Referred to by travellers as "the bible of North Country travel" since it was first published in 1949, The Milepost is an essential travel companion for anyone planning or taking a trip to Alaska, Yukon Territory, Northwest Territories, northern Alberta or northern British Columbia.Travellers will find detailed mile-by-mile road logs and maps of all northern routes, including the famous Alaska Highway. The Milepost is updated annually by experienced field editors, providing accurate and up-to-date information on attractions, activities, food, gas, lodging and camping. Details are provided for every city and town along the way.Travel by air, ferry, cruise ship, bus and rail is also covered. Every edition of The Milepost includes Alaska State Ferry and B.C. Ferries schedules, important information on crossing the border, a calendar of events, a pull-out Plan-a-Trip map, litre-to-gallon conversions and dozens of other travel tips.Special features highlight side-trip destinations, gold rush and highway history, and places to eat and things to do.With its wealth of detail, The Milepost is a wonderful resource for anyone interested in the North, whether it is the trans-Alaska pipeline, bird watching, Native culture, or glaciers and wildlife viewing, to name just a few attractions. This classic travel guide is a must for every Northland traveller.

No aspect of this harrowing journey was more difficult--or deadly--than the trek over the Chilkoot Trail: a fifty-three kilometre journey over the coastal mountains from the tidewaters of Alaska, through British Columbia to the headwaters of the Yukon River. But even before the gold rush, the trail was an important First Nations trade and travel route, joining the Tlingit of the coast with the First Nations of the interior. Today the Chilkoot Trail draws hikers from around the world who want to experience the area's natural beauty and soak up its rich history. In Chilkoot Trail: Heritage Route to the Klondike, two historians--one from each side of the border--give readers the feeling of what life was like on the trail before, during and after the great Klondike gold rush.

By the thousands they came, the gold-seekers of 1897, pouring through Alaska's White and Chilkoot passes on their way to the Klondike and to fortune. Fast behind them came the entrepreneurs, the bunco artists, and before long, the engineers and financiers whose driving ambition was to build a railway through the White Pass's rocky precipices. This is the epic northern adventure of the men who rushed for gold, the workers who toiled in winter storms and thaw-time muck, carving the grade and laying rail, and the ingenious characters who dreamed, schemed, promoted, and finally built the White Pass and Yukon Railway.

As the Klondike gold rush peaked in spring 1898, adventurers and gamblers rubbed shoulders with town-builders and gold-panners in Skagway, Alaska. The flow of riches lured confidence men, too—among them Jefferson Randolph “Soapy” Smith (1860–98), who with an entourage of “bunco-men” conned and robbed the stampeders. Soapy, though, a common enough criminal, would go down in legend as the Robin Hood of Alaska, the “uncrowned king of Skagway,” remembered for his charm and generosity, even for calming a lynch mob. When the Fourth of July was celebrated in ’98, he supposedly led the parade. Then, a few days later, he was dead, killed in a shootout over a card game. With Smith’s death, Skagway rid itself of crime forever. Or at least, so the story goes. Journalists immediately cast him as a martyr whose death redeemed a violent town. In fact, he was just a petty criminal and card shark, as Catherine Holder Spude proves definitively in “That Fiend in Hell”: Soapy Smith in Legend, a tour de force of historical debunking that documents Smith’s elevation to western hero. In sorting out the facts about this man and his death from fiction, Spude concludes that the actual Soapy was not the legendary “boss of Skagway,” nor was he killed by Frank Reid, as early historians supposed. She shows that even eyewitnesses who knew the truth later changed their stories to fit the myth. But why? Tracking down some hundred retellings of the Soapy Smith story, Spude traces the efforts of Skagway’s boosters to reinforce a morality tale at the expense of a complex story of town-building and government formation. The idea that Smith’s death had made a lawless town safe served Skagway’s economic interests. Spude’s engaging deconstruction of Soapy’s story models deep research and skepticism crucial to understanding the history of the American frontier.