A FARMER?
Sunday, May 30
We were up at a quarter of nine. We were both still very tired and road weary.
Outside it was sunny and cool, forty six.
Onie fixed herself a cup of coffee in her Keurig coffee maker and the driver started his tea water going. Later the tea ball was dropped in and Pawpaw waited for the tea to steep before pouring himself a steaming cupful.
Now that both the driver and navigator were wide awake they started breakfast preparations. Onie fixed bacon while I prepared buckwheat pancakes from a mix Diana gave us. Breakfast was filling and reviving so afterwards we began general housekeeping chores, straightening cabinets, vacuuming the floors, picking up and straightening up.
Onie began getting together all the ingredients needed to make spaghetti sauce and chopped those that needed it. She got out the corn we had bought at Safeway and got it ready to cook. Out of the big freezer she took some chicken breasts that will be cooked later today and then she made a quiche from Kay’s recipe. Of course she adapted it just a bit so it now has her signature on it. She also began preparing potatoes au gratin in anticipation of Kurt and Becky’s arrival.
The driver not to be out done took out the trash and then took a long shower. Onie followed him in the shower and hers was equally long.
Outside Pawpaw washed the front of the Subaru so it will be ready for the cover before we start our travels again. A loose screw, but an important one, was worked on inside the coach. Three locking mechanisms on basement doors had become recalcitrant so they were removed, cleaned and reinstalled in the doors.
It was seventy three and Pawpaw had worked up a sweat. He went in to see how Onie was coming along. The trash can was full again. She had been cooking and cleaning out the refrigerator. Another trip was made to the trash barrel.
It was Sunday and we don’t like to miss church but where the closest one is no one seemed to know so we listened to the Singing Women of Southeast Texas and a Bill Gaither quartet, all day.
A day in the kitchen for Onie would not be complete if she didn’t make Pawpaw a fresh batch of fudge. He got to lick the pan, as usual.
Now it was time to put the spaghetti sauce together. With Pawpaw standing over the pans the onions and garlic were sautéed in a generous amount of olive oil and then the venison burger was added and sautéed. As they were needed Onie handed the remaining ingredients to Pawpaw. He added what Onie calls his secret herbs and spices, covered the pot and let it simmer.
Supper was outside; stuffed mushrooms followed by salad, corn on the cob and charcoal grilled chicken.
We cooked enough chicken to last awhile and what wasn’t eaten Onie bagged for storage as well as bagging the spaghetti sauce.
Some of the fresh fudge was shared with our next door neighbors. They are nice folks and loved her fudge. They have been in the military for twenty seven years and are returning to Alaska to finish his career and settle there. They have six kids, four adult children, three of whom are in service to our country and one who is engaged to a young man who just graduated from West Point. His first duty station is Ft Richardson in Anchorage. The couple has two small adopted children. They first got the kids as foster kids and then couldn’t give them up. The little ones are delightful. The youngest, a little girl, noticed I had on overalls and asked me if I was a farmer. I told her yes, I farm flowers and shrubs.
When they came in today the dad backed in a popup camper. Everyone got out and went to work, even the little ones. In ten minutes their camp was ready for living. I commented on the speed to him and he said that after twenty seven years of military service everything in his house is a drill. Everyone has a job and knows his or her job and does it with skill and alacrity.
Toad River RV Park
Marlin, Subaru and Army neighbor
It has been a beautiful day today.
At eight o’clock it was sixty five degrees.
Inside the coach Onie was making the couch bed in case Kurt and Becky show up tonight, Onie is sure they will be here. She lay down to wait for them while the writer made notes.
At ten there was a soft knock on the door. Kurt and Becky had arrived.We were super glad to see them and quickly got them in the coach for hugs and handshakes.
Even though they had both been very busy prior to their leaving, Kurt had found time to pick us some wild asparagus, which we love and consider a delicacy. He presented them to Onie.
We visited until eleven thirty when we all turned in. Soon only the sound of sleeping people filled the Marlin.
A GOOD SOAKING
Monday, May 31
Kurt and Becky were up a little before us. They used the Keurig to fix coffee.
We were up at eight thirty. Coffee and tea was made for everyone and quiche was served for breakfast.
The ladies readied the coach for travel as Kurt and I put the cover on the Subaru.
Driver and Kurt ready the toad for roads north of Toad River
Then it was time to hook up the Subaru and get on the road again. It was ten thirty, right on our schedule.
Our military neighbors had left at nine after another drill in which they broke camp.
Five miles out of camp we dumped the Keurig again, on a sharp curve. It appears to be okay but is now riding on the floor.
It was sixty three when we left and the driver was wearing a flannel shirt. Now it came off.
Kurt and Becky were following in their pickup, pulling their trailer. Occasionally we got a glimpse of them in the rear view mirrors.
As we crossed Toad River Onie got some good pictures of it.
Road along Toad River
Toad River
We were at Muncho Lake at eleven thirty. We usually see Stone sheep here but they were no where to be seen, today.
The lake is a beautiful aqua blue and very clear. The road winds around the lake next to the rock wall of the mountain.
Once again we stopped in the middle of the road and Onie got a good picture of the lake.
Muncho Lake
This is a very beautiful lake and also holds some awesome fish. The lake record for Lake Trout is fifty pounds. The lake also holds Grayling and Dolly Varden as well as White Fish. Muncho Lake is seven miles long, one mile wide and its deepest reported depth is seven hundred forty feet.
Driving past Strawberry Flats Provincial Campground we noticed many people sitting next to the lake, some fishing. Some folks were just walking around and others were exploring a small copse of trees. It was an altogether idyllic scene.
We drove out of Muncho Park without seeing any animals.
We drove next to Trout River for quite a while. It comes out of Muncho Lake and drops a thousand feet before flowing into the Liard River. Trout River has some rapids that are rated on the difficulty scale of two and three. They are running fast and white today.
