For the petrol heads out there click here for pictures of what served as my home for much of the summer in Alaska & North West Canada and carried me approximately 16000 miles with a damage report that consisted of only two broken windshields, two broken antennas, a couple of snapped struts on the swing-out rear tire carrier and a few minor bumps underneath suffered in the “Maze” at Canyonlands, Utah. The vehicle is currently resting while being fitted with a new front bumper, winch, suspension mods, front and rear lockers and anything else that comes to mind before the next trip! Click Slee Offroad for more information on all the upgrades that have been made.

As I began the journey south the weather hadn’t improved. With the prolonged rain the road became more muddy by the hour and on the hilly sections it was noticeable that some vehicles were beginning to struggle. In particular one vehicle pulling a trailer was sliding all over the place on one downward section.

Once I had made the two ferry crossings things started to look up and the drizzle relented for some of the second half of the days drive although the low cloud meant poor visibility in the higher sections once again. I forgot to mention that I had spotted a bear on the drive up to Inuvik crossing the road but didn’t have an opportunity to take a picture. Today I was more fortunate. Not only did I see one but rather than run into the bushes he stayed in the open and I was able to photograph him. While doing so, a truck pulled past me and on noticing the fact I had my camera pointed out the window stopped as well. Strangely, the occupants not only stopped but decided to get out and take pictures as the bear crossed the road! As you can see, it looks like they had been hunting based on what is protruding from the back of their truck.

After watching the bear for an hour or two and taking the picture that heads this post, I continued on and with the weather appearing to clear still further, by the time I crossed the Arctic Circle the views were good and things were looking quite promising.

Not long after stopping at the Arctic Circle sign I arrived at Eagle Plains, my resting point for the night.

Today I made the long drive north on the Dempster Highway to Inuvik, once again crossing the Arctic Circle. Unfortunately the weather of yesterday continued and much of the journey was fraught with blanketing fog and drizzle. The road was muddy and slippery in certain sections, particularly where construction teams had been working, and I thought what a contrast this experience was becoming when compared with the conditions I had experienced on the Dalton. The redeeming feature of today was the sighting of numerous caribou framed by the gray skyline creating a mystical feeling in the dreary conditions.

Originally I had planned to camp somewhere north of Eagle Plains, where I stopped for fuel, but with the weather looking unlikely to abate I pressed on to Inuvik, crossing into Northwest Territories and making two “on demand” ferry crossings, the first being at the Peel River, close to Fort McPherson and the second at the confluence of the Mackenzie/Arctic Red Rivers next to the town of Tsiigehtchic (”mouth of the iron river”), a Gwichʼin community. During the winter, these ferries are replaced by ice bridges and it reminds me how locals say driving the Dempster is often easier in winter because the ice packed road is more forgiving than the muddy or dusty summer conditions, all of course assuming you have the correct tires. Further more, in winter you can travel beyond Inuvik to the Arctic Ocean on the ice road across the delta.

The first picture below is from the Peel River ferry crossing and the second is from the approach to the ferry at the Mackenzie/Arctic Red rivers confluence. The white church is in Tsiigehtchic which lies between the two rivers just before they merge.

Although I was well north of the Arctic Circle, it struck me how lush the vegetation was compared with the tundra at the same latitude on the Dalton. There were even trees! I later discovered that this is due to the Mackenzie river delta, the relatively warm waters of which keep the permafrost at bay allowing for more top soil in which life is able to flourish.

The weather of the last 24 hours has consisted fog and virtually non-stop drizzle making me appreciate the fact it has been pretty favorable for most of my trip. Leaving Tok I headed NE on the Alaska Highway until I reached the turnoff for Chicken and the Top of the World Highway.

Not long after the pavement ended I pulled into Chicken, a town that has a population of 6 during the winter according to the Milepost! Swelling to a party sized 21 during the summer, I asked the person serving me tea in one of the three trading posts if she was one of the six. The reply was “no” but was informed that the woman in the Post Office was one of the year rounders.

Leaving Chicken I continued to the turnoff for Eagle which was about 65 miles due north and situated on the Yukon River. Milepost recommended visiting Eagle so I meandered along the dirt road for a couple of hours until I reached the small town stopping at the one cafe there for lunch. A tour bus was just leaving, I suspect to drop people off at the boat that transports tourists to and from Dawson City. The cafe was akin to a roadside “greasy spoons” in England and it struck me as strange that there appeared to be no desire in the one eatery in town for some quality food! Perhaps it is lack of competition, few visitors and a short season, I’m not sure. I suppose that as with most frontier towns, most food arrives by way of the distribution system rather than relying on a locally cultivated cuisine. May be I just missed the more exquisite menu items.

Passing through Canadian Customs on the Top of the World highway fog engulfed the vista. I asked the officer about the view and she said it is usually spectacular and maybe if I waited for a few hours I would see it. She then said it had been like this all day. Despite my suspicion that it would be in vain, I pulled over a few hundred yards on and waited.

A couple of hours later and my skepticism was born out. As I began descending toward Dawson City the cloud cleared and I at least got some idea of the views I had missed at the top. Once at the Yukon River I drove on to the ferry that still makes the Alaska Highway the only true overland route between Canada and Alaska and entered Dawson City where I would spend the night before beginning the Dempster Highway in the morning.

