The ship docks in Skagway before I awake. It is in port all day, but we are disembarking here to head overland to the Klondike and Yukon country. I head upstairs for breakfast, but I am confused. We got a letter before bed that doesn’t make a lot of sense about the plans for the day.

We are told that we can get off the ship, actually that we should leave the ship and head to town for the Fourth of July parade. But we will have to come back on board the ship to meet our land tour coordinator at 2:00 pm. So we get off, then get back on the ship, so that we can get off the ship. My luggage exited the ship already (we had to have it out for pickup last night). That seems weird. If I am staying in Skagway, why can’t I just get off once?

Should we even get off? Maybe we should just take one last dip in the pool? I guess we can just go to the parade and come back. I guess we will have to confer.

After some discussion, we do indeed head into town for the parade. It is the Fourth of July, and Skagway apparently does it in style. My husband finds a seat along the heavily decorated main street and I go in search of coffee. After a lengthy wait, I return with two steaming cups of Java to help us through the chilly morning.

The bench now holds not only my husband, but also an elderly Australian couple. It is their first time in Alaska and their first 4th of July celebration. I insist they keep the seat. I tell the man that I want to be standing so I can scramble for candy and he looks at me as if I have gone crazy. Perhaps I have.

The locals are out in force, ready to celebrate alongside three cruise ships full of passengers. First, the local children are invited to participate in the children’s parade. We giggle at the decorated bicycles and costumes. One very small little boy insists on riding all by himself, even though he has to push with both feet; even though Dad tries to hurry him along. The boy will not be rushed and toddles along to cheers and encouragement. This delays festivities but no one seems to care.

I am distracted by people walking by with giant wheels of fry bread. They look and smell so good, that I think about going to get one. But, suddenly a train blocks Main Street and leans on its whistle. Whoo whoo! The parade is starting.

The Klondike National Park service leads the parade with a birthday cake celebrating 250 years. But they really win the day with their giant Uncle Sam puppet. He is whimsical and nostalgic in all the right ways.

Between floats and firetrucks, citizens march. Suffragettes remind us to vote and to not take democracy for granted. Soapy Smith (local gold rush legend) makes an appearance despite being dead for 150 years. So do the local ladies of ill repute.

And best of all, every float, truck, marcher, and performer throws candy. There is chocolate and starburst. I collect suckers and tootsie rolls. Every handful, I turn over to our Australian friends. Apparently octogenarians like candy almost as much as 8 year olds, because they have ear to ear grins. Which in turn gives me an ear to ear grin.

I am in the Wild West on the last frontier celebrating independence, democracy, and the federal union. Meanwhile, I am shamelessly chasing candy so that I can share it with my new international friends. Sitting close by are our friends from the boat who we just discovered will be sharing our overland adventure.

I feel connected. My husband and I started this journey alone, but have made friends all along the way. We are blessed. And I am really, really glad we got off the boat. We have just enough time to head back, have some lunch and get ready to leave the ship for the final disembarking.

I’m still confused why we have to go back to the ship instead of our hotel, but I am not in charge of anything. So we will just do as we are told and try to enjoy ourselves and make new friends along the way.