The road is fair here and we can maintain thirty five to forty miles an hour although there are numerous rough spots where we have to slow down. There are some pavement breaks with loose gravel. Again today we have seen six or eight rigs unlike a few years ago when we saw fifteen at a time with some before and some after us. The road was filled with campers before the economy crashed. With the crash it took many businesses along this highway that depended on the tourist trade. They may never reopen.
The road is reported to improve fifteen miles before the hot springs. It does. We increase our speed to fifty to fifty five.
The descent into Liard River valley is long but not as steep as Peace River. The bridge spanning the river is a suspension bridge. The Liard is a big wide river. The grade out of the valley is long and gentle and a fairly easy climb for the Marlin.
Laird River Road
We have been seeing road signs to watch for “bison on the road” for several miles but haven’t see any.
We turned onto the road leading into the campground at the springs at twelve thirty. We drove to pick out a site and decided on site twelve. Kurt and I unhooked the toad so Onie could help me back in while Kurt moved the car, After we backed in and set up Kurt and the driver walked back to the front of the camp to register and pay for a night’s camping. Kurt and Becky had selected site thirteen across from us to park there rig in.
When the guys got back from parting with the pound of flesh Onie served snacks outside on our picnic table.
Kurt, Becky and the driver ready to soak
Becky, the driver and the navigator ready to relax in the hot springs
After snacks we got our suits on and went to the hot springs. The walk was a little further than it is from the parking lot, where we have stayed in the past, but the campground is nicely shaded and it is a nice walk. The ambient air temp is in the seventies so the water will be hotter than when the air is cool.
Onie and I went in the area below the little dam that forms the pool and then moved into the hotter water. Kurt and Becky, who had walked ahead of us, went right into hot stuff. We had ambled along the board walk, as we always do, looking for moose and geese. We saw none. It seems the warm marsh might be drying up as many areas that have been wet in the past are now dry; however, little hot streams still run supporting the little fish that live there.
Everyone stayed in the hot water quite a while and came out beet red.
Becky braves the HOT water
Kurt relaxing on a bench
The driver driving up his blood pressure with hot water
The HOT pool, hot water enters upper right
Becky and Kurt, relaxed ready for supper
There were big horse flies at the springs that seemed to have a particular affinity for the writer. One bit too quick to be stopped but the bite was his last. Several more were dispatched and the writer was considered an ace horse fly killer before he got out of the springs.
Back at the coach we got ready for supper, potatoes au gratin, Onie had prepared at Toad River, a nice salad and Kurt cooked the steaks on our little traveling grill.
After supper we went inside due to bugs.
Inside for Skip-B it was the girls against the boys. The girls were not too lucky as they only finished second to last in the first game and just in front of the losers the second game. This report of the games is made in a fair an unbiased way just like the alphabet news networks deliver the news, with no spin or twisting of the facts.
After the games the cards were cleared away everyone got ready for bed.
Adieus were said to Kurt and Becky as they plan to leave early in the morning to continue their trip, hoping to be in Beaver Creek, Yukon, Canada by tomorrow night. We will rise later and go soak again before continuing on our way.
Outside the camp was quiet with hardly even the wind stirring. It was sixty degrees and eleven thirty.
IMAGINATION
Tuesday, June 01
Kurt and Becky were up early, barely moving the coach as they dressed and made the bed. We heard them ease out the door. We didn’t know what time it was but still being tired we went back to sleep, for a while.
Kurt had been studying distance charts last night, pic, and will try for Beaver Creek today. They were probably sitting, waiting for gates to be unlocked and opened at seven.
It is a quarter of nine and fifty eight degrees. We are having coffee and tea and they are well up the road.
A few notes were taken off while the writer was eating an apple and a few verbal notes were added to the recorder.
Onie ate nothing.
Bathing suits on, we headed for the hot springs.
As we trod the board walk, we discussed the possibility of making the Swift River pull out today, before we quit. We like the place because it is next to the river and it is quiet. We usually meet some nice folks there, too.
Along the walk to the springs we stopped to take pictures of flowers, ferns and cow parsnip.
Flowers (blue bells) the size of a dime
Wild fern growing in a rotting tree stump
Broadleaf plant/Cow Parsnip
Flowers the size of a green pea
In the springs we met a nice couple from Ft St John. We talked Canadian politics with them as well as discussing the big natural gas field that has just been discovered near Fort St John. It has confirmed reserves large enough to supply every house in the lower forty eight with natural gas for the next two hundred years.
On the way back from the springs we saw Larry and Ann, again. They were going to meet us at Swift River today but have decided to stay another day at the springs.
We also saw three Canadian geese on the way back to the coach.
Back at the coach more tea and coffee were consumed along with quiche, for breakfast.
Before we got the coach ready to travel the driver and navigator did a little maintenance on the refrigerator. It has been reluctant to run on propane and has even refused the last day or so. After removing the inspection/service panel it was discovered that the flame protector had come loose. It was put back in place, secured and the fridge switched over to propane. Voila! We were back in business with the propane fridge.
After the morning walk around the driver went to move the Subaru while the navigator got the slides in, retracted the jacks and drove the Marlin out of the camp site and into the road. The driver pulled the toad up behind the coach and hooked up. The coach was road ready and so were we. It was too warm here for us. We had worked up a sweat repairing the refrigerator and hooking up the toad.
We headed up the road under sunny skies with the thermometer setting on seventy two point seven at twelve fifteen.
Right out of camp we saw a sign for buffalo on the road. We will see.
This road is fair for a coach. It is good for cars or pickups but the long wheelbase and top hamper of the coach make for a more picky vehicle when it comes to roads. We are rolling along at forty with the windows open and blue skies overhead. We are headed north with mountains around us. The wide cut right of way makes animals easy to see if and when they are there. The road curves gently with pretty good grades now and then.
