Blogging by headlamp on the Denali Highway

(a post-trip blog)
The Denali Highway was the first road access to Denali National Park and opened in 1957. Less than 15 years later, a major paved highway would eliminate the need for this dirt 135 mile dirt road. Today, it serves as access to valleys and mountains along with 3 large river drainages. The road has very little traffic, minimal services are available; the road tends to be washboard and dusty, forcing speed limits down to about 35 mph.

Diane, a friend, was joining us on her Suzuki V-Strom, we were on Kawasaki KLRs. Labor Day weekend is hunting season in Alaska, and this area is prime hunters heaven. We were hoping to ride through the area, explore mining roads, and camp-out without getting shot or running into snow. There are limited services and the weather report was calling for rain the entire weekend, but we knew our riding days in Alaska were winding down before the snow fell.  Finally, I wanted to check out the zip line in Talkeetna – 9 zips and a 3 hour experience; one never knows how long you will be around. With winter looming, there was a sense of acceptance for the bad weather; it will soon get worse.

We packed like we would be freezing: heated gear, winter hats for camp, lots of beer in bubble wrap (bubble wrapped beer is critical on washboard rut roads… trust us… we know). Because I knew it was going to be extra cold, wet and miserable on this trip, I opted to toss in a flask of Schnapps to help blur the edge at camp.*

Bubble wrapped beer is essential for camping in remote places in Alaska!

We rolled out of Anchorage and made it as far as Sheep Mountain Lodge before the first issue occurred. I was dismounting from my motorcycle with hot chili and bread roll (their bread rolls are a must if you ever visit this way) on my mind, when I see a flash of yellow from the corner of my eyes. I look over and see Michael in a “tuck-n-roll” flying away from his motorcycle; his bike lying on the ground. Michael’s bike was so fully loaded and with the ground uneven, he tipped the bike to far over to pop the kickstand down and the weight took him over. He and his bike were okay, but if he had parked 10 feet more forward, he would have been trapped between a large log and his bike. Not life threatening, but he probably would have gotten banged up. In the process of the tuck-n-roll, he shredded the Bose headphone wires he was wearing.

Diane (left) and Michael (right) enjoying the rain on the Denali Highway, Alaska

I purchased a new IPod for the trip. I tend to use my IPhone for music most of the time, but it can drain the battery. Since I wanted to conserve battery for picture taking, I purchased a backup for music. I can charge the devices while riding, but sitting around in camp not on the bike drains batteries. I pulled out my new IPod to turn on (since I had to get a backup set of headphones for Michael), and turned it on. I must have clicked one button too many, because before I knew it my IPod was in Russian! Damn it! Since it was a new device, I was not familiar with all the screens and such. We all stared at my Russian IPod listing Brandie Carlile songs in such a manner I have never seen. Hmmm… It took a bit to figure out what “reset” looks like in Russian and symbols, but luckily we fixed it.

Tummies filled with chili, we rolled out into the RAIN RAIN RAIN, destination: mosquito capital of the Alaska – Paxson Lake Campground (according to the milepost). This is also the campsite where my life long hate of squirrels was born. I was on the look-out for the furry vermin. We made it to the campground and quickly set up the tents. Diane picked some lovely wild blueberries and Michael found the Schnapps.*

*Funny… Michael found the Schnapps within minutes of reaching Paxson Lake Campground.

We proceeded to put our tents up in the most miserable downpour possible… and because the trees were so sparse and far apart, setting up any sort of tarp to gather under for shelter and enjoy each others company was made impossible. On top of that, it was a brand new tent - one we were not all the familiar in setting up (we actually ended up reading the instructions in a down pour). We called it early and crawled into the tent just to stay dry. This became blogging by headlamp.

Blogging by headlamp really meant pencil, light, and Write/Rain notebook.

Do I Look That Old?

High School Reunion Blog - to come

Carved by the Tires of Other Travelers

(Belated post - catch-up)

We left Eagle Plains not sure if Michael still had a job. We had built in 4 days extra in case the road was difficult, and we ended up being on the road an extra six days! If you are going to do this road, make sure you have wiggle room in case it goes south. There is something about this road that I just love. I believe this road is a breathing living entity. It can choose to let you pass with no problems and a simple easy ride, or it can choose to play with you. I have traveled various parts of this road on 3 different occasions. I believe the most gorgeous part is up to Tombstone – if you can’t do the whole thing, then do that part. The rest of the road is just for the sake of traveling and doesn’t offer any earth shattering scenery. But the adventure it can throw at you, there is that. It depends on your disposition.

