Change of Plans: Edmonton to Calgary to Medicine Hat to Montana

Instead of heading straight east to Saskatchewan from Edmonton, I headed down to Calgary, stayed there last night, then headed to Medicine Hat this AM with a long stop at the Blackfoot (Siksika) Nation. More on that later.

I realized I had four days to get only 800 miles. So now I'm back tracking a bit to head on down to Montana to the Missouri Breaks National Monument, then head east along the US/Canada Border, then up to Winnipeg. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. For now.

The Northern Rockies Are Beautiful And A Nightmare / Beware / New Humility

Liard Hot Springs to Fort Nelson

I spent the night at a pullout near Contact Creek on the Alaskan Highway. I knew that Liard Hot Springs was something worth checking out. From the Alaskan border, the Highway threads its way from Yukon, south to B.C., back into the Yukon and back into B.C. You get to see the “Super, Natural - British Columbia Welcomes You” signs before you knew you had left its super-natural-ness.

So I found Liard Hot Springs and walked down the wooden boardwalk, over a steaming, shallow, geothermal swamp, through the forest to the pool. Except for a guy who was leaving, and two guys entering, the place was empty. The upper bath was closed due to a bear and her cubs seen in the area, a worker later told me. The upper bath was a 5 minute walk to the one I was in. Not much of a distance barrier.

But I changed into my trunks, waded in and relaxed in the sulfuric waters, which moved down a sort of creek. The waters here are not purposefully cooled down; they get up to 126F, but the water was naturally cooling off as it moved down stream.

I stayed long enough to feel I was sufficiently soaked and on the verge of over-doing it. I hit the road, knowing that I needed to get to Fort Nelson, 250 miles away in order to pay a dumb speeding ticket that I got in B.C. on my way to Alaska. I wanted to do it in person to make sure it’s hunky dory. So as I’m pulling back on to the highway I notice the rain is moving horizontally. And it’s bouncing off my windshield. This is because it’s freezing rain, sleet.

11AM:

The rain goes from flying ice to rain and back again for about an hour.

As I come around a turn, a huge elk is standing on the side of the road. I stop to get some video and after a few more turns, a few more elk appear near the road, and on the road.

Fifteen miles later a sign reads “Watch for buffalo”. And here come the buffalo. I pass one, then two, then a herd of them that are meandering around the road forcing me to stop again. When they finally move, I hit the gas and three minutes later I see a black bear to my right. He looks at me and runs back into the trees. Fifty yards later, there are two more buffalo.

I hit the Northern Rockies Lodge, gas up, and get moving. Now it’s snowing.

12PM:

The snow is going from light and fluffy to watery and back again, but the good thing is, it’s not sticking. Too warm. Especially too warm on the black top two lane highway.

1PM:

Now the snow is sticking. I’m slightly worried, but figure it won’t get much worse than this. I’m driving well below the speed limit.

I see some mule deer, then some skinny white tailed deer. They’re grazing in the side of the road and nonchalantly look at me as I pass. I thought it was interesting that they didn’t have deer in Alaska. Or at least that’s what I was told. Is it true? Must research.

The road begins to wind around a lake and as I take a slow turn, a big dark brown bear jumps out of a snow-covered bush about twenty feet ahead. I slam on the brakes and yell “Oh shit!” He lands on the side of the road and looks around. I stop about 10 feet from his huge head and look him in the eyes. Suddenly an 18-wheeler, that I didn’t know as there, starts to pull around me to pass, or had to move into the opposite lane to avoid hitting me, I’m not sure what, but he slams on the brakes. The bear leaps into action, scrambling faster than I’ve seen an animal move across the road, glancing back over his shoulder at the humans, to a steep embankment. He takes a moment then launches up the hill and lumbers into the trees. And all before I could get off a good shot. With my camera. Not my rifle. I don’t own one.


See the bear? He's in there.

1:32PM:

The weather is quickly getting worse, and the road is getting icier. It’s not melting into comfortable water that my oversized, but not snow-ready tires can slice through. It’s really sticking. And I’m driving very slowly.

And it’s a good thing because out of the snow flurries emerge another large species of animal. Reindeer. No kidding. I didn’t see that one coming either. First a few, then a small herd. They clomp around on the road in front of me and I slowly maneuver around them. Seems to be the trend. What next?