We are following the Liard this afternoon. It is a big wide sweeping river with big white gravel bars strewn here and there. The road is still about the same with our speed remaining between thirty five and forty five. We are just relaxing and enjoying a Tuesday afternoon drive in the country.
We are watching for bison. We have always seen them in this vicinity, before. When one is hoping, straining to see animals, the eyes and imagination tend to play tricks on one. Dark culvert ends become bears, shadows in the woods become small moose, and big shadows become bison, all of which are imaginary.
It reminds one of small children in a big old house they consider scary. When it starts to get dark they hear the house creaking and imagine people in the house, see things move in corners, shadows become goblins, blowing curtains become ghost and the more their imagination works the more they see and the more scared they become. Such is the working and imagination of the human mind, creating something out of nothing and finding scary things where none exist.
We crossed the Coal River and just to the left of where we crossed, it empties into the Liard, losing its identity to the mammoth water it has joined.
Climbing out of the Coal River valley we are on a pretty good grade and a moderate surface. There was a big burn here last year. Some trees survived but many died. That is the bad news. The good news is there is not as much evidence of spruce bark beetle activity here.
Two miles past Coal River we saw a black bear grazing. He was too hungry to lift his head but we took a picture anyway.
Black bear, too busy for us
We were up the road a little past Cranberry Rapids when we glanced down into a small creek bottom and saw a big bull bison lying on a gravel bar, next to running water. There was no way to get a picture.
Near one we were on a long grade, climbing out of a valley, in second gear, for quite a while. As we climbed I finished off a pound of Bing cherries. Now I have to finish five pieces of old fudge so it won’t spoil. It is a civic duty. I will have a glass of low fat milk to wash it down and keep down the calorie count. We are ones who waste not and want not. We will waste ones waist but we won’t waste food, especially fudge.
Onie gave Becky four pieces of fudge last night for them to have on the road today. Becky says three pieces are for her and one for Kurt. She is concerned about his health so is making a sacrifice for him. What a lady. I mean that is real class.
Everybody loves Onie’s fudge. If we could find a way to make it on a large scale and market it we could be driving around in a Prevost, like rock stars.
One of Gary’s new sons, Rusty, who is about eight, thinks our smoked salmon is as good as candy and eats it like it is. I’m not sure he has ever tasted Onie’s fudge but the next time we see him, we will have him try some.
We stopped right in the middle of the road. There was a big bull bison next to road, grazing. We got a good picture of him
Bull bison shedding his winter coat
Animals get hungry all times of the day. We just passed a young grizzly down in the bar ditch, forty or fifty feet below us. He was grazing on flowers. When he saw us he high tailed it for the brush. Maybe we will see another and get a picture.
This road winds back and forth from British Columbia to the Yukon Territory and then back again. Right now, two fifteen, we are in the Yukon and nearing Contact Creek. Sometimes it is hard to know what province one is in.
We have bought fuel at Contact Creek now for a number of years. When the tank was full today we saw we had averaged nine miles per gallon on this leg.
The owner there talked about the huge gas field discovery near Fort St John. It is the talk of the west here.
Six and a half miles up the road from Contact Creek we saw two more big bull bison on my side of the road. We stopped for more pictures.
Another bull bison
As we crossed the Hyland River Onie noted that it is good for Dolly Varden and Grayling. The river was named for an early fur trader and is another tributary of the mighty Liard.
Watson Lake is coming up soon, just thirty five miles ahead. This used to be good road but now is some of the worse we have seen. It has the worst pot holes and pavement breaks we have seen to date. The road turned to trash when we entered “First Nation” land. We remembered this being good road but time, weather and wear did there worst.
It is time for our afternoon snack, salmon salad and half a bell pepper for the driver and salmon salad and crackers for the navigator.
Near Watson Lake where the road has been cut through the hills, the soil is not soil at all but beach sand. People ride four wheelers on the hillside sand for rest and relaxation.
A stop was made in Watson Lake so we could go into Super Foods for veggies. Onie likes the store and says their produce is top notch. Our visit lasted twenty five minutes and yielded only a handful of things.
We saw our first Royal Canadian Mounted Police in Watson Lake. It wasn’t being driven but it is the first we have seen since entering Canada.
It has been quite warm this afternoon and it is still warm at four forty five. It should be cooler at Swift River. We are hoping for a cool night.
We are headed north out of Watson Lake. Once in a while we hit a decent stretch of highway and kick it up a notch and get up to 1600 rpm but mostly we are running at thirty five to forty five miles an hour.
The Alcan is like the Rock Island Line of song, you got to ride it like you find it. Right now we are riding it pretty good, turning 1600 rpm. A few of the readers might remember the song, Rock Island Line. A few of the lines go like this, “Oh the Rock Island Line is a mighty good line, On the Rock Island Line is a mighty fine line, Oh the Rock Island Line is a mighty good road you gotta ride her like you find her on the Rock Island Line”.
While the words of the song were running through my head we had come to the Rancheria River and had been following it for quite a while. A bush pilot laid out this part of the Alcan for the engineers saving them lots of work and miles. He knew the route from having flown it many times.
Looking out our windows we see the snow covered Cassiar Mountains around us.
Back in Texas we have some friends, Roseanne and George. George may not know it but he has a namesake in Canada, George’s Gorge. It is a neat little clear creek that trickles under the Alcan and made us think of our friends.
We have accumulated enough bugs on the front body of coach and windshield to support a small colony of bats. Hopefully they will find some others or die of starvation. Time, energy and weather permitting the driver will try to clean them off this evening.
