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Friday, August 20, 1999

Alaska Trip Journal, Fall 1999

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Alaska Trip, Part I

Tuesday August 17, 1999

 

Packed the truck with gear and bikes. Built a platform, which I mounted the bikes to and sleep on if necessary. Put luggage and necessaries in containers under the platform. Odo 13300.

 

Wednesday August 18, 1999

 

Started my trip to BC! Nice drive from Rochester to Chicago. I am scheduled to pick up my Bigfoot Camper in Vernon at 8 AM next Friday. This leg took 9 hrs and 59 Minutes according to my Garmin GPS III+. Only delay was caused by bridge construction in Indiana � backed up for about 90 minutes. Total trip took 9 hours 59 minutes. Having trouble getting the GPS to talk to my laptop.

My friend Barclay was excellent company, as she slept most of the trip. Sarcasm aside, we only stopped 3 times, and never at her request. I was really impressed. A committed nicotine addict, she had 3 cigarettes in 10 hours and was pleasant company to boot. In fact, none of the stops were at her request.

Parked my truck at a hotel around the corner ($12 per day). Am fairly confident my possessions are safe, which is nice.

Thursday August 19, 1999

 

Psyched to be back in Chicago. Had a very productive day today. Straightened out some QuickBooks problems for my friends, visited my friend Marcy, then picked up my buddies Breck & Gui at Midway airport around Midnight. The GPS in Breck�s Lexus is much more user friendly than My Garmin and Map-n-Go on my notebook. Finding Midway was a breeze.

This trip has started out on the right foot.

 

Friday August 20, 1999

 

Worked most of the day. Barclay and I took Breck's K1200rs to Lakeshore Drive and walked along the lake. Vendors were setting up for the Air & Water show. Later the Thunderbirds practiced flying in and around the city � really amazing! I took some video from Chris� window.

 

Saturday August 21, 1999

 

Up early after a late night on the town with Chris Kling and Andrew Williams. Rode my bike to the lake for the air show. Started with two B1 Bombers coming from over the city. Beautiful, fast, big, sleek machines. I was disappointed that they didn�t get going fast enough to move the wings back. Other highlights were the F-15�s, 2 Army Black Hawk�s, F-16�s, SEAL skydiving acrobatics, Coast Guard helicopter rescue, and the Air Force Thunderbirds. Tomorrow Breck & I are meeting some people in the northern suburbs for a motorcycle ride, after which I head to Minnesota.

 

Sunday August 22, 1999

 

Followed Breck and his neighbor Grant Linsky grints@aol.com up to the northern suburbs where Grant�s friend Steve Erf serf@mwe.com lives. Left the truck and Hunter at Steve�s under the doting care of his kids.

We took Breck's K1200rs and F650, and Steve's R1100gs and classic R90rs for a ride to Highland House (corner of routes 22 & 41 in Highland Park, IL), where between 500 and 1000 motorcycles congregate on Sunday mornings. An amazing array of bikes, from pristine classics to nitrous burning monsters. After a coffee and sandwich we went north to the Wisconsin border before heading back.

I headed out for Minnesota around 1 PM. Arrived Beth and Ranny Miner�s about 7:30. GPS really helps, although I still don�t have it communicating with the laptop. Very nice dinner with Cousin Tim and Ellen, his expectant bride. I forgot to ask her how far along she is, 6 months? Tim has made the trip to Calgary a few times and suggests a little different route.

 

Monday & Tuesday August 23 & 4, 1999

 

Instead of heading north to Canada at Bismarck, Tim�s route takes me all the way to Glendive Montana. See it on a map� there he takes me on 200s to 13, to 2, then to 15 which turns into 4 in Alberta.

The terrain is rolling until just before Glendive, where the hills become abrupt and interesting. After Glendive you come to a park named after Teddy Roosevelt. This is really desolate feeling land. These rugged hills eventually give way to vast rolling plains. I like Tim�s route.

Most of the roads are fairly smooth, which allows me to run along at 75-85 MPH. I drive to Wolf Point Monday and stop at a campsite around 9. Around 2 AM I get up and drive a few more hours. I stop some place near Malta and stop at a place I think is called Buffalo Hot Springs campground.

Around 9:30 I shower, have a sandwich, and hit the road once more. Route 2 has intermittent construction, which slows me down some, and route 15 is rough. I stay under 70 when it gets rough rather than beat up the truck. My mileage has been an unspectacular 17, which is the only complaint it has made so far about my speed.

Get into Calgary around 5:30 and stop at a bar that has a R1100gs parked in front. I order a beer, then run outside just in time to catch Markus & Anita Rytz from Switzerland as they�re leaving. They have just driven the GS down from Anchorage. Sounds like they are pretty heavy-duty tourers. When I get home I�m to check out their site. They are returning to Switzerland tomorrow, leaving their bike here for the winter and next year taking it to Mexico. I suggested they join BMWMOA thinking the ANONYMOUS directory might come in handy.

Returning to the bar I get into conversation with the bartender and some of the waitresses. They tell me there are great bike trails in and around Calgary. One suggests I go to Canadian Tire (like a Wal-Mart) and pick up a 1998-99 Calgary Pathway and Bikeway Map. That done I navigate to the Calgary KOA and book a site for the evening ($24 Cndn). Near me in the campground are some Europeans driving turbo-diesel pickup/camper rigs similar to mine. I guess you can rent just about any type of camper in western Canada.

Right now I�m sitting at my picnic table, site 401, looking ENE over Calgary. The Sun is setting behind me, moon is shining in front, and lights of the city are coming on to my left. The mosquitoes are starting to get at me and I beginning to have difficulty seeing the keyboard � so that�s all for now.

