Snapshots of the Alaska Highway from Dawson Creek to Fort Nelson.
Ontario to Yukon, Day Seven
Dawson Creek, British Columbia to Fort Nelson, British Columbia
452 kms, 5.5 hours
We were carefully making our way up the Alaska Highway (kilometre 384 to be exact), listening Rob Inglis narrating the audiobook, the Hobbit, in a soothing British accent. The dwarves and Bilbo were tentatively exploring the depths of Lonely Mountain, afraid of running into Smaug the dragon. And then, out of the blue, came a terrifyingly loud CLACK CLACK CLACK! I looked to my left. A huge truck was passing us while its tire was shredding, strips of the tire slapping against the wheel well. With a loud BANG a large part of the truck flew off, crossing our lane right in front of us. I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing, and I am impressed no bodily fluids escaped me. For his part, Rich calmly and gradually reduced speed as what turned out to be the wheel well missed us by maybe 30 feet. A few seconds earlier and we would have been toast. Immediately another truck passed us as the first truck sped on.
Rich and I looked at each other as he kept an iron grip on the steering wheel. Inglis was still calmly narrating the Hobbit in a background, although I have absolutely no idea what he was saying. I pressed pause and we both exhaled. If anyone is going to drive me over treacherous winter roads with massive trucks speeding past, I’m glad it is Rich!
This morning we’d started our drive at mile 0 of the Alaska highway, prepared with our emergency kit, wool long johns, warm clothes, mitts, scarves, and toques. Only it was 4 degrees out. After our frigid journey through the prairies it felt very warm. At a pit stop along the way I overheard an news anchor CBC complaining about the cold temperatures in Toronto and I couldn’t help but laugh. Here we were, outfitted to survive the terrible cold temperatures of the north and it was a good 30 degrees warmer then where we came from.
The drive was not as bad as we’d feared. We had great clear weather and the roads were mainly paved and wide and well-gritted. Here is the run-down…
Kilometre 56 - We encountered a steep winding gravel road, taken at slow speed it was no problem.
Kilometre 61 - We crossed a long steel bridge which was very slippery but fortunately we had been warned about this at the motel and assured it was normal, so we didn’t panic and made it across without incident.
Kilometre 92 - The first sign for Whitehorse! 1342 kms away.
Kilometre 104 - A random statue of a guy with an axe on the side of the road.
Kilometre 194 - The first view of mountains in the distance.
Kilometre 252 - A sign for trucks to put on their chains for a steep descent. We were fine with our winter tires.
Kilometre 384 - Our near-death experience!
Kilometre 452 - Fort Nelson, safe and sound in our ridiculously expensive motel room.
Tomorrow we venture into more treacherous conditions and high mountain passes, not to mention the motel prices at Watson Lake!
A couple of snapped images from my trusty iPhone. Almost there - apparently the most exciting part of the drive for us will be tomorrow.
A tally of seven cars and trucks in the ditch, plains to hills and back to plains (and moose country) and the best Super 8 Motel so far. (We recently discovered that Oscar thinks a Super 8 is an adventure, every time he see the yellow sign he says, “Look mom, it a ‘venture”)
Ontario to Yukon, Day Six
Edmonton, Alberta to Dawson Creek, British Columbia
630 kms, 10 hours
We woke up the first day of 2014, 3795 kms away from home and we cuddled in the bed together, dog included, shouting “Happy 2014!” It was nice to start the new year well-rested and with no hangover. After phone calls to family to wish New Years greetings we set about wordlessly packing up, sorting out the car and taking Maggie for a short walk, a routine we are now very familiar with.
After the GPS took us a very roundabout way to a Tim Hortons (we think she gets her knickers in a twist when she’s left in the car at night), we were westward bound on the Yellowhead highway.
As we were driving towards Grande Prairie I thought the scenery would be as flat the the landscape we’d passed on the way to Edmonton, but the further we travelled the steeper the hills became.
Grande Prairie is a very strange name for a town in the mountains, I thought to myself.
In these snow covered hills we saw several cars and trucks abandoned on the side of the road, including two transport trucks. Some were flipped, some had spun around and some had just plowed into the deep snow.
Needless to say, we drove very carefully.
Then we reached the top of a high hill and spread below us, as far as our eye could see, was a snow covered flat expanse, like a vast lake. When we arrived at Grande Prairie it was an island of malls and superstores. We stopped to continue our fruitless search for warm boots for me but got a great deal on tiny Sorels for Oscar. I saw dozens of truck a few SUVs and one car, and no wonder, many roads weren’t ploughed and as the trailer bounced it pushed and pulled our 4runner at will. Here’s hoping the Alaska Highway will be ploughed.
We start on the dreaded (by us anyway) Alaska Highway tomorrow. The latest road report stated sections of snow pack and sections of loose gravel, drive slowly.
The drive to Dawson creek has been uneventful. At -12 degrees it feels quite warm here. I feel like a Minnesotan wandering around with no toque and my jacket open. Maybe I should break out my sneakers.