The road changes daily, it can be one completely different animal on the way back down then it was going up - our road we traveled back was completely different. It was rutty and hard, carved by the tires of other travelers. Very little mud. In my mind I am thinking the road is satisfied in the price we paid for the privilege to see Inuvik. We are thankful to hit pavement and roll into Dawson. 

We met up with Anna in Dawson. They were topping of their tanks and heading to the Lower 48 to finish the rest of their travels in the US, soon they would be heading back to Europe.

Trip details and photos to come.

Mozzies, Lorries, Backhoes and Bulldozers...

*Pictures to come later

Back in Fort McPherson…

We were hopeful. We woke up to the news that the road was finally open. Now the pressure was on the ferry man to get the boat going. We could see the traffic starting to stack up on the other side of the banks. This was wonderful! The banks had been empty for days. Now, it appeared that it was possible to move pass the road washouts.

The log jam was not cleared out completely, there was one resistant pile hanging on, with one very larger tree still hanging on the cable. Earlier they had loaded a backhoe onto the ferry, drove to the other side of the boat, hung the arm over the water and tried to clear debris that way. This was very exciting, as they did not counter weight the other end of the ferry, and the whole ferry was weighted down and heavy on one end, causing the boat to be way low on that end.  This cleared some of the jam, but not all.

Finally, a ferry man climbed on top of the woodpile with a chain saw. Talk about getting paid to do stupid thing! It was sort of like standing on pick-up sticks and removing the sticks…  I shook my head, I wanted out of there, but not at the expense of someone getting hurt. A reminder how you just need to do what you need to do this far north.  He climbed back in the boat and they rammed the woodpile again, most of it broke up and floated down stream. The northern peanut gallery broke out in cheers.

Playing dangerous with a chainsaw

The next thing that needed to happen was to complete the load ramps. The high river had washed away the dirt loading ramps on both sides. They were having difficulty in making a stable dock on the south side. Too much of the bank had eroded away, and all the gravel they were putting in was falling through and getting washed or saturated to where there was no stability. They worked on it for hours, and finally ended up with a bank they hoped would work. We spent the entire day watching them push dirt around with machinery. The best we could hope for that late in the day was Eagle Plains.

Now, all the people who wanted to get out of there were not so sure they wanted to go first! Dave the truck driver, said he would rather wait until it was more compacted down. We hemmed and hawed.  With skinny motorcycle tires, we would certainly sink further than a lot of folks.  I told Michael, I would rather drop my bike on the other side of the bank and have people have to help me up, then to be stuck in FM another night. We volunteered to go. It turns out this was a good move.

We waited for the entire ferry to empty, The ground was like oatmeal… we approached the south ramp and the ferry guys eyes got real wide.

Michael went first and dropped into the slop… and sunk. He throttled it to get through and fishtailed to the top. I went next, the ferry guys eyes got wider. I swam through the oatmeal, got purchase and made it to the top and didn’t look back We were finally on solid ground on the sound side of the Peel River.

We heard later that this was a very smart move on our part. When they tried to reload the ferry right after us, a truck pulling a trailer got stuck and tore the ramp up, even with repairs, it was too soft. The first car off on the south side ripped it’s bumper off completely, and several motorhomes scrapped the undercarriages trying to get off… some doing damage. Dave, whom we met up with in Eagle Plains for a beer later that night, said when his front two tires of his diesel hit the soft ground, he felt it sink and say “oh crap.” He had a vision of his truck being stuck half on the ferry and half on this soft sinking bank.

Once on the road, the road was a smooth ribbon winding through the bush, with only minimal ruts. We passed Rock River and couldn’t even tell the road was nonexistent just the day before. Every time we stopped the mozzies fed. Dragon flys kept hitting my windscreen with loud thunks.

