Alaska!! (The First 50 Feet)

Days 30 & 31. Wednesday, May 20 & Thursday, May 21.


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Here's where things got dicey.

We started the day very early by dropping off Andy, Melissa, and Clara at the airport in Whitehorse, about an hour drive from Spirit Lake. We ran some errands in Whitehorse - oil change, laundry, and a little nap in the Wal-Mart parking lot - before setting out for Alaska. The goal for the day was to make it to Tok, Alaska, about a 7 and a half hour drive.




The drive went slow; the road conditions between Whitehorse and the Alaska border were pretty rough. A lot of the pavement was crumbling and, because the road is built on permafrost, several seasons of temperature changes causes the road to buckle into waves called frost heaves. All of this is bad in any car but just brutal in an RV. Eventually the roads deteriorate enough to where they need to be re-paved, and are first taken back to dirt. This was actually the best conditions we saw for long stretches since the dirt can be leveled. But we kept on moving, the scenery was unbelievable, and we saw a couple porcupines along with another great bear sighting.




We were about forty miles from the Alaska border, it was getting late, and things got bad. Harvey stared... acting up. The constant breaking and accelerating up and down hills on the terrible roads caused the transmission to overheat and begin to slip. We pulled over to the side of the road and proceeded to freak out.

To give you an idea of how remote this place is, the Yukon has a population of around 33,000 with over two-thirds living in Whitehorse. That leaves somewhere around 11,000 people dispersed throughout the rest of the territory, an area larger than California.

So we were on the side of the Alaska Highway, no cell phone reception, bad transmission, and, oh yeah, my mom was about seven hours from boarding a plane in Michigan to meet us in Anchorage the following day. The next town on the map was about twenty miles away and was the last one we would pass in the Yukon - the border town of Beaver Creek. We doubted there would be a garage there, but at least we could find a phone. A car passing by to see if we were alright told us that, yes, there was a garage in Beaver Creek, so we decided to go for it.

It was a terrifying 17 miles and the transmission had cooled but was still slipping a little; but we managed to limp into Beaver Creek and found the shop: Far West Garage. Of course it was closed for the night but the woman in the general store next door said he opened at 8 in the morning and she let us park in one of the few RV sites behind the store. Best of all, though, this tiny town actually had a cell phone tower and I was able to get through to my mom. We didn't really know what was going to happen, but we were determined to get on with the trip and told her we would meet her in Anchorage, still a nine hour drive away.

The shop was supposed to open a eight, so we got up at seven thirty to check if anyone was in early... checked again at eight... nine... ten... I called every number on the side of the building. Nothing. The woman at the general store called his wife. Nothing. (we later learned they were on vacation) At about noon we felt we had little choice but to press our luck some more. We'd made it this far, right? The Alaska border was 19 miles away, the next shop, in Tok, was 112.

Harvey limped, and limped, and eventually started coughing smoke and made it all the way to the Alaska border; and that's as far as he would go. US customs is about a quarter mile past the border up a hill. Harvey made it about half way up that hill. Reverse worked tough, and I was able to get down the hill and roll backwards into the turn-off where people stop to have their pictures taken at the border. The photo at the beginning of this post was taken with Harvey completely inoperable. Fifty feet past the border. Pretty awesome, huh?

Soooo... we no longer had cell phone signals and we needed to get up to customs. Two couples caravaning with their travel trailers offered to give us rides up to customs, and Casey and I were sworn back into the United States in separate vehicles with complete strangers with the RV and dogs technically still in Canada. Canadogs. We hopped out of our cars and proceeded to hang out at the border crossing for the rest of the day. The border agents weren't the nicest people but they were nice enough to let us hang out and use the pay phone to stage our rescue (during our many hours there I read that they are actually obligated to help those in trouble so, in conclusion, they were just dicks).

The pay phone didn't accept quarters, wouldn't take credit cards, and had no number for incoming calls, but did make toll free calls and I got in touch with AAA for them to start working on a towing option. That option was Willard, he was in Tok and had the only garage within several hundred miles with a wrecker big enough for Harvey. Tok was 93 miles away and AAA covered towing up to 100 miles. Score. For whatever reason Willard's line was busy and it took a couple hours to get through but eventually
he was on his way. In the meantime, I called my dad collect to give the family the update and relay the status to my mom who would be arriving in Anchorage and getting a hotel room before we even got to Tok.

Also while we waited I found time to don my new Hawaii shirt and board shorts for the awesomest photo shoot ever.





Willard finally arrived around 7PM with his wife, Yolanda, following in a minivan to transport us and the Canadogs. Willard, a man of few words, hooked up Harvey to the rig and we were off. We made it all this way and the first 93 miles of Alaska were by tow truck.



I elected to ride in the wrecker with Willard and talk to him about our options. He told me he actually had two rebuilt transmissions on-hand at his shop for just such an occasion (this type of thing isn't terribly uncommon). How long would he need to do the work? About half a day. We might get to Anchorage sometime tomorrow!

