondike, book three of the Canadian Historical Brides Collection. The sequel, Rushing the Klondike, is out this month.

     Many of the men and women who went to the Klondike in the first year starved and froze because they hadn't brought along enough supplies. To combat that, the North West Mounted Police decreed that the prospectors had to have 907 kg (2000 lbs) of  provisions in order to cross the border from Alaska into British Columbia and then onto the Yukon. The NWMP set up a scale to weigh each person's supplies before letting them climb the Chilkoot Pass.

     My husband and I each carried about 16kg (35 lbs) on our five day hike up to and over the pass. Besides our food, we carried a tent, sleeping bags, two changes of clothes, an extra pair of shoes in case the pair we were wearing got wet or to change into in camp to give our hiking shoes a breather.

     The Chilkoot Trail was called the `poor‑man's route'. It ran from Dyea to Bennett Lake following an old, first nations path. The men and women who travelled to the Klondike in hopes of getting rich had to haul their supplies up and over the summit. Some were able to hire indigenous peoples to help but many had to do it themselves. They would carry as much as 36kg (80 lbs) up the `Golden Stairs' (steps cut into the solid snow of the pass) each trip, then slide back down to their cache and begin again. Most made 40 trips to do so. Once a miner got onto the steps he didn't dare get off until the top. If fatigue forced him to step out he seldom managed to make it back on.

     Most of the people who started for the Klondike were Cheechakos, a native word for `greenhorn'. It was after a person had spent a winter in the north that he or she became known as a Sourdough.

     The 53 kilometre (33 mile) long Chilkoot Trail is called the `Longest Museum in the World'. There are 10 campsites along it so we had plenty to choose from. We wanted to make sure our daily hikes weren’t very long.

     The trail started out with the Taiya River to our left. We were continually climbing and descending beside it through a rainforest whose tall trees created a nice, cool shade. We had to watch for tree roots, stumps, and rocks and in places there was a drop-off so we made sure our packs were secure and didn't wobble. We crossed a number of bridges, made of metal, split logs, planks or boardwalks.

     At kilometer 8 (mile 5) we reached Finnegan's Point, the first campground on the trail. This was named after Pat Finnegan and his two sons who set up a ferry service here in 1897. Later they built a road through the damp, boggy areas and charged a toll. This worked only in the summer because the prospectors pulled their goods on sleds on the frozen ice in the winter. This point was also used as a cache where the stampeders left their first bundles of supplies while they went back to Dyea for the rest.

     4.8 kilometres (3 miles) from Finnegan's Point we reached Canyon City campsite our first stop. We set up our tent then cooked our supper. Once we had washed our dishes, we drained the water down the screened-in pipe for gray water and scrapped the small food particles off the screen into our garbage. This we hauled out with us. At the time we had to hoist our food and garbage up on the bear pole to keep it from attracting bears into the camp. We also made sure not to keep any food with us in our tent.

     To reach the actual site of Canyon City, we continued down the trail 0.8 kilometre (0.5 mile) past the camp until we reached a sign with the distances to places: Canyon City Shelter 0.5 mile; Dyea 8 miles: Sheep Camp Shelter 5 miles; Chilkoot Pass 8.5 miles.

     We followed the path to the left, crossed over the suspension bridge and came to a sign that stated: Canyon City Historical Site. We were now walking where Canyon City stood over 100 years ago. We passed an old, rusted, cook stove and come to a huge, rusted boiler. This 50 horsepower steam boiler was used to operate an aerial tramway between here and the Chilkoot Pass. It cost 16.5 cents per kilogram (7.5 cents per pound) to send goods over this tram. Few of the Klondikers could afford it.

     Stamped on the boiler was: Union Iron Works SF 1886.

     The next morning we headed to Pleasant Camp which was 4.5 kilometres (2.7 miles) from Canyon City. The climb out of the canyon between the two camps was thought to be the worst part of the trail by some stampeders. A little ways past the Pleasant Camp we crossed a suspension bridge over a series of cascades. And in 2 kilometres (1.2 miles) we arrived at Sheep Camp beside the Taiya River. This camp is the last stop before the Chilkoot Pass and a ranger gave a talk about the conditions of the pass at 7:00pm Alaska time. Other words of advice were to leave by at least 7am, drink 2 litres of water on the trail and expect to take 10 hours to reach Happy Camp.

