No Place to Get Cold Feet (Cold Foot, Alaska)

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Today is the day we get to journey north on the roadway featured on one of Sharon’s favorite programs: Ice Road Truckers… not! (She hates the show and can’t understand why I ever watched it) The difference is, the Dalton Highway should not be covered in ice this time of year. We got something light to eat, not wanting to chow down on a big meal before starting out on what will surely be a long day on the road. We’d gotten the telephone number of a taxi company from the driver who rescued us when the lodge van broke down. We were told he’d be here in fifteen minutes. Sharon was getting worried when nobody had shown up after twenty minutes. I called back; but, was having trouble getting through. We tried Sharon’s phone, and we got connected long enough to let the dispatcher know our problem, and he said that he’d check to make sure the driver was on the way; but, we got disconnected. I wasn’t able to get through, and now I was getting nervous. I went in to the front desk and asked for them to call me a taxi. She asked where we needed to go. I needed to go and check with Sharon who was outside with our bags. Our destination was actually on the other side of the airport so she offered the lodge shuttle to help us out, something that I appreciated even if it didn’t instill the greatest confidence; but, then Sharon popped in to say that the taxi had shown up (just not the taxi that we’d called). The taxi had been sent to us by the dispatcher that I’d called; but, just one that he’d called from another company.



We arrived at the Northern Alaska Tour Company (NATC) office through the East Gate of Fairbanks International Airport out of which all the small air freight and tourist flights operated. We were the first to arrive, and nobody seemed to know exactly where we were supposed to stow our larger bags; but, finally the agent appeared through a back door, which is as it turns out where the bags get stored. There was a big burly guy dressed in heavy outdoors boots, heavy duty hunting style cargo pants held up by suspenders, whom I’d asked about storing luggage. It’s no wonder that he didn’t know because he’d just returned from his own trip to the North Slope, and he was here a day early to return the all-terrain vehicle that he had rented from NATC. He and his wife evidently had a great trip and saw many animals including a polar bear, grizzly bear, many moose, musk ox, caribou and many birds. His story about the polar bear was a little unbelievable, because he talked about a muddy polar bear, which sounds a lot like a brown bear. I’m just saying. But he did have one word of advice that seemed sound, “All you need to accept to enjoy the trip, is that you’ll be going along at 35 to 40 MPH, and not worry about getting somewhere fast… just make sure that you get there.” Anyway, he had some family emergency that he needed to get back to. Four people did show up who are on our tour, two couples from New Hampshire. The taller gentleman, and most outgoing of the four, greeted me by saying, “Well, I guess we’re going to be fly buddies today?” I must have looked like a deer with headlights in my eyes, because I was struggling to figure out exactly what he meant by that, and Sharon nudged me and said, “He asked you a question.” And I mumbled something like, “Yeah, I guess we’re going north today… but we’re not flying up, we’re flying back.” We soon realized that they had also booked the southbound flight expecting to journey back by land; but, they hadn’t received the email changing the itinerary… We were all driving up and then flying back.



We were given a “Lunch Form” and got our chance to build our sandwich to eat later that day. We got to choose a type of bread, a type of cheese, a type of meat, choice of any tomato, lettuce and onion, choice of a variety of chips and a choice of mayo and mustard. I added and circled a big “ NONE” for Sharon on her form… something about her not having her glasses at the ready. I think this is why Sharon brings me on these involved vacations: To be her own personal pack mule and to be her personal secretary and fill out forms for her. Our driver Mike then appeared and was introduced to the group. Mike announced “We will be making rest stops every one-and-one-half to two-and-one-half hours, depending on facilities that are available. Our first stop will be in ninety minutes, so this may be your last chance to use a rest room with running water.” The reality of this trip was beginning to sink in, if it hadn’t already. We went out to the Ford E-Series van that would be our chariot and our bags were loaded in the back. Sharon and I were the last to board and the smaller of the two men had already claimed shotgun. Sharon and I squeezed into the rear row of seats. The van actually holds ten passengers; but, it is much better at seating six and we were thankful that there were no others joining us. No one could miss the crack in the wind shield that started on the passenger side and ran across the lower part of the windshield where it turned up directly in front of the driver. A second crack started in the upper part of the windshield on the driver’s side and then curled down towards the other crack. The wife of the man riding shotgun asked Mike if he was married, and I guess Mike’s answer was a conversation stopper, “No. I’m footloose and fancy free.” A bit later Mike revealed some more things about himself, having children and a granddaughter, and he talked of his wife in the past tense. Sharon had been wondering if Mike was the husband of the tour guide that she had enjoyed on her first trip to the Arctic. She had heard that she had died a couple of years ago.



