Inspired by the real diaries, letters, and newspapers of the 1897-1899 Klondike Gold Rush. Samuel Cole and his companions are fictional; the world they cross is real.
Dear Mother - Forgive the staggering hand. I am writing with the carriage swaying under me and the pen jumping at every joint in the rails, but I gave you my word I would set the whole journey down as it happened, and I would sooner you puzzled out a crooked line than waited on a tidy one. Eli and I are away, and there is no calling it back now.
I keep seeing your face at the gate, and the way you held your crying until the wagon had taken the corner and you believed yourself unwatched. We went off this morning with the basket you packed running over, and I am ashamed to say we were into it before the church spire had dropped from sight. Eli holds that a man cannot weep and chew in the same breath, and I begin to think he loaded half that basket on purpose, to keep my spirits up by keeping my mouth full. He says three things carry a man north and bring him home again - a full pack, a stubborn heart, and the plain refusal to quit - and that we have laid in all three, though the first cost the most by a long way.
Clara walked with me as far as the depot and pressed a flat packet into my hands, sewn up tight in oilcloth, and made me swear not to open it until the worst of the mountains was behind me. I have buried it so deep in the outfit that I shall have to dig half a day to break my own promise. Tell her it is still sealed, which for me is no small marvel.