We arrived in Tok sometime around eleven and Yolanda (a very pleasant and chatty Mexican woman who had been in Alaska over twenty years) took us to the Burnt Paw. Awesome name for a bar but it's actually a sled dog themed motel where we rented the "Iditarod" cabin for the night and I was able to finally call my mom who was now only six hours away.

The Yukon Experience

Days 28 and 29. Monday, May 18 and Tuesday, May 19.


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This was a pretty amazing part of the trip. The Yukon just feels like raw wilderness with a single two lane road cut across it. Much of its development over the past fifty years is solely from the Alaska Highway.

From our campground, we had a six hour drive to out destination for the next two days. Casey and I saw a picture of Emerald Lake in a brochure while researching for the trip and decided we had to go there. The picture was breathtaking, but it didn't compare with seeing it in person.



There are no campgrounds on the lake in fact there seems to be just one house on the lake. One house! What the hell's that all about??

Anyway, we did find a place to stay on Emerald Lake's sister lake, Spirit lake, which is not quite as dramatic but is off the road and has canoe access.




We took it easy for the rest of the evening and made buffalo burgers for dinner, followed by euchere. We were hoping to be able to catch the northern lights at some point on the trip, but as we discovered it just doesn't get dark enough. The following picture was taken at 12:45 AM.



We had big plans for the morning. Andy and I took a canoe out onto Spirit Lake and did some real fishing - and I only have two words for that...

TROUT SLAYERS!



This was so much fun. We caught three total - two for me one for Andy who got the big one - all in the first hour of being out there. It was like one of those Bass Masters shows. We even had a golden eagle fly out and circle us for about five minutes obviously trying to see how it's done. That was pretty amazing, I wasn't able to take a picture though because we were too busy slayin' trout!

We wrapped it up after a while and before lunch Andy and I went back down to the lake shore to clean the fish. We took turns each cleaning the fish we caught while the other was on bear watch. We threw the remains back into the lake not to attract any wildlife. (more on this later)

After lunch Casey and I took the canoe back out on the lake for some sightseeing while Andy, Melissa, and Clara sat on the dock and we communicated by walkie-talkie. While we were out there we saw a mother black bear and two cubs way up on the hill (too far for a good photo), a bald eagle soaring, and two moose who had come down to the lake to drink.




After that we came in to give the trio on shore a turn, which was adorable...




Unfortunately, Clara wasn't a fan of the canoe so the excursion didn't last long. However, during that time something incredible happened and Casey and I had the wildlife sighting of the trip. We were standing on the dock watching the lake and heard some twigs breaking behind us. I figured it was a person, but I turned around to make sure it wasn't a bear. It was neither. It was a lynx. This thing came right out form the area where Andy and I had cleaned the fish, it stalked low in the weeds in the direction of the dock, up the hill away from us after it saw us and across the path leading down to where we were. It was about thirty feet from us and I had the camera handy.





At that time the SS Clara was returning and Andy spotted the lynx on his own in the woods, and when Clara yelled something it ran off. So let that be a lesson to us all: when heading out into lynx-infested wilderness bring a baby for protection.

We were all pretty wound up from the sighting after that and decided to seek the shelter of the RV after that. We took it easy and had a delicious grilled trout dinner before calling it an early night as Andy, Mel, and Clara had an early flight out of Whitehorse in the morning.

Having these three adventurers join us on the trip was such a treat. We drove through some of the most remote wilderness any of us will ever see in a twenty-year-old motor home packed to the ceiling with four adults and a baby and had a fantastic time. After this, Harvey seemed invincible... right?

The Road Less Traveled By

Days 26 and 27. Saturday, May 16 and Sunday, May 17.


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There are two ways to get to Alaska by car: the Alaskan Highway and the Stewart-Cassiar Highway. The latter is shorter and more scenic, but much less popular as it has been in didn't become a highway until the mid seventies. It's development has been slow and there are still a couple of section that are not paved. The condition of the road was a big question, and we got conflicting reports based on who we asked. I guess we'd have to check it out ourselves.



Seeley Lake, where we stayed the previous night was very close to the beginning of the 725 km highway and we were able to get an early start. From the beginning, the roads were excellent and remained so for most of the day. It looked like the southern half of the highway has recently been re-surfaced and what google maps said was going to be a seven hour drive only took five.

The scenery was very rugged; most of the lakes were frozen and the trees were tall and imposing along the road. I was expecting large panoramic views but those never developed; instead the road was cut through the wilderness and between the mountains.

Due to this road having fewer travelers, wildlife viewing is a main attraction, and that did not disappoint. Because of how the tress were so dense, the wildlife is often right by the road or along the rivers as we crossed them. Not long before lunch we had our first sighing of a family of black bears and soon after that we saw another.






We stopped at Bell II (not sure what Bell I is) for a much needed tank of gas and lunch. We played around on the snow banks and noticed a ton of hummingbirds at feeders lining the entrance to the lodge.




We continued our drive with eyes peeled and finally got a good look at some moose as we crossed a bridge. I pulled over and Andy and I jumped out quickly; as soon as the moose saw us they took off (a moose whisperer, I am not), but Andy was able to get some good shots of them.