We were told to keep an eye out for the porcupine caribou herd; it was migrating in the area. We kept an eye out, but had not look. We did catch more moose, and several folks saw grizzlies, but with my eyes focused on the gravel, it is hard to watch the road and the scenery consistently. Several hunters were success with caribou.

We rolled into Eagle Plains and got the last room available. We had Lead Dog Ale in the bar, and Dave joined us for road stories. We exchanged address and plan to stay in touch. I said hi to Jaz’s favorite friend in the bar.

FM4

We spent the day watching the ferry men ram the log jam with the ferry. We think, but are not entirely sure that the road may be repaired by tomorrow.

Ferry spent day ramming log jam and breaking it up in little pieces.. you can only watch debris float down river for so long. It is the hot ticket in town though...

Dave the trucker called Eagle Plains and learned that the culvert was salvageable. They had the culvert in place and stabilized with wood by 1 pm yesterday. They were waiting for dump trucks of gravel and fill to be hauled in to cover the culvert, and then they could resurface the road - the road maybe ready to cross as early as tomorrow afternoon. We were so thankful to Dave for keeping us in the CB-loop, that we gave him our last cold beer. Dave almost cried. The man has been sitting in his truck starring out his windshield for 5 days. He does not want to leave his truck because he has 1,000 liters of fuel in tanks on the bed. He is worried his about his gas. He thinks the road will be open soon.

If we could only get across the effing Peel River…

Locals are using small boats to go across. No way we can put motorcycles in those.

The tourists are gathering on the North side of the Peel River, with mutiny in the air. There is talk about boarding the boat. Of course it is all fantasy, but that is what DEET for days does to you.   

Savage DEET... note the image of the trail in the wetlands...30% DEET guaranteed to make tourists fantasize about mutiny.

The Canadians from other provinces are convinced there is a plot against the natives… the Europeans are incredulous, and the Alaskan’s are just tired… all of us have ideas how the job could have been done more efficiently. 

I got all the tourists to line up in protest. They are all watching the agonizingly slow work on the log-jam.

 The contractors for the ferry company are pointing fingers at the NWT transportation government office; the NWT transportation government office is pointing fingers at the contractors. It appears they argued for two days trying to figure out who was doing what and more importantly… whose fault it was. Finally today, they tried to work together to get something done. 

A full day of ferry-ramming seems to have finally cleared up the log jam. Tomorrow they must check the line for damage and re-anchor it. If the line is good, we may be able to cross tomorrow. None of us are holding our breath.

Finally, after two days of watching debris hang on the lines, workers mover to stop more debris from getting hung up.

The B and B owners brought us over a frozen solid turkey (like you have for thanksgiving). They were concerned if we had enough to eat. We thanked them and put it in the freezer.  I turned to Michael and said… it will take a full day for that bird to thaw out, and we couldn’t cook it until the day after… do the townspeople know something we don’t about how long it will take to get out of here? He shrugged his shoulders.

The plan is to be down at the boat at 9 am hoping like hell it is running. If we can cross the river, then we can camp at the washout until it is open.

(Note: This may be my last post for a while if the road opens in the morning - will try to catch up in Dawson.)

FM3

(Fort McPherson: Day 3)

We got up and evaluated. We had a very nice comfortable night, actually slept in. We need to make the most of our sleep time, as we can only stay here one more night. Room cost is a premium; I have paid less for a room at the Marriott in the heart of Washington D.C.

We have been adopted by a native woman that is well traveled and highly respected in the native communities. Her name is Roberta and she is the equivalent of the subsistence manager for the Indian nation Tr’ondek Hwech’in. She is staying with a friend in FM. She has come by and spent time chatting about the native battles with the Yukon Government over development of the Peel River. We also spoke of how the native groups are organized in Canada and how that differs from Alaska. She has boated most of the distance of the Yukon River (no small feat), and will be visiting us in Anchorage in a few weeks

Went to the grocery store and picked up a few things. Canadian Kit Kats are the bomb. The prices are incredible, the conversion rate from US to Canadian currency is nearly the same, so when you look at a price, it makes the mouth drop open. 

Half gallon of milk $7.69

Small box of cereal $9.75

We rented  videos because we knew were going to be here for a while, and the B and B has a DVD player, but no satellite reception – it is down due to the winds. The woman told me if the ferry opens unexpectedly and we find ourselves having to bug out of town quickly, leave the videos in a plastic bag on the loading dock of the grocery store.

