Friday 16th May 2003, Glenallen to Beaver Creek

I had another long drive ahead of me so I was on the road by 9 o'clock.  It was flat country and I was surrounded by forest.  I was fascinated at first, then..."well, ok, yes, they're trees!", then bored and finally completely awed by the scale of it all.

I gradually worked my way up into the mountains, still surrounded by forest; the road occasionally rising above the tree line to view the valley I'd just left, trees carpeting the valley floor and creeping up the mountainside, gradually giving way to a little scrubland before the mountains rise steeply to the sky.  Maybe a river or mudflats worming through the valley from one end to the other.  Sometimes the road winding so much I'd lose sight of it among the trees and have the illusion that I am completely surrounded by mountains, there's no way out, and the world has shrunk to this one small valley. 

I had planned to lunch in Tok but numerous road works held me up.  I really must learn that this country doesn't care about my plans and schedules.  So I just sat back, enjoyed the ride and stopped at the first place that appealed.  It was about 40 miles short of Tok and in one of those valleys.  It was filled (not hard considering it only took about a dozen people anyway) with locals including four gents who were exactly my idea of old coots, and who took great delight in 'chatting up the young lady'.

I've been travelling steadily north and climbing into the mountains since leaving Seward.  At some stage spring had withdrawn and the trees had been again in an uneasy doze.  Moving down out of the mountains onto the plains surrounding Tok, spring came again and I feel privileged to have seen it twice this year.

After coffee in Tok I drove straight through to the US/Canada border.  I was travelling under the Visa exemption scheme for UK nationals and was supposed to hand in the form, that was clipped to my passport, when leaving.  I explained I was going back into Alaska at Skagway so they marked the form for multiple entries and I've just got to remember to hand it in the last time I exit the US.  It's valid to July and they impressed on me the importance of not taking it back to the UK with me.  Must stick a reminder note somewhere!

And so it was goodbye to Alaska, for now; it's been wonderful!

Sat 3rd May 2003, Tok to Fairbanks

After a good night’s sleep I got a good start on the day back at Fast Eddy's where I learned that I like my eggs ‘medium easy’ and that hash browns are not small triangular portions of squashed processed potatoes that give me heartburn in England.  They are grated potato, fried and heaped on your plate in a great mound.  (‘Pan fries’ are fried sliced potatoes; I’m waiting to find out what ‘grits’ are).  Bit confusing though that hash browns were fried sliced potatoes in Haines Junction but maybe she misunderstood my accent when I ordered.  I had them with the crispy streaky bacon they do so well over here and had such a wonderful breakfast overall as marked Fast Eddy’s as a ‘must’ for the way back.

 

I left early, leaving Tok on the flats behind me as I headed up into the mountains.  I’d only seen one car after about three quarters of an hour and decided to stop for one of my ‘stand and stare’ stops.  Absolute quiet apart from birdsong and the wind.  The air was crisp and clear and the only movement was the gentle swaying of the trees in the wind.  The roads were better today and the speed limit is actually up to 65mph (been mostly 55mph out of town so far).  

 

I conveniently arrived at Delta Junction around lunchtime where I made my second driving mistake.  I’m still not sure whether I shouldn’t have been going that way at all or whether I was just on the wrong side of the road.  The people coming the other way thought it was highly amusing and as we were only doing about 5 mph there was no harm done.  Threw me though; with embarrassment as much as anything so I’ll put that down to going to the wrong type place for lunch.  I went to an Italian it was a bit posh for what I wanted but by the time I realised it was a proper restaurant I was sat down and being the only one there couldn’t very well sidle quietly out.  Had a good Greek salad though, and a nice talk with the lady who served me.  She first came there from the Ukraine in 1960 and she said the roads were very different then, all dirt track, and the winters much harder.  This winter particularly was so mild ‘she thought she was in Hawaii!'