     When we left Sheep Camp the next morning the ground was level for the first bit and we came across a building that looked almost like a train station. After we began climbing there was an old log building with glass windows, little patio, and cooking utensils hanging on the wall. We were climbing mainly on a path but sometimes over boulders and we left the trees and were in alpine meadows.

     The bears like to use the trail so we had to be on the lookout for them, since they own the trail. It’s best if one gets far off into the trees and let them have the right of way.

     It was a 6.8 kilometre (4.2 mile) climb to the Scales. This is where the prospectors who had hired professional indigenous packers had to reweigh their goods. The packers wanted more money, up to $2.20 per kilogram (1 dollar per pound) to carry the supplies up and over the pass. Consequently, many items were left behind and some still can be seen.

     From the Scales we could see the Chilkoot Pass and we crossed alpine tundra to reach the base. Past the Chilkoot is Peterson Pass, a longer but easier alternative to the Chilkoot which was used by some Klondikers.

     Those who travelled the trail in the winter climbed the 'Golden Stairs' cut in the ice and snow up the side of the pass. Those who came in the summer, when the snow was melted, had to traverse over the huge boulders and loose rock left from a slide. That was what we climbed on.

     The climb was steep and we had to lean forward as we went from solid rock to solid rock. If we straightened up the weight of our pack threatened to pull us over backwards. Other hikers walked up it as if they were on stairs. Near the top we reached a plateau. To our right was a cairn marking the border between Alaska and BC.

      When we reached the top we had climbed 823 metres (2700 feet) from Sheep Camp. At the summit was a shelter and outhouse. We stayed only long enough to use the outhouse and take pictures because it was still a 6.4 kilometre (4 mile) hike to Happy Camp.

     As we hiked down the Canadian side of the summit we had the most magnificent view of Crater Lake, the short purple, white, red, yellow, pink flowers of the alpine tundra, and the mountains. We didn’t walk on the tundra because it’s not easy for the flowers and grass to grow that far north. At Stone Crib there was a pile of rocks that anchored the cables for the aerial tramway on this side of the summit. Here also is a large saw blade from a saw mill that someone decided he didn't need any more.

     Happy Camp is on a river between Crater Lake and Long Lake. After spending the night we continued our hike and when we reached a sign pointing for Deep Lake we turned in that direction and climbed above Long Lake. We came over a rise and saw a lovely lake, a bridge over a river, trees, and a camp in the centre of the mountains. We crossed that bridge and arrived at Deep Lake Camp. A wagon road ran from here to Lindeman City and we could still see some old sleigh runners.

     As we left Deep Lake Camp we walked beside the lakeshore and came upon a metal boat frame. Then we left the lakeshore and followed along Deep Lake Gorge. The further down we went the more trees there were. It was very beautiful and peaceful as we walked through the tall pine trees and finally reached Lake Lindeman Camp (4.8 kilometres (3 miles) from Deep Lake Camp.

     Some Klondikers set up a tent city here and built boats during the winter for sailing across the lake. At the other end of the lake they portaged around the rapids between Lindeman and Bennett lakes. Others carried their supplies along frozen Lindeman Lake and built their boats at Bennett Lake.

     We visited the museum near the river and looked through the gold rush exhibits. A Rufous hummingbird flitted in front of me attracted by the red hoodie I was wearing.

     The next morning we passed Bare Loon Camp and made it to Bennett Lake. The largest tent city in the world was set up here during the winter of 1898. In the spring, the residents of this tent city built boats from the trees around the lake. Over 7100 crafts set sail down Bennett Lake, beginning the 900 kilometres (560 miles) journey to Dawson City. Records show that about 30,000 people travelled from Bennett Lake to Dawson City in 1898. Sadly, when they arrived they found out that the best claims had been staked by the prospectors who already lived in the north.

     Bennett grew after the railway reached it from Skagway in 1899 and it had warehouses, shipping offices and steamer docks. The St. Andrews Presbyterian Church was built in 1898 by volunteer workers and it is the only gold rush building still standing in Bennett. There is also a train station and a train that takes hikers back to Skagway.

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