2:38:02PM:

Well, next is, the terrain becomes steep, and the snow is really coming down. Since I’m going up in elevation, the temperature is dropping. And since the road is a rollercoaster, five minutes up into worse weather and worse road, then five minutes down into slightly better weather and road, it’s a horrific replay of terror, then hope, then terror, then hope. I’m pushing a rock up a hill, and it keeps rolling back on me.

Meanwhile, as I’m crawling along, hoping I don’t have to put my chains on, trailer-hauling Chevy’s with four-wheel drive and snow tires are passing me by at full speed.

My only consolation is perhaps that their engines will fall apart 100,000 miles before the Tacoma’s will. And then I vow quietly to never get a truck without 4-wheel drive again. And damn these useless oversized tires! But I love you Tacoma, I love you. Just please get me to Fort Whatever-the-Hell.

I find a radio station to uplift my mood. The DJ comes on and introduces Britney Spears’ new hit single “Gimme More”, or some crap. I cannot die with Britney Spears on my radio. So I live on. Then I switch on some Mickey Avalon on the ipod. Good for sick energy… gallows humor.

3PM: No more animals, except one beast of a hill that’s covered in slushy, iced snow with a pair of faint tire tracks from whoever went ahead of me 20 minutes ago. Now the Tacoma is starting to slide. I detect quick losses of control even at 20 MPH. I’m not all over the place yet, but every couple of miles there’s a section of road that passes a long drop into a lake or canyon or river filled with bears, elk, reindeer and marmots ready to devour me. There seems to be no end to this Hell.

Suddenly a patch of slush sends me half way into the oncoming lane. So I pull over and put on the chains that I thought I’d never use on this trip. Thank you Boy Scouts. I’m brave, clean, reverent and prepared.

3:15PM With snow chains you can’t go over 20MPH or they might become undone and wrap around your axle. Then you’re really F-d. Especially in Northern B.C. (or am I in the Yukon?) But I’m going 20 anyways. Feeling a little better, though the road doesn’t seem to want to go down hill. We’re still on the rollercoaster. Then I see a frosted sign for an area called Summit. I say area because there are no towns on this section of highway, only roadhouses, four out of five of which are closed for the season or closed forever. Summit sounds like it should be the top. But it’s not.

4PM: Up and down, up and down. 15-20 MPH. Isn’t this September? What the hell is December like?

5PM: Finally relief. And more reindeer. After one last monster ridge climb and after 20 minutes of just rain and some freezing rain, I take the leap of faith that the worst is behind me. As I take off the chains, a guy in a Chevy with Alaska plates pulls up going the opposite way.

“Um, do you need chains up there?” he asks.

“Well, you’ll probably be alright. My tires just can’t handle it.” He smirks and drives off.

Around 5:30 I pull into Fort Nelson and it’s blowing sleet that later turns into snow. I have a hamburger at the A&W, where the girl offers me fries or poutin. I take the fries. I don’t want any more slush.

The RCMP station where I got square with British Columbia law enforcment:


We made it:


The humbling and beautiful Rockies in the rear view mirror:

From Whitehorse, Yukon

I'm currently on the Alaska Hwy and just wanted to do a quick update.

I exited Alaska after an amazing month of rambling from Juneau to Fairbanks to Anchorage, Homer, Seward and everything in between. I'm obviously taking my time with posting on the rest of the places I hit, but I want to do it right.

Yesterday, through a lot of rain and even some snow (I knew it would happen sooner or later), I re-entered Canada's Yukon Territory. So that's where I'm at right now Mama. Yukon, ho!

The Yukon is beautiful. There's so much more to it than I saw on the way up the first time. Or maybe it's me. It's a beauty that takes some time to sink in. Especially for a city boy like me. I've been born again in the Last Frontier! Amen brothers and sisters, Amen.

Today it's Whitehorse, the capital, and a very nice city. The Fall colors are really brightening up an otherwise cloudy and cold (and getting colder) area.

I'm heading to Winnipeg, Manitoba to meet up with Christina who will be my road-trippin' co-pilot to my cousin's wedding extravaganza in LaCrosse, Wisconsin. Looking forward to seeing all you who will be there. Party on!

At Home In Homer

So I camped out in Homer for the night at a campground tucked into a hillside. I went to sleep in the rain here....