 

That afternoon I passed a lake with more people than I’d seen in one place all day.  I stopped out of nosiness and found people ice fishing, both singles and families.  Looked like it was a lot of fun and while I hoped they had something warm to sit on I rather think it might have been the plugs of ice removed from the lake to fish through.

 

And so to Fairbanks, passing through North Pole, Alaska, which as George says, is very definitely not worth a visit.

 

Fairbanks came as a shock.  I hate the traffic, finding it a little intimidating and everything looks rather shabby and seedy.  I checked my Rough Guide to Alaska and it seems to agree with me.  The hotel certainly meets their description; apparently none of the hotels are up to much but apparently I'm in one of the best.

 

Rigsby would have been right at home in the hotel; smells of damp and cleaning fluid and the TV is permanently on in the foyer entertaining the teenage 'concierge' and his mate.  Old fashioned furniture, open pipe work and plumbing that gives off an astonishing range of noises.  No curtains, just horizontal blinds to keep out the long daylight hours which could be a problem when it comes to going to sleep.  Then you notice the well-upholstered armchair, comfy bed, crisp linen and clean, if a little shabby bathroom.

 

Got some unexpected exercise tonight - took a hike to the nearest email facility.  It was rather further than I expected, as everything seems to be over here.  On the way back I stopped at some lights, looked up the road...and saw a great 20-foot wall of roiling dust heading towards me!  No escape, we just had to endure it.  Current winds are extremely strong and we are constantly being assaulted by small dust storms but this was exceptional.

 

Went to a Mexican restaurant this evening and got chatting in Spanish to the South American waitress.  Well...I tried my Spanish, and we both had a laugh.

 

I’m a bit out of charity with Fairbanks just now what with the dust and the traffic but I’m learning that first impressions can be very wrong, especially at the end of a long day when I’m so tired.  All could change tomorrow.

Fri 2nd May 2003, Burwash Landing to Tok

The bed was really comfy and felt good in the crisp clean sheets.  I slept like a babe but woke up with the slight cough that I went to bed with last night – due to the dust I suspect.  Breakfast was in a friendly atmosphere although I kept to my own table this time.  Everyone seemed to sit at their own tables and talk at a distance.  Odd, but they included me in the conversations that bounced around the room so that was fine by me.  I guess that was why Horace looked a little startled when I asked to join him - I guess it’s just not done that way here.
 
By this time I noticed that a lot of the furnishings still had plastic on them from new and the back room was being opened and prepared having been shut up for the winter.  Horace looks after the place in the winter when the owners go south and it had only just been re-opened.  I had arrived before everything had been got up together.  I collared Horace to go over a few unfamiliar controls in the car after breakfast and he cleared up a few puzzles for me like I couldn’t find how to put the handbrake on!  The car seemed firm enough after I stopped but that is apparently due to the automatic transmission.  The ‘handbrake’ is actually applied by foot and released by hand.  Who thought that one up?
 
Another place I shall call into on the way back if I can.

Before leaving they all insisted I visit the museum.  It was officially closed but the guy who was getting it ready for the summer had finished breakfast the same time as me and was on his way to start work for the day.  He let me in and I spent a very enjoyable half hour going round.  Wildlife and First Nation stuff and just the right level of information for me (too much and I start to glaze over).

Did you know? (historically) …

There are two clans in the area, the Crow and the Wolf.  Lineage is through the female line and they can’t marry inside the clan.  Crow must marry Wolf and Wolf must marry Crow.  When a girl reaches puberty she is taken to a Puberty Hut where she stays for anything from 1 to 12 months beading, making clothes and sundry other life skills.  She must wear headgear that comes way forward of her face and must not look at or be seen by a male in all that time.  Nor must she allow water to touch her teeth and must drink through a hollow tube, usually a swan’s bone.  Husbands are chosen for their skills and can be required to live with the girls’ clan/family for a year of so before their marriage, presumably to prove their skills and ensure they complement the skills of others in the family.  Each clan’s survival depended on the skills of its members and a full mix was required.

