Roads to Alaska

Death Valley.

Most people would call a 3300 mile drive to Alaska an adventure. And yeah, it felt that way leading up to it, as I tried to foresee and prepare for all the issues I would, and could, have to deal with. And along the way there were unknowns, like where I was going to stay for the night. But everything went more or less as expected. So looking back, it just feels like a long ass drive! The truck performed admirably; unfazed by the distance or the climbs. I ended up camping at rest stops almost every night, which relieved a lot of worry. It also meant less wilderness feel, but there's still a lot of private property along the hwy south of the Yukon, meaning fewer legal places to park overnight. Plus there was so much snow in most places that the little stream-side gravel bars (free campsites) I was looking for were all buried. This time of year, the traffic on the highways is minimal, with even fewer folks stopping by the rest stops, so it was actually pretty much like regular car camping.  My only concern, once up north, was wildlife.  The rest stops were so isolated, with 15 minutes or more going by without a single vehicle passing by in the middle of the day, that I pretty much felt alone in the wild. I wasn't sure if bears were out of hibernation yet, but at my first stop in British Columbia, I confirmed that indeed they were. As I was starting to cook spaghetti on my Coleman stove, set up on the picnic table, I watched a black bear mosey out of the tree line about 200 meters away. I got a good look at him (and a couple bald eagles flying overhead) with my binoculars, but he had no interest in me so I just kept an eye on him as I prepared another roadside dinner.

The solitude was a nice respite from my highly social weeks at the campground in Joshua Tree. Starting in the morning, there was always someone to cook breakfast with, we climbed during the day, had a few join for dinner in the evening, and more folks joined for campfires. I liked everyone I met there, and overall the experience was one of the highlights of my life. But after two, and then three weeks with no time alone to gather my thoughts, I was mentally drained. I am way introverted, and this experience confirmed that occasional (not total!) solitude is essential for me--like food and sleep. I learned that I need to be more proactive in making time for it, instead of letting distress build.

Needless to say, a ten day drive from southern California to Alaska provided more than enough alone time. I even spent one whole day at an empty campground next to the Stikine River; that was day eight. When I first walked up to the beach scoping the place out, I saw a Moose, with calf close behind, walking across the frozen river about a quarter mile down stream. The weather was decent enough to sit outside and read, and write, and I made another tasty dinner, with sweet potatoes. Up to that point, I had been crawling into the back of my truck for bed around dark (after 9), but I felt compelled to make myself a campfire that night. I'm glad I did, because I was blessed with clear skies and no wind, so I had my first look at the night sky from almost 60 degrees north latitude (Wichita is at 37). 

The next day was much less cloudy, and I was getting into even more mountainous terrain on the last couple hundred miles of the Cassiar highway, toward the northern region of British Columbia, approaching the Alaska Highway in the Yukon. I had to keep peeling my eyes away from the brilliant white peaks surrounding me in order to keep an eye on the road, especially because I was encountering numerous groups of caribou--apparently grazing--in the middle of the road. I paid almost six dollars a gallon for gas a couple times in this stretch, but the options are particularly limited this time of year, with the summer roadside attractions still closed for the season.

Caribou, clearing the road.

My last night on the road I stayed up late again to see the stars. The sun is going down around 9 right now, but because of the latitude, it takes a long time for it to get far enough below the horizon for it to be really dark. So it's not totally dark until after 11...and I think it was the darkest night sky I have seen because I saw an awful lot of satellites and meteors. Then I was astounded when I realized that what I had initially thought was a wispy cloud, was flowing and undulating. I had never seen the northern lights before, because it was never dark enough last summer, but I knew it was.  The aurora steadily grew, stretching ribbons of white light--some loose, some tighter--all the way across the sky. I spent a couple hours standing around my truck with my neck cranked back, gawking at the sky, as the water puddles around me were freezing over and I was loosing feeling in my toes. 

One of the real pleasures of the last few weeks that I try to remain grateful for has been the freedom from any schedule. I stayed up late admiring the night sky...so I just slept in :) I only had 300ish miles to go, so I wasn't in any rush. After a 150 more miles on the AK highway, as the St. Elias Mountains loomed to the west, I turned south on the 146 mile long Haines Highway--aptly named since that's the only place it goes. This stretch, skirting Canada's crazy mountainous Kluane National Park was the most impressive...I have never seen so much snow in my life. The forests of spruce trees had given way to treeless hills and mountains, blanketed with what looked like dozens of feet of blinding white snow. 

(wrapping this up...)  Near the US border, the road finally wound down out of the winter wonderland and met up with the Chilkat river for the final 50 miles or so. The weather was nice in town, and I finally paid for camping, with a helluva view, and enjoyed a much needed shower. More about Haines in a day or two, I think this post is more than long enough!

Mount Shasta, in Northern California.

Mt. Washington, in Oregon.

Oregon woods.

Typical campsite...a rest stop in British Columbia.  With truck in tailgate-kitchen mode.

The actual campsite I stayed at, next to the thawing Stikine River.

Entering Yukon Territory.

St. Elias Mountains, part of Kluane National Park, home of N. America's 2nd highest peak, Mt. Logan.

Haines highway.

Winter wonderland.

Oceanside camping in Haines, AK.