...and awoke to this sight:


It's the Kachemak Bay:


What to do today? Since it’s not raining, only misting, I go for a jog on the Spit. Then head over to the Bear Creek Winery for some taste testing. They don’t grow grapes in these parts but they do grow berries and rhubarb. The rhubarb wine is the best. Like a sweet white zinfandel. Here are the lovely ladies of Bear Creek:


I check the paper and see there’s a “Sustainable Homer” forum going on at the Islands and Oceans Museum Center that I had just checked out. I go and am blown away by the people there. There must be 100 people by the time the first speaker begins. Everything from serious hippies in homemade clothing, to fishermen, to bikers, to millionaire businessmen (some of which are all the above). There’s lots of food and desserts and everybody is friendly. One of the speakers is the guy who owns the Chena Hot Springs that I visited back up near Fairbanks. He's talking about geothermal energy which you might think is boring. But he's so fired up and such a great, down-to-earth speaker that by the time he's done, I'm ready to drill for hot water. Good times.

Girdwood to Homer

So I headed out from Girdwood, and for the first time on this odyssey, I had a passenger. A friend of my uncle's needed a lift down to the town of Kenai where he lives. We were working together on the cabin and shared some beers around Girdwood. His name is Robert and he's got stories that I wouldn't believe if I didn't see the scars. This guy has been slapped by a bear, jumped on the back of a moose and hung on for a ride, fell off a 3 story balcony, got caught by a hook on a fishing trawler and yanked into the water, and that's just the beginning. He's a Yup'ik Eskimo originally from a village near Nome (his grandfather was saved by the famous serum). He's a great guy and obviously has more lives than a cat:


Kevin's Cantina cabin in Girdwood. It's pretty awesome... he's very meticulous and it's solid!:


This is a Russian Orthodox church off the highway from Kenai to Homer... a place called Ninilchik. The Russians owned Alaska, of course, before the US bought it for something like a bag of shiny beads. So there are many reminders of that time:


This bald eagle greeted me as I pulled over the hill into Homer.


On the famous Homer spit sits the famous Salty Dog Saloon. The lighthouse light shines during business hours beckoning salty dogs to drink.

Death and Stucco in Girdwood

Before you start thinking I'm romanticizing things up here, Let me tell you the real deal about Alaska. I'm going to give you the Big Picture as I've come to know it.

The average person up here eats meat and/or fish, a portion of which they have personally killed. Many people are even considered eligible for "sustenance hunting" and pay like $5 for a license to kill what they need for their families all year. That's the culture. In Fairbanks, it seemed like everybody was armed to the teeth. And eager for blood.

*I saw a guy buying a .357 Magnum in a Fred Meyer's (it's like a Wal-Mart), while soccer moms bought organic tomatoes a few aisles down. You are encouraged to carry a rifle in the state parks for protection.

*It's like Africa here. Big Game that will rip you a new one. And lots of white folks that are out to bag 'em.

You get the picture.

GIRDWOOD: I met up with Uncle Kevin in Girdwood. He's been here quite some time and was my link to this neck of the woods. He's building a cabin in this small town which happens to have the largest ski resort in all of Alaska. So I jumped into the construction of the cabin and became a pro stucco-slather-er (for some cash).

Proof:




Note to self: Avoid doing stucco.

But I did have a fun time in Girdwood. Uncle Kevin showed me around town and introduced me to some serious characters here. One of them was a guy who has spent a lot of time in the Bush, meaning Northwest Alaska, the land of no roads. The only thing to do up there is work and hunt and trap animals. He was good at it and showed me his collection (top of post). Sorry my vegetarian friends, but like I said, that's how it goes here.

Another interesting dude was a guy named Robert. He was helping with the cabin and I later gave him a lift down to Kenai. I'll regail you with some of his tales later. Stay tuned.

I'm winding down my time here in the great state of Alaska, and still catching up with the blogging... lots of catching up.

Hugs and kisses. JP

There's Gold In Anchorage

Seems everything around Alaska has some history linked to gold. Some real gold, some fool's gold, and a lot of black gold... oil that is... Texas Tea.

You can pan for gold, see gold flecks, and check out old gold mines. Tens of thousands of people have come searching for the shiny stuff. But like Neil Young, I'm a just searching for a heart of gold.

That may sound cheesy, but sometimes you don't know where a metaphor is going to take you. Anyways, I found some of those gold hearts in Anchorage.

My dad's side of the family is from a very small town in Wisconsin. A family down the street from them had son named John who hitch-hiked to Alaska in the early '70s. A pioneer in the last frontier.