Ontario to Yukon, Day Five
Regina, Saskatchewan to Edmonton, Alberta
782 kms, 11 hours
It’s 9:42pm New Years Eve, I’ve had a couple paper motel cups of sparkling wine and will be turning in soon. It’s not the flashiest New Year’s Eve I’ve ever had but maybe the most meaningful. Tomorrow is a new year and really are starting fresh.
The drive today was fairly uneventful but when we arrived in Edmonton we met with an old family friend, Randy McDonald, who lives in Edmonton and was kind enough to treat us to dinner at the West Edmonton Mall. It was a quick visit but nice to connect with someone we know. We learned you can buy alcohol at a number of different liquor stores (because we’re in “the west” now), Randy doesn’t like sushi and he is great with kids, volunteering to chase after our freedom-drunk child. Also, he reads this blog so I can only say nice things although I can’t imagine anyone saying anything bad about Randy.
We spent the evening sipping the afore mentioned sparkling wine, eating Christmas chocolate and watching the National Geographic channel which was particularly relevant tonight. First we watched a show about tow truck drivers in mountain snow (we may need one of those soon) and then a show about Canadian Border Security (which made me realize we shouldn’t worry so much since we are never crossing the border with weapons, drugs or illegal intentions.) Reality TV is a favourite hotel indulgence for us.
Happy New Years everyone, if you are reading this tonight I’m guessing your New Years is about as exciting as ours is and I salut you.
Store decor… American style, not the Fargo from my memory, highlights of North Dakota scenery.
Ontario to Yukon, Day Four
Jamestown, North Dakota to Regina, Saskatchewan
666 kms, 8 hours
It was a refreshing change to be off the major highways and onto some back roads today. We made our way from Jamestown to Portal on the border between North Dakota and Saskatchewan. I’m paranoid about customs so I passed some time on the journey quizzing Richard.
"What did we buy in the US?"
"Where are the receipts?"
"When did we leave the US?"
"How much alcohol are we bringing into Canada?"
And that’s where we hit a bit of a snag. I couldn’t bear to leave behind my vodka and kahlua in Canada. I mean, there was like 40 white russians there. So we brought them with us. Nor could I resist buying our allowance of two bottles from duty-free. We have a lot of cold winter nights ahead of us in Whitehorse and Rich got a bottle of single malt whisky for $33. So we were technically over our limit of 1L each.
"Are you prepared to lie and say we don’t have any other alcohol?" I asked Rich.
"Yeah, if they find it I will just say I forgot about it, or I didn’t know it counted," he replied. "They won’t ask anyway."
We pulled up to customs and the customs agent asks what we bought. Rich rattled off the list of things, receipts at the ready, just like we practised.
"Do you have any other alcohol or tobacco with you?" the agent asked.
A pause.
"Pardon?" asked Rich.
He repeated the question.
"Ummmm…." and Rich looked at me. "We might have some kahlua and vodka in the back," he confessed.
Here it comes, I thought, with visions of a warehouse full of the contents of our trailer strewn over the floor, Oscar crying, Maggie wanking on the lead and Rich and I at our wits end snapping at each other and passing innocents.
Maybe the customs agent had the same vision, or perhaps you really are allowed to take booze back into Canada without it counting towards your allowance because he let us go immediately.
"Never be a smuggler!" I snapped at Rich as pulled away while simultaneously feeling a tug of affection towards my husband who is honest to a fault.
Oscar’s only comment was, “Can I have a timbit?” either because he thought the customs window was a Tim Hortons drive through or he had some sense we were back in the land of the double double. Nevertheless we scanned the horizon for a hint of the yellow and brown signage as we set off across the prairie and were soon rewarded for our efforts.
The sign on the Timmie’s window said, “Welcome home” and although I was in a new place and a strange landscape, I did feel like I was coming home.
The prairies from the border to Regina, where we have rested for the night, were stark and beautiful, the roads straight and purposeful like the Roman roads of Europe. This impression might change after hour six of driving tomorrow. Time will tell.
Shopping decor… American style, not the Fargo I remember & highlights of the North Dakota landscape.
Ontario to Yukon, Day Three
Eau Claire, Wisconsin to Jamestown, North Dakota
676 kms, 11 hours (with shopping breaks)
So our brilliant plan to get outfitted with cold weather gear in the US failed. For one, I belated realized that Americans don’t have boxing day, so boxing weeks sales were a bust. On top of that, two separate people at outfitter stores told us that all their winter boots are mostly sold out and in Fargo we were told that the manufacturers, like Sorel, have stopped making them. The footwear section at Steels in Fargo, on the border of Minnesota and North Dakota had a large selection of running shoes and only three types of winter boots in limited sizes. Perhaps in this part of the US they consider late December a herald to the arrival of spring. In fact, despite the -23 C weather most locals were sporting bare heads or ball caps. There was not a toque to be seen on a head during our hour of shopping at Cabela’s Outfitter outside Minneapolis and I spotted only three toques in all of North Dakota.
Questionable cold weather clothing was only one of the many Americanisms I spotted. There was a very nice man at the entrance to Cabela’s whose sole job appeared to be checking in firearms. Americans seem to put a whole lot more effort into their shopping centres than we do. Cabela’s was brimming with stuffed animals and animals heads adorning walls and displays of outdoor dioramas.