 

Tuesday August 25, 1999

 

I decided to sleep in the truck bed. Thank God for the sleeping bag�s Dad bought � got the DeWalt out and unscrewed the storage area where I had it packed. (Nice to sleep stretched out for a change.) I awoke around 8, showered, and after getting my bearings decided that the KOA was too far out of town to head back for a bike tour. This turned out to be a good decision as Canmore (Tim�s mountain bike destination) is a great place! It�s a nice little town about 25 minutes before Banff. Hunter and I drive up to the alpine center � not dog friendly, so we drove back down to town and parked near the river. There are great trails all along the river. Ran into some fellows from Holland NOT having any luck fly-fishing. Said they had done well yesterday down near Calgary.

After giving Hunter a respectable exercise we went into town. Parking with my rear wheel on the curb, an EMT told me in good humor; �a few inches forward and you�d have been off.� A whole crew of them was coming out of a sandwich shop and I was again falling into conversation with friendly folks.

They are on some type of training excursion, and I eventually asked if there was some place I could get a smoothie. My parking assistant didn�t know what a smoothie was, and said he was from out of town. The pretty brunette was a local, but didn�t have any idea either. A half block further I spied a health food/supplement store. The brunnette should be ashamed.

I fall into conversation with the woman in the health food store also. She gives me the lowdown on Canmore and Banff. I�m meeting all kinds of pleasant, interesting people. Her one pearl that I found particularly humorous was �don�t drink the water or you end up being a parent, something about the water in Canmore � all the young women here end up pregnant.� Her daughter starts kindergarten next week.

Leaving Canmore I feel a sense of disappointment. It would be a nice place to loiter. The drive to Banff is spectacular. I exit and, instead of heading to Banff I turn right. Suffice to say the Minnewanka Loop is well worth it.

Banff is a huge tourist trap. After giving it the once over I eventually find a place to park and walk down �the strip.� I see a �BAR/PUB� sign, cross the street, and enter Tommy�s. After hitting the head I order a Guinness and strike up a conversation with the bartender (they�re my best resources!). One of the waiters, overhearing my question about places to stay, mentions the YWCA. $20 bucks for a bunk, and a place to park the truck! It�s cheaper than the Tunnel Mountain campground (which is about 3 clicks away) and its right in town!

I cross the bridge and wander in. Nice place! Incredible facilities! There is a library with a gas fireplace for quiet contemplation. They have internet terminals for surfing the web @ $6 per hour, a job resource terminal for finding employment, and a nice bistro with a deck looking out at the endless flow of people going between town and the Banff Springs Hotel. This is where I sit, having my forth Kokanee, as I type this somewhat windy recollection of the past two days.

While working I talk to the nice fellow running the Bistro. He went to Cornell. He�s lived in Mexico, Colorado, Toronto, Calgary, etc. Didn�t like living in Calgary but has kids there so wanted to stay in the vicinity. He helps low on cash travelers by giving them a room in exchange for 4 hours of servitude. Seems like a really cool job. Also, seems like everybody I meet on this trip is more interested in following their bliss than chasing the buck. I love hearing about their travels!

Tonight I am going to rock the town � tomorrow I�ll eat lots of aspirin and sleep in!

 

Thursday August 26, 1999

 

After sleeping in an uncomfortable bunk, in a room with 24 other travelers (the nearest of whom hadn�t washed his feet in months) I left Banff early and drove towards Lake Louise. Exiting the highway I learn the Lake is another 5 km up the mountain from the town. I decide to take the detour. Boy was it well worth it! Feels like a different planet! I took some video, when I get home I�ll download stills and send them.

Crossing the continental divide is somewhat anti-climatical. This side of the mountains is little different. The few things that stick out in my memory are the clear cuts, and the water. The clear-cuts are big ugly bald spots that remind me oddly of the aftermath of head surgery. The water is similar to the muddy color of our streams back east, whereas the water between Lake Louise and Calgary was a Very light, almost iridescent blue.

I roll into Vernon around 3. The camper is not yet here! Turns out they shipped the shell down to Oregon to be assembled! Surprise # 2� I have to go to Blaine, Washington to import the camper to the US. This means altering my travel plans somewhat. The service department wires the truck and installs the tie down bar for the camper. Brad, my salesman, generously offers to put me up in a motel.

 

Friday August 27, 1999

 

Roll into the dealership around 10. The camper is at the factory in Armstrong where they are installing the air conditioner. Around 11 the camper arrives! I think it looks great! As I write this they are making the changes necessary to make the camper US legal (additional marker lights, etc.) Also, Bigfoot didn�t install the �fantastic fan,� so that has to be done.

Then I need to load up the big pile of stuff from the back of the truck (bikes, clothing, sheets, comforters, pillows, sleeping bags, kitchen utensils, dog cage) and get out of here! The rack I brought isn�t going to work, so the bicycles may have to go inside.

I�m rushing to finish so I can e-mail this first installment off to everyone before heading south. They�re I�m having trouble getting JUNO.COM�s dial up software to use my calling card � and I�m not sure when I�ll get long distance access again. The importer doesn�t usually work on Saturday and my appointment is at 10 am tomorrow. Blaine is some 300 miles away, so I have to log some miles tonight. Odo 16k, 2500 mile trip so far.

 

END PART 1

BEGIN PART 2

 

 

Saturday August 28, 1999

 

Spent the night in a rest area in the mountains on highway 5 between Merritt and Hope. Getting both bikes inside is tough enough, climbing over them to get to bed is a real drag! Tomorrow I will have to figure out a better arrangement!

I make the border around 8 am and work my way through the red tape of importing the camper. I also strap one of the bikes to the ladder using toe straps and ratcheting tie downs. Not easy to hold a bike 6 feet in the air while making the straps fast at the same time, but having one bike on back makes the camper much more user friendly.

From Blaine I drive toward Bellingham, stopping at Wal-Mart and buy dog food and socks. My next stop is Home Depot where I buy some hooks. After some struggle I decide that hooks are too much trouble, so next I get a 2-foot piece of copper pipe that I clamp to the ladder with a Fern-co fitting. Much better! Now hanging the bikes and strapping them down are 2 separate steps instead of one. I hang both bikes. Now I can move around the camper, what a DIFFERENCE! I spend the next few hours unpacking and organizing.