John has lived there for around 30 years and has a great family of his own now. My uncle put me in touch with John, and before I could even call, he was calling me up to offer a place to stay in Anchorage. He's a great, enthusiastic guy and I'm lucky to have met both he and his family.

He's also a talented, sought-after carpenter, and as I could use some gold for my pocket (and black gold for my truck), I helped him on the job. The project was to build a roof to cover a guy's bbq area so he can grill in the snow. A noble cause if there ever was one.

The worksite:


The cool worksite dog, Glacier:


Check out the handiwork:


I heard two different people call the man an artist, and I believe it to be true:


John and his family have taken great care of me here in Anchorage and I can't thank them enough. I've been fed well, had a bed to sleep in and even took in a Packers vs. Eagles game (Packers won ugly). I've met a ton of people here and gotten a good sense of the pulse of the city. Thanks guys!

Catching Up in Technicolor

This is on the stretch from Denali to Anchorage. The colors are changing, Fall is here:


I stopped here at Troublesome Creek. I was feeling troublesome, so it was fitting:


If you had x-ray vision, you'd be able to see Mt. McKinley through the clouds behind the ridge of mountains. It's about twice as high as those peaks. It's so big it creates it's own weather system which means clouds a majority of the time. I guess it's rare to see the peak.


And finally, a floatplane fetish moment for Scooter and I:

Seward and Resurrection Bay / Thank You, Thank You

Hi y'all, I'm in Seward, sitting on Resurrection Bay at the official start of the Iditarod Trail. It's very windy and a little chilly. This is a touristy town, but there aren't many around. I'm definitely catching the tail end of the season. Probably more like the post-game show. It's quiet. The sky is mostly clear and the view of the glacier-encrusted mountains that circle the town and bay is impressive.

Resurrection Bay fun facts:
It's a bay on the Kenai Peninsula of Alaska. It received its name from Alexandr Baranov, who was forced to retreat into the bay during a bad storm in the Gulf of Alaska. When the storm settled it was Easter Sunday, so the bay and nearby Resurrection River were named in honor of it. The opening of the film The Hunt for Red October was filmed in Resurrection Bay, with the bay serving as a stand-in for Russia's Murmansk Fjord. (from Wikipedia)

Also, I just wanted to say thanks for all the comments you've posted and emails you've sent. It really makes me feel connected to all of you, and I want to make sure you know it means a lot to me.

I'm posting to this blog as much as I can for a few reasons. First, I want to make sure I remember as much as I can, and writing this way is a good way to do that. It keeps one focused on keeping things interesting. Telling a story in semi real-time keeps you on your toes.

But just as important, I want to share this trip with you guys. I want you to feel like a little piece of you is here. And also, I really think everyone should make a trip to Alaska. I see something every day that makes me stop, widens my eyes and sometimes makes me cry. This place will do that to you.

I'm putting about 1% of what I see into words. There are so many amazing facts, stories and characters, it could fill an encyclopedia. Although I frequently make a turn down a strange road just to see what's there, there are so many things I'm passing up that I just don't have the time or money for.

Hopefully I'm giving you a decent glimpse of what this part of the country is like from the view of a road-bum making it up as he goes along.

So, for you, for me, for us...Thank you, I love you, Cheers!

Northern Lights, Into The Wild, and Denali Dogs

After recovering in the hot springs I departed Fairbanks on the George Parks Hwy or Alaska Route 3 toward Anchorage. This is the route you take to get to Denali National Park which, of course, contains the tallest mountain in North America, Mt. McKinley (or Denali, depending on who you ask). On the way I stopped for the night at a desolate truck pull-off. I knew this might be my best chance to see the Aurora Borealis so I put on my heavy coat and sat, staring up. Within around 10 minutes a green streak painted the sky, moving from west to east as if a brush was pulling watercolor. It was amazing. I couldn't get a pic of it, but it looked much like this:


(Courtesy of the Michigan Tech website)

I woke up in the AM and headed toward the Denali Park entrance. Along the way, I stopped at a roadhouse that offered coffee and showers. I wanted to look spiffy for the National Park Rangers, so I grabbed a shower. Robin, the owner, gave me a few good stories about people who run out of gas, break down, or lose their minds out in the bush there. Seems they all end up at her Fireweed Roadhouse and she occasionally has had to call the cops. She said there are some hermits that she only sees every few years when they come out for water. This is the area where Christopher McCandless hiked out on the Stampede Trail and never came back.

