July 2023

 

 

We started July in Fairbanks, Alaska, staying in a house near the airport.  We didn’t find any exciting trails but had kept ourselves fit with a daily walk through local woods.  Our first attempt was rather wet underfoot but managed to find a slightly higher route so stuck to that.   

On Sunday 2^rd, we went to the Museum of the North, which had some good exhibits about local wildlife, geology and people, including the tale of the Aleut people evacuated ‘for their own safety’ during WW2 and interned in logging camps that were never meant for year-round occupation.

Elsie and bear looking pensive.

4th July, we went into the city centre and had a walk along the Chena river, with a lunchtime concert by local jazz musicians at Golden Heart Plaza with various memorials to local pioneers and commemoration of the lend-lease link to Russia in WW2.

Locals at the park.

Off again on the 6^th for the final stage of our trip North.  We had been warned that the last 500 miles would be arduous, but we have seen worse.  Much of it was unpaved but, largely, it was flat and keeping a steady 50 MPH wasn’t a problem.  There was one 20 mile stretch, near the start of the Dalton Highway, of continuous roadwork, where we had to travel in convoy and were fortunate to catch one that was just leaving.  Where there were holes in the unmade bits, they were fairly easy to see and avoid and not too bad if you had to drive over.  Faults in the paved sections were worse as it was difficult to see if the black bits were recent patches or still holes.  If the latter, they could be deep and hard edged.  We hit a couple that, if we were on low-profile tyres, could have done serious damage to them or even the rims.

Crossing the arctic circle.

Halfway point is Coldfoot, basically a truck-stop on one side of the highway and a visitor centre on the other.  We stopped at that and learned a bit more about the Alaska pipeline.  A few facts:

800 miles long, from Prudhoe bay to Valdez.  48” I.D. pipe with insulation and outer sheathing.  The oil starts out at about 150 F and cools to about 50 F by the time it arrives about 2 weeks later.  It is only being pumped at about ¼ the original rate so, presumably, used to get there rather quicker and hotter.

About half the length is buried; the other half being mounted well above ground on pilings.  These are refrigerated passively to avoid melting the permafrost which starts anything from a few inches to a few feet beneath the surface and can be 2000 ft thick.

Pipeline

Our night stop was at Wiseman, just across the river, in a log cabin, sleeping on a mattress on the mezzanine. Very comfortable but one had to be quick between car and cabin to dodge the mosquitoes.

Miles of mud

The last leg of the journey took us across the Brooks mountain range and the Atigun pass.  This was steep and muddy, so were very grateful for 4WD.  How the many on motorcycles or even push bikes manage, I don’t know.  We had been told that we would see more wildlife on the North Slope but only saw one black bear, one caribou and one muskox.  (We had to check-up on the last as Elsie thought that they might be mythical or extinct.  She wasn’t entirely wrong as the have had to be re-introduced to the area.)

Mobile rig.

We had elected to stay for 2 nights at a little camp at Deadhorse which had cooking and laundry facilities.  These were ok but we were in single cabins and shared the kitchen space with workers who were not working because of the rain. One of them did explain some of the operations. The heavy equipment can only be moved around in winter, once the permafrost has re-established.  They allow 8” of snow to fall then spray it with brackish water to form an even ice sheet capable of taking the weight of the big rigs.

Tractors ready for winter use on ice roads

We went for a walk along the lakeshore on arrival, covered in spray to keep the mosquitoes at bay.  The scale and quantity of the oilfield equipment was impressive with many vehicles and other bits of kit that I had not seen before in warmer zones.  Most of the buildings are built on piles and, like the pipeline, have refrigeration to stop them from melting the permafrost.

Workers camp on piles.

On Saturday, we took the bus tour to the Arctic Ocean.  From 22 C and sunshine the day before, it had dropped to 4 C and drizzle.  Through this and misted bus windows, the view wasn’t great but at least we made it to a rather unprepossessing beach.  I had a quick dip, just to say I’d done it.

Prohoe's answer to Bournemouth's beach huts.

