Omak, Washington to Spokane, Washington

“Go, go and see.”

John Muir

Total Miles: 8637

To all of our faithful blog readers:

You are invited to a "trailer party" on July 7 at 6:00pm. Have dinner in our driveway and tour the Airstream. Please let us know if you're coming so we can plan accordingly.

paulinebrez@gmail.com

Safely Home

Clinton, BC to Omak, Washington

Tomorrow we will be home.

A few reflections:

v     The fearsome Alaskan mosquito was not a factor

v     We didn’t need a gun or bear spray

v     The roads were better than expected

o       The challenging sections were part of the mystique, we hope they’re never smoothed out

v     Gas management took some forethought, but not too much

o       We only heard the “ding” once

o       Carrying an extra 5 gallons was a precautionary measure, but we didn’t need it

v     Campgrounds are charming, RV parking lots, less so

v     Visitor’s Centers are worth a stop

v     Cell phone coverage was spotty, WiFi was widely available, but often slow

v     Take the side roads, always

v     Bears and bald eagles never get boring

v     Alaska and Yukon Territory are the best kind of zoo

v     One month of togetherness in close quarters? No problem!

Wildlife count: 7 deer

Airstreams: 2

Miles: 277

Gratitudes: PKB: memories JMB: cheap gas at $4.39 in Omak

Final Gin Score: J: 3025 P: 3210

Denali Visitor's Center

Houston, BC to Clinton, BC

For the first time, we zone out and just go.

There is no question, British Columbia is absolutely gorgeous, but today it seems especially inhabited and rather refined. There are stop lights, lots of pavement, and frequent towns. There are many trees, and lush greenery but with a busy highway running through it. Something’s different.

Twenty-four hours ago we were standing above Salmon Glacier. Today we are a world away. As we travel down the map, Alaska and the Yukon are diminishing.

The scenery has become farms and ranches, the animals are horses and cows and the familiar deer are back. Our lunch stop is at lakeside, but the sounds of traffic intrude. We pass 50+ bikers decked out in leathers, strung out for a mile.

And, it’s dark at night. Most peculiar.

At Prince George we intersect with the Yellowhead Highway. We could turn north yet again and start all over.

Responsibility beckons.

We do see a moose ‘dancing’ on the blacktop. “Should I go this way? Should I go that way?” He’s big enough to stop traffic while he makes up his mind.

Wildlife count: 5 deer, 1 moose

Airstreams: 3

Miles: 437

Gratitudes: PKB: one last moose JMB: burgers on the grill

Gin Score: J: 2950 P: 3130

Hyder, Alaska to Houston, BC

FRESH! The mist, the air, the feeling of being first to arrive. It’s early morning at Salmon Glacier. The viewpoint is from above the ice sheet. We look out and down at the five visible miles of 1000 foot thick ice. We can “see” the flow of this icy river. In the stillness we can hear faint creaks as the ice grinds against moraine. It’s a meditative place, so we hang around.

The twenty miles of dirt road that gets us here was built by a mining company. It’s utilitarian, not glamorous, but the surroundings are. In two miles we count 17 waterfalls. They are everywhere, draining the upper reaches. Somebody left the faucet running. We are at the snow line and the water is sculpting what remains. We’ve driven into the clouds and then above them and right back into British Columbia. The banks of forget-me-nots don’t seem to care they’re on the wrong side of the border.

We continue beyond the glacier just to experience more of this road, but not too far, it ends in 6 miles. We do a little jade mining of our own when we see some greenish rocks. We load a few into the truck for further investigation back in Spokane.

Keith Scott, the self-proclaimed, Bear Man is camped near Salmon Glacier. He has a one-man tent plus his car and he lives here all summer, selling DVDs of bears to tourists. We buy one, just to honor his tenacity and gentle way. Later, we learn while talking to a couple of Hyder locals that he drives from New Brunswick every year and has been coming for 28 years. They tell us he played professional basketball in Canada and does nature talks at schools.

Ponder the choices we make to fashion our lives.

We mail a post card at the Hyder post office, zip code 99923. The stated pick up times are twice weekly. No hurry.

We stop in Stewart to walk on the ¼ mile boardwalk out into the estuary for a grand view of Portland Canal. The map shows Misty Fjords to the west, and the Pacific Ocean straight ahead. Yellow cinquefoil is poking waxy heads through the graying slats, making an eye-catching contrast.

