Circle The Wagons

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Circle The Wagons
We pull over to take a peek at what awaits us, from a vantage point of about 1500 feet we look down on Dawson City. It reminds you of a cartoon, the town is laid our on a square grid and each one is painted a pastel color, yellow, pink, blue, green and some reds and browns. As we look over this historical town, we notice one item of interest, there is no road from our side to the other side of the Yukon River. To get there from our side you must take a ferry across this mighty river. We descend down until the road stops and we are at the rivers edge. The vessel is a flat bottom ferry large enough to accommodate an 18 wheeler, cab and one trailer, we are just slightly shorter. We watch as the barge leaves for a trip across the river, it must go down stream in order to get enough motion to come back up and dock.

We are the only vehicle on the barge so we can enter and go in straight and not worry about making room for other cars. The trip itself only lasts about 5 minutes and soon you are in Dawson City. Founded around 1898 it was a boom town and soon grew to become the largest city north of Seattle. Today you can still experience that flavor as you stroll along real wooden board walks, the streets are hard packed dirt, no pavement, Most of the homes are from the turn of the century reflecting that ornate style. We find the cabin of Jack London, it originally was about 72 miles from Dawson City and was reconstructed, the original sent to California his birthplace and the duplicate casting erected on a hill site on the upper most portion of the city.
Mining build the town and mining still supports it. There is evidence every where you look, and active gold mines still operate. As we leave Dawson City and head out on the Klondike Highway mile after mile of huge rock piles called tailings are lined up. These are the left overs from the dredges as they moved along the creeks and river beds. Most are about 70-80 feet long, 12-15 wide and about the same in height. We are heading towards Whitehorse the capitol of the Yukon. Since Dawson City only boasts a population of about 1800 we wonder what Whitehorse will look like. Through lower valley roads and eventually up into low lying hills, we are passing pole pines and scrub trees all displaying their fall colors. Bright yellows, brilliant oranges and hardy brown all adorn the road as we travel up towards Carmacks.
Carmacks is a village along the Klondike Highway, it was established as a trading post in the gold rush days. Most of its occupants are from the Village of Carmacks and Little Salmon First Nations and here is where our story starts. Since this village boosts a population of about 450 one is to assume that some of the younger generation really have nothing much to do, ah but not at Carmacks. Here several teenagers sit up on the bridge and wait until very large campers cross over and they try to see who can hit a window with the largest rock they can throw. And you guessed it, BINGO they got ours, right behind the passenger seat. The rock was the size of a golf ball and although the glass was safety the rock had no trouble sailing right through and landing in the captains chair behind me.

Since we were crossing a bridge parking immediately was not an option, we had to travel about a mile down the road before we could pull over, and that was at a convenience store where Larry immediately called the RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police). Well our officer did not ride up on a horse, but rather a pick up truck and casually wandered over to look at the damage. Now I must add that this particular Mountie was also First Nation and did display a rather large lack of concern over our damage. He went on to say, that kids will be kids, and he did talk to them and that they were sorry, sorry my pitute..he took our information and left. And that left us with a rather large lack of confidence about the validity of the RCMP.

We then proceeded to spend an hour taping up the window. The safety portion of the glass lived up to its promise, it held together, however the glass was shattered into thousands of pieces barely handing together. We duct taped the entire window to avoid it blowing in while driving. We had approximately 150 miles yet to go before we reached Whitehorse and the weather was turning cold. Rain clouds were threatening to cut loose and we did not rain coming into the coach. By the time we reached our destination it was 8:30pm and almost dark. We settled into our campsite and had a bit to eat. Tomorrow we would unhook the car transport and drive the motor home into town to the RV glass shop and have it replaced.
We woke up to clear skies and sunshine in abundance, you could not ask for more perfect weather. After a quick breakfast we took the camper down to the RV glass repair shop, where upon entering the office door and asking for assistance in repairing our window, the woman behind the counter asked if my brother was Larry Anderson. I do think that we both had dumb expressions on our faces, how could she know who we were and what we wanted? Well remember our mountie from Carmacks, he went back and made his report to his superior officer and that officer called the RV store stating that when we arrived we were to call him. Seems the first officer did not take down all the necessary information needed, so the second office drove down from Carmacks to try and catch up with us. He arrived at the shop and asked some more questions, and then informed us that he was in contact with the parents of the kids and that they or the kids would be required to .make restitution and asked us for the bill. Here it gets interesting again, seems that safety glass is special order and we would have to hand around in Whitehorse for three weeks for it to arrive, since that was not an option we had to figure some other option. We informed the officer we would be sending the bill when we had it replaced down in the states.