Next on my agenda, since I�m in the states, is fuel. I�m seeing $1.40 per gallon, so I feel like I�ve hit the lottery when I find a station advertising $1.29. Far cry from $1.04 of Indiana, but much better than $.55 per liter on the continental divide (+/- $1.70 US per gallon).

By mid-afternoon I�m ready to head back to Canada. There is a big line at the border. I must have caught a shift-change, the fast lane becomes the slow lane, and the guy pulls every other car over, including me. BOOM! The cherry 60�s Mustang next to me, protesting the long wait, blows a hose, and sprays coolant all over. Later I find out that this is where all the guards with tight sphincters are sent. I�ve averaged 3 trips to Canada per year and never seen anything like it. An hour and a half later I�m on my way to Vancouver.

In Vancouver I park on 99 near 16th street, crack a beer, and fire up AAA map-n-go to get my bearings. Outside I notice someone admiring my Gary Fischer Mountain bike. We strike up a conversation. Turns out he is a Podiatrist, and he grew up in NYC. Talking to a fellow New Yorker seems to make him a little homesick. At some point in the conversation he offers to give me a brief tour of downtown. First he has to drop his wife, who is grocery shopping around the corner, off at home.

Vancouver is a really beautiful city. Lots of tourists and young people. My new friend (Gary) shows me where the action is, and we find great place for me to park on Anderson Street. He gives me his card and offers to show me a good place to mountain bike on Sunday.

The truck JUST fits under the overhang at the parking garage. The attendant, who leaves at midnight, is uncomfortable about the bicycles. I cover them with a tarp and he seems relieved. Beautiful cities are a Mecca for drug users and homeless as well as tourists and apparently crime is a problem.

There are a number of nightclubs, all with huge lines. I have sushi and walk around some, enjoying the �sights.� It�s a Saturday in a cosmopolitan city, and the �girls� are dressed to kill (I know it�s not PC, but the ones that attract my attention look about 20). Around 12 I walk Hunter then call it a night.

 

 

Sunday August 29, 1999, Vancouver.

 

Somehow it seems odd to be showering in a parking garage in the center of the city. It is raining, so mountain biking is out. I walk the dog. I have breakfast at �the legendary White Spot� restaurant. I call Gary the Podiatrist and he offers to show me some good hiking. On the way there we go through an area he refers to as ��more bohemian.� It looks like a good place to spend my second night in Vancouver.

We hike Spanish Banks Park on the UBC (University British Columbia) peninsula. It�s a beautiful area to hike with great views of the city and much needed exercise for the dog. After our hike Gary shows me the UBC endowment lands around the peninsula. Amazing to have this much parkland in the middle of a city. Vancouver is a wonderful place. (end of geocities posted journal)

Move out of the city center and get rock star parking on Pt. Grey Rd. overlooking a park, public pool, the bay, and the city. I enjoy the nightlife in this area more than in city center.

 

 

Monday August 30, 1999

 

Dad flies in today. I head south past the airport and find a BP Station with dump facilities. Black water nearly empty, but I had to cut my shower short, as the gray water tank is full. So full I had to bail water from the shower stall into the toilet. Housekeeping done I head back to the airport.

After collecting Dad and his gear we head to the park. We walk the dog, organize the camper, and discuss our options. I suggest driving to N. Vancouver and checking out the ferry. We do this and decide to take the ferry ($59) to Nanaimo, Vancouver Island. We arrive after dark, have dinner, and find a campsite north of Parksville.

 

 

Tuesday August 31, 1999, Vancouver Island.

 

Driving north we decide to detour to Mt. Washington. Driving up the mountain the temperature drops from 60 to 45, that�s just sea level to the parking lot. At the ski area parking lot we have the option of paying $18 for a ride to the top or hiking for free. We decide to hike � so we can include the dog. We head out on a service road and shortly end up climbing a double diamond. They had so much snow last winter that there is still some covering the ground here and there. After the hike we continue following 19 North to Port Hardy where we hope to catch the ferry to Prince Rupert.

After giving the town a quick tour we camp in a rest area down the road from the ferry terminal. The lady at the terminal said she�s not supposed to say we could camp there, but a bunch of others were. Odo 16,600.

 

Wednesday September 1, 1999, Port Hardy.

 

Up at 5:30. It is between 40 � 45 degrees outside. I run the furnace for a few minutes to take the chill off. Guy in a VW bus next to us is letting air out of his tires in hopes of staying under the �over height� limit. He says it�ll save him 35 bucks. Melon for breakfast then head over to the ferry queue.

It is a 15-hour journey ($669) from Port Hardy to Prince Rupert on the Queen of the North. We drive the truck in through the upturned bow and park at the stern. The dog will have to stay below. It�s dead calm as we start out. Leaving Port we head into a fog bank and they sound the horn every 30 seconds. A few minutes later the fog breaks and we are rewarded with beautiful views of islands and the mainland. The scenery is reminiscent of the Thousand Islands, except for the mountains in the distance, and there are no houses. A few minutes later we�re back in fog. They post a lookout on the bow � not a job I�d want in cold weather. GPS tells me we�re clipping along at 25 mph.

Clear again but we�ve slowed to 21 mph. She consumes 1200 liters per hour at this speed, 2200 at 25. We are in an area of Open Ocean. It is still quite calm � 6 inch waves. Swell seems about 8 � 10 feet with lengths of 25 � 35. We�ve just passed Egg Island Light � est. 1898. Exposed to the open ocean, this island takes a beating in storms. Shortly after the lighthouse keeper and his wife had left the island in 1948, a tidal wave removed the lighthouse. The current light sits atop a steel mast anchored to the high point of the island.

There are a lot of sticks, logs, and other flotsam in the water. This is a real hazard to navigation. Fellow in the marina yesterday told of a 45 foot Bertram that was knocked out of service for 2 months by a log.

It�s 11:30 and we�re passing Namu, a small cannery village turned private resort/fishing camp. Namu is where the first killer whale was captured.