 The Stewart museum has displays on the five movies filmed in this area. Bear Island (1978), The Thing (1981), Ice Man (1982), Leaving Normal (1991), and Insomnia (2002). We have to be satisfied with what we learn at the Visitor’s Centre because today, the museum, (and just about everything else) has a hand lettered sign on the door saying “closed for graduation”. Yes, there are lots of cars in the school parking lot and the community is honoring their young people. Graduation trumps museum, no contest.

We head back on the Stewart-Hyder access road, glad we came. Wall to wall waterfalls thread their way down the canyon walls, following the path of least resistance in free fall.

We do a Bear Glacier redux for lunch and then we’re back on the Cassiar Highway.

There is the one lane wood plank bridge 130 feet over the Ness River, a view of four of the Seven Sisters, the graying stand of authentic totem poles in Gitwangak, and the ginger-red splashes of Indian paintbrush and then we are off the Cassiar. The sights become less natural and more sophisticated, like the world’s largest fly fishing rod, (60 feet long with a 21 inch fluorescent fly), in Houston, BC.
☺

Wildlife count: 2 eagles, marmots, 2 black bears

Airstreams: 1

Miles: 299

Gratitudes: PKB: special people special places JMB: the Salmon Glacier Road

Gin Score:

Authentic Totems

Salmon Glacier

Iskut, BC to Hyder, Alaska

A red fox with a white pouf on his tail tip crosses the road as we set out.

Bears appear all day long. One makes a lasting impression by looking straight at us with a mouth too full of leaves and twigs, just having breakfast. Another sits upright at the side of the road giving us the once over, one more 'who is watching who' moment. A little guy scampers as we approach, unsure which direction to take. This is a bear zone.

Mileage markers reappear, as do double yellow lines, but the road remains narrow. We cross several constricted wood decked bridges with “yield to oncoming traffic” signs, but there is no traffic, oncoming or otherwise. We pass the site of a 1950’s forest fire which is now an abundant huckleberry patch. The Barrage River flows in a deep-cut canyon around rock pinnacle islands.

The mountains play peak-a-boo behind wispy gray-white clouds, ducking in and out of view. Avalanche chutes still filled with snow and ice but benign in the summertime become visible on the high slopes.

Northern yarrow and cow parsnips hoist their white heads on tall stalks, and white daisies with yellow centers are sprinkled like salt in the greenery.

We cannot resist one last meander. We take the turn onto the Stewart-Hyder Access Road. It’s a spur road off a side road leading to two small communities. Stewart, (population 699), is in British Columbia at the head of Portland Canal, a narrow saltwater fjord about 90 miles long which forms a natural border between Canada and Alaska. Hyder, (population 100), is 2 miles further on in a little piece of Alaska that’s so small there’s no US border crossing. The access road is a neck swiveling experience with multiple waterfalls dropping down on both sides. Although it hardly qualifies as a highway this route is called The Glacier Highway. The hanging glaciers, (definitely plural) are spectacular, but Bear Glacier is the big daddy. It pours down into a lake all blue ice and glint. We stop for lunch and admiration.

Bear River Canyon is a dramatic passage. Near a “watch for landslides” sign a tractor is parked and ready to clear debris. Probably comes in handy.

We drive through Stewart and on into Hyder where the pavement dramatically turns to dirt. We drop the trailer at Camp Run-A-Muck and drive out to Fish Creek to the bear viewing platform. When the pink and chum salmon spawn in this creek, (August and September), the bears come in droves, and so do people. The platform is a long gated boardwalk with walls paralleling the creek. There are rules. You must be quiet, you must not disturb the bears, (and eagles and sometimes wolves), you must stay inside the boardwalk, and oh, don't forget to close the gate. All is quiet today, we are here too early, but we envision the action.

Wildlife count: 1 fox, 6 black bears

Airstreams: 0

Miles: 210

Gratitudes: PKB: bears and more bears JMB: the vistas in the canyon

Gin Score: J:2725 P: 2795

Welcome to Hyder

Bear Viewing at Fish Creek

Whitehorse, Yukon Territory to Iskut, BC

We do some back tracking through Teslin to Junction 37 where we turn south onto the Cassiar Highway. We were rookies when we came through here more than two weeks ago. Now we have the mud, dirt and grime to prove our road experience. The big question around the RV parks in the evening is: “Are you on the way to Alaska or on the way back?” We are among the few who are on the way back.

We drive over the Nisutlin Bay Bridge again, but only once this time.