I must say that our faith in the RCMP was restored, but not completely, not until my brother tells me he got a check back from them to cover the cost of replacing the window. So the next thing we needed to do was fix the window, it would not hold for much longer the way it was. We went shopping at the Yukon version of Home Depot (a much smaller version) and $65.00 later emerged with plexiglass, a rasp and a handy tool to cut the glass with. So for the remainder of the day we fixed the window. I will not bore you with the details, but in short you need to remove the entire inner and outer window casing, that required removing about 25 screws, prying off the glue they use to waterproof the frame and remove the old glass, that upon touching it shattered in the thousands of pieces before mentioned. While my brother carefully measured, cut, filed and test fitted the plexiglass, I occupied my self by trying to vacuum up all the pieces of glass that fell into every nook and cranny in the coach. So thanks to the kids of Carmacks we had about a day and half out of our trip wasted with a needless repair.

But if you ever have need of glass repair in a vehicle and you think the cost is high, reconsider; after viewing and going through all it takes to replace a piece of glass, we would have rather paid the cost and went on our way. We did manage to do a load of laundry and run into a fellow camper who we had helped out on the road up near Chicken, so all was not in vain. We left around 10:30 the following morning to dark clouds and a serious wind, the good weather we had for our repairs did not last, but fortunate for us lasted long enough for our needs. As you leave Whitehorse you start to slowly wind you way up into the higher elevations and our next destination, Watson Lake, most famous for the Sign Post Forrest.

From Whitehorse we continue down the Alaska Highway passing through such places as Tagish, Johnson’s Crossing where we are steadily climbing into the higher hills, but not yet classified as mountains. We pass Tagish Lake on our right where Johnson’s corner meets this long and narrow lake, and continue past vast ranges of spruce, sage and scrub trees. Soon we sight Teslin Lake on our right side, it is also a long and narrow lake it goes on for miles. Here we cross over the river on the Teslin Bridge, the longest bridge on the Alaska Highway and stop on the upper look out to view the river and take shots of the bridge. The small town of Teslin offers the avid fisherman plenty of catch, as well as the naturalist there are plenty of adventures to keep you fulfilled. About an hour or so up the highway you leave the Yukon behind and cross into British Columbia, here we stay a while but then cross back into the Yukon a few miles later. The highway takes a turn east for a bit and Watson Lake is in the Yukon.

We pass the Swift river still climbing and still the storm front following us, almost as it were connected to our bumper we seem to be just a tad bit in front, but losing ground. Watson Lake is a resort town, its economy is based on tourism and the most famous is the Sign Post Park. The first sign was placed in 1942 by one of the Alaskan road crew who was home sick and wanted a reminder of just how far he had come. Since then there have been well over 10,000 signs placed in the park. Some simply write on wooden slabs, some are a little more creative and actually place real street signs, city signs, freeway signs and there are signs from other countries as well. It makes for interesting reading. The wind is picking up so we opt to check into the RV park and call it a day. There is a small park down the street complete with its own lake called Wye, about the size of a football field. The dogs enjoy the romp even getting their feet wet before turning in the night. Well that front that followed us from Whitehorse decided to let loose and a torrential rain fell all night long. By day break the clouds, dark and menacing just hung lowly over the lake and you could not see the Canadian Rockies just ahead of us. That in its self should have forecast the rest of the day for us.

We departed in a bitterly cold and windy morning and started our steady climb up into the mountains. We left with a steady drizzle of rain that soon changed to steady rain, then to hard rain, then mushy sleet, and finally snow. All around us was evidence that when we had rain down at Watson Lake it was snowing up here. The trees looked like someone had dusted them with powdered sugar and the mountains had ribbons of low lying clouds adorning their peaks. Black and fluffy white clouds danced across the sky as the wind blew them back and forth, it looked like a tennis match. As we climbed further, the cold became intense, even with the heater on the cold seemed to slip in through the floor boards and just hover about waist high. The scenery is breath taking, and soon we are welcomed by two bands of buffalo along side the road. We stop and take some photos and they continue to graze or sn ooze, not even a flinch. Nonetheless, we are ever watchful since they have young calves with them. Up to now the climb has been steady and changes around each corner from snow, to rain and to spring, to winter each turn an adventure.