Have an interesting conversation with a well-traveled builder from Park City. His journey�s are generally via bicycle and include locales such as Mexico, New Zealand and Patagonia.

Periodically they allow people below to their vehicles. There isn�t really any designated area to take the dog, so she�ll be close to bursting before we can get her to pee on the garage floor. Hope she doesn�t pee in the camper!

 

Thursday September 2, 1999, Prince Rupert.

 

Arrived Prince Rupert about 10:40pm. Finding a small patch of grass the dog pees for-ever. Drove up into town and found a parking lot overlooking the water. Slept until 9. Another beautiful, partially sunny, day!

Went to �Park Ave� campground near ferry terminal for a shower and to empty holding tanks. Took the Yellowhead just out of town and stopped near some hiking trails. We hiked the Butze Rapids Viewpoint trail. This trail takes you through lush rainforest down to some rapids, which actually become rapids in the other direction when the tide changes! Something that will never cease to amaze throughout BC and Alaska is the amount of effort put into the trail systems. When a root might trip, it�s shaved flat. When it�s soggy, there are catwalks. Benches are periodically emplaced for the winded hiker. On our hike out we traversed raised catwalk through a � mile bog.

After our hike we drove a terrible road to the �North Pacific Cannery Museum.� A local �First Nations� tribesman told us some of the fascinating history of the fishing and logging industries. In order to set up a cannery one first had to start a logging operation. A lot of land had to be cleared, and a lot of wood had to be provided for the buildings, the pilings, etc. He also took us through the evolution of the canning process from hand made, with hand soldered lead seals to completely automated crimping machines that bend the edges.

That night we had dinner at Smiles and a few drinks at The Breakers next door in Cow Bay. We parked across the street and had coffee at �Cowpaccino�s� in the morning.

 

 

Friday September 3, 1999, Prince Rupert.

 

Stopped at the RV Park and showered again, washed the truck, fixed bike flat, had lunch at breakers. We stop to look at the Saka Maru; a 24-foot fishing boat that was found off Prince Rupert a year and a half after leaving Owase, Japan. Spooky coincidence � Owase is Prince Rupert�s sister city. We drive down to the ferry around 3:30. Take the Kennicott to Ketchikan. I catch a brief glimpse of an Orca surfacing. Arriving around 1:45am we have trouble getting off the ferry because a Toyota behind us is sans-driver. While backing and hauling, I wonder how he�ll feel waking up a few hundred miles past his destination. We park at a turnout overlooking Ward Cove. This was the first totally rainy day, and I was happy to hear that the trip from Prince Rupert to Ketchikan is the least scenic of our journey.

 

 

Saturday September 4, 1999, Ketchikan.

 

Light drizzle continues. Drove up to Ward Lake where Hunter got into some dead fish. I drag her into the water to wash her � boy is this water COLD! I fire up the water heater and make use of the outside shower to finish her bath. Dad broke out the fishing gear while Hunter and I hiked the path around the lake. Another amazing pathway cut through the forest. About � mile in we come to the lakes outlet. There are hundreds of salmon jockeying for position and spawning. It really is exciting to see in person. Another � mile around the lake we come to a point with 4 or 5 fishermen. They�re mostly snagging �Lumpy�s,� which are soft fleshed and not good to eat, but are territorial and swat at the flies and spinners.

Later we drove into Ketchikan to do the tourist thing. We walk up Creek Street, videotaping salmon running under Dolly�s historic whorehouse.

The Ketchikan Visitors center was a worthwhile stop. Besides it�s award-winning architecture, it provides a nicely rounded perspective of the history, wildlife, and economy of Alaska. We spend the night west of Ketchikan in a parking lot overlooking the water.

 

Sunday September 5, 1999, Wrangell � Petersburg.

 

We board the Columbia early for a long day on the Ferry. The weather has turned from cool to cold, still rainy. Visibility is limited, so we can only imagine the tremendous views being missed. It is exciting to be on the largest boat to ply the Wrangell Narrows. Reminds us of running the rift at the Thousand Islands. All the large cruise ships go around � adding 11 hours to the trip.

We take our sleeping bags up to the solarium and catch a few hours of sleep. Later we have an interesting conversation with a nurse from Lodi, California that recently decided to move to a small island off of Seattle to get away from the heat, the crowds, (and possibly a bad relationship).

There is a brief stop in Wrangell. We get off and walk the dog. On our short tour we run across Brenda Schwartz� art gallery. I had admired her work on the Kennicott, and not wanting to pass up this coincidence, purchase a small piece. She paints waterway scenes in watercolors on charts. I find the blending of the 2 types of art captivating.

We arrive in Petersburg about 8, and stop at �Kito�s Kave� for a burrito -n- beer. Then take a drive to the end of the pavement and beyond, then turn back and stop at Sandy Beach Park. The local constable rousted us at about midnight � I missed the sign warning against overnight visits. He suggests �Tent City� about � mile up the road.

Tent City is a bunch of platforms built on a bog with tarps lashed to rudimentary A-frames interconnected by boardwalks. Petersburg, primarily a fishing/canning town, has a huge influx of itinerant laborers every spring. Tired of having these laborers flopping wherever they pleased, the town created this flop-zone at the edge of town. It comes complete with 25-cent showers, which I take advantage of.

 

Labor Day, Monday September 6, 1999.

From Tent City we drive to the other end of the island. We visit the Crystal Lake fish hatchery where they release over 1.3 million Chinook, Coho, and Steelhead smolt every year. On the drive back we stop at Blind River Rapids, traversing another � mile boardwalk to the river. We also take a look at the Falls Creek Fish Ladder. We do laundry and talk with a woman who gets to town by boat. Her family owned a Laundromat in Anchorage during the oil heyday. Later I got & sent E-mail (for 7 bucks, OUCH!) at a local E-Caf� called �Chips.� Spend some time updating journal. Park at ferry terminal and await Taku, which departs 2:45am.

Tuesday September 7, 1999, Douglas.

