More Alaska

Sunset over the Yukon Flats, Dalton Highway

Last friday was my last day at work and the next day I met my dad at the Denali National Park train depot. From there we packed his bags up, got a campsite and headed to 49th state brewery for some yummy mac and cheese and an array of tasty microbrews. We then went in search for access to a large wind farm we spotted off in the distance. There are not very many side roads in Alaska, especially in small towns. We found the camp for the construction workers, building the project but could not get close to where they were actually working. The Eva Creek Wind Farm was across the river in a place where you could not drive. We assumed that from their camp the workers get on a bus and drive to the end of the road, walk across the train trestle and then get to another bus and trucks which had been hauled and dropped off on the other side. It was a little disappointment when we found out we could not get much closer. The project which has been in the works all summer will conclude around October creating Alaska's largest wind farm.

Mt Mckinley, a few weeks old but one of my favorites 

Fuzzy Ground cover

The next day we decided to head down to Talkeetna, about 170 miles South for the evening. With the rains coming into the area we were in, we hoped heading south would lead to clear skies and great views of Mt. Mckinley. Sure enough, we had two wonderful days of viewing the mountain with some of the most picture esc views of the summer. The highway from the Denali Park entrance to Talkeetna runs closely to the boarders of the National Park and also the Denali State park.

 Because of this we were hoping to get some wonderful wildlife sightings as well. Sure enough we got to see a line of six Caribou, all with full racks portaging a river. A very iconic and spectacular sight indeed. We also saw a couple groups of Dall Sheep up on the mountains.

Bald Eagle

Down near Talkeetna there is a neighboring town on the other side of the river called Trapper Creek. Even though they are neighboring and just on the other side of the river, they are still thirty miles away from each other. The closest bridge across the river is fifteen miles away. Anyways, in Trapper Creek there is a road called Petersville Road. This paved and mostly gravel road heads towards Mt. Mckinley, to be the closest point you can drive a car to the mountain. We spotted this road on a map and tried to drive it. The potholes got to brutal and large for the mini to conquer so we aborted, though an hour and a half in and close to the end of the road. We had dreams of spotting lots of wildlife along this road as well but there were too many hunters in the area who had other ambitions. It was a somewhat disappointing trip seeing that we did not get to get great great views of the mountain nor spotted any wildlife either but still a very scenic road.

Tundra Swans (we think)

We got back and to the Parks Highway and continued the rest of the way to Talkeetna. Talkeetna is the jump off point for anyone who comes to Alaska to ascend Mt. Mckinley. Even though the mountain is at least 50 miles away it towers over the town giving an amazing backdrop. We set up camp at a hostel and then checked out Denali Brewing Company and Twister Creek Restaurant. This small little brewery in the quaint, touristy, hippyish town of Talkeetna became my favorite brewer of any Alaskan beer on the trip thus far. The next morning after a hike down the river, coffee and bagel we headed back to Denali National Park. Sure, its not the most efficient way of seeing Alaska when you look at a map but efficiencies are not our priority on this trip. We came back to Denali to primarily see a slide show of a photographers work in the area. He was a photographer, late twenties or thirty who shoots on slide film, a real side show. It was inspiration for me to continue shooting more and more photos. That night my dad and I hiked out to a train trestle to shoot some photos, a cold night and caught a picture with a shooting star. Not the best photo but a really sweet capture. We had hopes of seeing the auroras but had no luck.

Shooting Star in Denali National Park

The next morning it was 16 degrees when we awoke, packed up our tent and headed off on the Denali Highway. The Denali Highway is a gravel highway which cuts across the center of the state. A very rural road which parallels the Denali Mountain Range which we were sad to see was again, over run by hunters. Around 140 miles long we saw two moose and one baby caribou a couple bald eagles and a hand full of waterfowl. We were hoping to see a lot more large mammals but the the majority of the ones we saw were camouflaged and on ATVs. With all the Caribou antlers on the backs of trucks and hanging up at camps and a lack of seeing any we only envisioned all the Caribou were all getting hunted out. However, when we stopped to camp we talked to one of the hunters. He was the only one we saw who was headed out by bicycle and trailer to hunt. He reassured us of the vast amount, hundreds of Caribou which had just been pushed farther away from the road. There are only 7,000 caribou tags this year he said, up from the normal 5,000 because of growing populations. There are still more Caribou in Alaska than there are humans.