Coming out of the grocery store we met up with fellow stranded German travelers Zig and Peter. These Euros have been having a bit of a rough go on the road. Peter was a bit emotional, on the verge of tears. He said it took them 3 years to save enough money for this trip, and now they are stuck and unable to do their trip. 

The Euro's - Peter and Zig on the right of Michael.

They rented a motorhome. Michael helped them put the mirror back on, it kept vibrating loose with road conditions, and they had no tools. We carry an assortment of tools on our bikes. On top of that it was a dry community and they had finished their beer! We told them we may become neighbors in a day or too and would look for them at the campground.

Peter and Zig's rental rig, and probably our new neighbors in the campground.

We got gas because now that we are at a supply standstill on the road  gas prices are going up.

While at the gas station, we ran in to Dave, a truck driver.  We chatted with Dave about road conditions, the truckers know the most. Apparently the folks in Eagle Plains are the hub of accurate information, tending to know more than even the Canadian Mounties. Dave echoed what Roberta said – the provinces do not talk to each other very well, information will be sketchy. Dave is the one that gave us the most info – about the current situation.

Dave, the one good source of info in FM

The washout occurred at a place called Rocky Creek. One of the culverts broke loose and the road washed out due to unusually high water from all the rain. The culvert floated downstream and banked. In order to repair this, special equipment must be brought in from Dawson, first to x-ray the culvert to ensure safe re-use, and second to haul it back up stream. All the appropriate equipment has arrived on scene, but now they are waiting for the river level to decrease in order to start. The road crews were anticipating a delay as long as 10 days, but may have a single lane open to let the stranded people through. All this is weather dependent. The forecast for the next few days is clear. There is hope! We thanked Dave for the update and headed back to our little house.

We are on the wrong side of this washout at Rock Creek - note the culvert downstream.

Someone came by to do their laundry, a cement truck driver. The native couple that own the house do not live onsite, a nice elderly couple, he is disabled and apparently this provides them a source of income. The owners gave permission to the driver to do his laundry. He shared info as well, and between him and Dave, we had a clearer picture of what was going on. The Canadians are worse at updating their websites then the Federal government is.

Roberta came by and invited us to tour the town with her. We hopped in her beautiful Ford Raptor pick-up truck (apparently only 6 are imported in the Yukon). First thing we did was go check out the situation at the ferry dock. Not looking good at all!

Grounded ferry at Peel River

We stood on the north bank of the Peel River and watched trees and large debris float by. The ferry men sat with us - watching the debris drift downstream, get snagged on the cable lines of the ferry, hit the ferry. One ferry man says to us “Go to Inuvik.”

Ferry crew was amused and thought we should go back to Inuvik.

The ferry guys lived on the other side of the river. They could use a small boat to maneuver around the debris and get home. We were stuck. There was a single motorcycle rider stuck on the other side of the bank. We were better off than him. He could not go south because of the road washout, he could not go north, because of the ferry being out. We could at least go back to Inuvik. The ferry man took pity on the single motorcycle rider and moved him into his house out of the mosquitos. The ferry man laughed. He repeated to Roberta, go to Inuvik. Roberta agreed with us…. We did not dare lose what ground we had struggled to accomplish.

Ferry guys transportation home, Notice the size of the debris next to their boats...

The Peel River ferry has a cable that goes from bank to bank due to the swift current. When the water level got high they stopped the ferry. The water level overtook the cable. With all the debris coming down the river it snagged on the cable and caused a log jam in front of the ferry. The operators wanted to drop the cable, but management would not let them… the cable costs 10k. Now the cable is stuck and snagged and stretched. They will probably have to drop the cable.

Ferry guys

This means that they need to string a new cable across the river (we are really hoping they have that in stock), cut the old cable and free up the log jam. They also need to evaluate the ferry for damage.

We watched the guy jump to the boat from a bulldozer. We saw and learned everything we needed to know. It appears that the ferry crossing is going to be the bigger deal.

We drove around town. It took 10 minutes. Saw everything to see.. 2 grocery stores, 1 church. 1 hotel, 2 gas stations, and the tent factory.

