We aren’t big on joining clubs. But long ago when I saw a travel show segment about the Sourtoe Cocktail Club, I knew that someday I would find a way to join this exclusive clan. And last July, we did!
A Little Shaken, But Not Stirred in Dawson City, Yukon
There is so much we haven’t had a chance to share about our trip from Alaska through the Yukon and back to the West Coast. So the best place I think I can begin is by bragging about our Sourtoe Cocktail initiation at the Sourdough Saloon in Dawson City.
What is the Sourtoe Cocktail you ask? Well, plenty has been written about it, like this short Sourtoe Cocktail backstory on the Dawson City Visitor Centre website. Or this funny Atlas Obscura Sourtoe Cocktail write-up.
In short, this is why the drink exists:
In the early 1920s, two drunk Yukonites got caught in a terrible blizzard. One guy got frostbite on his big toe, (a not uncommon occurrence, even today). His drunk buddy tried to prevent gangrene by hacking off the toe, right there on the spot. So he did. And to commemorate the surgical precision of his rusty pocket knife, they preserved the severed toe in a jar of alcohol.
Years later, the putrid pickled digit was discovered by a “Captain Dick Stevenson,” who founded the Sourtoe Cocktail Club.
How do you join the Sourtoe Cocktail Club?
Only the bravest (and drunkest) of souls have been allowed to join the club since its inception in 1973. Simply show up at the Sourdough Saloon. Get your name on the waiting list to meet the current Captain, and proceed to get even drunker while you wait for a chance take a shot of Yukon Jack with AN ACTUAL HUMAN TOE inside your shot glass.
Oh and don’t worry if you’re gluten free like me, you can substitute the gluton-bomb Yukon Jack for anything else. I opted for tequila.
Here’s how it went for us:
Once the toe is in the glass, the Captain reminds you that;
“You can drink it fast, you can drink it slow—but the lips have gotta touch the toe.”
There’s always two toes on the table. One is always being soaked in alcohol to clean off the previous shooter’s germs. That made me feel a little better when that gross specimen clanked against my front teeth as I courageously shot the booze and got it over with. My initiation went fast. Jim’s didn’t, as you saw above.
No, our lips didn’t touch the same toe that started the club. That’s because some sick and twisted barflies have purposely swallowed a few toes over the years. Today you’ll get fined $2500 if you do the same. But since the club’s inception, over 25 amputated toes have been sent in for the cause.
Ah, there’s nothing like a good stiff drink and a world-famous tourist trap where you can enjoy it, especially after a long day driving in the Yukon!
