Haines Junction, Yukon to Tok, Alaska
Note: there are at least two lies in today’s diary. See if you can find them.
We’re far enough north now that there’s no night. Last night we almost forgot to go to bed. It’s actually rather problematic. We played Chrononauts. In Chrononauts, you decide who goes first by guessing what time it is. Debbie went for 9:15, I went for 8:45. It was 10:30, and we hadn’t eaten.
We got up and had bagels with “No Name” brand cream cheese from the real Canadian Superstore.
We had half a plan of doing a walk or cycle into the edge of Kluane National Park, but the weather was terrible - cold and rainy. Again, we’re told this weather is not normal. We drove along the edge of the path (there are no roads in the park. It’s quite something when you drive for three hours without ever leaving behind huge, spectacular mountains. The weather didn’t do the views any favours - many of the peaks were lost in the clouds - but they were simultaneously jaw-dropping and unphotographable nonetheless. We may pass this way on the way back (things are flexible) in which case I hope for better conditions.
Before the bulk of the drive, we had popped into the National Park Information Centre in Haines Junction, and seen a relief map of the park. The mountains we can see essentially block our view of an absolutely vast ice field. I do mean vast. There is a fifty mile hiking route from around this area, which people apparently take 5 days to do - but even that hardly impinges on the edge of the park - I don’t think it would get you to a glacier.
We had a quick lunch in Burwash Landing, at a surprisingly busy restaurant. We both had a burger.
Onward towards Alaska. The views were still great, but the roads were the worst we’ve experienced. Twice, one of our cupboard doors flew open as we traversed a bump. Apparently the problem is that building roads on permafrost is a challenge. The layer of vegetation that insulated the soil is removed, so the frost melts beneath the road, and the road sinks. Hence the road is full of irregular dips, and the car pitches and rolls all over the place. Around Kluane Lake, there was a long stretch of mud to drive on, with a pilot car to guide as past road workers. At last, the terrible roads we’d been promised!
Eventually we learned to slow down a bit, and before long we were past Canadian customs. They didn’t even want to wave us goodbye - the road out of Canada goes around the building with no barriers.
It’s 18 miles of no-man’s-land between Canadian customs and American customs. We stopped to admire the border itself - a treeless strip of land that stretches as far as the eye can see. Debbie filmed as I stood on the Canadian side of the border and urinated into the USA. Not that I have anything against the USA — I keep coming back after all — but I was intrigued as to what would happen.
The US border officials were absolutely the friendliest border officials we’ve ever dealt with. There was banter! As we filled in our visa waiver forms, I mentioned my fear that one day they’ll pull a switcheroo and pop a negative into the list of questions you usually answer “no” to — “were you not involved with the Nazi government in Germany between 1939 and 1945″ — just to keep you on your toes. He laughed and said “I dare you to answer yes to one of those”. “It’s been a long time since anyone did that,” agreed his colleague.
When he asked whether we were carrying any firearms, and we said “no”, his face dropped. “Would you like some?”.
We bought petrol at the first place after the border, to take advantage of US prices. The pump was the slowest in the world, but since American petrol nozzles lock in place rather than needing holding, it allowed me to take in my surroundings. A magnificent bird of prey (I don’t know what kind) floated past and settled on a tree by the road. I think I’m due some sort of prize for nature photography.
We overtook a parked RV, and noticed too late to stop, that he was watching a bear on the roadside. We had better luck seeing our own porcupine lumbering off the road.
Between the border and Tok, there’s a lot of roadworks going on. The Canadian government has been investing heavily in the Alaska Highway, meaning that most of the stretches our guidebook tells us are rough, have been very smooth and easy. It looks as if the US government is playing catchup, but intends to do the same. Over and over again, there were unpaved sections - but they’re clearly earmarked for improvement. We’re not sure whether to try and avoid this route on the way back (there is one alternative).
In many places large areas of forest seemed to have died. Forest fires, we assumed. Apparently not - Spruce Beetle has killed these trees. Other trees were growing in between the dead ones. It looks like the forest will recover.
We’re camping in the small town of Tok. We walked to Fast Eddie’s diner, which wasn’t as fast as the name might suggest, but I’ll let them off since they’d been inundated by a large tour group from Nebraska. Now that’s a long drive. We both had steak, and it was good. It was a proper American steak meal - salad to start, a choice of fries or baked potato, soured cream on the baked potato, steak sauce.
Between the campsite and Fast Eddie’s is the spookily derelict Northstar Restaurant. I was taken by its wooden architecture, and by the sign outside suggesting that if you parked there and didn’t send the owner $25, you’d be prosecuted under Alaska’s “Defrauding a Innkeeper” law.
Back in the camp, I blogged, we read a bit about our tourism opportunities in Alaska, then went to bed.