Clouds have been gathering all afternoon. A few mercy drops hit the coach but not enough to do any good. Perhaps we will have a shower before we get to camp or a shower tonight while we sleep which would be wonderful.
We were at the Swift River pullout at six ten. It was sixty six degrees.
Boon docking at Swift River, snow capped mountains in the background
The ending mileage was 109, 256. We leveled up, put out the slides, ran the generator and got ready for supper. The stove has worked great all day. We put in six hours of driving.
Before supper we both played some games on our laptops.
Onie served an appetizer, fresh wild Iowa asparagus with Athenos Three Pepper Hummus. The asparagus was out of sight and gone in a flash.
The writer started taking notes off the recorder while the navigator, now cook, began getting supper ready.
We dined at seven. Thai chicken salad with a side of avocados graced our plates. It was a great meal.
Rain began to fall and with it the temp fell. It had been sixty six at seven and forty minutes later it was fifty.
The rain ended at eight and with the clearing skies we could see sun on the distant snow covered mountains at nine. It was beautiful.
Onie continued playing games while the driver took off notes.
Around ten it was lights out.
WELDED
Wednesday, June 02
We had a low of forty two under clear skies.
We also had no neighbors. In the past there would have been at least two or three other rigs with us here. According to the guy at Contact Creek traffic and business is down to twenty one percent of what it was three years ago.
By eight o’clock the temp had risen to fifty five and the sun was high above the horizon.
Onie tried to make her coffee but there seems to be a problem with getting the Keurig to operate properly. We will address that further today. The tea pot simmered with heating water as a few notes were made.
We had more quiche and sliced tomato for breakfast before taking quick showers.
Onie played a game or two on her computer while Pawpaw took a few notes off his recorder then it was time to get ready to leave.
Walking about outside the driver did his pre-travel check and got in the slides while Onie policed the area.
Onie helping keep the Yukon beautiful
We like staying here and in the past campers before us have left the area clean as they found it. Someone in the recent few days has practiced being a slob and left newspaper, Styrofoam cups, beer bottles and cans as well as other trash to spoil our site. By the time Onie was finished she had picked up a good sized bag of debris. We walked over and deposited it, along with our trash from the coach, in the bear proof containers that has been placed there to prevent such unsightliness.
We were climbing out of the Swift River valley by ten o’clock under partly sunny clouds. The Cummins was gradually warming itself in the sixty degree air. In the distance to our left the sun fell on the snow covered mountains.
The road from our pullout has been pretty good with the exception of a few pavement breaks that we slow down for or in some cases are able to dodge. In large we are letting the tach rest on sixteen hundred as we make miles. Onie and I have decided that we don’t remember these roads quite as well as we thought and realizing that we have decided that next Easter we will color some eggs and hide them for ourselves. It will be fun trying to find them.
We are well on our way to Whitehorse, climbing hills which when summated reveal new vistas. At the peak of one we see several rain storms taking place, perhaps in our path.
One of the new vistas revealed a spruce forest devastated by spruce bark beetles. Dead trees backed away from both sides of the road, as far as the eye could see. Only a sprinkling of green was seen but from that a new forest will come with the passage of time. Until the dead trees fall and new ones replace them the area will be a tinderbox just waiting for a spark to become a conflagration.
We have finished switching back and forth across the borders of the Yukon and British Columbia. The next border we cross will be that of the Yukon, Canada and Alaska, U.S.A.
The area we have been passing through yesterday and today contains a great many natural and beaver made lakes. Each is unique and wonderful, crystal clear for the most part, like the happy streams that feed them. The streams tumble over the rocks, laughing and bubbling their way along through each little vale or big valley. Rocky stream beds and lack of cultivation of the land make for clear creeks and pristine lakes.
Now that we are in the Yukon for good, for this trip up, the highway number has changed to 1.
We crossed Teslin Lake Bridge, an open deck bridge and the longest bridge on the Alcan. Teslin lies to the north of the bridge and is one of larger communities along the highway. There are four hundred fifty inhabitants in Teslin.
Leaving Teslin the road runs next to Teslin Lake which is eighty six miles long, has an average width of two miles and an average depth of one hundred ninety feet. The Nisutlin River feeds the lake.
Today we have had more of less and less of more, that is more of less good roads and more of less good roads. The first hour we had very good roads but since then it has been a slow go and looks like it is getting slower as day progresses. We were stopped for bridge repairs. There was no flagger, just a timed traffic light that seemed more efficient and cost efficient than a person. The traffic light took no potty breaks, smoke breaks, sick time, vacation or family leave because their ninth grandmother died. The traffic light just stands there and does the job.
There was more construction sixty miles south of Whitehorse. Ten kilometers of very dusty loose gravel had to be negotiated as well as one kilometer with a pilot car. The speed limit was fifty kilometers per hour or thirty miles per hour but we were doing good to manage fifteen.
After the construction the highway following it was much better. Most of the time we thought we would be able to maintain fifty nine miles per hour. Such thoughts were short lived.
We were in Whitehorse at one thirty. We checked in at Pioneer RV Park and were assigned site sixty two. We went there, leveled and began plugging in the electric when it was noticed the cord needed attention. The repairs were made, the electric plugged in and then the driver went to the garage to talk to Clint about the welding that needed t be done. Clint said the welder will be here about five thirty. He will come to the site and let me know the time for sure. On the way back to the coach the driver went to the office and picked up some brochures for Onie. Back at the coach we worked on the Keurig a bit. We determined it is not pumping water into heater area but didn’t know how to correct that. Onie went online looking for help.
