Back in Alaska

After attending a live performance at the Yukon Art Centre last night, we arrived back at the Westmark Hotel for our last evening in Canada. Entitled ‘Up There,’ the three artists shared stories of the Far North, the Canadian Far North that is. These biographical tales were interwoven with music and song that had the audience laughing at the beginning and tearful at the end. Two of the performers were from Whitehorse and the other Yellow Knife, Yukon Territory.

Thinking about my experiences in Alaska, I understand that these short stories have roots in the air. Only after many generations could one claim his experiences of the Great White North are rooted deep in the earth.

We set the alarm for 7 am, instead of our usual 6, and finally crawled into bed well after midnight. When the alarm rang this morning, the darkness of the night lingered as we repacked our suitcases and exited the Presidential Suite. I walked to the nearby Starbucks for coffee and a chai latte while Rick checked out at the front desk. This lone coffee kiosk was the only one I remembered seeing while traveling along the Alaska Highway.

After gassing up, we made our way towards Haines Junction on the old familiar. A little town of 840 persons, Haines Junction was touted as having four restaurants, hotels, a gas station, museum, and other amenities. The snow was falling when we pulled into town. 

After the third closed sign, we found a restaurant at Al-Can Motel with a neon sign that said ‘OPEN.’ Our server was a petite Yukoner wearing a smile and stylishly layered shirts under her hoodie. The basic breakfast included hasbrowns that had been battered and fried crispy, eggs with lightly colored yolks and thickly sliced wheat bread. For another couple bucks, you could have your choice of meat: bacon, split-fried sausage, or ham.

Grateful for this open restaurant, Rick gave our young server the last of our Canadian money and a few dollars American for the tip. At the junction, we turned left and headed west towards the border. The roughest road of the trip lay between Haines Junction and the Canadian border and the snow continued to fall lightly onto the powdery build up. Breezy conditions made the snow dance in swirls as we followed a semi-truck out of town.

The road climbed steadily upward towards the tallest pass between Whitehorse and Fairbanks, only 15 miles from the little town we left behind. At more than 3,200 feet elevation, we were up and over it in no time.

Huge mountains of gargantuan proportion lay ahead at an upcoming turn in the road, mountains of which there are few equal. The St. Elias Mountain Range includes the tallest in the Yukon at 19,250 feet. Mt. Logan, and its siblings, stood tal against the blue and gray sky. Destruction Bay in the foreground, I snapped a bunch of pics between ahhs and wows. The road crossed Destruction Bay and followed the base of these snow-capped beauties.

As we neared the border several hours later, our hungry grew. Beaver Creek was the planned stop. The Milepost had promised this border town of 102 included year-round restaurants and is only 113 miles to Tok. The first restaurant was in the process of closing up for the winter, two others were also closed, but at last we stopped at a Race Track Gas station for a sandwich and a beverage to go. Our twenty-something cashier works as a manager at the Beaver Creek Westmark during the summer and for the store during other times.

Back on the road we drove for awhile until nearing the Canadian border crossing. Just before crossing, we stopped at the ‘Welcome to Alaska’ sign and interpretative kiosk for pictures. Rick’s happiness brimmed over as we celebrated our accomplishment. At once the signage along the road was instantly recognizable. Those old familiar speed limit signs in miles per hour were posted along the highway’s shoulder. No more conversion to metric. The freshly paved highway lay in front of us with less than 100 miles to our evening destination.

The crossing is similar to that of a toll booth at a bridge, not nearly as imposing as the crossing into Canada from the south. Snapping a few photos, we sped through without stopping. The U.S. border stop was 30 kilometers ahead. At this small crossing, the lights above the lanes were red. As we cautiously moved forward, the border guard waved his arms to stop. The light never did turn green but the man motioned us to move slowly forward. Before reaching the gate, a camera flashed to the left of us, imprinted in time. 

Driving into Tok, my muscles began to ease. Located at the confluence of the Alaska Highway and Highway 1, we had traveled the roughest roads to arrive at our first Alaska destination. We drove by motels, Fast Eddy’s Restaurant, and other restaurants and services. There is a good-sized school building and an Alaska Department of Resources office in this community of  more than 1,400 persons. A traveler can drive to Whitehorse, Anchorage, Fairbanks or Valdez from Tok.

Caribou Cottages Cabin #1

When we pulled into the secluded parking lot for the Caribou Cottages Bed & Breakfast, the door to the log-styled home opened and we were greeted by Kris and Carrie. After a brief conversation and payment, we drove the short distance to Cabin 1. Opening the door to the log cabin, the warm air drifted out. This small cottage came equipped with a small Jacuzzi tub, and upstairs loft, microwave, refrigerator, tv and WiFi.

After unloading all of our gear, we reviewed our travel arrangements and decided to take a more relaxed approach to the final leg of our journey. The coziness and warmth of this little cabin was intoxicating. A good meal and a relaxed evening were needed after so many days on the road. Another day of experience in the Far North was complete.