…and off to Tok we went!

COPYRIGHT 1992 ELAINE KAIN 1843 TALL PINE LANE. EAST GULL LAKE. MN

56401

All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced without permission.

How the lyrics came to be....

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho,

In case you want to know

She said, "It could be worse."

I thought she said" - verse!"

Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho!

(And now you know...)

Text, Drawings, and Verse by Elaine Kain

HEIGH-HO, HEIGH-HO,

IT'S OFF TO TOK WE GO...

By Elaine Kain

This is a factual and fairly accurate account of our stay in Tok, Alaska. Nothing is made up or exaggerated, and nothing within this document should be copied by the reader. Not if you value your sanity.

This book is dedicated to all the Tokites, a friendly bunch of people, and my family, a strange bunch of slightly-crazy people.

1

Why would anyone move to Tok, Alaska, a small isolated town about 100 miles from the Canadian border? Well, I moved there in 1985 to join my sister, Elise Hruby, in the honorable profession of waitressing. Armed with a 1966 National Geographic map, I made the 3,000 mile jaunt from Minnesota across Canada. I managed to add an extra 500 miles by driving, even on the single, straight Al-Can (Alaska-Canadian) Highway, in circles. I'd pull the rusty car, loaded with four kids on emergency potty runs, food remains, and guard dog, into a wayside rest; then drive back out the direction I came from...for 45 minutes. Finally, after guzzling a thermos of coffee, I'd flip the car around and head back in the general direction of Alaska. (I blame my poor sense of direction on being a descendent of Moses; I believe it's a genetic trait inherited through the ages. But unlike Moses, after five or ten years wandering around the same desert, I would have asked for directions. )

2

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho,

It's off to Tok we go.

We did survive

The horrible drive.

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho,

Heigh-ho!

3

We arrived in fairly good shape, despite the fact that our week of travel was enhanced by thunderstorms on muddy, rocky roads still under construction. But it was the hair-pin curves surrounded by dissolving cliffs that melted my nerves of steel into strands of whimpering noodles. Whoever decided to call that goat-path a 'road' was obviously sick, with a warped sense of humor. It was interesting, through, bottoming out in potholes so deep I lost daylight while obeying the signs that said, "Watch for falling rocks." Not that I knew what to do if I saw a falling rock, but it seemed a good thing to watch for; I didn't want a huge boulder sealing me into some large pothole without at least yelping one more time, "Look at the scenery!" Anyway, we arrived in Tok. I immediately kissed the ground and blessed my Guardian Angel, sure she was strained to the max, too. My vision reverted to almost-normal after a few short weeks, but one eye still has a tendency to peer upwards occasionally, watching for rocks, while the other one bulges forward seeking another curve or pothole or cliff. Sometimes it comes in handy when there are pigeons flying overhead.

4

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho,

A'renting we did go.

A cabin small

Was fun for all.

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho,

Heigh-ho!

5

Elise and her husband, Martin, coped with the first week of my visit fairly well, including the activities of my four kids mingling with their two sons. The kids were aged two, three, four, five, seven, and eight. In other words, a handful of monsters. Then I saw the adults beginning to twitch and gasp at the least little thing, a child tumbling down the stairs or performing yet a new acrobatic feat in the open, second-story green house, and I knew it was time I lived on my own - despite their feeble protests. Declaring my own independence. I rented a cabin from Sam Crocker on July 4th. We celebrated the occasion with fireworks, legal in Alaska. Martin was excited! Not because of the holiday, but because the invasion of his home by relatives was ending. Our new home was a huge 16- foot by 24- foot log cabin, outhouse included.