The American style of store decor delighted Oscar. Steels in Fargo had an indoor ferris wheel that prompted an awed “Wow” from young Ozzie when he saw it. After being cooped up in a car or motel room for the last few days, Rich and I thought it was worth the $1 to take him on a ride, and he was just barely tall enough.”I love this a lot mummy,” he said as we rose towards the ceiling, “I never want to get down.”
Oscar has been taking the trip in stride. He asks if it’s okay to sleep in the car as he cuddles mousie and bunny (we failed in creativity while naming Oscar’s stuffed animals) and at any opportunity he brags to people that he is in an adventure. I suspect he doesn’t want to rock the boat considering the near unlimited access he’s had to mummy’s iPad. Plus there’s the snacks!
The drive today was fair, dry roads and no wind or snow, despite dire predictions on the news this morning. Fortunately when they gave the temperature forecast in Fahrenheit I was blissfully unaware of the deep freeze we were headed towards. Whitehorse was actually a good 10 C warmer than here today. I drove part way today with no incident other than struggling to stay sharp while driving past a flat white landscape with few trees to break up the monotony.
Fargo was a particular disappointment. I had a vague, no doubt faulty memory of a quaint town from the movie of the same name. Instead, it was cold, flat, treeless and packed with big box stores, power lines and parking lots. The accent was everything I thought it would be though, and the people were super friendly.
Tomorrow we will cross back into Canada where we can use our cell phones, get data services, banish the penny, recycle our bottles and where I assume people will go back to wearing toques. Hoorah!
The weather on the morning of the second day was much more confidence-inspiring than the first morning.
Ontario to Yukon, Day Two
Kalamazoo, Michigan to Eau Claire, Wisconsin
753 kms, 13 hours
What should have been a 7 hour drive today took more than 12 hours. Construction delays, toll booths, dodgy roads, coffee breaks, slower max speeds with a trailer and a 3-year-old boy with a strangely random and urgent peeing schedule all conspired to almost double our travel time. We have ended up in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. We pass through Minneapolis tomorrow, our last big city before crossing the border.
My first experience driving with the trailer was hairy, tense and ill-timed. I had barely pulled out on to the I-94 near Chicago and traffic started picking up. Before long I was in the midst of cars and trucks zipping across lanes while bouncing across potholes and patchy road repairs. I think Richard’s experience as a passenger with me driving was more stressful than when he was the driver. He quickly suggested we switch again.
On the plus side, the weather was great. The temperate was up to 7 degrees in Illinois and the roads were dry. I’ll write more tomorrow since I can barely keep my eyes open and a comfy bed awaits.
Ontario to Yukon, Day One
Midland, Ontario to Kalamazoo, Michigan
803kms, 11 hours
It was day one of our epic (some would say foolish) journey and by 7am we were inching our 4runner and trailer out of the driveway. In the the dark surrounded by clouds of snow drifting down and amid tearful goodbyes between mothers and daughters, Grandfathers and Grandsons and everything in between, I felt a twinge of doubt. We must be mad. Over 5000 kms in to the far north in January with a dog and a three-year-old for nothing but the possibility of a job. The knots in my stomach tightened as we navigated highway 400 in what would have been white-out conditions in daylight. Pre-dawn it was a little more scary.
A few hours later we were heading towards the border at Sarnia, having braved the bad weather and a battle between iPhone and Garmin GPSs, the sun was shining, the road was clear and my confidence in our decision returned.
…and quickly started to fade again during an hour-long wait to cross the border while imagining border agents unpacking our trailer which was filled to the brim with items stuffed in every corner.
"If they search our trailer do they have to re-pack it?" I asked Rich, feeling pretty confident that in that case once they took a peek they would look no further.
"No, I think you have to re-pack it," Rich answered.
We both paused to mentally calculate how many hours that would take.
We spent the rest of the hour alternating between giving each other pep talks about how we would handle a search and trying not to think about it. When we finally did make it to the border, answered a few cursory questions and were waved on, it almost felt like an anti-climax. Although I have to say it was maybe the most satisfying anti-climax in my life.
Once in the USA we drove through what would normally be a pretty boring landscape. On this occasion every tree branch was covered in a glistening coat of ice and the low sun shining through made the forests look like they were glowing. I felt like I was travelling through a strange ice world. In a weird way, the alien nature of the landscape made me feel like we were really on an adventure, even though we were only a few hours from home.
Six hours down the road in Kalamazoo, MI, the ice was gone, the temperature was a balmy 2 degrees and we stopped for the night at a motel. Then we stopped for the night at another motel. Rich decided if Motel 6 advertised $39.99 a night he would not pay $55 when there was obviously lots of vacancies. We ended up at the Red Roof Inn which also advertised $39.99 a night. It ended up costing $55, but that was including taxes, so good enough for us.
Everyone has been exercised, fed and watered. Exhausted, we now nestle down to sleep and prepare for an early morning tomorrow.