 

It�s too cold for me in the solarium, so we spread out in one of the lounges. Dad discovers a leaky pipe and informs the purser. I awaken early and enjoy a long shower and a big breakfast. Later I decide the front lounge is the best place to enjoy the cruise. We pass a glacier that nearly touches the water, and then shortly before Juneau we see spouts. Patience is rewarded by pods of humpbacks. We come so close to one group the captain actually turns to avoid them.

We enjoy an informative presentation by a Tlinkit named Sam, get some good info about Douglas and the Treadwell Mine (and hear some interesting bear stories) from a fellow that sells Kirby vacuum cleaners.

Arriving in Juneau we drive directly to Mendenhall Glacier, where we brave the drizzle for a closer look. The locals have learned to completely ignore the weather, being damp is simply a fact of life.

From Mendenhall we head to Douglas, stopping at the Douglas Inn for a beer and info. A marine vet suggests hiking around the Treadwell ruins, confirming the advice of our Kirby friend. After some trial and error we find the entrance to the trails and head off. Another great (albeit our wettest) hike!

After hiking to the �glory hole� we start to hike back. A kid passes us on a mountain bike and I suggest we follow the path he takes. There are all types of ruins scattered about.

Eventually we run into a fellow named Rick and his setter. They give us an incredible tour of the area. Some 2000 people lived and worked this area that has reforested itself in the past 70 years. If you look closely you find rails everywhere, and great water pipes. Instead of the gray earth that is predominant in this part of the country, the soil is a surprising bright rusty color. In fact, so much earth was moved, mined, and pulverized that there is a light sandy beach that runs for over a mile, created by the tailings from this incredible mine that by 1920 had produced 3 time the cost of the state in gold. This area, reclaimed by forest, is an amazing story of an early engineering marvel of the same scale as the Brooklyn Bridge.

Rick�s tour gets dad so turned on that he looks for and finds a book about the Treadwell that confirms what a tremendous historian and tour guide our friend Rick the �Lobbyist for sensible government� is. That evening we dine at �Mike�s� and sleep in the lot.

 

Wednesday September 8, 1999, Juneau.

 

Still raining, but by now you probably assume it by default. We have breakfast at �The Fiddlehead Restaurant� and have an interesting conversation with the waitress about her time in Juneau. She was a fisherman when she first got here from California in the 80�s. She and her boyfriend have a camp on Chugach Island, which is very remote and difficult to reach. But it gets 100 inches less rain than Juneau so it�s reasonably sunny.

After showering in a Laundromat, filling with diesel and propane (only took 2 gallons), emptying the holding tanks, and giving the rig a bath, we do the tourist thing in Juneau. Met another interesting woman at the gas station � from Vermont � runs the local animal shelter � told us not to bother with Haines. Odo 17,085, trip 3,700.

We stop at the ferry office to book passage Friday. I want to make the Lynne Canal during the day and that�s the next daytime passing. To our surprise we find the ferry is full Friday, some kind of race in Skagway this weekend? Luckily, there is an unscheduled departure tomorrow morning so we don�t have to take the trip in the dark.

Have late lunch at the Twisted Fish. Cool painted fish on the wall. Heather, our waitress, is just back from Breckenridge and a bad breakup. (Are women escaping to Alaska, or retreating here? I guess both.) She tells us about the great snowboarding on Douglas. Later I learn that the woman who painted the fish in the restaurant was helicopter snowboarding with her boyfriend last winter and was killed by an avalanche.

 

BEGIN PART 3

9-9-99. Skagway.

 

We board the ferry Matanuska by 7am. It is overcast and rainy much of the trip so we don't have any long vista's, although there is the random whale. Brief stop at Haines ferry stop, then on to Skagway.

Skagway, one of 2 US towns that is a national park, turns out to be my favorite stop so far. We drive past the Heliport as 3 or 4 Helicopters take off for the ice fields. At the beginning of town we turn off on 1st street and park. We briefly toured on foot, admiring the steam snow thrower (which they recently brought out of retirement) and getting a feel for the town.

Later, Dad went to find out about his flight from Prince George, which has been rescheduled, and about getting to Prince George as our route doesn�t go that way. I went for a slightly more thorough tour of the fringes of Skagway by bike. We agreed to meet later at Bonanza Bar & Grille.

My first stop was Services Unlimited, a Laundromat/gas station, and got the lowdown on showers and a good joint for breakfast. I ride south and check out the shower suggestion � coin operated but nice, by the public dock. At the local bike shop I buy a water bottle, the guy suggests AB Mountain across the river as a good place to ride. Next I went to meet Dad who was having a conversation with a fisherman about how treacherous fishing for Alaskan King Crabs off of Anchorage can be. After a pitcher or so we head back to the camper. He takes a nap and I take the dog to AB Mountain.

There is a suspended pedestrian bridge that takes you across the river to trails leading around the mountain. Once across, an easy trail heads towards Taiya (tie-yea) Inlet. Eventually the trail gets too tough to bike, so I carry the last few hundred yards to the point and am rewarded by an incredible view of the Lynn Canal, rugged mountains, and wonderful colors from sunlight reflecting off of fluffy clouds and snowy peaks. I�m sharing the beauty with a girl and a dog. She points to my right as says, �harbor seal.� I just catch of glimpse before it ducks under. Next she points behind me and says, �eagle.� We sit a while drinking in the wild beauty.

Eventually I introduce myself and find out her name is Raymie, she�s been a �local� for 3 summers, and she�s giving a sedentary friends� dog some much needed exercise. We lapse between conversation and breathless silence at the beauty of the sun and clouds as their interaction creates different colors off of the mountains and snow. Boy it�s good to finally see the sun again!

Eventually we start walking back. Turns out she�s stashed a bike at the point that the trail becomes impassable. As we ride back I find out that she was originally from Wyoming but that her mother moved her to Idaho. After working at the potato plant (not kidding!) for 7 or 8 months her father called. He felt she should do some traveling before getting tied down to a job, and suggested that she quit and check out Alaska.

