Monday, July 13, 2009

The Last Great Highway on Earth

Day 15 – Saturday, July 11

Dalton Highway

“Over four hundred miles of gravel, winding through the arctic wilderness. The lifeline of the Trans Alaska Pipeline, driveway for rural residents, and gateway to Earth's most magnificent wilderness region. Truckers, miners, and indigenous residents working together against the elements to help each other subsist. More traveled by caribou than man. The last great highway on Earth.” - quote found at the Yukon River Camp
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We left Fairbanks, a new day, a fresh start. Yesterday was rough for me. Nothing particularly challenging about the ride or the day, I was just tired and struggled to stay alert for most of it. One of the things I love about motorcycle riding is that, even 2 weeks into the trip, getting on the bike in the morning is like pressing the refresh button. There's no lingering fatigue from the day before and you can hop on feeling ready to go. Just eighty miles out of Fairbanks we hit the Dalton Highway, also known as the Haul Road and so named for the industrial trucks that haul equipment and supplies for the pipeline. First rule of the road: yield to big trucks.

The sign for the Dalton Highway is littered with stickers and names of people that have been before – like us, seeing this as one of the last big adventures to be had in Northern America. Immediately following are yellow warning signs cautioning that the pavement ends and that commercial trucks frequent the highway – we stop to take a picture. This road will lead to the arctic circle.

The road is of course dirt, but surprising easy to navigate at this point and the miles fly by with the biggest challenge staying far enough behind James to avoid being engulfed in the trail of dust that lingers behind him like the contrail of a jet plane. We watch the pipeline snake across the landscape, looking like a never-ending tube slide at a water park. Everything else is pristine and the pipe, oddly enough, looks in place with its own young history and mystique. It is, after all, the reason why we can come this far north by land – and this is truly and amazing wilderness to see.

We ride through Boreal forest – a mix of spruce, aspen and birch - the southern face of the slopes denser because of the more generous share of sunlight they receive. Permafrost creates marshes and bogs where green grass grows tall. Fire is a part of the life cycle here, and looking across the hills you can see where fires have burned their way through the forests, seeming to selectively choose a narrow path, burning some and leaving other parts untouched. Patches are covered with fireweed flowers in dense blankets. The name for fireweed originally perplexed us, as it's neither red nor orange, but rather a pretty pinkish-purple. Now the name is now longer a mystery as it's clear that these flowers brightly spring up for morale where fire has left it's mark. Some of the mountains are completely covered in purple.

We reach the Arctic Circle, marked by a wooden sign at a turnoff on the road. Here in summer, the sun takes a never-ending bow along the horizon, but never really sets. Just within and with a change in elevation we reach the arctic tundra. Within minutes the trees disappear and what's left is an landscape of lichen-covered rocks and hardy, low-lying shrubs and flowers. This is caribou country and the home of the musk ox, wolf, arctic fox, arctic hare and of course, bear.

We reach Cold Foot Camp – a stop along the road that's not big enough to claim itself a town. We stop at the gas station/general store/motel/restaurant for dinner and to gas up. Across the road, and the only other thing in town is a visitor center. It was a beautiful interpretive center with amazing displays and helpful locals.

One of the displays had some alarming advice about dealing with bears: If a bear is on the defensive, stay calm and speak to it in a calming manner. If it continues and makes an attack you should lay face down and play dead with your legs apart so that he can't flip you over. If the bear starts to feed on you, you should fight back, because now the bear is no longer in a defensive mode, but rather a predatory one.

Ya think? I'm not making that up.

At the visitor center, we received advice on where to camp and met a German fellow on a KTM that we are camping with. All is well and the road from here promises to get a bit more challenging. Word is the Brook mountain range pass is covered in 2 inches of mud. Looking forward to tomorrow it will be difficult to sleep despite our weariness.

From pics-day15-16

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4 comments:

  1. Wish I was with you. Sounds incredible! It's wonderful that you planned and went forward with your trip. Everything sounds great. Love the pictures. You will have stories to tell.
    God Bless You Both.
    Aunt Suzie & family

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  2. I check out your location and blog updates everyday, you guys are living the dream although I'm sure there are times you ask yourself, "What the hell were we thinking?"...

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  3. Hey Pat,

    There are times we are riding along and I think to myself, "Wow, we are really doing this. This isn't a movie I'm watching.... I'm freakin DOING this!"

    It's long days for sure and it's work keeping up with the blog, but I wouldn't trade it - it's been amazing so far.

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  4. the sign went on to say, "if you find yourself having been entirely consumed by a bear you will be dead, maybe even before, probably way before entirely, but definetly by the time you are entirely eaten, for sure"

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