It seemed to take quite a while to travel across Fairbanks and we found ourselves on the road north, passing Gold Dredge Number 8 on the way. Mike noted that we weren’t stopping here to check out the pipeline; because, we’d have a better chance farther north. During this first part of the trip, the taller of the two men, sitting next to his wife on the first bench seat, monopolized the driver’s conversation, asking one question after another. I guess this was engaging for Mike; but, it prevented Mike from covering his talking points of the tour and it was a bit of a bore for the rest of us because only Mike had a microphone and what the guy was saying was hard to follow with all of the road noise. Mike pulled to the side of the road, and we’d spotted our first wildlife, a red fox some distance off, just standing there and surveying its terrain.



Mike explained how the black spruce would be getting shorter and shorter, the farther north that we go. The black spruce is a variety of tree that has adapted to be able to survive in the frozen tundra of the north. Its roots do not run deep, instead they run horizontally in the surface area of soil, that unfreezes in the spring and only freezes again when the weather turns. The roots don’t venture where the tundra remains frozen year-round. Mike told us a groaner of a joke, and he did admit that his granddaughter chided him not to tell that joke anymore. “But, I can’t help myself,” Mike explained.



Our first stop was at an old homestead in Joy Alaska and I was glad to get out of the back. Sharon asked, how I was doing and I admitted, “A couple of those bumps really bothered my back!” The homestead couple now in their nineties resides in Fairbanks. They sold their homestead to NATC and now the homestead is staffed by a local woman who manages the store where various tourist items and consumables are offered for sale. Sharon asked about Mike’s wife, saying that she thinks that his wife had been the tour guide on her first visit to the North. And it was confirmed that Jackie was indeed his wife. It just goes to show how small the world really is! The wind nearly took my red hat off; but, I was able to secure it before that happened. Sharon said, “Oh, he doesn’t want to lose ‘that’ hat. It’s a very ‘special’ hat. He’ll have to tell you about it later.” The one gentleman bought his wife a very nice necklace featuring a loon (having a special meaning for them and their home in New Hampshire). Mike did give us the background of the company that he’s been working for over the last fifteen years. Northern Alaska Tour Company was started by three friends which wanted to fill a niche not addressed by larger tour outfits. They started out with just a few vans letting guests travel to the Arctic Circle. At first they contracted with outside pilots to get travelers north or south, and people were put up overnight in available lodgings, which would likely differ from one trip to the next depending on availability. Over the years, they’ve taken the opportunity to acquire various properties, including this first homestead that we’ve come across. They also own the place that we will be staying in when we get to Cold Foot; and, also the camp in Dead Horse. The outhouse was around the side. When we re-boarded the bus, the shot gun seat had been vacated. He had taken a seat beside his wife, and was complaining to others that he didn’t know if he could put up with the slow pace of the driving. But it gave me a chance to take the shotgun Seat though it left Sharon without a good window since the one couple had separated into the window seats on the left.



All along the road the pipeline was almost always in view on one side of the road or the other. We were finally on the Dalton Highway and it was a road without much traffic. The occasional truck would pass us going south. We came across occasional work crews who were either performing road work, or checking something on the pipeline. Once we saw a helicopter fly over, and Mike told us that it was doing an aerial check of the pipeline. We’d encountered that the day before just as the train conductor was going to start his violin rendition. It was interrupted by one of these helicopters, and the conductor lamented “Why do they always do this to me?” We past a section of trees that had clearly been decimated by fire. I asked, seeing the proximity of the fire to the pipeline, if this was a concern. Mike pointed out that the area immediately around the pipeline had been cleared of any foliage or brush. He also said the only places of concerns are the pump stations and in those locations active measures would be taken to combat a fire. Otherwise, the policy in Alaska seems to be “Let it burn!”



Mike turned to me and said, “So, tell us about your hat.” I read what the hat says, “Everest Expedition” and “Summit Team”. I said, “I was wearing this hat while we were waiting in Chicago for our shuttle to the airport to fly to Shanghai. It was very cold and the wind was blowing. There was another couple standing there, and his wife complained, ‘Oooh, this is very cold!’ Her husband said, ‘Shhh!’ elbowing her in the ribs and whispered, ‘Don’t talk about being cold. Don’t you see HIS hat? Well that’s the basic fun of this hat that I got at Animal Kingdom in Disney World where the hat refers to one of the attractions there: Expedition Everest. The saga continues in the Holy Land when we took a pilgrimage there with Sharon’s sister Erin. We were dining in a Mediterranean themed restaurant where guests were invited to where the red fez in front of each dining place along a long common table. So what was there to do with my red hat if I had to wear their red hat? I stuffed it in the back of my pants. Unfortunately, I forgot about that when I later went to the restroom, and, well you can guess where the hat wound up!” Mike and everyone thought that that was pretty funny; but, Sharon was interjecting, “The hat has been washed… more than once!”



