Midnight Sun

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North, to ..?

Hello folks, Raeann here. Scott’s turned the blog over to me for an entry or two.

We left Denali the morning of June 20, Arctic Circle Bound—to be in the land where the sun never sets, above 67 degrees North on the Summer Solstice.

Moving north, skirting Fairbanks on the Elliot Highway, we were fearless and full of cheer. A few hours later we came to the fork in the road. The way to the right was the Dalton Highway, set to bring us 115.5 miles later, to the Arctic Circle.

We made the turn. The paved road stopped, replaced by black cinder rocks, shriveled apple size like the stones that pave the path to hell. A cloud passed in front of the sun and a cold drizzle began to smack the windshield. The signs that marked our path: “Heavy Industrial Traffic,” “Steep Grade and Narrow Road,” “Alaska DOT Stations to Not Provide Service or Gas.” Dad braked as we traded wary looks.

Some of us wanted to go on. Some of us wanted to go back. “Flip for it!” Scott whispered as he pulled a quarter from his pocket. “Heads, we go on, otherwise we turn tail…”

Moments later Dad was flipping a U-Turn in front of a Heavy Industrial Vehicle, and all the Dalton Highway saw of us was our brake lights flashing as we bobbed along the washboard road, southbound.

Now, we could have gone back to Fairbanks, but our trusty Milepost let us know that if we chose the other fork in the road, we were only eighty miles from the town of Manley Hot Springs. With new courage, the van flew forward. We were once again bathed in sunlight, our path lined with Alaska Cotton flowers and something that looked like miniature black-eyed Susans. It was still early in the day (5:30 pm, approximately seven hours before sunset), but it’s never too soon to look for a choice camping spot, so we stopped along the banks of the gently flowing Tolovana River. The banks were edged by multi-floral rose and the delicate ferns. Alighting from the van, we were greeted by two million six hundred thousand forty three mosquitoes.

After much batting, swatting, and smooshing, we were again on the road, again trading wary looks.

Some of us wanted to go on. Some of us wanted to go back. “Flip for it!” urged Raeann. It was heads! Onward!

A couple of hours and eighty scenic miles later, we enjoyed a good meal at the Manley Roadhouse, a true goldrush inn dating from 1907. The hostess there directed us to the home of Mrs. Gladys Dart. She provided us with lodging in a rustic cabin on here property, just across from her greenhouse, which houses the natural geothermal Manley Hot Springs. We enjoyed an 11:00 pm soak in the hot, hot water. It’s now 12:30am on June 21st, very nearly twilight. It won’t ever become really dark tonight. More about the effects of that on my brother’s already slippery grasp of sanity in my next post.

We found the end of the road, folks. We will go back the way we came, because there is no other way out except boat or gloat plane—the road ends in the Tanana River about two miles past Manley Hot Springs.

And so to bed, serenaded by the rooster in yard, the gurgling outflow from the springs, and the whine of a few hundred mosquitoes that made it past the screens! Another classic Alaska day!

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Photos

Our Rustic Cabin
Can you hear the whine of the skeeters?

Comments

[Chris Stohr]

thanks for blog
Raeann: Thanks for adding to the blog. I enjoy your and Scott's accounts of your travels as Sara and I hope to take to the trail in years to come. As for Scott's slippery grasp of sanity, I defer to your longer acquaintance and sibling insight. Back in the 'hood we think of it as eccentricity and "character". Travel on. Chris