We continue to climb and soon come to Laird Hot Springs, on any other day we might have been tempted to stop and partake of a dip, but with the weather as unsettled, we did not want to chance being snowed in, so we continued on. We soon arrive at Muncho Lake, it is shrouded by dark mountains covered in a veil of soft white wispy clouds. Along side is a lone Caribou, perhaps coming down and crossing the road for a drink of ice cold water or to munch on some tender green tid bits. Still the weather is unpredictable, the sun peeks out a few times promising but not forth coming. We still are climbing, the mountains seem to go on forever with out the promise of down when around the corner Summit Lake comes into view. The road skirts around the edge, literally. You have only about a foot to the edge of the water so precaution is utmost in your mind. The lake is vast and a deep blue green in color. A lot of the lakes are a blue green color from the copper leaching into the steams, this lake however got its color from the mountains and vegetation refracting color into it.

Once we pass over the summit the scenery starts to change from high mountain to high hills and the lush dark green pines are replaces with smaller pole pines and scrub trees. Along side a side road we spot a black bear and two cubs. We stop staying in the car, across the street and take a few shots before continuing on. We even spot several wild horses grazing along side the road. A few more buffalo come into view. The Tetsa river flow from the lake and follows us, or we follow it for several miles. Soon we spot signs of people, small homesteads start to appear, then suddenly a large buffalo ranch looms into sight on our left. We soon will be dropping down into the town of Fort Nelson. Once a Hudson Bay Trading Post in the early 1800's it remained stagnated until the Army arrived in 1942. They named the town Zero, because looking at their maps, Fort Nelson was the beginning of the Alcan highway leading up to Delta Junction and to Fort Simpson in the Northwest Territory. We arrived around dusk and needed to find a place to stop for the evening, the GPS did not register any RV camp, but we did spot one as we came down the hill into town. We gassed up first and asked if the camp was okay, and the attendant said it was the better of the two in town.

We entered the camp and registered, the lady behind the counter said we could park any place except right in front of the Saloon. Now there was a Salon next to the office, so I figured she just said saloon and not salon, wrong. There was an actual Saloon in this RV park., right out of the past. We parked down about as far as you could go, and had mixed feelings about being in this camp. We had already been under attach by Indians at Carmacks we did not want another encounter tonight. To our great relief, the night was quiet and without incident. I would add a side note, up until now trying to find internet connections was nil or best impossible, however here in Fort Nelson, behind a Saloon we found the best, strongest WiFi since leaving Chugiak.

Since we lost about a day and a half we plan to drive for the next two days to make up time. We will leave early in the morning and head to Fort St. James and then to Dawson Creek, the mile post Zero for the Alaskan Highway, we will then turn and head towards Prince George were we will spend the night. This will require about 12 hrs of driving to reach our first nights goal, Prince George. We start our early and enter another portion of the eastern Rockies and again snow and bitter cold for about 200 miles. The snow finally stops but the cold remains, the scenery remains much the same as the trip up to Fort Nelson, but after a while we descend down into low foot hills dotted by cattle ranches and farming ranches. Down into Fort St. John we continue, to our amazement we find a modern, progressive city.

Fort Nelson was a two lane town, drab and not much to look at , however Fort St. John was a thriving community and if you had been placed in the middle of town you would not have guessed you were at the foot hills of the Canadian Rockies in British Columbia. We continue on to Dawson Creek not stopping for a look around but catching the John Hart Highway to Prince George. You pass through long narrow fertile valleys, dotted with small to moderate ranches, some spectacular to the eye. Small rivers follow you easily along the highway and soon we realize that we have left the vast northern territory and have entered into occupied territory. High power lines are notched into the green hill sides, along with phone lines, up until now not seen since leaving Tok, Alaska. Train trestles cross back and forth over the many rivers and streams, small roadside business spots dot the landscape beckoning the weary traveler in to rest and sit a spell.