We come to a trail leading up, and not ready to head back yet, I ask where it leads. Turns out to be the long way back to town, but she�s game, and we start climbing. The burn feels good; I need to exercise more. Along the way she points out and names various varieties of mushrooms. She also finds different edible wild berries. This floors me. I�m impressed when Dad rattles off the names of different TREES.

The trail leads up to a dirt road, the dirt road to a paved road, and suddenly we are going down. We come to a pull out with a big deck with a great view out over Skagway and the Taiya Inlet. I�m shocked by how high up the mountain we are. I make a mental note to bring Dad here. By now her dog is really tired so we ride slowly the rest of the to town.

After dropping the dogs at their various homes we get a pitcher at The Red Onion and enjoy Erin McNally�s deep, resonant voice as she sings �White Rabbit.� Exhaustion from the long day and my share of 3 pitchers set in quickly, good thing my place was just down the street!

 

 

Friday September 10, 1999, Skagway.

 

Another partly sunny, but cool day. Up early, we have breakfast at the Corner Caf�. Later took a spectacular drive around the point to Dyea, a ghost town that was landing point of the gold-rushers who took the Chilkoot Trail. We hike the trail for about an hour, getting a clear picture of how brutal it must have been to lug 2000 pounds worth of gear the full 40 odd miles. Many gold rushers hiked 1000+ miles over this arduous trail to complete the task. Today people still hike the trail. It takes three to five days.

Back in town we parked on 4th street (more protected from wind than 1st street), wandered through the museum, and took a walking tour of town. We hear the �real� story of Soapy Smith, find out that the town is rising 2 inches a year (glacial rebound � high tide no longer licks the boardwalk), and learn that many of the towns� buildings were moved to create a �main street� by the mayor back in the 30�s. His foresight helped save the town by making it such an attractive tourist destination.

Watched the start of the Skagway to Whitehorse relay race. Teams from Alaska, British Columbia and Yukon Territories start every half-hour from 6 PM to midnight, running through the night, eventually reaching Whitehorse.

 

 

Saturday September 11, 1999, Skagway to Whitehorse.

 

The day starts out cold and somewhat overcast. We drive to the RV Park at the edge of town for showers and e-mail. Hot cereal for breakfast. Juno�s new software isn�t working properly for calling card calls either. After struggling for about an hour the nice lady in the office lets me use her line to connect. FINALLY head for Whitehorse.

Our spectacular drive is somewhat diminished by the low-hanging clouds. The terrain at the summit has a lonesome feeling and is desolately beautiful. Even without views of the glaciers this drive is one of the few I would like to repeat. See a Mercedes Unimog with a camper box parked in a yard.

Run into Raymie and lunch with she and her friend at Sam -n- Andy�s Tex-Mex Restaurant. They are hoping to go to Thailand this winter. Later, we say farewell to the girls who head to the airport to check on flights to Washington. Dad and I park in a daytime only lot.

I take the dog and bike around town. We come back along the river and run into the girls once again. The airport was closed. We have a few beers at a local saloon. They are excitedly discussing their trip.

 

Sunday September 12, 1999, Whitehorse.

 

Shower and laundry at �Trail of 98 RV Park.� Heading out of town we tour the �Klondike� riverboat � a worthwhile stop. Pass another Unimog with a camper body headed north, 2 huge spares mounted to the back. Strange, seeing two of these amazing rigs in as many days.

Our first stop is on the bank of Teslin Lake, where Dad cooks some Dinty-Moores. I had hoped to enjoy a salmon bake at Mukluk Annie�s, but it was closed. For them the season has ended. Odo 17,400.

We drove on, through Watson Lake and past the �signpost forest.� The signpost forest is a HUGE tourist attraction, but we didn�t feel like breaking stride to check it out. At about 9pm Dad saw a sign for Lower Post, and suggested checking it out. We turn off and drive through a little town. Driving along the Bease River we run across a rugged boat launch. We back along the river to a beautiful spot.

A local is pulling his boat up on the beach. He has 2 gregarious children and a mixed black puppy that Hunter plays with. Dad has an interesting conversation:

 

�Is it ok to park here?�

�Uh� nope.�

�Oh. Any suggestions where we can park for the night?�

�You hunters?�

�No, just tourists.�

�You�re not hunters then?�

�No.�

�Uh, then you can stay.�

At this point I start in on him, and he opens up some:

�Great! Thanks. This is a beautiful place�

�Sure. We get a lot of people want to hunt here. This is First Nation land. Only we can hunt here. As long as you aren�t planning on hunting I guess it�d be ok for you to stay.�

�Fishing a no-no too? Sure would be nice to fish a little tomorrow morning.�

�Nah, you can fish if you want, just can�t hunt.�

 

Think they might have a problem with poachers? Avoiding campgrounds definitely adds color to the trip.

Monday September 13, 1999, Lower Post.

 

After a very cold night it is quite misty over the river. Dad gets up and does some fishing. He comes in and asks if we are going to hit the road soon. I said to him �jeez, I was kind of hoping you were going to catch a fish,� thinking it would buy me some more sack time.

Dad says, �Well, OK.� And promptly hooks a 17� western brook trout. I clean the trout and we head off. At Liard River Hot Springs we bath in the wonderful sulfur pools and cook the trout. This is a �don�t miss� stop. If you come, look for the fishnet I left drying on a picnic table. Dad wants it back.

Next we stop at Summit Pass � the highest point on the Alaskan Highway. Driving up we passed a couple of bicyclists pulled over looking at something� at the last minute I see what � a family of wild sheep. We park next to Summit Lake and have a bowl of soup at the restaurant/gas station.

After dinner we bump into the bikers � 2 Swiss women who�ve just biked from Anchorage. They had flown there in the spring from someplace in Asia. They had been biking for a year and a half! I was amazed and wish I could tell you more, but they had just finished cooking dinner and they wouldn�t eat in front of me. The combination of the language barrier and their dinner cooling quickly made my discomfort stronger than my curiosity.

