A customary overnight stop at the home of our friends, Tim and Judy, in Chinook, MT always provides a welcomed break, warm conversation and much needed showers. Our dog, Pika, joined in our pleasure, running off leash through the surrounding fields of tall grass. Our only regret was missing the extended family including six lovely grandchildren. So often in the past we’ve landed in Chinook on a birthday and have shared in cake and ice cream. This time was no different as it was Judy’s birthday. Unfortunately, she’d gone camping with friends and took her party and cake with her!
Rather than taking our usual route to Sweetgrass, Montana and crossing here into Alberta. We crossed in Wild Horse, MT.
Fields of canola brighten a day made hazy by wildfire smoke.
This church sits in a farmyard, begging the question, which came first?
Signpost at Wild Horse border crossing.
Cowboy silhouettes, not Big Foot, crest the hill as we head to the border
Miles of grassland dotted with cattle abruptly morphed into green hills. Towns with the names Manyberries, Elkwater and Medicine Hat conjured images of a time when native people inhabited this land.
The suburbs of Calgary seem to grow larger each year. Planned communities in which houses are placed within yards of one another would make it essential to “love thy neighbor “.
The oil rich land from Edmonton to Grand Prairie competes with farmland. Oversized farm equipment being towed down the highway, is passed by heavy oil tankers. We hold steady in our lane, moving along with less urgency.
Tomorrow we’ll start our journey on the Alaska Highway beginning at mile 0 in Dawson Creek, BC and getting off in Tok, AK, 1257 miles.
As I hefted the final tote overhead in the RV, it fit how I had envisioned, like a colorful yet awkwardly shaped jigsaw piece. It’s become easier, after more than a decade of summer repetition, to pack our motorhome and ready the house for renters. However, it’s become increasingly more difficult to leave Vermont and our children and grandchildren behind. Perhaps it’s because as I age, so do they! Our grandchildren are no longer babies and toddlers, but children and young adults with whom I now share conversations and life experiences. Most of our six grandchildren weren’t born when we began traveling to AK and now the eldest has graduated from high school! Heading off leaving infants and toddlers behind was much easier. I’ve now spent years bonding with these dynamic youngsters. We share so much time together during the year that when a small voice asked, “why do you have to go?”, it left me wondering. I miss summer birthdays, family bbqs, pond swims and seeing youthful exuberance unfold during summer vacation.
It’s a 4800 mile drive through the US and much of Canada to reach our cabin in AK. Averaging 450-500 miles a day, it will take us ten days with very limited stops….almost three weeks of our summer devoted to “the drive” that started the summer of 2008.
Tonight, with our motorhome nestled between a large box truck and tractor trailer, I crawled into bed and quickly fell asleep to the rumble of diesel engines. Our dog positioned herself on the bed and I welcomed the familiar pressure of her warm back against my thigh. Our first day of travel was relatively short, ending near Utica, NY, but as in years past, we celebrated the beginning.
Buffalo, Cleveland, Toledo, and now, 540 miles later we’re parked beside an island of grass in the Walmart parking lot of Angola, Indiana. The dog has quickly remembered the requirement to sit and wait until I navigate the RV steps and invite her to leave for her long awaited walk. I’m proud of her for remembering these life saving tasks that aren’t necessary in VT. I wonder if the woodchuck she sniffed out in the underbrush a year ago still lives here. By her twitching tail I assume it is.
Parking lot walks, strip mall store fronts and abutting neighborhoods can look familiar but in turn can be indistinguishable after repeated stays at the same Walmarts. I often ask my husband, Bucky, “does this look familiar to you?” I have a book, the Walmart Atlas, which helps us locate stores along our route. Then, I call to see if overnight stays are allowed. Many stores have changed their policy of welcoming travelers. I write in the “atlas” the date of our stay and sometimes a comment…..nice!, train whistles or crowded.
Chicago, Wisconsin Dell, Minneapolis, Fargo, Devils Lake, ND…..
The smoke of the wildfires burning in Canada dulled the usually green hills of Wisconsin. Red barns appeared pink in the haze and the sun had an eerie red glow. My throat scratched from breathing smoke.
The highway can present some interesting sights. Such was the case when this bus passed. It’s been a while for these boys.
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.
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.
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 mademultiple 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!
