I have a completely unproven fear that every four straight days of hotel breakfast buffet I consume will eventually shave off a year of my life; in that case and at my rate, I don’t think I’ll make it to 45. These days, going out three nights in a row is exhausting, much less three night-less Yukon nights, but I still managed to hoover up as much of the Klondike spirit as I could withstand.

After a long breakfast that included a loopy, sleep-deprived discussion on the appropriateness of apple juice as a beverage for adults, and similarity in smell of that drink to kid pee, I eventually set about to St. Paul’s to see Spencer Krug of Sunset Rubdown, Yegor Dyachkov of geeky-cool classical trio Triple Forte, and Victoria-based flamenco group Alma de Espana gamely play together on a Spanish-flavoured jam before each performing alone. Later, Krug joked that he was playing a song on the piano for the time because the Spanish guitars onstage didn’t have the any dots on the fretboard to help him find his place on it. Here’s a shot of Dyachov at church:

After watching stirring roots-inspired performances by singer-songwriters Jonathan Ostrander and Elena Yeung, I headed to the Palace Grand. Two years ago, I had dinner in the lobby of the Gold Rush-era theatre seated next to a Parks Commissioner’s wife, but I had never seen any performances there. Like a Stradivarius loaned to a fledgling virtuoso, the Palace Grand, a jewel box-like theatre decked with British and a 45-star American flags, is a cultural heirloom that’s still brought to life by musicians:

That afternoon at the Grand, we saw doo-wop acapella group the Persuasions, who have opened for Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention, Ray Charles, Bill Cosby, and Richard Pryor to name but a few,” sing gospel:

In the evening, Alma de Espana started with a long solo piece by 19-year-old guitarist, Gareth Owen. While I’m sure my total ignorance of flamenco adversely affected my reaction, my appreciation of his technical proficiency was quickly overtaken by impatience. It was like listening to a Spanish classical version of Eddie Van Halen’s “Eruption.” Fortunately, in a later song, Victoria Maguire of the troupe stepped forward to sing and dance, giving the guitar-playing a less aimless feel:

The Handsome Family, from New Mexico, is fronted by husband and wife Brett and Rennie Sparks, who made the crowd smile with their frothy pretend bickering and played songs that have a reverb-drenched countrypolitan twang. The male Sparks has a baritone that fits somewhere between Nick Cave and the guy from the Crash Test Dummies, and their songs of loss and woe walk the line between hammy pastiche and genuine feeling:

Afterwards, we met up with our travelling companions at the Jack London Grill. I was very disappointed with Michelle for welching on her promise to drink the Sour Toe. As a protest I refused to let her document it. She got these instead:

I draw the line at the Sour Paw Cocktail:

After sitting outside eating French fries while Bend Sinister closed the festival with a cover of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing,” we ended the night at the Pit where I saw possibly my favourite act of the festival, rockabilly group Sasquatch Prom Date.

The Whitehorse band played until 2 a.m. and were into their second encore by the time I left, after cadging one last smoke.

Thank you Dawson City and the gorgeous and deranged good people of the Yukon!