Monday 14th April, Sutton, Alaska, Last installment (?)

So. We've been here 48 hours. Most of the boxes are unpacked. The new house looks a bit like a home. The phone service (and DSL) has been ordered; meanwhile site wireless is reaching the house so I can blog. Overnight, it snowed a couple of inches, but the temperature rose to freezing point by mid-day today, and remains there, or just above, right now.

In total, we covered 3308 miles. We drove from dawn to dusk most days. I haven't added up how many hours that is, but it's a lot. By Saturday evening, even though we had stopped moving, I still felt like I was moving gently up and down - not unlike after you've been on a boat for a while. At least it was only the first night that I dreamt of being on a kind of roller-coaster where the world kept flashing before you, and you had to keep the thing on its tracks!



I guess the whole business of travelling long distances for new work/new life is deep in the American psyche. Especially heading West, pioneer style. I still can't quite imagine how people did that, centuries ago. The remarkable thing about the Alaska highway, perhaps, is that it was built only 60 years ago. The communities along the road are only that old (or younger). People don't live out there because their families always have; for the most part, they have chosen to live on that road, where your nearest neighbour could be an hour or two's drive away; your nearest doctor, many hours away; and where snow can make the road, well, tricky, for at least half of the year (though we were assured that it "never shuts"). Isn't the breadth of human existence and aspiration fascinating?!

I'm full of awe for the engineering work of the highway: surveying the route, choosing a line; constructing the road; maintaining it in the face of serious adverse conditions. Sure, it's imperfect - it felt like some of those bumps were bound to detach the trailer from the car - but essentially, it's a real feat, a mighty achievement. I'm also mindboggled by the photos of people making the trip in the 1940s and 1950s, when the road was much more narrow and bumpy than it is today, and when vehicle construction (reliability, and suspension systems) was much poorer. We had an easy run, by any estimation.

Here at the camp, they say it's a miracle that we passed the trip with no mechanical problems, and not even a flat tyre, nor any hassles at customs. Apparently, such a delay-free trip is almost unheard-of. Well, we're grateful for what we found. It would have been nice to see some more wildlife - though faced with a choice of perhaps hitting a large creature, or not seeing any, I suppose I would choose the latter. The bison were an incredible sight, nonetheless.

I looked this morning at the number of "hits" the blog got over the weekend, and was staggered by the numbers. I hope it has been informative. To anyone with an urge to drive the Alaska highway, I'd say "do it". Make sure you have a well-maintained vehicle, of course, and follow all the other good advice available on the web. Make sure too that you travel with someone you can bear to be with on the road for days on end: it's a long and winding road! But the experience is surely memorable, and the sights staggering. I'm really glad to have had the opportunity.

Saturday 12th April, Sutton, Alaska.

We arrived. Reflections on the whole trip to come later: here's day five.

Last night, we miscalculated rather: it was light until maybe 10pm, but we stopped quite early at Destruction Bay. This morning, the sunrise wasn't due until 6.45am. We set off around 6.30am - dawn was certainly happening, but it was snowing lightly!

How different the road looked in snow. It was just a light dusting, and the ground was cold enough that it was not particularly slippery. But it did make the carriageway (pavement, in American) look quite different, and a little disconcerting to an Englishman no longer used to seeing snowy roads. We made fair progress over it, slipping slightly only once.

We did encounter a bridge construction project, with a severely rough road. It shook the whole vehicle quite a bit - we feared for the picture frames riding in the back, but in the end they don't seem to have fared too badly. Even where the road wasn't being re-made, it needed it. There were jumps and holes and "frost-heaves" galore.
Some were marked with an orange flag; most were not. Some even gave rise to a "rough road" symbol, though those weren't necessarily the bad ones. The snow on the road made it harder to judge the worst of the holes.

The snow kept falling as we reached the Alaskan border. The US border guard didn't seem particularly happy to see us, but sent us on our way quickly enough, with only a handful of questions. It must be a lonely job up there, especially at this time of year: we saw probably just a couple of vehicles per hour actually on the highway
that crossed the border.

On the whole, the roads were much improved when we reached Alaska. The snow kept falling until we turned off the Alaska Highway onto the Glenn Highway - the road to Anchorage. Gradually, the cloud lifted, and as we drove the last 100 or so miles to sutton, the sun came out. The views on that last leg are as impressive as anything we'd seen, with a mighty glacier filling the valley below us.

A warm welcome awaited us at the camp, with about six or so pairs of hands helping us to unload the trailer really quickly. The house is now full of boxes. Some are even in the right rooms.

Two very tired travellers will sleep soundly tonight, I think.


Statistics

Miles covered today: 446

Fuel purchased: 46.25 gal, at a cost of $200.

