North to Chicken, Alaska!

The Wrangells shine over the Matanuska River

Leaving Anchorage, we headed east along Highway 1 towards the illuminated backdrop of the Wrangell Mountains, the Matanuska glacier ran along the road beside us for a mile or so – well it was crawling more than running.

We stopped along the way for 25c coffee at Frimpels Café, miles from anywhere. It was filled with a group of youngsters cycling from Texas to support cancer research.

The highway turns north at Glenallen and we entered the Visitor Centre there to enquire if the Top of the World (Taylor) Highway from Chicken, Alaska to Dawson, Yukon had re-opened. The ranger was full of doom: “People ‘bin washed away up there this week,” he said, “ask at Tok.” So, we continued north to Tok, where Highway 1 meets the Alaska Highway.

I stopped to photograph a bald eagle in a tree. An old native guy approached: “Could you give me a ride home? It’s about 2 miles along the way you’re going.”

‘Sure,’ I said, ‘Hop in.’ It seemed the Alaskan thing to do. We dropped him at his driveway.

I expected the inevitable news about the Taylor highway as we arrived at the Tok log cabin Visitor Centre. I was feeling down; I’d always wanted to visit Dawson City but we didn’t have enough time to drive there and back from Whitehorse – the Taylor was our only chance.  “I just got a call to say the first convoy is leaving from Chicken at 8am tomorrow,” the Tok ranger said. We were elated and we headed north, once more.

Moose takes a breath

The thing that hits you as you drive this desolate road is the evidence of forest fires. Living in southern Canada, you always hear of huge fires in the north destroying many square miles, but here they are, burned out trunks as far as the eye can see, with signs citing the dates going back to the 1950’s with very little apparent growth since; this far north trees grow slowly. One of the biggest fires in recent US history occurred here in June 2004, a year when fires destroyed more than 10,000 square miles of Alaskan forest, the most in recorded history.

Just before we pulled into Chicken we spotted a moose feeding in a pool. Fortunately, I only had to wait a few minutes for him to take a breath before I could snap – moose can hold their breath for up to an hour.

Chicken strip

Chicken, population 7, is an odd place; with its dirt parking/camping lot filled with RV’s and its tiny strip mall, it feels like a mix of building site and wagon train stop. There are no phones here nor flushing toilets but the Wi-Fi is free. It was surreal to see the RV’ers all massing to join the 8am convoy in such a sparse, remote community. And we made the mistake of walking the kilometre or so to the couple of stores, without spraying for bugs first. It took a while, but soon the mosquitoes were eating us alive!

Wagons Roll!

We were up early in order to get in the convoy - we were 7^th in line but by the time we started to roll there were more than 50 vehicles. The distance to the Canadian border at Poker Creek was only 30 kilometres (20 miles) but it was a weaving, rough, dirt road at times so narrow you could see the drop-off into the valley just beside your door. Perhaps the worst thing was the dust although we didn’t realize it at the time… …and we both needed to pee. The journey took two hours and being in a convoy made it impossible to stop and nip behind a bush. Carol managed to jump out and get into the back of the truck to use the facility, when we stopped at a deep rut but unfortunately, I had to drive on before she could finish…

The view from the Canadian section of the road really earned its ‘Top of the World’ label, as it runs along a ridge atop mountains – you could see all the way to the mountains in the Arctic Circle. Finally, we descended to the Yukon River and the little ferry across to Dawson City. It was only then that we realized the inside of our living space was completely coated with dust.

View looking North from the Top of the World

Next week – Dawson and the Klondike Gold Rush.