View from the Denali Highway

Our camp on the Denali Highway

From the end of the Denali Highway we headed south to Valdez to catch a ride on the Alaska Marine Highway, or ferry. To our disappointment the ferry was booked for the next week so we turned around and drove instead. Valdez was beautiful from what we could see, tall mountains right near the ocean with glacial waterfalls in every direction. The next day we decided to make a little side trip to Whittier. I was told there was not much there, there is not, but it was a very unique place. There is one, one lane, 2.5 mile tunnel to get to Wittier. This tunnel alternates between car traffic, in and out, as well as the train line. It was a beautiful day in Whittier and an oddity of a place. The town is in a cove with high cliff walls and not much of an industry, a very small port, sea kayaking and whale watching excursions. The town was a WWII naval port which had excellent natural protection. Hidden in a cove, a 2.5 mile tunnel and weather which normally harbors thick fog made it a perfect hiding place for a military base.

Afternoon view off of Petersville Rd. 

Now we have made it to the Kenai Peninsula and we are sitting in an old church which has been converted into a coffee shop in Seward, AK. A dreary day here with low clouds and rain but we will try to make the best of it. Hopefully the weather clears soon, we have a lot of exploring to do here on the Kenai.

7:45am 16 degrease looking out at the Denali Range

The Haul Road

So I was sitting in the Denver Colorado airport on my way back to Fairbanks and I received a text message from my dad, "so what do you think about me flying up and traveling around with you?" Well, I thought it would be doable. "lets make it work I told him." So we talked about it for the next few days and before I knew it he told me he has a one way plane ticket and arrives to Anchorage next week. This is the thursday before labor day weekend when I find this out. Friday, I tell my boss at work that this will be my last week working for him and he was sad to see me leave so soon. We were just getting used to you being around, he told me. He asked me if I had plans for this longer weekend and we got to talking. I asked him if he had ever been to Coldfoot and what it was like up there.