Thank goodness I’m a 21^st Century Englishwoman.

Actually – perhaps they had the right of it.  Perhaps we could apply that these days eg in immigration and even with people already In the UK.  In order for society to survive everyone has to contribute and if they don’t they can’t be part of society with its privileges otherwise society would fall apart and there wouldn’t be a society to grant privileges!  A little tortuous but I know what I mean, and a little harsh maybe but food for thought!  After all, the only ‘rights’ anyone has in this life are those that society is willing, and more importantly – is able, to let them have.

I enjoyed being the only person in the Museum, I could look at everything in peace and take it in properly.  I was more than happy to pay or at lest make a contribution but I wasn’t allowed – good advertising he said.  Certainly gets my vote.

It wasn’t long before I was on my way and enjoying the serenity and freedom of the road.  The vast beauty of the country is starting to work its way into my soul and I haven’t felt so much at peace with myself in a long, long time.

Stopped at Buckshot Betty’s in Beaver Creek for lunch.  Quiet bunch of customers but when they left I had a few laughs with Betty.  My salad was good but you should have seen what the others were eating, looked great, and so much of it.  One person had a truly enormous burger and masses of curly fries.  Sadly the coffee was lousy but you can’t have everything!

On the way up to the border I came across a herd of wild horses, which was a huge thrill for someone who was horse-mad as a kid.  I stopped and watched them for a while.

Then it was time for the border crossing into Alaska.  I managed to go wrong right away.  There was no-one else there when I arrived and frankly it wasn’t clear where to go – honest!  I pulled over to the right and after a few moments a guard came out of the building with an amused but rather exasperated expression on his face.  He rather pointedly asked if I was delivering goods? – I was in the wrong lane – ho ho!  He was very nice really once you got beyond the official gruffness.  He directed me to park and come in the building to complete some paperwork.  It was pretty painless although when it came to the point of paying the us$6 entry fee he asked if I wasn’t going to complain like my other countrymen?  As it happened I’d been warned by George but even so it wouldn’t have occurred to me to complain; it’s their country and they can do what they like.  I was a bit embarrassed to think my countrymen had been so rude.

After that it was a long gradual climb up into the mountains. At one point I stopped and stood.  I hadn’t seen anyone for an hour, the air was cold and crisp, the only sounds were the wind and occasional birdsong; the only movement was the swaying in the trees.  Glorious, so I got out and just stood a while.  I kept stopping at various places, although not necessarily ones I wanted to stop at.  As I said, you’re not allowed to stop just anywhere.  I’m not sure why, I must ask.  The US has a very different idea of ‘scenic points’ than I have.  I really feel that to have a good chance at a photo you need a clear view and those trees planted, presumably as a windbreak, are more hindrance than help!

Then came Tok.  Apart from being at a crossroads I can’t see any reason why anyone would go there for its own sake.  Its sole purpose seems to be for the convenience of people passing from one place to another.  It’s unattractive, on a boring flat plain and I couldn’t find anything of interest.  Of course, I could have been looking in the wrong places and it could be keeping its light very well hidden under a bushel.  Maybe it has hidden talents?  I did look but none sprang up and introduced themselves.  

Young’s Motel is just what I expected and was hoping I would find while I was here.  One of those places you see in American films and television programmes where people like Mulder and Scully stay to complete an assignment; or the couple on the run from The Terminator would stay in, but cleaner.  The rooms are in a block set apart from the restaurant so there’s just a short walk after you’ve eaten.  Good, basic and clean; the people polite but distant.  Wonderful and rather thrilling really!  Bet Mulder and Scully never got such good food as in Fast Eddy’s though.  I’m a little wary of portions now so I carefully ordered the small rib-eye steak (the special, and came as small, medium or large).  I received a massive steak twice the size of one I would eat at home.  Don’t get the impression I’m complaining – I’m not.  But I couldn’t finish it!

Not quite so tired tonight so watched a little telly before turning in.