McCandless' self portrait (from Wikipedia):



I believe the Sean Penn movie "Into The Wild" (based on the book) had an opening night showing in Fairbanks. One thing you notice about Alaskans is that they are well prepared for the harsh realities here. They're honest and straightforward about life here. It's a great, fun, beautiful place, but dangerous situations become life-and-death situations very rapidly. The general consensus here is that McCandless' death was unnecessary and sad.

An old Tlingit saying which is basically "you have to be an idiot to starve in Alaska." That sounds harsh, and it probably doesn't exactly apply to where McCandless died, as the Tlingits are closer to the coast. But you have to know what you're getting into in Alaska. Personally, I appreciate his idealism and enthusiasm, but it's apparent that there's little mercy for the naive out there.

Anyhoos, at the Denali Park Entrance, as promised in my Lonely Planet Guide, it was mobbed with busses and tourists, but they were pretty well behaved. I took a leisurely stroll around and checked out the Denali Dog Kennels where they keep the mushers that pull the patrol sleds in the long winters. There was even a demonstration, which the dogs took very seriously. Here are the Denali husky mushers (courtesy of my Canon Powershot):



If I was venturing out there in the dead of winter, I'd definitely want a team of these guys to keep me company (and do the work).


The cockpit:


The Next Generation snoozing:


Hrm...

Fairbanks / Chena River / Mooses, Meeses, or Meese?

OK, so I got to Fairbanks and headed pretty quickly to the Chena Hot Springs. I had heard good things, I hadn't showered in three days and my back was hurting. The hot springs are about an hour up a river valley from Fairbanks. A very laid back resort sits at the top of this canyon and the hot spring water is fed into a large pool ringed with boulders. A fire hose-looking thing in the middle of the pool shot up cool water in case you got too hot. $10 gets you a day pass... but I only needed two hours for the waters to cured my ills.

Here's the boulder-lined pool:


Mooses in the Chena River State Park:


My camp on the Chena River:


Doug and Judy, below. They were from Flint, Michigan. Doug had the most interesting rig I'd seen yet. Behind his Chevy, he was pulling a flat-bed trailer with a camper, a boat, a freezer and a 50 gallon auxillary tank of gas on it. He had been all over Alaska hunting deer, fishing halibut and now he was after a moose. Good people:


I'm currently in Girdwood at Uncle Kevin's. Still need to get on the road to Homer, but this is a fun town. Hard to leave.

Yukon Desolation Madness

After Haines, I headed for Fairbanks, Alaska. The thing about this leg of the journey is, you actually have to go back into Canada to get to the Interior of Alaska. So I drove north from Haines through the Chilkat Eagle Preserve (didn't see any), and made my way into British Columbia. Then after a few hours of tree-less permafrost, the Yukon Territory awaits.

The Yukon is a strange land. You go for miles without seeing a soul. Then suddenly there's a road construction project. Or a deserted Texas chainsaw roadhouse.

The Alcan Hwy in this region is horrible. It's rippled, potholed and torn up by the constant melting and refreezing of the permafrost underneath and around. Some sections are simply gravel. Hundreds of miles of the Alaska Hwy are like this and going faster than 35mph is a death-wish. And if you do have any car trouble, the closest services are many hours away.

As bad as it is, it's you're only choice for driving into Alaska.

The Yukon:


Strange cloud formations:


I don't know what was destroyed in Destruction Bay:


Grated gravel decline of doom:


Alaska at-lasta! again! bwahahhaha!

Haines / Beers / Bears / Oh My

My first stop in Haines... side of the road next to a quiet inlet for the night:


The Haines Brewery. Very small, but the Spruce Tip Ale is really good:


I found these mushrooms in the forest and decided to eat them. Just kidding! I bought them from a guy who found them in the forest. It was a farmer's market so it was probably safe. Regardless, I'm still alive. And they tasted good in my hobo stew:


A brown bear near the Chilkoot River:


A black bear chowing on a salmon in the Chilkoot River:


Same guy:


I discovered upon arriving in town that it was Mardi Gras! But wait, you may say, isn't Mardi Gras usually in the spring, like before Easter or something? Yes, in the rest of the world, but in Haines, it's September 1st. Apparently an old Nawlins native moved up here and decide the Fall needed a holiday. I can tell you, it went off.

This guy had the biggest balls and was looking for a lady to give them to, with the appropriate transaction details:






Eventually, of course, there was the "show your boobs" contest. Alaskan ladies aren't afraid: