latitude 64.8401° N, 147.7200° W

Our Alaskan summer was perfectly and beautifully unpredicted! 

It's said the secret to finding lasting love is to live your life, be yourself and the right person will adore you. This proved true for our daughter, Carlisle, when she reconnected with her friend Luke. Their lives had taken them different directions, but....timing is indeed everything. On July 16th, surrounded by high mountain peaks and embraced by the log walls of their emerging cabin on Chandalar Lake, they committed to an Alaskan life together. 

In the past, when asked about visiting Fairbanks I would have advised against it. Not only is it Alaska's largest northern city, five plus hours from our cabin in Talkeetna, and seven hours from Anchorage, it’s unbelievably cold in winter and can be very hot and smoky in summer. However, what Fairbanks does have is proximity to countless miles of wilderness. It is indeed the gateway to the North. With a rich history of gold mining, trapping. hunting and dog mushing, Fairbanks maintains a frontier feel. Now, with Luke and Lisle splitting time between their cabin and lodge on Chandalar Lake and Fairbanks, we have every reason to visit. 

It didn't take long for me to feel comfortable navigating the streets of this small city of 32,000 hearty souls.

The University of Alaska dominates the hillside outside of town. This research rich university is a leader in northern studies. I spent several hours at the Museum of the North, seen in the center of the photo above. https://www.uaf.edu/museum/plan-your-visit/hours/index.php 

The museum has exhibits and artifacts showing arctic life both past and present. The art gallery was of particular interest to me. While many universities have agricultural programs involving cattle and horses, UAF has a reindeer and a musk ox farm! I was able to meander among the reindeer without joining the required tour, but as I was photographing a musk ox, I was spotted by a tour guide and politely asked to join a tour. I chose to leave. Not far from UAF is Creamer's Field Migratory Waterfowl Refuge. https://www.adfg.alaska.gov/index.cfm?adfg=creamersfield.main 

Bucky and I watched as flocks of sandhill cranes announced their arrival with their unique voices. Our dog was fascinated by the sound and would have gladly sent them back into the air if not for her leash.

Once on the ground, the cranes stood regally alert, as if accustomed to posing for photographs.

Interesting shops and ethnic restaurants are scattered throughout downtown Fairbanks. We enjoyed Korean, Thai and Moldavan food. https://sobarestaurant.com/about But, in my opinion, Fairbanks’ “piece de resistance" are its amazing transfer stations. I call them dumps. Here, everything and anything can be disposed of free of charge. Dozens of dumpsters  line the perimeter of each transfer site. Patrons drive alongside filling their chosen receptacle with bags of garbage, broken household items, construction waste, toys, furniture and more. Each transfer site has an area set aside for those, “I could use that” type items. It’s here that one can find appliances, barbeque grills, sporting equipment and other lightly used cast offs. Some people choose to leave their donations  propped against their chosen dumpster rather than transporting them to the designated area and that’s where I found the white porch rocker. It sat alongside a pair of snowshoes, each representing  a vastly different level of activity. I had no doubt I wanted the rocker and not the snowshoes. I had just finished loading the rocker into our truck when I spied a  gentleman, several dumpsters down, placing two white Adirondack chairs beside his receptacle. Without hesitation or embarrassment, I swooped in under the watchful eye of another desiring young woman. I smiled at her politely as the Adirondack chairs joined the rocker in the bed of the pickup, thus completing Luke and Lisle's deck furniture set. 

If I were a Fairbanks’ resident, I’d definitely follow in my family footsteps as a dump picker. My mother and her Dad were two of the finest and at this moment I could feel their pride in me shower down from above.

Fairbanks is just 113 miles south of the Arctic Circle. We spent the first two weeks of September enjoying this unique landscape with our sons, Levi and Sutton.

They looked forward to seeing their sister, meeting their new brother-in-law and doing some caribou hunting. We began our drive north on the Dalton Highway, also known as the Haul Road. This gravel road is one of the most northern roads in the world and the only road within the US leading to the Arctic Ocean. It was constructed to support the building of the trans Alaska pipeline which carries petroleum products 800 miles from Prudhoe Bay, on the Arctic Ocean, to ships waiting in Valdez, Alaska. The Haul Road is used year around transporting supplies and equipment to Prudhoe Bay.

https://dot.alaska.gov/highways/dalton/highway-the-haul-road/

The pipeline looks unimpressive when considering 35,000 gallons of oil per minute can flow through its 48" diameter.

River camp at Yukon Crossing

We traveled 250 miles from Fairbanks to Coldfoot.  Those who may have watched the reality TV show "Ice Road Truckers" will remember Coldfoot as the truckers final stop for fuel and food before heading over treacherous Atigun Pass. The show focused on winter travel and it was on the pass that the trucks were usually shown in trouble, often seen slipping uncontrollably backward accompanied by frantic expletives from the drivers. The Coldfoot Cafe reserves a long table off the main dining area for these drivers. Although I'm poking fun at the TV show, driving a big rig into the Brooks Range in winter is no joke.

A sweet young girl served us coffee in the cafe and then passed through a doorway to serve the boys a beer. Although a human could pass in and out through this doorway, alcohol could not. Interestingly, our server had graduated from UVM (the University of Vermont) and was from Stamford, Connecticut. She had taken the job to see and do "something different". I assume she found what she was looking for!

The birches and poplars which surrounded us in Fairbanks, were now replaced by Alaska's boreal forest (sometimes called "taiga"). Spindly spruce, mosses, berries and scrub brush covered the rolling landscape. Occasionally, a granite tor punctured the earth shooting skyward. It was a colorful mosaic of changing leaves, marshes and clear rivers. This ecosystem is one of extremes, formed from cold temperatures, permafrost and forest fire.

Finger Rock, a granite tor.

From Coldfoot, our transportation was by airplane. Tyrrell's Trail Lodge is located on Chandalar Lake within the roadless interior of Alaska. 

https://tyrrellstrails.com/

A rainbow announced our Coldfoot departure. Luke was able to get five of us and our gear into the Cherokee. After a brief stop at the lodge, Luke switched airplanes and one by one we were placed in the field. 

Looks like a dragonfly, but it's a helicopter!

The tundra tires made for a soft landing.

We soon had camp set up and prepared for a good night's sleep before the morning hunt. 

The treeless terrain made for easy walking unless dipping into the stream bottom. Here we were able to retrieve water, as well as from seeps that appeared in the low lying tundra. Blueberries could still be found and added Alaskan flavor to our morning oatmeal and pancakes. I couldn't resist dragging my hands through the Labrador Tea releasing its lavender like scent into the air. Lichen and mosses, so delicious to caribou, created a soft and silent ground cover when walking.

No doubt caribou were all around us, but it took some stalking and assessment to choose the right bulls. Groups of animals passed through the valleys moving rapidly as they grazed. They would appear suddenly from over a slight rise or could be watched approaching for miles. Subtle dips in terrain played tricks with our eyes and made it difficult to judge distances. A range finder helped in this situation. Despite wearing camouflage clothing, certain animals keyed right in to our location. This forced Sutton and Carlisle to belly crawl in an attempt to close the gap between them and a bull she had her eye on.

A poor picture of the bull Carlisle was interested in, but it never got in range.

Levi stood on a high ridge, allowing him to look for animals traveling in two separate valleys. He developed a unique set of hand signals to let us know what was approaching. These became quite entertaining back at the lodge.

Rocky outcroppings made excellent glassing and rest locations. From here it was possible to glass several directions without moving. We named the rocks pictured below Raven’s Ridge, after a very social raven had entertained us with vocalizations and comical antics.

Scouting and good shooting soon paid off for Levi and Sutton. Carlisle didn't find what she was looking for, but she'll have a lifetime of opportunities. For Bucky and me, it was pure joy to be part of it all.

Chandalar Lake in the background.

Levi's bull.

Not only were the hills and valleys rich in wildlife, they were also rich in crystals. Levi attempted to explain, being a geology major in college, how the crystals were formed and why they were here. We feigned interest in his explanation, but like every Alaskan miners before us, we were anxious to dig. Using primitive tools we began excavation.

I had found the first flat crystal lying above ground. Lisle's eyes lighted up when I returned to camp holding it. She made me return to the spot where I had found it, convinced that there were more and that I had found a vein. Her assessment proved true!

We spent our remaining time hunting, mining, eating and doing the small things that make family time special.

Thick fog covered the ground on the day of our departure. 

Luke made multiple trips flying us back to the lodge. Once there, we thoroughly enjoyed the company of his parents. His Dad, Rick, keeps the many moving parts of the lodge operation running smoothly while his Mom, Laurel keeps everyone moving by feeding hungry bodies and providing comfy beds. Some days there are just a few mouths to feed and other days many mouths. We enjoyed caribou stew, sheep burgers, caribou tongue and Levi’s favorites, Beer Bread and Cherry Jubilee. Sitting together at one long table and eating family style, is the perfect way to enjoy food and family. It was interesting to see what goes into operating a remote lodge. Airplanes were constantly in use placing or moving guides, packers and hunters. Meals, cabins and tents are made ready for those arriving while meat and gear are transported for successful hunters. It seemed a pickup was always going to or from Coldfoot on the Haul Road. 

We were able to use the lodge's well set up meat cutting table and vacuum sealer for our own caribou meat. The meat was then put into freezers until our departure. Electricity is provided by generators and appliances are propane. Luke’s Dad showed me the "cold hole", a steel drum buried in the ground near the kitchen with an insulated lid. Laurel had asked him to get lettuce and cheese which was stored there. After lifting the top, he reached down and quickly retrieved the items, cold but not frozen. Rick said they plan to dig several more cold holes for next season. This is definitely a good idea for our North East Kingdom cabin! 

                                                            The lodge

          Numerous comfy wall tents for folks like us.

                                               Client cabin

Once our caribou were in the freezer, Bucky and the boys went to work on Luke and Lisle’s cabin. Despite some rain, they were able to raise an end wall, install the main beam, set rafters and put metal roofing on. The needed materials were carefully thought out by Luke and transported by airplane during the summer. 

A million dollar view!

For me, leaving Chandalar was difficult. Having Carlisle, Luke and a their new life further north in Alaska means greater periods of separation. Yet, living their lifestyle is undeniably attractive. I just wish I was 20....maybe 30 or even 40 years younger.

We left Alaska at the end of September. I write this from North Dakota as we make our way back to Vermont. It's a long, varied and beautiful drive. If you ever desire to see the breadth of America and a great portion of Canada, it's for you.

We wound through the mountains, curve after curve undulating as if riding the black back of a common garter snake, characteristically adorn with yellow stripes. 

Passing not advised when riding this asphalt reptile.

Our road often ran alongside a river taking the easiest route through mountain passes. The engineering required when constructing this roadway would seem to be simple, follow the water's path. Nature as our guide.

 

Having received the Fall memo to dress in leaves of golden yellow, the aspens displayed accordingly!

Next stop, Vermont and her Fall foliage splendor! 

Alaska Highway July 2022

Pika had no idea what two weeks of confinement would feel like.

We waited our turn to approach the sign in Dawson Creek, BC indicating the start of the Alaska Highway, mile 0 of 1390 miles. 

This group with beautifully restored vehicles were surely just posers. The Highway can provide travelers with stone pecks and sometimes a cracked windshield as souvenirs of the journey. We'll travel on it for 1282 miles, from Dawson Creek, British Columbia, through parts of the Yukon, to Tok, Alaska. Just south of Tok we’ll leave the Yukon crossing back into the US. It's always exciting to arrive in Alaska. Tok is a town anxious to receive road weary travelers. Here we'll spend the night alongside semis and campers in the gravel parking lot of Fast Eddy’s. This restaurant is an oasis for food and drink. After a night of interrupted sleep, due to patrons arriving and exiting the bar next to Fast Eddy's and trucks idling, we'll drive the final 350 miles to our cabin in Talkeetna. While we veer off in Tok, the Alaska Highway continues on, ending in Delta, AK south of Fairbanks.

Most of our overnights are spent in Walmart parking lots. There we are joined by truckers and campers of all varieties. Each rig checks out where others are parked, trying to group up near lawn and garden or, in a particularly large lot, park as far from the entrance as possible. I generally call ahead to make sure overnight stays are allowed. Some nights are quieter than others, but we’ve never felt uncomfortable camping in this way. The parking lot lights and movement of vehicles in and out provides a bizarre sense of security. Add in Pika's "no nonsense" bark.

I sipped my coffee in Fort St John, BC while watching the fluid yoga moves of our neighbor. His body had been kissed by extended hours of sun. I wondered if this had occurred on the beaches of Hawaii, California or perhaps on a sailboat in the tropics. When he looked my way, I dropped my camera to my side. His limber athletic body defied his age and he moved effortlessly in the cool Canadian air. My dormant muscles longed to join in, but I took another sip of coffee and turned away. Each traveler embodies a unique story.

It's sometimes hard for others to view a Walmart parking lots as gold at the end of the rainbow.

Summer is when road construction occurs on the Alaska Highway. It's an ongoing battle against the permafrost to keep the paved road smooth. The underlayer is constantly changing causing buckling and heaving. The frost heaves can be severe, causing damage to vehicles that travel too quickly across such an uneven surface. A smooth stretch lulls us into complacency and the speedometer needle climbs, only to be shaken back into reality when bounced by unanticipated wavy pavement. Some years are worse than others with long work area delays and guidance by pilot cars. We encountered very little road maintenance, but when we did....... it involved dust!

We experienced some sunny days on which the snow capped mountains made me reach for my camera at each turn in the road. But, the majority of our days were foggy and rainy with low clouds sweeping across the mountain peaks. These dark days presented a changing panorama when viewed through the swiping wiper blades. 

The Highway takes us through two of BC's provincial parks, Stone Mountain and Muncho Lake.. It is here that we often see wildlife. This trip, we saw fewer bears than normal and those we saw were reluctant to pose for pictures. We seem to see more bears when traveling earlier in the Spring.

Stone Sheep ewe and lamb

Turquoise blue Muncho Lake

This one posed!

The Alaskan Highway was constructed between March and October of 1942. This was after the bombing of Pearl Harbor and its construction was seen as necessary in the WWII war effort. The road was open to the public in 1948. It was not the road of today. There were few services and harsh road conditions. Those using the road in its infancy utilized the many lodges scattered along the route for rest, food and auto repairs. Most of these facilities are now shuttered and barricaded. Modern automobiles, bigger towns with motels and services have eliminated the need for the old lodges. However, we spent a night at Toad River Lodge one of the original lodges that has been modernized and well maintained. Here we showered, plugged into power and celebrated Bucky’s 76th birthday by eating Bison burgers and devouring a frosted cinnamon bun. Cinnamon buns are a sought after commodity along this road and on this day it was a well deserved birthday cake.

Summit Lodge was abandoned before our first trip in 2008.

Only 800 more miles to the AK border

The frost heaves and broken pavement intensified as we neared the Alaskan border. We took back most of what we had said about the highway being smoother than normal. Our RV was loaded down with totes from home, Minnesota and with hunting gear and tools. Each jarring jolt had me covering my head in anticipation of something being dislodged and spiraling down from the overhead bunk.

Just when it seemed the border could not come fast enough, the hillsides erupted in purple fireweed. Needing to slow our speed because of road conditions allowed us to take in the surrounding beauty. Nature has a way of  slowing one's pace. Fireweed lined the roadsides, filled the valleys and crawled up the hills. It appeared in stark contrast to the charred Spruce remains of past fires.

This truck appears to be carrying a train's snowplow,

Our final night in Fast Eddy's pot holed parking lot ended our Highway travel.  While we celebrated our return to Alaska, others prepared for their adventure through Canada. 

I threw a ball for Pika and she looked confused as to if this was our final destination or if she would soon, once again, be bouncing along. The midnight sun shown through a pink haze and the air smelled of smoke carried here from the many fires burning around Alaska. Tomorrow we'll travel the final 350 miles to our cabin. Once there, I'll throw the ball many more times for Pika and she'll soon remembers her Alaskan home. I'm hoping she doesn't remember how much she enjoyed digging in our Alaskan compost bin!