 Coldfoot is a small town 250 miles north of Fairbanks up the Dalton Highway. The Dalton, also known as the North Slope Haul Road, The Prudhoe Haul Road and was made famous by the TV show Ice Road Truckers. Coldfoot, is halfway up the highway to Deadhorse, Alaska, the end of the public access part of the highway. Its kind of complicated understanding when and where this road ends. The road goes to Prudhoe Bay and Prudhoe is on the Arctic Ocean, but you can not really get to the ocean, but then you cant really even get to Prudhoe, you can only get to Deadhorse, which is 8 miles away. Make sense? No? Okay, look at a map.
Why Coldfoot? well its half way up the haul road and I thought I would be able to see a good amount of rural Alaska, while also dodging overloaded tractor trailer trucks. Coldfoot was originally a gold mining town, like most towns in the area. It was somewhat of a seasonal town where the miners would spend summers and leave before they got cold feet. Now, the town is merely a truck-stop for truckers, being one of two stops for fuel and one of maybe four places you can get a meal along the highway. When I say a truck-stop I am not talking about one you may be used to. You are greeted by a rutted out potholed 200 meeter long road that leads to a big muddy parking lot with a few small pond size potholes in the middle. There are three fuel pumps and no, you can not pay at the pump. There is no arcade inside nor showers nor any of those gaudy american flag tainted made in china figurines. There are fuel pumps, a restaurant, bathrooms, a hallway of photos picturing trucks who have run off the road, and two land line phones, because everyone already lost their cellphone service over 200 miles ago. This is one of those places that has a long table in its own little nook, like it is a private dining room. There is a 8.5x11 piece of paper taped up before you go in, "Truckers Only" it reads.
  So I was asking John, my boss, about Coldfoot and what was worthwhile seeing up that way and he said I needed to go to Atigun Pass, even further north of Coldfoot. Not too much farther,  but well worth the trip he says. Following the pass is the Atigun Valley and he explained its beauty. It sounded like it was worth the travel up that way. Then somewhere in conversation he mentions something about having two spare tires if I go. And if you have read my previous posts I do not have two spare tires, I drive a Mini Cooper and do not have room for two. Oh, and to make it more unfortunate I do not even have one.   I think about it for a minute and its one of those decisions of: well, do I stick around here and not go, miss out on the opportunity, tell your friends about how you really thought about going to do it but . . . or do I just say, "to hell with it, if shit hits the fan, it hits the fan. So lets hope there is no shit and hope there is no fan."John gives me on of those 'i'm really not supporting your decision' kind of looks and I brush it off and think about making it back alive and well. Now, I hope I am not coming off  too much like Chris McCandless, because I think he was an idiot. I do not like being associated with him, I am better than him. The end. I am also thinking in my mind about a few things, calculating this and that, the risks, probability, and costs if nothing works out well. Whatever, I have to go, its my last weekend in Fairbanks, my dad comes next week, this is the closest I will get to this opportunity in the foreseeable future.
I get off work, I get in my car and I make three stops on the way out of town. First, the auto parts store, I have runflat tires so I see this to my advantage but I pick up some stuff to fix a flat tire just in case and a windshield repair kit. I was guaranteed if I did not get a flat tire I would get an "Alaskan Windshield,"  that just means broken. Yes, everyone here has a broken windshield. And yes, my mother taught me to never say never, hate, always, can't, everyone bla bla bla but no, everyone here has a broken windshield. Stop number two, Fred Meyer, its like the Walmart of good quality things, you would not understand until you go to one. Pure shopping amazement. I pick up a sandwich, two gallons of water and two asian apple pear things, they looked interesting and worth  a taste. Last stop, fuel. Got fueled up and headed north.

The actual beginning to the Dalton highway splits off the Elliott around 60 miles from Fairbanks. All the Alaskan highways are named after people if you were wondering. At this point it turns to gravel, signs then tell its an industrial highway, to burn your headlights at all times, yield to tractor trailer trucks, and the speed limit is 50 miles per hour for the next 413 miles. The highway follows the Alaska Pipeline, full of oil, all the way to the source of the drilling at the Arctic. Along the way you cross the Yukon river and into the Arctic Circle. This is the only road in Alaska which allows you to cross either of these two locations. By the first night I had made it to 5 Mile Camp, just across the Yukon, by 5 miles. It was a circle of picnic tables and fire rings in a muddy lot with an outhouse and trashcan to one side that the bureau of land management controlled It was free camping and you got what you paid for. I camped in the rain, Alaskan rain, it only drizzles here when it rains, thats the extent of excitement when it comes to rain. I made it up to the Arctic Circle, again a muddy parking lot with just a sign saying "Arctic Circle" with the latitude. At this point the few tourists that venture up this far step into the arctic circle, maybe enjoy the picnic they brought with them and go back to dirty little Fairbanks. For me, hell no, I am going to make this 1) exciting 2) memorable and 3) worth it. So what did I do 1) exciting- I made my own little Arctic Circle, circle I called it. Doughnuts in the muddy parking lot   2) memorable- I took photos in my boxers, it was the frigid 43 degree (above zero) arctic that day 3) worth it- Im not turning around, I am going IN to the Arctic.

I traveld up the gravel-paved-gravel road to Coldfoot in the drizzle. I passed through forests of dark green spruce intermingled with the bright yellow leaves of the Birch and Aspen trees with their bright white trunks. I got to Coldfoot with no problem and got gas. There they also have an interagency visitor who answer questions of all the variety of parks in the 500 mile radius that do not really have direct access to them. I swing in and ask an older fellow if there is anything woth traveling past Atigun Pass for. He gives me the most excellent answer in the world in return,"well, it depends on what you consider worth it."He hit the nail on the head, I asked a shallow question and he gave me a brilliant response. He  then told me that he drove up into the arctic tundra recently to see Caribou and Musk Ox and other wildlife. A Musk Ox, I have never seen one and again do not know when I will get my chance to ever be so close to these creatures. So, I began thinking about maybe heading a little farther up the road than I was intending. In my mind I was going to drive up to the pass, a little ways past and depending on the road conditions I would probably turn back and camp somewhere along the way back between the pass and Coldfoot. Well, I got up to the pass and the drizzle just turned into clouds, I could tell I was driving through mountains but had no idea what they looked like because I could not see them. I came down into the Atigun Valley and what I saw did not amaze me at all, drizzle, clouds, a muddy road and a pipeline off to my side. I continued up the road, not seeing any wildlife and only passing tractor trailers, hunters and some road construction workers. One road worker sat in his parked motor grader looked out his window stared at my car as I passed and laughed so hard right at me. I had gotten many looks like this already yet not to this extent. It did not phase me but part of me questioned what more am I up for? I understand I am not driving a truck or SUV but I can sure as hell make it too. I began to see some predatory birds in the rare moments when the drizzle would lift. They were Golden Eagles and many Owls hunting the tundra.  Around an hour or so later I spotted something laying in the tundra. A Musk Ox! I jumped out of the car and took some photos. I yelled at him from a distance asking him to stand up, obviously did not understand what I was asking, it laid there, jaws chewing, just staring at me. I thought about turning around at this point now seeing my Musk Ox, I decided to venture on. I ventured past my 200 mile mark from Coldfoot meaning I would have to continue to Deadhorse to fuel up.

Of corse once I pass my allotted mile mark of turn around or continue the road turns to utter shit. Potholes upon potholes upon potholes. Its just constant potholes. As my teeth chatter, change rattles and well, everything that could possibly rattle, jolt, fall, spill etc. does so, I realize this would probably be when I would get my flat tire, 400 miles away from Fairbanks. However, I could get it fixed in Deadhorse, wait specialty tires, nah, I probably could not. And then the check engine light rattles on. I drive another few miles up the road, find a turn off and decide its time to put the wet tent up, in the rain, again.
I ate some sardines and bread, a nutritious dinner full of omega 3's and stuff and went to sleep. I woke up, packed my wet tent away and got back in the car. The check engine light did not come back on, score. I continue the drive into Deadhorse where the roads only progressively get more horrible all the way to town and in town, that is where they are the worst. I get gas in the shack of a gas station, and turn around to go back. Luckily the clouds have risen from the previous day, still overcast but not as gloomy. I spot some Caribou in the distance, more Musk Ox, Tundra Swans, Loons, more Owls, Eagles and other birds. Getting back closer to the end Atigun Valley snow appears on the ground from the night before and the sun peaks through in the distance, it was beautiful. The mountains begin to appear, the Brooks Range, which I had driven through before but had not been able to see. The sun comes out, I get closer in, fresh snow starts to fall, it was wonderful. I got to the top of the pass and hiked around, the air was still, fresh snow everywhere and there was that quiet that you only get with a still day and snow on the ground and at that moment I knew that this trip was entirely worth it, no matter what happens the rest of the way.
I camped that night just off the pass, near a river, I knew near the river I could find some kind of dried brush on the banks to make a campfire because I am still north of the tree line, wood is rare. A fox visits me in camp that night and I hoped to see the Auroras, I slept with my rainfly half off my tent hoping for clear skier. I was then awoken in the middle of the night, rain. My hopes of a rainless night were too farfetched for this trip, it was not going to happen. I packed up camp in the rain the next morning and headed back. Spotted some wolves along the road on the way back, took some photos and before I knew it I was back in Coldfoot. I topped of the gas tank and got some coffee and began to realize how good condition the road started to become. Before I knew it I was back in Fairbanks. I called up my buddy Chris who I told, if you do not hear from me by tuesday, worry. I told him I decided to go all the way up the haul road instead of just to the pass. He was surprised I made it with out problems and expressed that him and some others were glad I made it back from the trip. He then said "we were worried, but not worried enough to care."
And I sit here, I still do not know how to interpret that.