We pass the section where teenagers have spelled out names and messages in the embankment with white rocks. Peace signs, class of, just married, (seriously?) Adolescent billboards.

The Cassiar Highway is a special place. We slip into this undisturbed, undeveloped territory through a side door, like Alice into Wonderland. It reminds me of driving on a forest service road, only it’s paved. There are no lines, and no mile markers, a narrow strip closed in by dense trees. Sections of the road are bermed with 2-5 foot drop-offs from the shoulder, like driving an on-ramp for miles.

We stop for lunch at Blues Lake; it’s totally silent, just the lap of the water and the cries of birds. Just us.

This is a special area and we take pleasure in passing through. We’re gatecrashers in this pristine wilderness world.

In the midst of this natural splendor we come upon Jade City. There’s a jade mine in the nearby mountains. This place is filled with mass produced jade junk in the business of mining tourists. Onward.

Needlepoint Mountain makes a show. Definitely named after the stylus and not the crewel.

We cross the Arctic Pacific Divide. This summit marks the divide between the Pacific and Arctic Ocean watersheds. Never considered it before today.

Our stop for tonight is the Mountain Shadow RV Park half a mile off the highway in an out-of-the-way spot surrounded by snow capped peaks. Secluded, sensational, and it’s for sale! 235 acres, a slice of heaven, and only $1,200,000 Canadian. It’s a bargain. Anyone?

Wildlife count: 2 black bears (one was brown), 2 moose, 1 eagle

Airstreams: 0

Miles: 444

Gratitudes: PKB: permission to enter  JMB: the girl I’m with

Gin Score: J: 2585 P: 2600

Lunch

Needlepoint Mountain

Tok, Alaska to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory

A bumper sticker reads: “Was the guy who built this road coming from hell or going to it?”

We are passing through an area where winter temperatures can reach -72 and temperatures stay below freezing about 165 days of the year. This road has been under re-construction since it was built in 1942. This particular stretch presents some unique challenges. According to an informational board: “ …much of the soil is of glacial origin and unsuitable for road embankments. Anything that causes the permafrost to melt will cause the ice-rich soil to liquefy, and liquid soil has little strength and will settle then subside. When it refreezes it expands or heaves. This process wreaks havoc on the road surface by creating undulations and cracking.”  May I politely say that this is an understatement of great proportion? We bounce and heave for 200 miles. We catch air on some of these bumps, and others raise you up and slam you down like a pile driver.

When we stop at the Yukon government Visitor Centre we mention the road conditions to the ranger there and she tells us the road ahead is worse. We stay awhile.

They have a map of the world and everyone who stops puts a pin into their home city. Eastern Washington is pretty full already, but we manage to squeak in a red-topped pin. There’s also a variety of molds of animal paws and some soft sand to make imprints. We test a few.

Even with the rough ride, there are positives.

The Kluane Range parallels the highway. Every crisp peak and snow field is accentuated by the blue sky background. Their knobby backbones rub up against the heavens.

There’s a view around every bend and curve. Chain after chain of small lakes and over-sized ponds and then, the 154 square mile Kluane Lake, the longest in Yukon Territory. It’s smooth as a mirror today and reflecting back images of sky, cloud and mountain.

We come around a curve and drive right into a painting, the last piece of Kluane Lake and the Ruby Range, ready to hang above the couch.

This is a migratory bird route. Hundreds of thousands of birds from as far away as South America return here each spring to nest and raise their young. Trumpeter swans are among them. We see them in secluded ponds. They are great big birds.

We leave Alaska at the Beaver Creek border crossing. This is Canada’s most westerly community. We turn our watches back to Pacific Time and re-enter the land of the Loonie and the Twonie.

Our Lady of the Way Church in Haines Junction was created by a resourceful priest in 1943 from a Quonset hut left behind by the American Army after they’d completed the Alaska Highway. He fashioned a one of a kind place of worship with a name we find especially appropriate today.

As we rock and roll on this crazy road we check from time to time to see if the trailer is still behind us. It never fails to be there..

We hear about a couple whose microwave has fallen out of their fifth wheel because of the road. When we check our trailer at the end of the day we find 3 ripe tomatoes have fallen out of the cupboard and splattered onto the floor and every hanger in our tiny closet has fallen off the rod.

Giddy up!

Wildlife count: 4 trumpeter swans, 1 eagle

Airstreams: 1

Miles: 387

Gratitudes: PKB: the guy driving this rig JMB: the girl with me

Gin Score: J: 2340 P: 2415

Our Lady of the Way