YATTA!!!!

There is little abillity to communicate through the B.C. and Yukon portions of the Alaska Highway, so two and a half days of posting are all being put up now.  Coincidentally, the portions with the most to write about have been the ones without an opportunity to post.

I spent a night at Edmonton where I had dinner at a truck stop.  There I met an oil rig worker.  His rig was being rellocated, so he had some down time.  If I'm not mistaken I believe he said he had been doing the work for 30 years.  Somehow the conversation led to him showing me a finger of his with half of the tip missing.  How anyone can speak of a missing extremity as if it's no big deal is beyond me.  Not only did it not seem to bother him, but he considered himself lucky that that was his only injury.  "I've seen people loose entire limbs, feet, and even their site.  I've been lucky." he explained.  Being ignorant to oil drilling I asked if it was anything like it's portrayed on T.V..  "I'm not sure how it is in the States, but none of that nonsense goes on up here.".  That put a big smile on my face.  Those reality drilling shows always seem to incorporate way too much drama.

Now a description of the Alaska Highway from northern B.C. throughout the Yukon is in order.  It is almost entirely two lanes.   There is only half a shoulder and even though it is mid April there is still ice and snow along it so pulling off the road is a risk.  Eight percent grades were not uncommon.  There were several 15kmph U-shaped turns.  Some portions of the road had sheer drops with no raillings.  Several times I had to come to a stop due to wildlife on the road.  During this time of year animals are migrating back and it is very common to have herds of elk and buffalo on the road.  These things and the fact that any snow that melted during the day would freeze at night kept me driving only during daylight.  Large towns are few and very far between so one must rely on the small towns and villages for fuel stops.  Unfortunatly some of these small gas stations close through the winter months.  At one point I went about 300km before seeing an open station.



In B.C. there was a time in the evening when fuel was getting tight.  I found a station which was in service but was closed for the day.  Rather than risk getting stuck at night half off the road I parked at the station and slept there until it opened the following morning. Temperatures dropped to -8 celcius that night.  Later in the evening I came partly out of my sleeping bag to grab some water and started shaking after a few seconds.  It is incredible how quickly that kind of cold takes effect.  Knowing that about two or three inches of insulation is the only thing keeping someone from hypothermia or worse is a little unnerving.  I performed every superstitious ritual I could think of and do within the confinies of my sleeping bag to keep myself from having to use the restroom that night.  What consequences would appear from having to expose those particular extremities are too terrible to think of.  It must have worked because I didn't have to go until the morning.  Many of the owners of these small businesses live on the property.  In this case there was a pick up truck next to a mobile home along side the station.  If things got bad I could always make a run for their home and ask to be let in for some warmth.

The next morning I fuelled up, checked all the fluids, inspected the tires and went on my way.  Later that day I stopped for gas again and wouldn't you know the owner of the white pick-up at the station I slept at pulls up.   He walks over and asks "Are you sleeping in that truck!?".  I said "Yep.".  "How do you keep warm?" he asked.  I replied with "Walk around the back and I'll show you.".  He seemed pretty impressed with the simplicity and effectiveness of the setup.  He asked the typical questions I've been getting most of the trip like "Where are you from?", "Where are you going?", and "What the hell are you going to do in Alaska!?".  After talking for a bit we parted ways and I continued on.

Immediately after the Kiskatinaw River there was a rest area with a nice view of the bridge.  A surrounding fence ruined the photo op, but there was a ledge one could walk onto so long as the warning sign was ignored.  Pictures didn't seem to really show the height of the ledge, but they do portray some of the beauty non the less.  To attempt to get a better shot of the bend in the river I drove out of the rest area into a little dirt road that ran along back.  It wasn't a much better shot after all, but I did make a gruesome discovery.  There was a pit with several corpses of game.  After some quick shots of that I took off.  Although it looks like they were cleaned out it's still a sad sight to see.  Sure their lives were not taken completely in vein, but is it really necessary to extinguish six lives?  I doubt whoever did that needed that much sustanance.  If these pictures disturb anyone, too bad.  It is documented because it was a reallity of the trip.

Between Watson Lake and Whitehorse I made another gas stop.  There I met an interesting aborriginal.  As has happened frequently throughout the trip, the bull horns inspired conversation.  He walked up and asked if they were real and where they were from.  The usual small talk led to asking him what he did.  He explained that the elders of the community gather every so often with the young.  During these gatherings the elders pass on history, tradition, and culture.  They do this in order to preserve their past.  We exchanged our stories, he what he was doing this week with the students and I my trip.  When he found out I was from Florida, he mentioned that he had been to Orlando and Kissimee.  Presumably this was to get together with other natives.  "I didn't like it." he said.  "Well," I said "it's not all bad there are some very nice things in Florida, but I'm tired of it as well.  That's partly why I'm here.".  "No, there is too much desperation." he replied.  It didn't really sink in until later but he is right.  It's funny how sometimes a simple comment that probably was nothing more than a casual opinion to him ends up meaning a lot.  There is in fact much desperation, but it is not unique to Florida.  Again I catalogue this as another negative attribute of living in a large city.  I'm guilty of it as well.  Right now I'm desperate for work so I can establish myself here.  But truely, what are the consequences to not finding work.  It will lead to a some hardship, but it's not the end of the world.  There are ways and programs in place to keep even those that are homeless and jobless safe.  We all tend to fret too much when we all know that the necessities to survive; shelter, food, and water, are given to us if they are needed as promised in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.  When it's looked at that way, what we distress over can usually be catagorized as something material and therefore trivial. Most of us are guilty of this at some point, some more frequently than others. While my thoughts were on the man's comment, another aboriginal came out of the hotel and smiled at the horns.  "I like those." he said.   The native I was talking to originally replied, "Yeah, we got a real wild man here.".  Maybe it's just me, but when an indigenous resident of the Yukon calls someone else a "wild man", I believe it should not be taken lightly.   We chatted some more and parted ways to continue the trip.
 
Not too many stops came after.  Just a few to take a picture of some nice scenery in both B.C. and the Yukon territory.

Once I reached the U.S. border entry with a firearm was as easy as advertised.  I claimed the firearm with customs and he asked if I had registered with Canada.  I said yes and gave him the paperwork for the rifle and my passport.  He looked it all over and said "Have a safe trip.'.  I never even got out of my car.  About an hour of driving later I saw my first wolf.  Unfortunately it ran off when I slowed down to try and take a picture.

If anyone ever gets in the mood for a long road trip I suggest taking the Alaska Highway starting in northern B.C. and throughout the Yukon.  Regardless of what happens here in Alaska, those two sections of road and the people along the way made the trip worth it.