A TELEPHONE CALL last July started my wife and me on a trip into the Klondike that was at times as wild as any experienced by the prospectors who took part in the gold stampede in 1898. At least it was as rushed at the outset, and while we didn’t come back with any gold, we enjoyed a rich experience that lasted a month and covered 7,000 miles. The call came on a Thursday morning to my home in Centerville, Utah, where I am a photographer and free…