Listening

The Arctic Monkeys, various compilations, Fat and Frantic

Friday 11th April. Destruction Bay, Yukon. 7.20pm

You know you're in Canada when two of the ten hotel room TV channels are showing ice hockey. And you spend a whole day seeing snowy-topped mountains and fir trees. And you see dozens of buffalo.

Yep. The Milepost keeps warning the driver to beware wildlife, but we kept failing to see any. Then Andy spotted a buffalo [or is it a bison?] in the trees. We stopped the vehicle and went back to take photos. Man, that's a big beast. A big, wild beast. We wanted to get close, to get photos ... but no doubt it could crush you if it so chose. Then we drove on, and saw more. Then more. Then a whole herd. Awesome.

It's been another day of superb weather. It's amazing to see how the warming sun has made most of the highway really clean and dry ... then a few shaded valleys still have ice on the road shoulders, and a road surface of uncertain material - just wet, it seems, but it could easily be icy. It's certainly early spring in the Yukon: many rivers are still frozen, and many lakes - though no longer strong enough to bear a load, I'd guess. The Alaska highway stays open all year, but I don't think I'd want to come through any earlier in the season.

The Yukon is really isolated. I've been to outback Australia, and this compares. Once in western Australia, we travelled many hours without seeing another soul, car, house, or whatever: the Alaska highway isn't quite like that - we'll see a car or truck every ten minutes or so. But there certainly are not too many people around at this time of year.

Today, we found several fuel stops in succession closed, too, which started to be a concern. We've been following the wisdom of planning to "travel on the top of the tank", though, and so never really been too close to a problem. It doesn't do to drive past a fuel stop up here without buying some, though!

You can see from the map pins above that our journey is approaching its end. Barring problems, we should reach our destination tomorrow afternoon. We hoped to be nearer the border tonight, but it didn't seem wise to press on - the next accommodation is probably well over two hours ahead. Dusk is a bad time to spot the pot-holes, and the livestock on the road...

Statistics:


Miles covered: 620. Still to go: 483 miles.

Fuel purchased: 87 gallons
[not sure of the price; PocketExcel ate my data.]

Listening: Duran Duran, Crowded House, Madness, Rob Bell - Sermon


[Side note: because this is published on the internet, and because I don't know exactly who may be reading, I've largely been avoiding naming my friends, giving their details, etc., out of courtesy to them. That might make the writing sound rather "me"-centric. Sorry about that - no narcissism is intended!]

Thursday 10th April, Toad River, British Columbia. 8.30pm

Well, I came to see the Rockies, mountains, trees, snow. I wasn't disappointed. Today has been an awesome day.

We set off from Stony Plains - just outside Edmonton - at about 6.40am, in rather heavy fog. That didn't bode well, and we made slow progress, but the fog lifted after about an hour, and left us with clear blue skies, and a few puffy clouds. The weather forecast offered a 40% chance of rain/snow, but we just had sun all day!

It did get colder, though, as we headed relentlessly northwest. Gradually, the grassy and stubbly uplands we had seen south of Edmonton were punctuated with more and more trees. Not many were evergreen, so right now they were pretty brown.

Soon after mid-day, we reached Dawson Creek. Mile zero of the famous Alaska Highway. Fuel and burgers got us ready for the big adventure, and we got some Canadian Dollars, too, just in case we encountered places along the road that didn't want to take plastic. [Aside: what is it with Canada and Mastercard? There are almost no Visa-friendly ATMs.] The exchange rate between the CAN$ and US$ is more-or-less 1:1 at the moment, which was a surprise.

So the highway began - with a roundabout, of all things! That's a traffic circle or rotary, for the American readers - a rarity indeed in North America, but a common sight in England. The highway began with a few pot-holes, just to get you in the mood, but thereafter, the road was really quite excellent: another fear largely laid to rest.

We brought along a copy of The Milepost, which proved a great guide. Not only does it tell you where you can buy fuel along the way (important news when the gaps can be as big as 100 miles, and we're getting on the order of 200 miles from a tankful!), it also warns of gravel, steep inclines, scenic overlooks, and the like.

You know the hill is going to be steep when there is a large parking area at the top for trucks to install compulsory snow-chains (thankfully not needed in April!) and to check brakes. There were quite a few of these. And that means a steep incline on the other side, too. The vehicle was certainly put through its paces today. At one point, late in the afternoon, it seemed as if there was smoke coming from the back, but we think it was dust thrown up from the road. Tomorrow will tell.

The first part of the highway was fairly busy - not crowded, but with plenty of traffic. After the two major towns - Fort St John and Fort Nelson - it thinned out a lot, and we got to the point where we'd go 20 minutes without seeing a car or truck.