The one restaurant in town

We went to the tent factory and watched them make tents.

Supervising the tent making in Fort McPherson

Specializing in large canvas outfitting, but also bags and small items if you ask.

The cement truck driver was doing laundry and asked if he could get us anything. We jokingly asked if he could get us Lead Dog Ale beer from the Yukon (sold in Inuvik). He made a call and the beer was on its way. He left with clean laundry and later returned with our beer a few hours later! Got to love truckers!

The motorcycles were parked out front. The village was coming by to meet us.  Village kids are riding their bikes over here to check out our motorcycles and read the stickers on the side of the cases. They all want to know where we have been. 

We both emailed our bosses and told them we have no idea when we will return to work. We sat around and chatted with Roberta and Art most of the evening, and watched a couple of videos. Only 2 of the videos worked. It took hours to watch the 3^rd video because it kept hitching. We had time.

The Pucker Factor

We woke up fairly early and got the bikes ready to roll. The plan was to make it to 230 miles to Eagle Plains early so we could get rest for the 260 mile ride back to Dawson the next day. We had heard the ferry across the McKenzie River had closed down the night before for high winds, so the first thing I did was check the website for updated conditions. According to Canadian Highway websites all ferries were operating. We blew out of town without coffee.

The road out of town

It was a cold morning, cold enough to pull out all the heated gear. The wind was pretty bad, and the gravel was the size of marbles. We hit a spot of sloppy mud where the bike zigged and zagged down the road… Michael has started ranking the spots by the “pucker factor.”

Gravel like marbles

We get to the McKenzie ferry crossing and all is shut down. Europeans are milling in frustration, some having spent the whole night waiting. We got there at 10 a.m. and it was looking like hours. The sky was looking ugly. We walked down to the ferry and spoke with the driver; he suggested we waited it out in the employee warming hut/house.  We thanked him for the hospitality and head up the hill.

The little house reminded me of a fire station, living quarters were upstairs and a small kitchen and living room downstairs.

We hung out for hours in the ferry station house

We met the ferry captain, a burly guy named Rick, that was sticking to his safety guns, even though the phone was ringing off the hook… people wanting to know when things would start up again. Rick’s standard answer “when the wind stops blowing.” Rick has been guiding ferries across Canada for 30 years.  The folks at the station made us feel welcome, a friendly lot of men that basically live up here in the far north 5 months a year away from their families. They work in shifts to cover the generous ferry hours, baking bread in the down time.

Rick worrying about the conditions on the river

We chatted about all things Canadian, including the recent train wreck which was taking all the airwaves on the telly. Rick would get up and look at the “windsock” answer the phone and laugh, even though you could tell he was worried about the conditions. We sat in the station until 6:30pm.

While sitting there waiting out the wind, it starts to snow.  The ferry captain... "Think of it as big wet cold rain"... In response to Michael’s “It isn't really snowing right... Tell me that I'm not really seeing snow.”

Ferry terminal "windsock"

Then, just like that, an announcement comes that an attempt is going to be made to cross the river. We are thinking more about being stuck there longer… then what the word “attempt” might mean, we jump to our bikes and load them on the ferry.  The winds were actually white capping the water. The boat had to be brought in backwards. This meant we had to turn our bikes around on the slippery metal deck covered in mud. That was fun. You know it must be something when the ferry drivers congratulate each other for making it across.

Traffic jam at the end of the road. Europeans traveling rentals.

We rode the distance to the Bed and Breakfast in Fort McPherson. While waiting in the station I called around, it turns out there is only one hotel in Fort McPherson, the Peel River Inn, and it was filled. There is only one B and B, and she has only two rooms. We got one of them.  We at least knew we had a place to stay for the night. We learned that a second washout has occurred at Sheep River, we have no idea how long we will be here. We also learned the second ferry was not operating, due to high water levels.The other room went to a fellow stranded traveler, Art. He is from Dawson.  He is a gold miner that pans for a living these days. We spent the night chatting about the business of dog mushing and gold panning.

Art, our new displaced traveling friend.. he belongs in Dawson

Michael, thrilled to be on the other side of the river

Me thrilled to be somewhere other than a ferry station