The driver stepped out and unhooked the Subaru so we will be ready when the welder is here. A few minutes later Clint came by and said the welder, Kyle, will be here at six. Clint will come get me and we can drive two hundred yards to the shop, get welded up and be ready to go in the morning,
We were sandwiched between two other coaches, from Texas, a Phaeton and an Alfa. The folks in the Phaeton never made an appearance after our arrival but the folks in the Alfa were out walking around. Having not yet seen the license plate on the Alfa, the driver was still able to identify the neighbor as being from Texas. How the neighbor asked, was the driver able to tell he was from Texas? It was really very easy; he was drinking a Shiner Bock. He says he goes to Alaska all the time but the driver bets he doesn’t go in the winter, however, the question went unasked.
Onie was online looking for a fix for Keurig. Tracy sent her a Keurig link. Onie went there, read manuals and thought the problem might be scaling inside the heater. Instructions called for running vinegar through the machine. She did as instructed and half an hour later the machine was working like new. We have used filtered water only and I think the fall from the counter, twice, dislodged scale and necessitated early de-scaling which under other conditions would come later. Score a big one for the Keurig as it has been dumped off the counter twice and still survives but now it will ride in the sink and have no more suicide leaps
The navigator and driver checked their email for the first time in several days. They’d had no web access. The navigator had seventy four new emails and the driver had one hundred seventy three. The afternoon was spent reading and responding to as many of the emails as we could.
Kyle, the welder, showed up at six. He and Clint came down and looked under the coach and couldn’t find the break so the driver got under and showed them the break. Kyle, a class “A” welder holding the highest certificate Canada grants and at the tender age of thirty, said he can fix it and it won’t break again. He opined as how the Alcan is very hard on equipment.
We drove to the shop, drove up on some ramps, put the Allison in park, stopped the Cummins and Kyle went to work. He used a wire welder. Two hours later he was finished.
While he was repairing the break, Onie and I fixed the rattle in the screen door and Onie fixed the rattle on a day night shade.
All repairs were made by eight when we drove back to our site over a rough road. There were no squeaks or rattles.
Back at the site we hooked up the Subaru and pulled back into our space. We leveled up and hooked up the land lines. Onie got the slides out.
When the outside work was at an end the driver came in and the navigator had stuffed mushrooms, a great salad with Safeway tomatoes, avocados and pizza on a multigrain crust, for supper. Spaghetti sauce was used as a topping base and she added to it. A glass of Crystal Lite helped wash the pizza down. Supper was over at nine thirty.
It is ten o’clock and the sun is still above the horizon. It is a warm sixty four.
Onie is busy taking off pictures from last week or so and the writer is still working on week two.
It is quite dry and dusty here. How dry one might ask? The driver was trying to take a shower but the water was evaporating before it hit his skin. He had to go to an indoor pool in a climate controlled building. One walks through a series of three doors to keep the moisture in. When one is finished bathing no towels are needed as one just steps through the second door and is instantly dried off by the air. But how dusty is it? The driver weighed before his shower and then again after and he lost eight pounds of dirt during the bath. That is not much for west Texas where dust is measured in inches but it is a lot for the Yukon where dust is measured in centimeters,
It is close to midnight. Onie has taken the pictures off the camera, one hundred twenty eight, while I wrote.
I had brushed my teeth and returned to the laptop, Onie was playing Snood when she saw a red fox out our windshield. We grabbed the camera and watched as he went from garbage can to garbage can, raiding them for his supper. He was a superb looking fox, not skinny at all, and the handsomest red you ever saw. We got some pictures of the fox raiding the cans.
A not too good picture of the fox but you get the idea--it's late at night
The fox doing more of his raiding
Now after midnight we shut down our laptops and went to sleep.
POSTED
Thursday, June 03
Much needed rain began falling at six. It was forty two degrees.
Here hours later when we rose the rain was over and the thermometer had managed to climb to a toasty forty four. We started the heater.
Onie made coffee and tea while the writer sat in front of his laptop, pecking away.
Outside garbage was littered all along the drive; the fox had come back for seconds and perhaps brought help.
The driver took notes off and wrote while Onie got breakfast, sausage, potatoes and onions with tortillas and Texas salsa.
Breakfast was over at ten thirty and the driver continued taking off notes.
We have decided to tarry a day and try to finish week two. Onie is working on the first four days while I finish last three.
The editor hard at work
We stopped to shower and go pay up for another day.
It is forty eight degrees at ten thirty. Now we are both working on week two. Onie has taken a break from week two to do cleanup on her laptop to get it to run faster.
An hour later it is sixty seven and getting too warm.
In the last half hour clouds have gathered and the temp has dropped to fifty two, much more comfortable. There is just the slightest of breezes. The rain last night confirmed our suspicions, where water puddle from last nights rain the ground is yellow with pine pollen. It looks just like Coldspring did last month.
While we are here we are going to wash clothes and perhaps walk to the grocery store. The washing will get done but we won’t walk to the grocery. It is five miles away.
Now Onie is working on getting all her documents into folders in her computer and hopes she can find everything.
Another hour has passed and we are still working on week two. Outside a slow rain is falling through forty seven degree air.
The navigator has just spotted an Artic Ground Squirrel near some big rocks where it must live. It seems to be eating grass seeds.
One fat Arctic Ground Squirrel
Even though it is early in the day, just past one, rigs are starting to filter into the park. The park gives .03 cents per liter discount on fuel so this is some incentive to stay here but one might be a little early to get off the road. This is not the greatest park, basically just a gravel parking lot but it does have full hookups and all the sites are pull through. Last night there were maybe twenty five rigs in the park. Tonight there will be less.
The writer took a break to go to Ducks Unlimited website to identify the black and white duck we have been seeing. He thinks it is a bufflehead.
It is forty nine at two. We may not see fifty today.
Shortly after three we went to do the wash. We had four loads. Once the machines were running the writer went back to the coach where the temp was dropping. It was forty seven and spitting rain.
Rigs coming into the park real steady now. Everyone is filthy. They must have come through the construction area we traveled yesterday and the rain must have hit there. They must all be headed north.