It is a crisp, clear, beautiful night with shimmering northern lights, more beautiful than any fireworks. As I�m outside trying to video-tape the northern lights I hear rustling in the bushes, then see them shake. Thinking I startled a bear I get the flashlight, and keep to the other side of the truck. If I hadn�t been so scared it would have occurred to me to turn the camera onto night-shot mode. I could have seen and taped the caribou I frightened from their sleeping spot. By the time this occurs to me they are swimming out of range across the lake.

 

Tuesday September 14, 1999, Summit Pass.

 

Another cold night rewarded by a beautiful, sunny morning. Have more oatmeal for breakfast. Then we hike Summit Mountain. Incredible vistas, if I ever get here again I�d like to bike to the microwave tower on the other mountain.

Leave Summit Pass around one. At Fort Nelson we start hitting ranchland and ugly �oil patch� (anti-climax!). The map shows our first crossroad since Watson Lake, YT will be at Fort St. John. We tour the town and stop at the cowboy bar. Have a few conversations with locals and learn about jet boats and oil-rigs. Drive back to the highway and spend the night in a truck stop.

 

 

Wednesday September 15, 1999, Fort St. John - Dawson Creek - High Prairie.

 

Have a shower at a campground on the south side of town. Have breakfast at a nice restaurant next door. Drive to, then through Dawson Creek (Mile 0 on the Alaskan Highway). Drop Dad at Pouce Coupe Airport just outside Dawson Creek. He was really good company and we got along very well, particularly when you consider the close quarters. Glad Hunter is along or this would be a lonesome parting.

Leaving Dad at the airport I drive back to Dawson Creek and check out the town. Nice museum and art gallery. The museum has artifacts from early settlers. The art gallery has a section with pictures of the Al-Can Highway construction.

The woman in Pouce Coupe Airport suggests I take the Yellow Head instead of the Trans Canada. It�s the more northern route, which someone else had also recommended. She touted Slave Lake, where she has relatives. So this is the route I take out of Dawson Creek. I make it as far as High Prairie and have to call it quits. Have a few beers in a local joint and sleep in the lot.

 

 

END PART 3

 

BEGIN PART 4

 

Thursday September 16, 1999, High Prairie - Edmonton.

 

Up fairly early and hit the road. Spend a couple hours in Slave Lake trying to figure out what the woman in the airport was talking about. Besides emptying my tanks, it is not time well spent. If not for the great day at Summit Pass and seeing the historic Mile 0 in Dawson Creek, the extra 5-600 miles via Prince George from Liard River Hot Springs to Edmonton probably would have been worth it. That would have taken me right through Jasper. Just have to go that way next time.

Once to Edmonton I drive to the University, park, and walk the dog. Later I take in White Avenue, and buy a map at a Shell Station. All the streets are numbered, East/West are Avenues and North/South are Streets, so you can never get TOO lost (of course GPS helps too).

The map shows a campground and ski hill right in the middle of town (Rainbow Campground 888-434-3991, $15 night). This is something I have to see, so I ride back to the camper and load the bike. A kid living in the house I�ve parked in front of comes out and asks me some questions. He�s from Ottawa. We end up having a couple beers on his stoop and discussing the trip across the plains.

Comparing the map and the GPS makes finding the campground a synch. Ski slope is about the size of Ski Valley, and the campground is just past the parking lot. It�s a very nice campground.

Here I meet Fred and Lucy. Besides Chicago I haven�t slept in the same place twice yet. I stay in Edmonton 2 nights in a row, at this campground, which I have to PAY for, because of Fred and Lucy.

Fred and Lucy live 1000 kilometers north and are farmers who also have an oilrig servicing business called Fred�s Casing Tongs, (780) 956-3625. They�re in Edmonton awaiting delivery of another 3-ton truck for their business. They have a brand new (huge) fifth wheel that would be a chore for my truck. They pull it, white knuckled, with a half-ton gas powered Chevy. Fred got it to the campground from the RV dealership and decided to stay put.

Once their new truck comes in, they�re going to store the RV in Edmonton for the winter, and if they have time for a vacation next summer they�ll put the hitch on one of their bigger trucks so they can go more than 10 miles per day. I learn some of this as I cook my steaks over their campfire, some of it as I eat my dinner at their picnic table, and some of it over the next day and a half. Although Fred and Lucy are tired of waiting for their new truck, and want to get home, they sure are fun to hang out with.

 

 

Friday September 17, 1999, Edmonton.

 

What do people do when in Edmonton? �Go to the mall!� Fred and Lucy agree, and add that IMAX is worth a look. Fred suggests I shed the camper as �the mall� has some crime problems. Turns out the most immediate inconvenience with a camper at the mall would have been that most of it�s parking is restricted to six feet six inches.

Removing the camper is pretty easy. Unhook the tie-downs, slide the frame mounts out, plug in a little box, push a button and up she goes. Disconnect the power and drive slowly away. Push another button and down she goes. Wow, sure is easy to get in 6 inches off the ground! No more �paws up!� and boost from the rear for Hunter.

 

 

Saturday September 18, 1999, Edmonton - Saskatoon.

 

 

Drive to the Police Museum. Really want to get a RCMP hat for my brother Todd. Museum is closed. Driving back is a major pain as now I�m in a bad mood and a major portion of the city is cordoned off. Must be a parade today. See a car wash and give the truck a bath.

Back at the campground I re-load the camper. Getting it lined up is a chore. Must remember to plug in power before lowering into bed. After much trial and error I am finally satisfied. The whole campground gathers around to watch and offer advice of the free type (you know, mostly worth what it cost). THANK GOD I WENT FOR THE ELECTRIC JACKS!

Nights are getting pretty cold. I drain the hot water heater. I�ve only used it once so far, and I don�t want it freezing. Have one last beer with Fred and Lucy then hit the road.

Slept at a gas station/restaurant before Saskatoon. After breakfast I drove to, then through, Saskatoon, as I found nothing of particular interest to stop my momentum. The road becomes noticeably worse upon entering Manitoba.

