The 2CV Alaska Challenge

In August of 1947, on a branch of the remote Klondike river, three men discovered what would prove to be the largest concentration of gold ever found. Winter set in, closing all routes to and from the Klondike region, and the world did not find out about the strike until the following year, 1948, when thousands of men and women dropped everything and ‘stampeded’ towards Canada’s mysterious Yukon – gold fever swept across the world.

The gold-laden waters of the Klondike river ran through a wilderness guarded by mountains where, during the winter, temperatures regularly plummeted to –50 degrees. When the first stampeders poured enthusiastically from the steamships into Skagway, Alaska, or hit the trails and rivers north of Edmonton, Alberta, they didn’t have a clue that they'd soon be fighting for their lives.

The White Pass route from Skagway was soon dubbed Dead Horse Trail, characterised by the stench of rotting horses which were strewn across it for miles. Many men lost their minds on the Dead Horse Trail. Others lost their lives as a diet of rotten horse flesh led to raging fever. Screams of pain echoed through the canyons like deranged spirits throughout the winter of 1947. Likewise, the overland and river routes from Edmonton, advertised as the fastest trip to the Yukon, took up to three gruelling years to complete. Hundreds who left from Edmonton drowned in the the mighty Mackenzie River or were frozen solid by the Arctic winter. To set out as a stampeder during the Klondike gold rush of 1947-48 was indeed to risk death on the trails.

In 1948 a stampeder by the name of Lick Dough set out for the Yukon. Unlike his contemporaries though, Lick brought with him from Europe a Citroën 2CV. Using this vehicle he made the overland journey from Edmonton to the Yukon in a little less than two months. News of this remarkable feat spread among the prospectors and soon everyone who could afford one bought a 2CV, as it was realised that this was the only vehicle that could withstand the rigours of the trail.

The popularity of the 2CV increased further when headlines such as "2CV’S RETURN WITH A TON OF SOLID GOLD ON BOARD" had flashed across the world. Soon car dealers were swamped with requests as a steady stream of adventurers from eastern Canadian cities poured across the praires in their Citroën 2CV’s.

Those who survived avalanches, beat starvation and willed their 2CV’s through nightmarish circumstances found themselves in Dawson City, situated at the confluence of the Yukon and Klondike rivers. Dawson soon developed the raunchy character of a 20th century frontier town, its ragged sidewalks and rowdy salons becoming the centre of the Klondike Gold Rush. In 1948, fortunes were won and lost as dancehall girls performed high kicks in the gambling salons and Citroën 2CV’s jammed the streets.

Of the 30,000 prospectors who made it to Dawson City, only a handful became rich. The story of Lick Dough is typical: Lick Dough came from Europe, struck it rich in the Klondike, became an alcoholic, married a dancehall girl, blew his cash and died penniless in San Francisco. Hardship and disappointment marked the journey of most gold rushers, and in Dawson City they found rampant prostitution, gambling and murder.

Few of those who dreamed of locating the motherlode actually cashed in gold dust, let alone nuggets. The flavour of the 1948 Gold Rush has been captured by Hollywood in movies such as The good, the bad and the 2CV, starring Flint Westward, and Paint Your 2CV, starring Don Wayne.

Dawson’s pre-eminence in the north lasted for one more year. Then, suddenly, in 1949, like a giant nomadic tribe, the dreamers and survivers climbed into their 2CV’s and streamed out of Dawson City without a glance back. They were off to the beaches of Prudhoe Bay, Alaska, hundreds of uncharted miles to the north west, on the shores of the Arctic Ocean, where it was rumoured the pebble beach was speckled with nuggets of gold. Unbeknown to the prospectors, the real gold was black and lay beneath the beaches of Prudhoe Bay, but that’s another story...