Driver is still working on week two and Onie is doing the wash. In an hour he quits and goes to the washateria to help fold clothes and carry them back. At the coach we put them away.
We went back to work on week two. Onie finished reading and editing the stories; she placed the pictures and let the writer have a look before she posted the work to our website.
Then she began working on supper.
The writer began working on week three.
Outside the sprinkles are gone.
Avocado, tomatoes, wild Iowa asparagus, sweet potatoes and grilled chicken for supper filled our supper plates.
Soon Onie turned in.
The writer worked a little longer before removing some cushions from the dinette and re-sinking some screw that had worked loose. The roads are shaking everything, this year.
Later with the temp at forty-eight the driver went to bed.
MILE 1243
Friday, June 04
We were up a little before seven. The low had been thirty seven but now it was thirty eight. The sun was high in the sky.
Onie fixed coffee and tea, checked her email and the market. The coffee and tea were good and there were some funny emails but there was nothing funny about the market.
Breakfast was steel cut oats with honey, blueberries and walnuts. It was warm and good.
We got our showers out of the way and checked more email before we began disconnecting. We should be on the road by ten.
Actually we were on the road and out of Whitehorse by ten.
The road was about as good as we remembered, surrounded by hills some with snow on them.
We haven’t hit any real rough roads yet but have been on roads where the coach should have been popping and cracking, in its un-welded condition but it is quiet and in addition the work on screen door and shade paid off as both are quiet. It is very quiet in the coach, quieter than it has been in many a day or year for that matter.
We are twenty minutes out of Whitehorse riding next to the Yukon River and riding along at thirty five to forty miles an hour. We are enjoying the ride as we admire the mountains and the mighty Yukon. This is probably as good as the road will get today. We are relaxed and enjoy scenery passing quietly by our windows.
The Yukon here is big but compared to where it is further north, Dawson City, it is just a creek even though it is about half a mile wide here and flowing a good clip.
Lots of things in life are comparative. We just saw a comparative sign. It is warning of a rough road. That should mean this road is smooth even though we can only maintain thirty five to forty miles an hour. The rough road limits travel to ten to fifteen miles an hour. Such is comparative wording.
This is the first stretch of seriously rough road with an indication of rough road for one kilometer. Soon we will see signs that say rough road for next ten kilometers.
Once again we are whipping along at forty miles an hour under mostly sunny skies. We are passing through the Takini burn area.
We have seen no animals yet today and only two other rigs, one a class C and one slide in. There could be other rigs ahead or behind us.
We have come almost thirty eight hundred miles since we left Lake Road and our good friends and neighbors. Nine hundred of those miles have been on the Alcan. We just met a guy on a bicycle headed south. He has a lot of pedal turning to do to get anywhere south.
People who drive the Alcan north of Whitehorse all have big bladders. We know this for a fact as there is nowhere to pull off to relieve oneself. If folks didn’t have these enormous bladders the all benevolent government would make pullouts with potties.
Now we are whistling right along having covered sixty miles in an hour and a half,
We have written we were driving at sixteen hundred revolutions per minute, for the Cummins. It should be noted that we are talking about that rpm in sixth gear and overdrive. Then we are running fifty nine to sixty one miles an hour depending on the road surface and inclines we encounter. In fact we drive at sixteen hundred rpm a lot but it is in the forty seven to forty nine per hour range or thirty seven to thirty nine miles per hour range.
To all our loved ones suffering in the Texas heat it is fifty seven at eleven thirty. We are really feeling for you but can’t quite reach you.
We are approaching the Kluane Mountains here just before noon. It appears there is still a lot of snow there.
We have pretty much had the road to ourselves today with just a handful of cars, a few local campers and one semi.
Here we are in Haines Junction at noon, ninety nine miles from where we started. Haines Junction is a small town but shows a lot of pride with its clean streets and well-kept properties. They have even replaced the wooden cutout of a patrol car next to the road with a real one. It is obvious it hasn’t moved in many a day but it is impressive compared to the wooden cutout.
We are closer to Kluane and Destruction Bay now and have come just about a thousand miles on the Alcan.
The navigator told me we just crossed Bear Creek summit which is highest point on the Alcan between Whitehorse and Fairbanks.
Over a few more hills, around a few more curves and then we were looking at Lake Kluane. This is truly a beautiful lake and we think one of the most picturesque along the highway.
Beautiful Kluane
As we make the bend around the south end of Kluane we get a great view of the lake. Where the Silver Creek and other creeks and washes feed in to form lake there is little or no water running. Much of what feeds the creeks and washes is snow melt and there wasn’t a normal snowfall this year and much of what did fall is still un-melted.
Around the bend we headed toward Destruction Bay and Burwash Landing.
The road people have been working on this portion of the road around the lake for a number of years. This new and improved portion of the road is in good shape, even for a motor coach.
Kluane appears to be way down, five or six feet at least. The navigator notices something, perhaps the lack of water, has robbed Kluane of her normal wonderful aqua color and in some places the lake almost looks muddy.
We have watched the work on this road for years, enduring pilot cars, delays for blasting, rough dusty and sometimes muddy roads but now it is in pretty good shape. It is not silky smooth but it is such an improvement over the old road it is almost unbelievable. What they did to create the new road is almost a miracle as they literally moved mountains to make way for this new path. For one who never drove the old road they wouldn’t and couldn’t appreciate the new road. Hairpin blind curves and narrow lanes were eliminated and with that gone so is character of the road. The old road was next to the lake. The drive was slow and somewhat dangerous but it was absolutely stunning. Now the road is considerably higher, removing the transients for the banks of the lake, and taking them by much more swiftly. The driver thinks some of the beauty of the drive is missing.