We stopped for the evening in Iskut, which is not much of a town, at an RV park that I was referred to because I think it was the only place open at the time. The setting of the park was amazing, right on the north shore of Kinaskan Lake. The management... not amazing. Filthy and racist, but not amazing. But we had our pick of the place and parked along the shore to isolate ourselves as much as possible and as I was on my last six pack of Sierra Nevada Torpedoes, I decided to chill them beer commercial style.





The second day on the Cassiar Highway was not nearly as smooth. We awoke to snow falling and couldn't see anywhere across the lake. Not sure how bad it was, we packed slowly to head north. At that time the only other person at the park was pulling back in and told us the has to turn around because the weather was too bad to the north.

More euchre!

Around noon the weather started to clear up and we decided to brave the roads. It was a bit tense, but after we cleared the pass we felt easier. The road itself, however, was day-and night from the first half. It was tore up pretty bad and the dirt sections clearly hadn't been maintained in a long time. It kicked my ass.

We did see a few more bear and moose, but not as clearly as the day before. One bear was brown in color and although black bears can be brown it didn't look like one to me; it may have been a brown bear or grizzly. You be the judge.



Just before the end of the highway where it intersects with the Alaskan Highway, we passed into the the Yukon Territory. Now that's the real north! And not long after that we were greeted by our first Caribou along the road.



We stopped for the night at Big Creek Campground, one of several government campgrounds they keep well maintained along the highways and you pay by the honor system. Very nice.




All in all the highway was a great experience and we drove it for the sake of driving it. Would I do it again? Maybe. Maybe not. I think it would depend on if I were in an H2 or H3 (not an '89 motorhome).

Lower British Columbia

Days 22 through 25. Tuesday, May 12 through Friday May 15.


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With a fully loaded RV, and a baby strapped in and riding shotgun the five (and a half) of us set out from vancouver to the North. The first leg was up to Whistler for lunch to check out the village and see if any thing was happening for the upcoming Winter Olympics. What we saw on the way, other than the beautiful drive along Howe Sound) was construction, and a lot of it. We made it in for a late lunch and bought some things in some of the village shops, Casey and I mostly finding Canada-related stuff at the Roots store.




And while we had not yet had any official Sasqutach sightings, we knew they were abundant in the area as we saw many Sasquatch crossing signs:




We did have a few close calls though, but they just turned out to be glorious mullets, or "hockey hair" as its called by the natives.

Speaking of mullets we also saw this van:



If you can't read the side, it says, "FREE CANDY". Classy.

We then set out for our campsite in Marble Canyon Provincial Park, but didn't quite make it that far. The road north of Whistler was in pretty bad shape and some weather started to come in giving us some rain and a little snow along the way. This slowed us a little, but wasn't a big deal. What was a big deal was the five straight kilometers of 11 and 13 percent grades leading us down into the town of Lillooet (also fun to say with a Canadian accent). At the bottom of the grade Harvey's brakes were toasty and stanky. The driving day ended in town when Harvey's hot brakes failed to do their job completely and we rolled through a stop sign. Clara expressed her dismay and we decided to stop for the night in Lillooet.




Wednesday morning I looked into the brakes and everything was good after they had cooled, so we took off for a long driving day up to Beaumont Provincial Park. We spent about eleven hours on the road, eight of them driving. Also during this time were the only three hours on record where I did not drive Harvey. Andy gave me a much needed break for a stretch and I chilled on the couch the whole time; Harvey even rocked me to sleep. Awesome. We arrived at Beaumont late in the evening, but it was becoming noticeable how far north we were getting and the sun didn't set until around nine.




The following day we didn't drive and spent the time exploring the park and playing euchre in the sun. There was a short trail in the woods that explained much of the area and showed all the beaver activity, though we didn't see much wildlife. The park brochure also described a hiking trail that sounded perfect for the day, but was pretty cryptic on the location of the trail head and we never did find it. So we played more euchre while Clara walked the dogs.





Andy and I finally broke out the fishing gear Friday morning and spent a very cold hour or two, coffee in hand, catching our limit of seaweed. We didn't really mind though, it was good to get out and cast a few. We then packed up Harv and took off. We stopped in Smithers for lunch, this was a neat little town according to the travel guides and has a alpine themed main street, but we all kinda felt disappointed with it. I was expecting more shops and a greater feel for the heritage of the area. (The salmon chowder kicked ass though)



(they apparently have Sasquatch there too)

From Smithers, we drove an hour to the Hazeltons. New, Old, and South Hazelton are three small communities that clam to be the totem pole capital of the world. The 'Ksan village in Old Hazelton has quite a few of them. We arrive a little after closing, but were still able to walk around and see some of the art.





Our campground, Seeley Lake Provincial Park, was not far past the Hazeltons and was just breathtaking. It's a very small place, just the campsites really, but it was right on the water. Andy and I were able to fish a bit more to relax, but noting was biting yet.