We reached our lunch stop at the Yukon River where our orders had been phoned in and were waiting for us. The bread was separately wrapped, as was the five slices of meat, and two slices of cheese and a separate bag for the lettuce, tomato and onion with a packet of mayo and another of mustard. One lady complained, “You mean we have to build our own sandwiches?” Everyone did agree though that the helping of meat was plentiful. Sharon enjoyed the Famous Amos cookies (as did I).



Back on the road, I got in by Sharon on the middle bench. None of the women wanted to ride shotgun. That left shotgun for the guy who likes to talk. Lunch may have made him a bit sleepy, because he seemed to be satisfied to let the miles go by without too much talking. Mike took us off road again saying, “There is something I think you should see.” He began taking us up a steep section of trail, that seemed to be winding precariously. I wasn’t comforted by Mike’s comment that the company was wondering what van would be replacing these; because, all the driver-guides liked these but evidently Ford has had a problem with the E-Series overturning. I thought we’d reached the top, when Mike adjusted the van’s orientation, and even I was thinking, “Oh, he’s not taking us up that!” But he did. And he was right, the view from up at the top of this mound was very impressive, and very windy as well. We took the opportunity to take some pictures, then, it was back on the road again.



We were on a steep section of road that was being maintained and there was some loose dirt piled down the middle of the road. We spotted two motorcycles, both of the Harleys, and evidently one of them had gone down in the loose roadway. He was up now, and set out trying to make it up the next section. It looked like he wasn’t going to make it, and then the other motorcycle sped after him to catch up. They both made it to the top. We followed on behind. Shortly we came upon the point where there was a pullout for our crossing the Arctic Circle. Mike had a special ceremony prepared for us. He rolled out a little rug that had a red dashed line, to designate the Arctic Circle. Each of us then crossed the line one at a time, and with each crossing Mike shook our hands and congratulated us. He then disappeared to the back of the van and came back with a slice of chocolate cake and whipped cream for each of us. And of course we got a certificate to make it official. We’d made it to latitude 66 degrees 33 minutes north and the point where one day at the summer solstice that the sun never sets. The farther north you go, then the longer you remain in perpetual daylight. At the north pole the day is six months long, followed by one six-month night!



Along the way Mike pointed out some stretches of road made famous on Ice Road Truckers during their winter runs down stretches such as “The Roller Coaster” or around “Oh S*#t Corner” and “Oil Spill Hill”. Mike pointed out where the distant Prospect Pipeline Camp had recorded the record cold temperature of 80 degrees below zero (Fahrenheit). Wild life has been elusive on this stretch of road, and near 3 PM on this first day we had our second wildlife sighting. It was also a red fox; but, this one seemed much more lively and in better shape than the haggard one we’d spotted from a distance. This one seemed to delight in amusing us by his antics and jumping around.



We were nearing our destination for the day of Cold Foot, when we were delayed by a workman holding a “STOP” sign. We waited for what seemed like an awfully long time when Mike noted that they’re only permitted to delay us for twenty minutes; but, nobody had thought to start a stop watch. It sure seemed like we’d been there for twenty minutes. Some ten minutes later we saw the “Pilot Car” come the other way and turn around in front of us. A stream of traffic passed by, and then we followed the “Pilot Car” as it guided us over the work area which extended for many miles, sometimes narrowing to a single lane and at other times snaking through large earth moving equipment. We could see why you needed to follow someone. I asked about the name “Cold Foot” and Mike told us that the name was in reference to quite a number of old time miners who had come to find goal. Many turned back in this region due to weather extremes, just plain giving up, or as Mike put it, “They got Cold Feet”. And so the area was christened: Cold Foot.



We arrived at our lodging place where a buffet dinner awaited us. The buffet was $21 and had ample helpings of a few items. There were delicious pork loins and also a tasty cod fish. There were also some very good sides, including mashed potatoes (with optional gravy so Sharon was happy), quinoa, vegetables and a nice salad bar. We also got another “Lunch Form” so our lunches would be available the next day. We paid for everything at once, and they accepted credit cards.



It was soon time to go to sleep in our dorm style lodgings, two single beds to a room with a private bathroom. There was not room for much else. The room became quite warm once the door was closed and we were forced to open the window. And we also had to deal with a sun that wasn’t going to set!

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