There's a heap of photos on the Picassa site now. Sorry they're not edited, cropped, enhanced, etc. I fear that kind of thing will have to wait for when I have more time (maybe in Alaska, at the present rate of progress!). They convey something of the spectacular scenery, anyway. The Milepost kept warning of wildlife (moose, caribou, deer, horses) on the road, but we saw none. Finally, towards dusk, we saw some caribou (probably) in a field beside the road: they do exist!




Statistics

Miles covered: 732. 1119 to go.

Fuel purchased: 107 gal. at a cost of $520.

Listening: Newsboys, Phil Collins, various compilations, Top 25 UK worship songs, Nicole Norderman

Wednesday 9th April, Stony PLains, Alberta. 9pm

So this is Canada. It took a while to get here.

We set off from the motel early, again: 6.20am, but without any breakfast on offer. We thought we might find some on the road, but few places were open (then again, most fuel places were closed by 8pm last night, too). We got coffee and rice crispy bars when we filled up with gas. We made good progress against the sat-nav (GPS) predictions, shaving an hour or so off the ETA for Edmonton.

Then we hit the queue for the Canadian border. This had been a big concern: having to unpack and re-pack the trailer would be a serious problem. The queue took us about 1h45 to get to the head of the line. Then, after a little banter with the border guard (he said the kids should be taught to cheer for the Gunners :-) ), we were into Canada: no real hassle at all!

Canadian roads are similar, but different somehow. The main road goes through the middle of many of the towns along the way. That slows you down. There seemed to be fewer significant hills north of the border: that's good, because the trailer really slows you down on the hills. We were playing cat and mouse with other vehicles all day: we'd pass them, then they'd overtake us on the uphills, and so on. But despite fewer hills, the fuel economy didn't improve...

The sat-nav didn't really like the road to Edmonton: it kept suggesting we were in the fields beside the road. And then it took us around some building sites instead of the Edmonton ring-road. Hey ho. Now we've found a motel on the westward route we will take in the morning.

Tomorrow, we should reach the famous Alaska Highway.

Stats of the day:

Miles covered: 641 1895 to go.

Gasoline purchased: 95.1 gallons, costing around $422.

Listening: Acapella Worship, Delirious, Matt Redman, Fat and Frantic, The Automatic, Phillips,Craig&Dean.

Tuesday 8th Apr Harlowtown, Montana. 9:10pm

[uploaded late: no internet yesterday]

Day one of the drive. We set off from the farm around 6.30am - just
on dawn. The trailer didn't seem too happy at first: maybe it was
cold; maybe it just didn't like the country roads. We quickly started
to beat the sat-nav: the ETA for Spikefish (the far side of South
Dacota) started out as 14:30, but we eventually passed there about an
hour earlier than that.

South Dacota started out like Iowa: fallow corn fields, waiting for
spring poughing and seeding. But the farmscape gave way to grassy
uplands after a while, with a major river crossing at the Missouri
marking a big shift in the scenery. Stopping for gas, we worked out
that we were managing about 7 miles per gallon. Ouch!

South Dacota turned into Wyoming, and it was my turn to drive. As the
road got higher and higher, the snow beside the road was more and more
widespread. Then we encountered sleet, and eventually a little snow.
This passed quickly, and soon the sun was shining again on dry roads.

The photos tell their own story of the journey, really. [note: limited
internet access may mean photos don't get up loaded until later]
Around tea-time, we crossed into Montana. This offered more of the
same scenery, but just on dusk we started to encounter deer beside the
road, and sometimes in it! They're quite a hazard, and a good reason
not to drive at dusk...

So now, we're in a motel in Harlowtown, claiming to offer internet
access... but evidently not from our room!

Stats of the day: 869 miles. Fuel purchased: 127.3 gal, costing $433.

2514 miles to go.

Listening: Sting, Eric Clapton, U2, Beatles, Madness.

Le Mars, Iowa. Monday 7th April. 4.20pm

So, the flights went smoothly, and here I am in Iowa. Yesterday, many at church wished us well. The prayer points were for mechanical safety, fair weather, and not too many hold-ups at customs.

Looking at the route now in detail, things don't look so bad. The north of Canada is still experiencing snowfalls, but the temperatures are breaking above freezing most days. There are few roadworks reported on the Alaskan highway, though a section of "Rough & narrow and dusty sections will be encountered. Watch for fallen rocks on roadway." sounds less than perfect.

Today, we ran some errands, loaded the remaining belongings into the SUV, and took the whole lot out for a test-drive. We both took turns: everything seemed to go fine. Then we went and filled up with gasoline. Well, $100-worth (the max allowed) didn't quite fill the tank!

This being a small town, the adventure being undertaken even attracts the local press: we had photos taken this afternoon, and the story checked...

So, we're all ready for the off. At dawn tomorrow.