Pulling away from Kluane Lake we saw a young honey grizzly and stopped in the middle of the road to get pictures.
Who me?
Young honey grizzly
Twenty minutes to two we passed through Destruction Bay. Passing takes as long as the telling.
Kluane museum is at Burwash Landing, one of the oldest communities in the Yukon, established in 1904 as a trading post it is still alive and somewhat well. A building erected in 1939 is considered a historic monument. The writer who was born the same year wonders if that qualifies him as a historic monument and if so can he charge a fee to view him? If not a historic monument then exactly what is someone born at that time, in our culture? In Asian culture they would be respected and their views revered. In the good old U.S. of A the government, trying to foster and form public opinion thinks they should be given “death counseling” at least every three years. This is government of the people, by the people and for the people?
We got to the place I said we would get to. The sign said rough road for the next ten kilometers.
We are closing in on the U.S. border just being eighty miles away.
We stopped to get pictures of a pair of swans on a pond right next to Swede Johnson creek.
A pair of Trumpeter Swans, beautiful BIG birds
Now we are easing down very bumpy road at twenty five to thirty miles an hour. It is definitely not the yellow brick road and it is not taking us to Oz but it is taking us to our fishing hole.
We are watching for animals.
The navigator has decided it is time, three o’clock, for afternoon Chai tea and Latte.
We are swinging along low and slow in our sweet chariot. We saw two or three pair of swans off to our left in a little pond but they were too far away for pictures.
Should the reader have a burning desire to see wilderness you are invited to come to this part of the Yukon. Between Haines Junction and Beaver Creek there is a whole lot of land, a lot of trees and a whole lot of creeks, big and small rivers and mountains, but no people. Welcome to the wilderness.
It is three thirty and we are zipping along at twenty five to thirty. If one is prone to motion sickness this would not be the place to be right now as the coach dips, rocks and rolls like a craft in high seas. The frost heaves and pavement breaks are delivering what was promised, rough roads.
It is partly cloudy and sixty one.
There have been several places here that look like the famous Andy Williams song, Moose River. You know the one, “Moose River I’m crossing you in style some day, Oh Moose River you heartbreaker, I’ll be the big horn taker.”
We just crossed the White River which is a wide braided river named for its color which comes from white volcanic ash. Where the river was high, but has now receded, one can see the white ash. It looks like snow lying on gravel bars.
We are getting close to Beaver Creek. Just fifteen more miles and we will be in the last town in Canada, on the Alcan. From here we have forty more miles of rough road to go to get to U.S. Customs. U.S. Customs is several miles inside the U.S. border.
After traveling almost all the way through Canada, we are two kilometers from Beaver Creek which is about 2 miles from the Canada/U.S. border, we saw a RCMP SUV patrol unit being driven on the highway. The driver thinks someone took it out to keep up the battery and maybe buy some fuel.
We passed through Beaver Creek and passed through Canadian Customs at five local time. There was no need to stop there as they don’t seem to care what we take out, only what we might bring in and then they are most concerned about firearms, ammunition, alcohol and tobacco.
The exit from Canada is slow. We slowed to fifteen on some rough road and it was still too fast. It was just a little going away present on an incredibly rough road.
We saw two nesting swans on what looked like gigantic beaver lodges but they were too far away for a picture.
The last several miles of road in Canada should be an embarrassment to the Yukon and people of Canada. Canada is not a third world country and could afford to maintain this road if it would quit spending money to keep the Quebec French happy. The French of Quebec are whiners and take far more from the other provinces in the form of tax dollars doled out to them by the Canadian Parliament. The rest of Canada needs to stand up and tell them to quit whining and start supporting themselves just as the several states should tell New York, California and other states with proliferate spending habits to man up and become self supporting.
At a quarter to six we rolled up to U.S. Customs. We were greeted by a nice young man who looked at our passports, scanned them, asked the usual questions and wished us a happy summer. We were rolling again five minutes later.
A construction zone we had been in, in Canada ran right through Customs and a half mile inside Alaska before it was at an end.
Now on Alaska 2 we headed toward Tok. Alaska 2 is also known as The Purple Heart Trail honoring the men and women of our country who have sacrificed for us.
We certainly don’t know what the rest of the Alaskan roads will be like but we just went through construction with a pilot car and the road surface in the construction area was better than the last seventy miles in Canada. Go Alaska!
At five after seven our time but five after six local time we were in a pull out at mile marker 1243 on the south side of the highway. (We lost an hour at the border) The jacks were put down and the slides put out. We were overlooking a gorgeous valley with the St Elias Mountains on the far side.
We traveled three hundred fourteen miles today and still have lots of daylight left. The sky is half sunny and half clouds.
As the driver stepped out to have a look around a cool fifty seven degree temperature greeted him.
Inside Onie was in her kitchen getting ready to start supper.
The driver ducked back inside and began taking notes off his recorder. Onie says it looks like rain or snow on the St Elias Mountains to the south.
St Elias Mountains
With supper ready we sat down to a salad of Romaine lettuce, English cucumbers, little trees, tomatoes and avocadoes. Also gracing our table were wild Iowa asparagus, potatoes au gratin and butter sautéed halibut. This was our celebration dinner for being back in the U.S. and being back in our summer home, Alaska.
For all in attendance there was a beautiful view from our dining room window.
Looking out the dining room window (picture does not do it justice)
After supper the driver turned writer took some notes off his recorder while Onie cleaned kitchen and got ready for bed.
With the wind having abated by eight thirty the temp seemed to be falling slower than usual and was sitting at fifty three when the driver stepped out for a little stroll around the pullout.
Our secluded pullout, the road is behind the photographer
He was back fifteen minutes later and wrote until the battery in his laptop died.
He sat down to read Undaunted Courage by Stephen Ambrose and stayed with it until ten thirty when it was fifty one degrees.