Elsie deciding that she is not going for a dip.

On the way back through the industrial area, Elsie spotted a bear.  Yes, a large grizzly, wandering a few feet away from where we had been nonchalantly wandering the previous afternoon.  We had a further drive round the town in the afternoon.

Bear strolling through Deadhorse.

Sunday, of course, dawned a lot brighter and warmer but it was time to start heading South.  Back to the same cabin at Wiseman then, on Monday, to Fairbanks, staying at a very nice Airbnb. 

Cleaning mud off the rear lights.

It had been our intention to stay in the village of North Pole, 20 miles SE of Fairbanks, but had been persuaded that, although most of the road through the park was closed, we should visit Denali NP so, on Tuesday we drove the couple of hours on the Anchorage road, had a wander round the visitor centre and then took the 4 ½ hour bus tour.  Most of this was through pine forest, though it did open up for the last 10 miles or so to the turn point.  Wildlife? We saw a fox (reasonably close) a couple of sheep far up a hill, some ptarmigan and a Caribou.  The driver also pointed to the bit of cloud which was in the direction of Denali itself.  Probably the most underwhelming of the many National Parks we have visited.  We did get to overnight in a very nice little cabin 20 miles South of the Park entrance.

Caribou.

Going by this route meant that we would have to traverse across to the Fairbanks – Valdez road.  We knew that is was winding and unmade and, as it was another damp day, we feared that we would be up in the clouds for most of it.  As it turned out, it was at lowish level, well maintained and we had some very nice views across tundra to misty mountains and glaciers.  We were making good progress until 60 miles North of Valdez where we ran into extensive roadworks which added 40 minutes to the journey. 

Lake above Valdez.

In  Valdez, we were staying in the A Frame house belonging to our hosts from a week before in Fairbanks.  It was very comfortable and gave us a nice base for the next couple of days.  On Thursday, we went on separate walks – Elsie round the town and I up a hill to the South of the harbour, with a nice view across a lake as a reward at the top. On Friday, we walked round the town and visited the museum, which is spread over 2 sites, the main  theme being the earthquake of 1964, which reduced much of the original town to rubble.

Rather than drive round to our next stop at Anchorage, we had booked the ferry to Whittier, which meant rising at 04:30.  It would be worth it for the view of the coast.  Unfortunately, we rose to light rain and fog.  This latter lifted a bit and we got dim views of the land but did see lots of sea otters and bergy bits from the Columbia Glacier. 

Bergy bit

Whittier is a strange place.  It was built in 1943 as a deep water port to ship war materials, a 4 mile tunnel being needed to run a rail line through to Anchorage. Although a lot of freight still passes through, it is now mainly used as a passenger terminal for cruise liners.  The residents of the town all stay in one large tower block.  

Tunnel entrance.

Where the locals live.

 We drove through the tunnel with a vague hope that it would be a little drier on the other side so that we could visit the wildlife rescue centre but, if anything, it was heavier so we continued on to our Airbnb in Anchorage.  Having had an early start, we had an early night.  At 10:30, I got an alarm warning of an imminent tsunami.  Hanging my phone out of the window confirmed our altitude as 60 feet above sea level and close examination of the tsunami alert site showed we were just beyond the edge of the affected area, so headed back to bed.  Minutes later, the alert was cancelled.  Elsie, of course, slept through it all.

Blue arrow shows our location.

 

It continued to rain in varying intensity for the next couple of days so, apart from walks timed for the lighter periods, we didn’t do much sight-seeing.  Dora got an oil change. 

From Anchorage, North East again to Tok.  First half of the journey was mostly on unpaved road past Glacier view, followed by 15 miles on the Valdez – Fairbanks road then the 125 miles of the Tok cutoff road.  We managed a little walk just before arrival at the Golden Bear Motel where we dined in on cold roast pork salad, elegantly served on DIY foil plates.

Supper.

