Friday, 30 January 2015

The Far North - Fairbanks

Big Horn sheep, from behind!
Over the years I’ve taken lots of photos of rumps; animals arses, that is. Moose, elk, coyotes all happily grazing or standing beside the road as cars and trucks whiz by, until I start to slow down for a shot, and woof, they turn tail and run...

So, we headed into the City of Fairbanks as our journey continued. At almost 65° latitude, this is the most northerly place I’ve ever driven (the Arctic Circle is 66° 33’). With a population of 32,000 it’s pretty small but the locals sure are friendly. A woman that served us in a cafĂ© gave us her home e-mail address so that we could send her some photos, and a senior approached to ask for advice: “Do you have any experience with banks?”. His bank had persuaded him to take on several credit cards he didn’t use, and were demanding fees, “But it’s good to have several cards, isn’t it?” he said. We manage just fine with one, I told him.

Cool Camel
Many stores in Fairbanks sell qiviut, wool from the under hair of the muskox, eight times warmer than wool it’s among the world’s most expensive fibres – we found a fist-sized ball on sale for $60 (£40). We didn’t bite although it would have been useful in the Ice Museum, an old theatre that had been converted to a giant refrigerator. Here were life-size ice carvings of Inuit, sled dogs, log cabins and igloos, polar bears and penguins. And, there are ample, if uncomfortable, opportunities for selfies– creatures to hug, holes to put your head through, and snowmobiles to sit on… …briefly, but, of course, it was the camel that drew my eye.

Food at the State Fair
But it was August and we weren’t dressed for frost so we headed to the State Fair. Like the summer Exhibitions in Canadian cities, the State Fair is a mixture of the local and the exotic; fairground rides (the midway), agricultural show, marketplace, live entertainment and unhealthy food. Last year’s Calgary Stampede boasted donut burgers, fried Coke and Pizza with the extra crunch of scorpions, but here the staples of Alaska are featured… …crab cakes and fried halibut – delish!

Giant vegetables a-plenty, and cakes ornamented to put your grandma to shame, but our limited truck’s living space could accommodate neither, and frankly we were missing the mountains... So we headed south towards the high spot of North America, Mt McKinley, or Denali (native for The High One) as it’s known here. The mountain sits in its park, an area larger than Massachusetts, and the whole thing was shrouded in cloud as we pulled into the RV campsite on its edge. I’d had to drive 500 yards along highway 8, the dirt road ‘Denali Highway’ specifically forbidden by our RV agreement. 

It was with pangs of guilt, no really, that I drove slowly, parked, and pulled out the steaks for supper!


Next week we visit Anchorage. Italicized text in the body denotes a link, for more info.

Friday, 23 January 2015

North Pole

Santa Claus House
Just beyond the end of the Alaska Highway we arrived at North Pole where we camped beside Santa Claus House. And to all those that believe Santa lives in Lapland or that all his mail goes to 34th Street in New York City, I’m here to tell you that North Pole, Alaska is his home. US children that write to Santa at the North Pole have their letters sent here, where teams of volunteer seniors and high school kids answer them. Then, they are returned duly stamped North Pole AK, 99705. Actually volunteers across America perform this service for the US Postal Service but this is the only place with that postmark. And you can also order a letter from Santa: topics include: Baby’s First Christmas, the Non-Believer, the Not-so-Good Child, a Difficult Christmas and, for all you Facebookers, there’s even one for your Cat.
'Shell-casing' Xmas lights
Santa’s Gone Hunting

We didn’t meet Santa but we did buy a number of Christmas items to take home, although some were a little too ‘redneck’, even for us!

North Pole sits between two large US military bases on the highway into Fairbanks. We drove past Eielson Air Force Base on the way in; it’s the first base in North America I’ve seen with ‘No Photography’ signs all along the highway fence. 

Once in the Santa store, I got chatting to an older woman as she served me…
“Your accent sounds more Alabama than Alaska,” I said.
“Yes,” she said, “...our son did 7 tours in Iraq and eventually he was blown up by a roadside bomb. He’s stationed here, so we sold up and moved here to care for him. It’s a long road back.” 
We often hear about those that are killed in service without realizing that ten times that number end up as ‘wounded warriors’… …a terrible price for the victims and their loved ones.

Caribou or Reindeer
Between the store and our campsite was a compound containing Santa’s reindeer, or as we call them in Canada, caribou. It was hard to tell which was Donner and which was Dasher, but in any case they are remarkable animals. In order to preserve body heat in the severe cold they maintain two body temperatures; 40.5°C (105°F) for their body and -6°C (20°F) for their legs, giving just enough circulation to prevent frostbite, and each strand of their hair is hollow for insulation. And, of course, all of Santa’s load bearers are female, even Rudolph; all males shed their antlers in the fall.


Santa wasn’t offering food, so we headed back and fired up the barbeque – sausages, the fall back food for campers, for supper. Despite lots of warnings about mosquitoes so large and numerous that we’d be carried off into the woods come late afternoon; we saw little sign of the pesky creatures.


Friday, 16 January 2015

North to Alaska

The North is different. The air is cleaner, the people friendlier, the scenery dramatic and, in the summer anyway, the days are longer. Just going there gives you a feeling of accomplishment.


Carol and I flew into Whitehorse, Yukon, one August. It’s a tiny airport nestled in mountains. The city has a population of 28,000, significant in a Territory of 34,000. We’d chosen Whitehorse so that we could drive a rented RV (Recreational Vehicle) West into Alaska, then return and take the train South to Skagway and sail the Inside Passage or panhandle. And, we harboured the hope of returning via Dawson City, far to the North, quest of the Klondike Gold Rush stampeders in the late 1890’s. It was a faint hope – the Top of the World Highway from Alaska to Dawson had been washed out and impassable for some weeks…

Our RV home
 We picked up our RV only to find that it was a Ford 350 pick-up with a box on the back. The security of a sealed cab was useful, but Carol had hoped for roomier living space. But once she realized how powerful it was, and what a joy it was to drive, I couldn’t pry her out of the driving seat with a crowbar!
Abandoned boat at Burwash Landing

Whitehorse sits on the Alaska Highway 2200 km (1400 miles) built by the US Army in 1942 right after the attack on Pearl Harbour. The initial highway was built by battalions of Black Americans in approximately 6 months and finally provided a land route from the ‘lower 48’ (US States) to Alaska. Nothing rusts or rots in the far North - debris, vehicles and signs can still be seen along the route from that original effort although the highway’s been rebuilt many times since.

Church beside Alaska Hi’way
There are still rough sections, as I discovered on a section between Whitehorse and the US Border. I was trying to maintain a reasonable speed but the vehicle wallowed and lurched through ruts like a boat in a storm. Standing our drinking glasses in the kitchenette closet on a non-stick mat was not good enough – they were all smashed. It felt like I’d failed a test…

But true to the brochures there were very few humans, and scenery to take your breath – crystal lakes, ice-capped mountains feeding glaciers, and all bathed in sunlight until 11pm; we passed Mount Logan, the highest mountain in Canada, to our South.

Finally we reached the US border. No line up here and this was no ordinary border – the guard leaned out through the window and after inquiring where we were from and going, etc., asked but two questions:
“Do you have any weapons?”
“Ah, no.” I said. He looked at me as if he was about to offer me a rifle or a sidearm – you’re unarmed, really?
Then he said: “Do you have more than $10,000 in currency?”
“No.”
He smiled: “Enjoy your visit,” he said.
The Yukon River flowing through Whitehorse

Next week we visit North Pole, Alaska...