The Last Few

Our first big find, MILE 0 of the AK-HWY

Alex took our four wheels high up some mountain behind Smithers where we found a totally epic place to camp.  In the winter it is a parking lot for snowmobilers while this summer it was for us a field of daisies and a quiet rest stop for slumbering and breathing fresh mountain air.  The next morning both Alex and I jumped into the Smithers pool (although Alex’s pool was somehow waaaaaay hotter than mine) and then we took off to see how far we could roll ourselves closer to home.

We made a quick stop in Prince George, B.C.  Although it is a large centre all it had that we wanted – that Alison wanted – was another swim in a 50m pool.  Other than that our comments are few…

A province we haven't been in yet!

As we continued down the Yellowhead Hwy the sky continued to hang low blocking our view of…what? We will never know.  Around 10:00pm or so we were feeling tired and betrayed by the sun giving way to darkness!  The dark knight caught us by surprise!  We had left the days of the midnight sun.  Thus, the darkness made it hard for us to simply explore around for a camping spot so we paid $16 in nickels and dimes to the campground host at Mt. Robson Lucerne campground (it was cash only but luckily Alex hoards small coinage in his centre console).  It took me at least 5 minutes to count the little coins, carefully placing every dollar in one of Alex’s shoes, then asking the guy how much he would value the shoe as if we didn’t have enough change (heehee).  It was a beautiful campground though, and if it were any warmer that morning Alex and I would have jumped in the lake!

Finally reaching the Alaska border!

At any rate we were a mere 35km west of Jasper, so Alex rolled out in his favorite four-wheel machine and Alison rolled out on her favorite two-wheel machine to meet Ma and Pa Jackson in the Albertan mountain town.  It was wonderful reuniting with our B.C. parents over Bear Paw treats and coffees then traveling together to Edmonton where we shared a campsite together.

And then there it was: our last day of travel.  

We were in Edmonton for the day because Alison had some swim races and then hit the same 200km of Hwy 16 that we are all too familiar with, which stretches from Edmonton to the Farkash family Farm.  We got home in enough time to empty the truck, air out the tent, have a snack and flip through our trip pictures before we hit the sack

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We can’t wait to go back, but until then I’m excited for other places will we go to…

Adventure on!

A bumpy road behind us, smooth sailing ahead.

It would seem that the people of Northern British Columbia are at odds with the concept of road lines.  The Stewart-Cassiar Hwy seemed more to us like a well trodden goat trail than a major causeway of noteworthy acclaim.  The road leading south from Nugget City to Dease Lake reminded us of the bumpy portion of the Alaska highway between Haines Junction and Beaver Creek. The bumps which jarred our spines were not due to the ravaging forces of permafrost, but instead to poor road mainenance.  With its tight curves, pot holes, uneven gravel patches and grown in road sides the road wasn’t the most pleasant to drive.  With this experience accented by an irritating one sided confrontation with another motorist in the town of Dease Lake, our perception of the highway itself was not good to say the least.

In a brighter light, accompanied with sufficient sunlight the Stewart-Cassiar highway is wonderfully scenic and the area surrounding peppered with small, crystal clear lakes.  One of these lakes we were lucky enough to swim in; Boya Lake was the name and - boya, was it ever cold!  Never have we seen such a clear lake, it was a treat to take a dip, despite the frigid water.  Feeling young and rejuvenated we moved on down the road to our campsite for the night, where we slept a mere 8ft from the shore.   

If ever we were to wonder where all the mosquito’s in Alaska had gone, we would know where they were hiding, Dease Lake.  The mosquito population was likely worse than what we had seen in Prudhoe Bay.  When we battened down the hatches for the night we could hear the swarm’s dull hum from outside.  Through some hidden opening (or perhaps they entered with us) we were joined inside our tent by a sizable portion of the little devils.  Alison spent a good 20 minutes swatting and effectively painted the walls with mosquito guts before we attempted to sleep…well, I attempted to sleep.  Alison somehow passed out while I lay there first thinking about potential bears in the area then plagued by the buzzing of tiny wings near my ears for the remainder of the night.  Not a good night’s sleep. 

Tonight we stay just outside of Smithers, BC then hang out with Ma and Pa Jackson in Jasper for our last day of hard travel.

Adventure on!

South: it all feels downhill to me.

Phew! Back within Canadian borders!  From the beautiful little seaside town of Homer we have at last made it back into the homeland and plan to spend a night in Whitehorse yet again.  About 1400km’s was covered over the past two days with a short stop to wrangle in some “z’s” about 10miles outside of Glenallen.  The Richardson Hwy offered up some pretty awesome views of massive semi-dry riverbeds and a couple of slowly creeping glaciers.  Unfortunately when we stopped for the night near Glenallen on the Glenn Hwy the rain once again caught up with us and left us with little to amuse the eyes as we travelled north towards Tok - should have just kept on driving. From Tok it was a hop and a skip to the border which we passed through with ease.  Ironically, the minute we made it across the border it was as if the skies opened up and the sun popped its head out - simply heavenly - a sharp contrast to the foreboding effects cast upon us when we had entered the United States. 

The truck has been pestering Alex with its glaring check engine light and knocking suspension.  Tear-down and shop-time is inevitable upon return to farm ground.

All in all our travels have been long stretched and uneventful on our way south.  We had originally intended to make our way along the Denali Hwy and then onto  the Taylor highway to Dawson City, but due to time constraints we scrapped those plans, our sense of adventure has surrendered its position in our minds to anti-climax.  Hopefully as we head down the Stewart-Cassiar we will again be excited by not-yet-seen landscapes.  As for now, we rest and recuperate for the remainder of our journey.

Adventure on!

Falling on Hard Times

Misty mountains.