More unpaved road the next day on the ‘Top of the World’ highway back into Canada and Dawson City.  Delay at the border as the agent couldn’t accept that US border officials no longer stamp passports so she had no way of knowing our US travel history and therefore whether we would be re-admitted.  Had to dig out old emails from airlines to show our flights.  Further slow progress as visibility dropped to 10 metres in thick fog / cloud.  No road markings and we knew that there were big drops, so walking pace until we descended below cloud base. 

When out of phone signal, sat-nav timings are approximate so I wasn’t surprised to see that we still had an hour to run when only 25 miles out.  When 4 miles and 35 minutes to go, we finally twigged tat there was a ferry across the Yukon river.  It seemed that we had timed it well as there was one just arriving with us but it was too small to take all the waiting traffic and we had to wait 30 minutes for the next.  That left us 90 minutes to visit the museum which, with a talk, a film and a look at exhibits was just about right.

'At an old saloon on a street of mud...'

Dawson city is, of course, synonymous with the Klondike gold rush and the whole town is a theme park.  A few original buildings remain but many more are reproductions. Unpaved roads, with raised boardwalks are just as practical now as they were in the 19^th century and add to the aura.

Downtown Hotel

 

We dined at the Downtown Hotel but did not partake of sourtoe cocktails.  Then on to ‘Diamond Tooth Gerties’ for a song and dance show.  A walk above the town on Thursday was followed by a drive out to an active placer gold mine where, after a talk by the owner, we got to practice panning for gold with prepared samples of a pound or so of dirt, including coaching from the reigning Yukon champion (who knew that it was a competitive sport?).  We took about 20 minutes, standing in the stream to reveal our 4 or 5 small flakes.  She can go through 5 lbs in about 2 minutes; the world champions can do it in a minute.

Panning

In the pan.

Gold!

Before we left on Friday, we took a walking tour round some of the historical buildings: a bank, a bar and the post office.  Some of the original buildings have slowly sunk as the permafrost beneath has melted over the years.

That sinking feeling.

Then it was South again, almost to Whitehorse, staying in a very nice apartment in a converted barn for 3 nights.  We had brought just enough supplies for one night so went into Whitehorse on Saturday.  A pleasant walk, partly on a paved trail; partly up a hill, and then a look round the SS Klondike, a paddle steamer which plied the Yukon in the early 20^th Century.  Sunday, a forest walk and an afternoon of trying, and failing to plan the last leg of our journey from Reno to San Diego. There are so many things to see and some of them are on different sides of big ranges of mountains.

From Whitehorse back down to Watson Lake, staying in the same hotel as before.  A walk through the town brought us to 'The Signpost Forest'. A homesick WW2 soldier, among those constructing the Alaska Highway, added a sign pointing to his home town. Others followed suit, then visitors started adding theirs.  Thousands have now been collected and displayed in the town.

Signposts

   

 A brief backtrack the next morning then down highway 37 to stay for 2 nights at a cabin in the woods near Dease Lake.  This was completely off grid, with a 1 ring gas stove and 12V lights.  The outhouse was a 20 metre dash away.  As she washed at the kitchen sink on the second morning, Elsie remarked how reminiscent it was of the 5 years we spent on Ruby and that, maybe, we moved on from her at the right time.

Cosy cabin.

A long drive on Thursday 27^th to South Hazelton.  Again staying in an Airbnb.  A gentle day on Friday, just going for a couple of walks to see a waterfall, hike round a lake and, in the afternoon, to visit a local ‘First Nation’ site with a small museum.  To get there had to cross a fairly spectacular single lane bridge, so stopped to look at the canyon beneath it on the way back.

View from bridge.

Further South and East on Saturday to Prince George, pausing for a walk at Smithers.  A basement Airbnb for 2 nights.  We went for a walk in a local park on Sunday morning.  As we were in the city, I didn’t bother taking the bear spray. Of course, this was the first time that we have seen a bear while actually walking.

South again on Monday via the Cariboo road to Lillooet visiting Elsie's cousin Chellie and husband Don. The last part of the journey down Marble Canyon very scenic but rather smoky from forest fires.  

Mile 0 in Lillooet.

July route.

Monthly miles:  4098