The road winds back and forth slowly climbing through the lower Rockies allowing you passage to the western side of the mountain chain. You wind your way up towards Fraser Lake and Fort Fraser spectacular views are offered up around each turn. Some road work on the highway gives you an almost glass smooth ride and makes you forget some of the bone jarring ruts you have passed over. Hairpin turns keep you on the edge of your seat as you are continually looking in your side mirrors to see just where those back trailer wheels are. You come to the town of Vanderhoof and the roads mellow out a bit and the lush green mountain sides loom on both sides of you. While going though this particular stretch of road, the tape stated to play God Bless the USA, most of the time you don’t think about being an American, not until you are taken out of your comfort zone and the stark realization hits you, you are a "foreigner" in someone elses land. I then began to think about being home and the longing for the border crossing loomed into my mind. But still another hard days driving lay ahead. At last Prince George appears and we program the GPS for the closest RV part. This device is designed to take you to your destination via the closest route. It does not care if you are a Volkswagen or a 52 foot rig, it just tells you to turn and you are supposed to follow. So I followed it up a street, down a street, through residential streets until finally the park.
I don’t know if most of you have stayed in KOA’s or Good Sam Parks, until this trip I had not and did not know what to expect. With the exception of Fort Nelson all have been spotlessly clean, modern, complete with hot showers, clean restrooms, laundry facilities and some have gift shops and even buses to take you on sight seeing trips. However finding them is the problem, had it not been for the GPS we would never have even know they were there. Most are nestled in housing neighborhoods or in the middle of towns. And since space is an issue most squeeze the most available parking into them, so being able to handle a rig is essential. I drive up and down, and around corners carefully avoiding contact with anything around me, however when it comes to maneuvering something the size of a city bus into something as small as a standard parking space for a large automobile I leave that to my brother. He, I guess you could say, could thread that thing through the eye of a needle.

We settle down for the night and rested for tomorrow’s final assault and run for the border. Last but not least and perhaps the most challenging drive yet awaited us. It is seven thirty and we are gassing up, as we wait for the 50 or so gallons to fill I notice the kids are walking to school. Just like any other place, they huddle together, whispering, giggling whenever the boys walk by or checking out the competition. We start down the road which leads through the middle of Prince George, much like any small to middle size town it has the fast food chains from the lower 48 and most of the stores are linked together, painted a bluish color and have flat roofs.

Lumber mills are to my left and a bridge to cross the river which flows through the town is in front of me. After we are soon crossing into flat farming and ranching country, vast horse ranches, hay fields and farming loom before us. We pass quaint farm houses, some from the turn of the century. Their roofs sag like the sway back of an old horse from the years of snow load on them. The logs have lost their chinking and most have no windows or doors but still stand proudly along side the roads reminding those who past of those who came first. The river cuts a deep gorge through rock, granite and creates a spectacular sight. We climb slowly winding our way up into the mountains. We cross through many small logging towns and are careful to let the large logging trucks have right of way. They waste nothing, some mills cut, shape and others process the pulp, while still others process the sawdust into particle board.
We pass through narrow mountain passes and come upon many lakes, some named others are not, we are passing places called Qusenal, Williams Lake and our goal is to reach Kamloops. We turn and start on a very narrow two lane road climbing ever still towards Kamloops, along the road are steep drop offs and large looming hills. There is a large lake below and winds for as long as the eye can see. Finally we reach Kamloops and stop for gas and some supplies. Larry starts to drive the next stretch and now I am glad, they have finished a new highway up through the mountains and is supposed to cut your travel time. Well I don’t know how long it took before and perhaps the drive was scenic, this highway called Coquihalla is a 4-5 lane all out drive straight up and I mean straight up with no let up. It goes from Kamloops and climbs to the first summit of 4059, then 4269 and finally 4332, where it then starts is descent straight down for 14-15 km. The semis are gearing down for this run and there are run away truck ramps all the way down. Cars have no problem, but an RV towing a large trailer and vehicle cause a lot of push and the push causes you to go faster, and faster.

I think I am a rational person and my brother is also, but we more than once stated to each other, why were we on this highway, by the time you hit the valley below you notice that you almost at once are starting to climb yet another pass. This one threads and winds you through some breath taking mountains covered by huge pines, lush ferns and all are shrouded in clouds that hover just below their tops. You are entering a magical place where time stands still, the only realization that you are still on earth are the semis that have now caught up with you and are passing you at speeds capable to launch them into orbit. Some of the mountains have had large portions of their slopes slide down to the valley floors, still others show off their impressive granite cliffs that rise high above the low lying misty clouds.