 

 

Sunday September 19, 1999, Winnipeg.

 

It is getting dark as I make the city center. Winnipeg seems like a nice city. Have a nice light meal at a coffeehouse.

Park in Wal-Mart lot. In the morning, a woman parks her Honda way out by me, putting a lock on her steering wheel. I make some comment like �you�re sure gonna make them work to get that car,� and we fall into conversation. I learn it went to �3 last night, which breaks a 100-year record. Did I mention that it�s been getting cold at night? I have the second propane tank turned off. Wonder how long it�ll take for the first one to run out.

 

Monday September 20, 1999, Lake of the Woods.

 

Ontario finally, thank god I�m out of Manitoba. Roads were worse there than Saskatchewan, and just as boring! I don�t think I�ll ever do the plains of Canada again. Traveling 2 lane roads can be really dull. At least on 4 lane roads you can check out other drivers. Also, passing and being passed is much less hazardous.

Ontario has been spending big bucks on roads. Not 4 lanes, but I don�t have to put up with the bad sections for more than 20 minutes at a time. And the scenery is beautiful again.

At Lake of the Woods I explore Keewatin and Kenora. Kenora is kind of a nice little town. Stop at a RV park just before Ignace. Asking around it is $19 and the showers may have been shut off for the winter. Just as I�m about to leave I spy a 4wd Iveco with a green box on the back. This must be the people Fred mentioned. Swiss, been traveling in a custom built 4 wheel drive RV for over a year.

I stop, we talk, and they invite me in. Jean-Jacques (JJ) and Gordula (Goldie?) Benz from Zurich and I have some wine and a long, pleasant talk. They�ve been in Australia, New Zealand, and all around Alaska. In Alaska they went to Prudhoe Bay and did the top of the world highway. They are on their way to Newfoundland, then home.

The truck has a custom built body made from lightweight foam panels. It has 3 solar panels, and a neat diesel heating system that also keeps the engine block warm in really cold weather. When the truck is running, the engine heat keeps the camper warm. Potable water is heated with the same system. Diesel also heats the cook-top, although I�m a little baffled as to how that works.

I drive a little further through town and sleep next to a semi across from a hotel in Ignace.

 

 

Tuesday September 21, 1999, Thunder Bay

 

Drive from Ignace to Thunder Bay, stopping at Kakabeka Falls for a walk. Kakabeka Falls is considered by some to be Niagara of the North. Very pretty, but smaller than Middle Falls at Letchworth.

Thunder Bay is Canada�s northwest connection between the Great Lakes and the plains. The town looks little different from all the others oil-patch towns it�s size that I drove through. Met a nice girl at Thunder Bay Marina Park who offered to let me use her phone to e-mail. Joyce Totton, a pharmacist from Nova Scotia. Joyce goes off to work after introducing me to her boyfriend Mark. I pull the bikes down and Mark and I explore some parkland around Thunder Bay. We are rewarded with some beautiful views of Superior.

 

Wednesday September 22, 1999, Thunder Bay -

Joyce and Mark�s neighbor Fiona wakes me around 8:30. She takes me to breakfast at a historical Thunder Bay greasy spoon called The Hoito. The Hoito is in the basement of the Finnish

Hall. When conceived earlier this century, its "Mission Statement" was �to provide good meals at a decent price.� A tradition that continues today!

Roads aren�t so good again, but the scenery is still very nice which makes it easier to bear.

 

 

Thursday September 23, 1999, Sault Ste. Marie.

 

Raining in the morning. Wow, reminds me of the Inside Passage! I was planning on hiking around the locks then going to the Bush Plane Museum. Oh well, dog will have to wait until later for her exercise. Bush Plane Museum is fascinating. I spend the whole morning on it and come out to sun. Backtrack to the locks. In it�s day the Canadian locks were the largest in the world. The US locks here are bigger than the ones in Buffalo. There are ships so big (called Lakers) that they just fit. Of course they were made at shipyards on these upper lakes, since they are locked above Ontario by their size.

Pulled over by a little lake along the highway and spent some time on the computer.

 

 

 

Friday September 24, 1999

 

Notes: 30000 isls boat tour, Toronto traffic jam, Kingston late at night, back in the us again. Slept on Riverside Drive after a Guinness at The Lost Navigator.

 

Saturday September 25, 1999

 

Vain search for the Danforth's. Not really psyched about spending the day sitting in Clayton hoping they return sometime tonight. Kingston by Boat with sissy�s sister Charlotte and her beau, Dick. Nice lunch at The Courtyard at Chez Piggy.

Just as I climb into bed I hear car doors slam. Throwing my clothes on I go outside to investigate and find Sissy & Bill�s car across the street in the lot. Then the light in Bill�s office goes on. This is the first night I haven�t slept in the camper since the ferries. I love sleeping at the Bank.

 

Sunday September 26, 1999

 

Leisurely day reading and watching Sissy, Bill, and various friends play tennis. Later we go to a picnic where people are making apple cider. The folks throwing the party have 7 antique boats on the premises, and many more elsewhere. All are in pristine condition.

My favorites are a Riva (they always make my list of favorites) and a boat that spent 50 years on the bottom of the St. Lawrence. Apparently, the owners were returning from a booze run to Canada when they ran it up on a shoal. The crew sent to recover the boat botched the job. Pulling it from the shoal at night, they failed to adequately stuff the hole and the boat sank half way home. Timmy Purcell found it 7 or eight years ago while scuba diving. All the planking had to be replaced, but the bright work and engine are original.

 

Monday September 27, 1999

 

Major anti-climax. Today I head home.

 

Sept 29 odo 21,245; trip +/- 8,000 truck; 1000 ferries (?); 100 biking/hiking.

 

 

If you made it this far I�d love to hear from you.

Please send your comments to tedkidd@netzero.net

If I get enough interest I may add journals of my trips to Nova Scotia, Florida, and Cape Hatteras.