Hi, everyone! I really hope you’re enjoying reading about the trip as much as I’m enjoying writing the stories. Stories we’ll get back to tomorrow, I promise.
While I was writing about meeting new friends, riding through a fire, and Dawson City a thought occurred to me – this doesn’t seem all that weird, really. Not when you write it down. That thought was backed up by a text from one of the guys:
That exchange prompted me to write this in lieu of our standard story continuation – have no fear, it returns tomorrow. We even go back to Dawson City.
What is really hard to convey is how not normal everything actually was. It all really started with the fire. On it’s own, not a big deal. But throw everything else in, and the feeling that you weren’t in reality any longer became amplified.
Another interesting thing was just meeting at the gas station. The number of variables that went into it are pretty astounding, really. I actually learned later that we were all nearly at the same bar the night before. If we’d ended up at that bar would the events still have played out the same way? For some reason my gut says no.
Nobody in Dawson City (save a small handful of folks) seemed real. Yes, they were real people of flesh and bone (probably), but they all seemed to be acting a part. The feeling of being in a world where everyone was assigned a role increased with all of our interactions. No way could this all just be happening.
If you’ve seen Westworld (a reference I made previously), then you might have an idea of what I mean. Scenarios almost came across as pre-planned. In my mind I imagine a vast underground network with casting, costume, etc. The Disneyland of the Yukon.
The juxtaposition of the preserved gold rush town with modern touches, mixed with the eerie feeling you were caught in a trap, the unlikely scenarios, and negotiating in cryptocurrency all contributed to the feeling of being in 3019, not 2019. It really messed with one’s brain.
The characters really were characters. At the time none of us would have believe these types of people could exist anywhere outside of Dawson City, it just wasn’t possible. As you’ll see the portal wouldn’t let go for quite a while. Even so, in those moments we were constantly exchanging looks of “WTF” even while in the midst of things.
A few examples:
Meatloaf – boisterous, motorcycle jacket wearing, guitar toting… nomad? I don’t think any of us got a good feel for the guy at all. At one point he was found sleeping in our hotel foyer.
Welder Girl – I have no idea what her name is/was, and I don’t care. She rolled up out of nowhere to constantly yell about how much she hated me, but loved me. It was very creepy, and costume apparently only issued 1 uniform.
Santa Claus – Another character that came from out of nowhere. Might have worked at the jail as a guard. Wandered off with Welder Girl to the bar as bike repairs wound down. Guy said he didn’t drink…
Hotdog Guy – Sells cheddars at night, raps for cheddar by day. Yeah, totally normal.
Those are just four. Out of hundred of people we saw. Weirdly, you’d only run into many of the folks once. Where did they go? Dawson City is not large.
The people walking in actual period correct costumes didn’t help things. In fact, it probably made things worse.
I truly wish you, dear reader, had been there. Words really don’t convey how insane everything was, and would continue to be… find out more tomorrow.
-Ryan
Ryan Cavalier 