We pass through an avalanche tunnel, constructed to save you, and your vehicle if you happen to be there when a slide is going on. The tunnel is designed with special angles to deflect and withstand the vast amounts of snow generated by a snow slide. This highway is a toll highway and soon we come to a stop to pay the piper, it costs us 10.00 Canadian to pass for a vehicle our size. All I have is a $20.00 (American) for I get a Canadian $10.00 and two quarters, a dime and a nickel for change. They give you the current rate of exchange which I still have since we did not stop any other place until the border. We are now starting on the downward side of this magnificent pass and are following a narrow river and there are farms along side now, cattle, some dairy, horses, specialty, performance types. We pass through Merritt, Hope and finally Chilliwak and the border crossing.

You form into two lanes and finally into 5 separate gates, you wait for the green light to advance to the guard and your picture is taken, both you and the vehicle. We presented our passports, declared what we had purchased and passed through into the USA. We set the GPS for the nearest RV part, it was totally dark and when you enter the U.S. you are in farm country, two lane roads, no street lights, if you don’t know where you are going, your not going to get there. Our park was located in Lynden Washington. Now remember when I told you that you needed to be able to thread the camper and trailer through the eye of a needle, you also need to do this in total darkness. We arrived at 8:30 and you must find you spot and park with only parking lights, then get out and hook up the water, electric and sewer. Hooray for brothers!

Next morning we started out now in daylight to head towards Seattle. Lynden is mostly flat farm land with a modest town. Soon we are up on the freeway heading south. Now we set the GPS to take us around the sound and up on the other side, but the GPS had other plans in store for us. It wanted us to take the ferry across the sound. It kept telling us to turn, hang a U turn, and was constantly trying to get us to turn around. We had other plans, we were in down town Seattle, passing the space needle and going under a rather interesting tunnel and wanted to reach Olympia. After we passed SeaTac and the Boeing facility we had assumed the GPS would now notice what we were doing and provide the proper directions, so when it said, exit, turn left, and another immediate right, we did as we were told and yup, we were back on the freeway heading back to Seattle and the ferry. So we did what you might expect, we went to the ferry, you can't beat them, let them lead you.

You wind through narrow streets, through small shops and homes until you come to the ferry terminal. Now cars cost $14.00 and that included two passengers, then there was a cost for trucks (slightly larger than pickups) that was around $20.00 then they add extra costs for towing a vehicle, the height of your vehicle, the width and over length and number of axles. It cost us $76.00 to ride and you don’t do much once on board. Mostly you sit in your car and the ride takes about 15 minutes, you can exit and go on deck but by the time you wind you way through the maze of vehicles and find the deck they are announcing the docking procedure and you must return to your car. So we sat munching of Fritos and bean dip all the while plotting revenge on the GPS.

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Photos

Dawson City Across the Yukon
Dawson City seen from the Top Of The World Highway overlook.

Dawson City Ferry Point
Dawson City across the Yukon River as seen from the ferry landing.

Streets of Dawson City
Dawson City has wooden sidewalks, store fronts and gravel streets. A real frontier flavor.

Open Window
The brolen window, the glass and frame removed for temporary repair.

Repairing Window
Cutting the plexiglass to fit the frame of the window. A picnic table under the trees is my workbench.

Ready to Mount
The completed temporary repair, ready to install, that will serve us through rain, snow, cold, heat, wind and rough roads.

Teslin Bridge
The longest bridge in the Alaska Highway, the Teslin Bridge makes a sceinic portrait of a remote hamlet.

Sign Post Forest
Unbolt the street sign from your corner (late at night I would guess) and bring it to Watson Lake and mount it there in the Sign Post Forest.

Rain and Snow
The Canadian Rockies treated us to an early snow storm.

More Rain and Snow
Rain at times, snow at intervals, lots of rime ice on the cab, and always slippery roads.

Caution! Buffalo On The Road
A large herd of buffalo braved the freezing rain and grazed and napped along the side of the road.

Caribou
Caribou searched the gravels along sode the road. I think they were looking for salt to lick.

And Bears, Oh My!
A large sow and two cubs were seen raiding a large dumpster along side the highway.

Its A Long Road
You drive for hours and all you see is more road ahead.