THAI ME UP
Saturday, June 05
We were up at seven when we started the generator to make coffee and tea.
Outside it was forty six.
The navigator took a picture of the mountains with alpen glow while the writer made his notes.
Alpen glow on Mt. Sanford (we think). WHAT A SIGHT TO BEHOLD.
After our breakfast of steel cut oats, walnuts, blueberries and honey we took quick showers and were on the road again at eight thirty.
When the driver had done his walk around it had been forty eight and sunny. Now we rode along under partly sunny skies.
The road to Tok isn’t perfect but it is a big improvement over yesterday. Some stretches are even nice and smooth with some curvy portions and in some places we can drive fifty nine. When we get to some of the sharper curves, Onie grabs her arm rest as we swing through without slowing.
The dash heater is running. Blue sky is showing through the clouds down to the south but overhead it looks like rain or snow. It is not cool enough right now for snow but that could change.
We are getting very close to the end of the Alcan as we just passed mile post 1300 and there are less than 1350 miles overall.
Passing through Tetlin Junction, which is just a bunch of deserted buildings; the highway intersects with Alaska 5 which we know as Top of the World Highway. This particular highway happens to be mostly gravel but it does take one to Chicken and then on to Dawson City, across the Yukon River
Construction goes on, on the new Tanana River Bridge. It was started last year. We are on the old bridge now and it will probably be next year before approaches or bridge is finished
As is our custom we stopped in Tok for phone calls home. While we were there we had lunch.
We were back on the road at a quarter to twelve.
We headed toward Matanuska on the Tok cutoff at fifty nine miles per hour turning 1600 rpm. The road is still in good shape but showing signs of weather damage.
Fourteen miles later we left the good road, not by choice, we were still on the Tok Cutoff, and it was back into frost heaves and ten to thirty five miles an hour.
Back to our leisurely ride, surrounded by mountains on three sides, we had none behind us toward Tok, with the road twisting and turning, following the valley. Eventually we will have to climb out of the valley and go through a pass but it will be a while.
We have come eighty five miles from Tok and the road has been anywhere from fabulous to ten miles per hour terrible. Even out here, far from most anything, there are mail boxes every mile or two. This is wild country but lots of people live out here. The Tok River is a muddy little stream making its way through the valley while the Little Tok runs clear over a glistening rock bottom.
We just passed the Slana River, which we think is glacier fed. Huddled at the base of the bridge were six or eight camping rigs of various types and sizes. They may be fishing for kings since the Slana feeds into the Copper River and the Copper does support kings.
We’ve seen no animals yet but a few trumpeter swans did come into view. They were too far away with their heads down and bottoms up to get any good pictures.
Mt Sanford at sixteen thousand feet, plus, and Mt. Drum over twelve thousand feet are off to our left. Both bases are visible but their crests are covered by clouds. Below the clouds the part of the tops that are visible are pretty well covered with snow. Even now they may be getting more snow.
If any one is keeping track it has been two hours since we left Tok and we have come eighty miles.
Just before Chistochina we drove onto a really nice pavement. The navigator had announced it was up coming, from information in her Milepost, and said it would last for eight miles and eight miles only. We just went thru Chistochina and now crossing the Chistochina Bridge which crosses the braided river of the same name. For all gold seekers reading this it should be noted that over five and a half tons of gold have been removed, over the past several years, from the area around Chistochina. At over $1,000 an ounce that is a lot of money. The driver did the math in his head and came up with a figure of one hundred seventy six million dollars. If that is close to correct it would be nice to have the interest from it. Use paper and pencil if you need to but check out the driver’s calculation.
The cottonwood trees are blooming and tufts are flying through the air like snow. Fortunately it is not snow.
We are now ten miles from the Glenn Highway and have still seen no animals.
At the Glenn Highway we took a left at two forty five. It took 3 hours to traverse the Tok Cutoff mileage of one hundred seventeen miles.
There were lots of campers at the Gulkana River, parked at the base of the bridge. One can tell from fishing rigs they are after king salmon.
Down the road at Glen Allen we left Alaska 4 and got on Alaska 1. The road sign there says Anchorage but we won’t get there tonight.
We are passing through Glen Allen, one of Alaska’s medium sized cities. We passed the Hitching Post, once a café but closed now, where Onie, Tracy, Haley and the driver once ate.
The highway in Glen Allen seems to have suffered from the weather. It’s not wear but weather that gets them here. Frost heaves buckle them and then traffic finishes them off.
We are riding under a bright sun. It is probably seventy five and the locals are loving it. It is a little warm for me.
From our left window we can see the Tazlina glacier feeding into Tazlina Lake plus another glacier we don’t know name of.
Infamous Meldentna, never to be forgotten by the writer appeared around a bend in the road. We once spent the night there in a cabin hardly worthy of the name. It did provide a place to get horizontal and lay ones head but that is all that can be said for it.
The Chugach Mountains are off to the left and there is another large glacier descending their slopes.
Now we have crossed the Little Nelchina River which is running fast and muddy.
As we entered the Matanuska-Susitna borough we knew we were close to our stopping place. It has been a slow go this afternoon.
The Chugach Mountains are still off to our left and we just got a glimpse of the Nelchina glacier.
Nelchina glacier
At last we are in Grand View RV Park and hooked up. We ordered a Thai Me Up pizza for supper. It has been a long day for the cook, too.
We had access to a WiFi network so Onie began checking her email and the market, while we waited for our pizza.
Pizza was ready at six fifteen. It was okay but we won’t order it again,
After pizza the driver took off notes while Onie surfed the web.
It was still sunny at eight and fifty six degrees.
Later Onie a watched movie and I wrote until eleven thirty. By then the thermometer had fallen to forty three promising some good sleeping weather.