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Where are the Roosters?
The saloon can pack in 200 during July the 4th celebrations. May 17 Thursday 2007
Chicken ... Alaska ... What Happens in Chicken Stays in Chicken ... Therefore no names and few faces.
The small town of Chicken sits near the Canadian border and has a permanent population of 9. During the summer this increases to over 50. Many tourists stop to experience the uniqueness of this tiny place. There is a saloon the size of a small bedroom and on either side of this are a restaurant and a gift shop. The woman that owns the place has been here for 15 years. A little further down is what seems a new enterprise that offers gifts, showers, RV hook-up, gold jewellery made by the proprietress, WiFi, and small snacks.
Tents were erected on gravel or amongst the trees where one had to avoid wet mossy holes. I camp among trees because invariably I need to visit a bush in the middle of the night.
After cook duty, setting up the tent and showers it was time to hit the saloon.
By the time I reached the place (cleaning up after cooking always takes time) others had already started to have a VERY good time. By
The Saloon
Hats, parts of undies, car plates, anything with a name on it from around the worls in many languages was stapled to the walls and ceiling. 11:00 and after a mixture of beer and Yukon Jack Perma Frost Schnapps imported from Canada and 80% proof, I too had a VERY
good time.
One of the attractions, organized by the bartender who arrives to work here for the summer from someplace in the States with his two Chihuahuas, is stuffing volunteered women’s undies in a contrived cannon and blowing the panties into the it torn to little bits. The multi coloured panties are scattered about the parking lot. Any bits of a relatively reasonable size are stapled to the ceiling of the saloon.
When YOU get to Chicken, the big yellow bit is my panty… it being bigger because it didn’t start out as a tong!
Most of the group that partook of the activities staggered home at different times of the night. Some played pool, others talked to locals…all two of them …the bartender and the guy who emptied the rifle shells to use as shot in the cannon, and the rest concentrated on drinking as much as possible without falling off the stools.
The saloon and restaurant and store look a bit disheveled in the light of day. And this laid
Drink in Hand
Everybody from the truck group drank something.... some more than others. back turn of the century look is being challenged by a new log structure that offers clean toilets, shower, gift shop and homebaked goods with canister coffee. Internet acces was possible as it was at the saloon. The big draw to the new place was the RV parking possibilities and the more crisp aspect of the whole layout. The Saloon of course has its draw... IT IS FAMOUS!.... people from all over the world come here...must be the Lonely Planet write-up and word of mouth and endless blogs also help.
ORIGINAL TEXT
Am in Chicken... a small town near the Canadian border between Alaska And the Yukon. Its early morning with a bright sun shining from the wrong direction because this place lies so far north. Had a rip roaring time last night with Yukon Jack Perma Frost Schnapps, three locals, two girls in a black van and the crowd from the Big Orange Truck. Activities included pool table, jukebox, chivava dog petting and panties blasting out of a canon in the middle of an arctic night. Pictures to follow. Have to cook breakfast now.
Once we left here we were on our way to Dawson
Chivava
What a pick up angle. City, British Columbia via the Top of the World Highway. Getting through Canadian Customs took a little time it was eventually accomplished without our having to give up our wood supply.
The Top of the World Highway really felt higher above all else and was so beautiful, the pictures deserve a separate blog.
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