We did not successfully shed the overcast skies and misting rain that characterized these last few days of travel.  Fairbanks to – almost – Anchorage where we had to stop for the night, and from there to Homer produced a few uncomfortable days of poor training (Alison), truck-cabin fever (A&A), and rain that got stuck in my eyes (Alison).  All of this driving really started getting under my skin, in fact, Alex had a hard time with the long haul as well.  Needless to say, we have learned a lot about ourselves, each other and how we will plan our next adventure (waaay more hikes!!).

 Now let’s jump to our highest high:  Reaching the coast of Homer!

  

1lb of Alaskan King Crab looks something like this.

We camped on the beach of Homer Spit, which is an outcropping of land that extends out into Kachemak Bay (aka the Pacific Ocean).  The overcast skies lifted enough for us to appreciate the snow capped mountains on the other side of the bay while we enjoyed a windy but dry walk on the rocky beach.  It was here that Alex insisted on cracking open a few Alaskan King Crab legs out of the port that the famous Time Bandit from The Deadliest Catch TV show docks in.  I got to go for a bike ride and a swim (Thank God!!!) and we got to – after 5 days of no showers plus more since laundry – shower and wash our clothes (Halleluiah!!!!).

Our 1st and likely only fire. =(

Still a happy couple.

However, maybe we should have held off on the laundry, for despite setting up tarped coverings and our annex (extra covered room under the tent), the driving rain of the coast soaked our freshly laundered bags.  We packed up everything wet (what could we do?) and officially set out for home.

POW! POW!

What’s going to come at us next?

WHAM! BAM! HUA!

Adventure on!

There and Back Again: A Journey to the Top of the World

James. W Dalton Highway, the highway commonly referred to as the Haul Road is the stretch of patchwork asphalt and gravel that leads the 414 mile route to Prudhoe Bay/ Deadhorse Alaska from Fairbanks Alaska.

First Impression of the Dalton Highway:  “This is easy! Pavement and no real obstacles or debacles on the drive.  Mom! Dad! Bring your camper!”  Our first night we camped at a beautiful campground, Marion Creek.  This peaceful campsite is nestled in the serene mountain landscape of the Dalton Highway just outside of Coldfoot.  With the cedar scented outhouses, level and root free campsites it was an immediate winner.  We were joined by the gradually increasing number of mosquitoes, as what is to happen when traveling into the far north (thank God for our bug-spray which simply had them running into our faces but not biting).  

I (Alison) got Alex to climb to the top!

Second Impression of the Dalton Highway (at about 260 miles in or 418 km):  “Atigun Pass, pffft…more like the stairway to heaven, holy smokes that’s steep!” The Atigun Pass, a high and treacherous mountain pass guarding the way through the Brooks Range into the tundra.  As we climbed our little 3RZ couldn’t pump out enough power to keep us cruising along at the speed we had become accustomed to and we were forced to shift into third and settle for a slow climb of 40km/h; a considerably slower pace from our previous 110km/h on gravel roads!

Third Impression of the Dalton Highway (326 miles (524km) in and another 173 miles (278km) to Deadhorse): “Rain!” “Mud!” “Pot hole!”  “Big truck, big truck, big truck…” “My butt is sore.” MY butt is sore!” “Ee! Ah! Oh! P-p-pot holes!” “Whoa – look at that tundra – it just keeps going! Farther than Saskatchewan!!” In reality it was mostly Alex saying all this since Alison had started sawing logs in the passenger seat near the bottom of the Atigun Pass.

Not just a grassy field, it's wet delicate tundra

We arrived in Deadhorse at approximately 10 o’clock PM.  The weather was overcast and the temperature, on July 2^nd, was 1oCelsius and wet.  To be honest we couldn’t have asked for a better experience.  The cold made a challenge for us both.  As Alison attempted to prepare a quick meal she found that not only did she have to stand in the wind and with no cover,  water wouldn’t  boil near as quick therefore prolonging the food prep process, good thing she had finished knitting at least one mitten before arrival.  For Alex changing the oil in the truck was made difficult when fingers went numb and the inevitable bashing of knuckles began.  

All in all the experience was enriched by the little struggles and our memories are accented by the reward of falling into bed after a long day.

The morning after we awoke to more cold and had to pack quickly so as to arrive at our tour on time, 7am sharp.  Our tour which would eventually lead to the shores of the Arctic Ocean first allowed us a glimpse at the many incredible mining structures seated upon the Prudhoe Bay oil fields.  Giant self propelled drill platforms and pump houses riddle the 1000 acre facility with massive artery-like pipes leading from processing plant to processing plant.  The entire persona of Prudhoe Bay was completely alien to us, with the stilted and highly insulated pre-fabbed buildings it was like being transported into the future and we were on a different planet being shown a space station instead of an oil field operation.  

The Arctic Coast was bland and the water cold to say the least, nonetheless it was very exciting to be setting foot in an ocean that very few people see much less go in. 

After the tour we made a quick visit to the Deadhorse general store to procure evidence that we had indeed been there (two stickers, hooray!) and some snacks for the road.  We were both surprised by the fact that our meager goods did not amount to an outrageous price at the till, somehow inflation has no ravished the sale of goods that far north.  Our direct journey back down the 414miles to Fairbanks cost us an entire day of driving but was colored by the funny conversations between truckers on the CB radio.

To those seeking adventure and spectacular views and vistas we whole-heartedly suggest driving the Dalton Highway.  It can undoubtedly be treacherous at times but with a reasonably equipped vehicle and some common sense on the road a safe and successful journey can be had to the top of North America.

Hey! Our 9th moosie!

We’ve rested now in Fairbanks overnight and now head further south to Anchorage to enjoy another coast.   

Until then…

Adventure on!