Today I leave Anchorage behind and begin the journey south back to the lower 48. With that being said, I will be first traveling north in order to tackle the Dempster Highway and cross the Arctic Circle one more time.

After breakfast I had a new windshield fitted, bought food provisions and sought out a tire shop to have my tires rotated and wheels balanced. With clear glass in front of me I left Anchorage stopping in Palmer to visit Bob & Rhonda who I met during my time at McNeil. A few hours later I set off for Tok, about a five hour drive.

Looking back toward Denali National Park from Stampede Road.

Sitting in Henry’s Restaurant in the center of Kodiak I noticed that many people were playing the lottery and other gambling games. It appeared to be traditional to drop the used tickets on the floor and in some places it was as if there had been a ticker tape parade. It was about 5.00PM (on a Wednesday) and the place had more people than you might expect for this time of day and they weren’t all tourists/visitors like myself waiting for the ferry. I don’t necessarily think it is strange here because Kodiak is a working fishing town and fishermen rise early in the morning so presumably go to bed early. However, it reminds me of an issue concerning the subsistence fishermen of remote Alaskan villages. I have heard from people I talked with and also read that alcohol and substance abuse is a problem in native communities across Alaska and Canada as people transition from subsistence living to what we might consider ‘conventional living’. Often associated with a transition to ‘our way of life’ it is worth mentioning that these excesses are in fact a component of ‘our way of life’ and the indulgences are not exclusive to a particular group. Even though statistics might suggest otherwise they often offer no direct or provable correlation to actual causality thereby distorting or even completely masking the most relevant information. Problems experienced in our inner cities and elsewhere don’t seem a whole lot different to me and although alcohol highlights or exacerbates many of the symptoms, it in and of itself is not the root cause of the problem as we might do well to remind ourselves.

Clearly the native groups stand out because many are in a difficult transition often forced upon them for various reasons some more unpleasant than others. It is one thing for a population to slowly transition to a new way of life over a number of generations but what if it happens almost overnight? For example, as recently as the 1960’s, under the guise of a government assimilation policy, families were torn apart in Canada and children forced to attend residential schools in an attempt to wipe out the culture, language and traditions of native populations. (something for which the Canadian government formerly apologized just recently) Imagine having to change the way you live, eat and work over a single generation. The health challenges alone caused by dietary shifts are apparently noted by the medical profession in Alaska as this change takes place. Interestingly Weston Price wrote extensively on the subject of dietary changes as people moved away from their ancestral homes as early as the 1930’s. Read his ‘Nutrition and Physical Degeneration‘ for more information. The trauma caused by a significant change in the way a person lives not to mention the extra time people sometimes gain as a result of shorter working hours and modern creature comforts understandably can lead to problems. I have to wonder if the underlying cause of the symptoms experienced by communities where such changes unfold is simply related to the sense of loss of what was once a clearly defined purpose in life? What could be clearer or more meaningful than being the provider of food directly to your community? It is said that a life of service is a happy one, something we generally associate with the caring professions. It seems to me that the work of those in subsistence roles such as the Alaskan Native fishermen is the ultimate definition of a ‘life of service’ to a community. And what do you replace that with when it is lost, particularly when forced by another people’s agenda? I assume that many Alaskan Natives today have no such direct responsibility as providers to their communities? Those able to remain in the fishing industry or even be involved with modern sustenance hunting might have some connection to a well understood role but fishing for a company that ships the catch to people you don’t know in a far off place is not quite the same as delivering the nights catch to your neighbors and I am certain that taking a tourist on a trophy hunt isn’t the same as hunting in order to ensure the survival of your family. The loss of control, responsibility and fulfillment presumably can have far reaching psychological implications. And what of those forced into the service jobs of modern communities such as working in fast food restaurants? I challenge anyone to explain to someone who has made such a transition how his/her life purpose is still as important. Logically it can be argued in the context of a wider community but I for the life of me couldn’t look an Alaskan Native who has lost his way of life in the eye and give him/her an acceptable answer. Is it no wonder some of those in such situations seek escape through various substances as they transition to ‘our way of life’?

After doing a google search, I found this comprehensive report that provides even more background and also recommendations for dealing with some of the questions I was pondering at Henry’s Restaurant if you are interested.

Driving north on Pasagshak Road I found a spot to show just how green this island is explaining why it is known as Alaska’s emerald isle. Given the obvious implication of it’s green abundance, I have been lucky I think because it has barely rained since I arrived.

I read today that the average temperature in July on Kodiak Island is 54F. In January though it is a mild 10-35F when compared with the Alaskan mainland. Fairbanks, in the interior, ranges from -60F in winter to 80F in summer. Quite a difference! This means that Kodiak might be considered a year round place to visit in Alaskan terms due to its narrow temperature band though you can expect a lot of rain especially in the fall months.

After spending the afternoon by the beach at Twin Lakes on the southern end of Pasagshak Road I found a cove a little further back along the road to spend the night. I could see whales spouting offshore and the occasional fishing boat. It seemed strange to have cell phone reception there because it felt so remote compared to other places I had camped. That said, there is actually a commercial aerospace launch pad near the end of Pasagshak Road!