The Alaska Highway is closed due to a washout. I was given no info on time or severity. My only instructions were: “Enjoy Whitehorse.”
Monthly Archives: May 2013
Pink Mountain, BC to Watson Lake, YT
Another long and interesting day on the road. I had to open the heater valve at Toad River, due to the snow that was pelting me as I filled up the tank. Luckily, the whiteout left just as quickly as it arrived.
I was happy to hit the Yukon, although it was trying at times to get there. On the plus side, we had a cornucopia of wildlife for our viewing pleasure. Another four black bear, countless caribou and big horn sheep, several moose and over a hundred bison.
There was one hill that looked like a bison nursery, with calves sprawled out in the grass among their mothers. There were also a couple of lone bulls that just looked ornery, and damn are they big when you’re sitting eye-level to them in an aluminum box. One simply stood in the middle of the road daring me to come a little closer. I chose to wait until it crossed over to the shoulder. I’m guessing a bull bison can outdo The Rover in a 0-60, although I was holding out hope that the bull was more of a mudder than a hard track runner.
I had to weave through sheep and caribou several times, but neither one of them could smash their head through the door quite like a bull bison.
Williams Lake to Pink Mountain, BC
13 May 2013
What a beautiful day to be in British Columbia. Warm enough to have the window & vents open and cool enough for The Rover to purr along contentedly with no jump in the temp gauge in spite of all the major climbs. And we had a couple of those today.
We followed alongside the Fraser again this morning. Crossing it, as well as the Quesnel, Salmon, Crooked, Parsnip, Pine, and Peace Rivers.
The Bears Are Out:
I spotted three black bears today. One, I should have taken a picture. He was close to the road with the mountains and a frozen lake as a backdrop. Unfortunately, I was going downhill at the time, and had little interest in stopping & backtracking. A very cool sight regardless.
I decided to take BC Hwy 29 to avoid going east into Dawson Creek and Ft St John. 29 is a beautiful road, but it has some serious inclines.
Was stopped by an expat Brit in Hudson’s Hope when I filled up. He was driving a Disco, and would still be chatting with me if I hadn’t said I really had to get going if I was to get on the Al-Can tonight.
Then on top of a summit, when someone in Minnesota was calling The Rover a “lemon”, I stopped for a couple of photos. A young couple promptly swung into the rest area to say how much they liked the truck. We talked for a while, when once again, I had to excuse myself in order to gain some miles.
A side note: I was amazed by the feeling when I actually turned onto the Alaska Highway. As odd as it sounds, with all the twisting, turning, climbing and miles left to do, it was like I was finally on the final road to home. Currently, I believe I’m only 1300 miles away.
Piece of cake, eh?
Tacoma, WA to Williams Lake, BC
Tacoma, WA to Williams Lake, BC
It was a long day. 400 miles with a border crossing makes it a full day as well.
Traffic up I-5 wasn’t terrible, so my plan to travel past Seattle on a Sunday morning worked rather well. I did stop just before the portal to fill up the tank, buy a new map of BC and splurged on a new Milepost as well, then picked up a gallon of gear lube because the t-case is leaking again. The guys in the OReilly’s loved the truck and were still talking about the film, “The Gods Must Be Crazy” when I walked out the door.
Taking WA Hwy 539 across into Canada was also a breeze. I pulled right up to the booth, answered the usual questions… although “When was the last time you were in Canada?” was new. Then I was off and running.
British Columbia holds some beautiful country within its borders. I had forgotten how much one climbs when you approach the Al-Can from this far west. I had also forgotten what a beast the Fraser River is. Damn, that’s a lot of water flowing between its banks.
I saw 25-30 deer today and one harem of big horn sheep. I also saw two “Badger Crossing” signs, which is a first for me. I wouldn’t expect a badger to cross such a specific section of highway, but I guess they do. As much as I would have loved to see a badger, it’s probably for the best that I didn’t. I may not be able to resist the urge to run over Bucky.
Most of the provincial parks have their campsites closed until May 15. I had planned on camping at the Stampede campgrounds in williams lake, but after driving through the grounds, I simply could not do it. They were awful! I did see a father & son from Alaska who waved me down, but I could not be swayed to camp there. Gambling that I’d find something else, I drove north again. Maybe 30 miles further on, I saw a campground sign at a general store/gas station. Turning around, I went inside to inquire. After getting a short tour, the man looked over my rig and said it would be $10. So I’m camped down by the creek and I’m the only soul on the end of the grounds. Somewhere off at the other end are a couple of other Alaskans, but I haven’t seen or heard them.
It’s a kickass site, and well worth the extra miles to get here. Plus their gas price is lower than most.
Frack it’s hot
A break from the normal broadcast.
95 degrees here near Yakima. With the rolling hills and crosswind, The Rover is running hot.
Hot. Hot. Hot.
Plus my feet are running hot, so I swung into a Subway to drink ice tea refills and upload blog posts while the Turner cools down enough to check the radiator.
Afterall, the Cascades are looming across my horizon. At least the summit is reporting 66 degs.
Who would have thought Washington would be the warmest state of this trek?
The truck had no trouble at all with Lolo Pass, but it was in the 70’s. That was one beautiful drive. I’m ready to turn around and go back.
Lolo Pass
10 May 2013
I think I could just drive and drive and drive, checking out all that the American West has to offer. I never tire of the exploration out here.
A beautiful drive through the Helena Natl Forest. I’m thoroughly enjoying US Route 12. Today was my first visit to Helena. In all my visits to Montana I had never been to its capital. You have to love a city that calls one of the main drags: Last Chance Gulch. Not to mention, N Last Chance Gulch.
Did a quick pit stop in Missoula, before driving south to Lolo. I just love this part of the state, and the land along Lolo Creek looked like a great place for a cabin. The creek was high though, and I saw a couple of newly installed tubular levies put up to keep the rising water from homes.
Lolo Pass is a phenomenal drive, even in the lumbering Rover. I kept stopping at all the historical markers, which there are many, simply because I knew most would be about Lewis & Clark.
Coming around a sharp curve, I found a new Fiat 500 broadside to my grill. The 500 driver must have been “testing” the Fiats handling, as he swept his way around the curve and sideways into my lane and The Rover. I braked, but there wasn’t anywhere else to go, so I watched uneasily as the Fiat smoothly righted itself and zoomed off with only inches to spare.
It’s hard to be angry when you’re envious.
On the Montana side of the Forest, all access was still “Closed for the Season”, but Idaho wasn’t as soft. Maybe it was all for the best, because I’m camped at the best site I’ve had so far on this trip. The Lochsa River is roaring right behind my camp. In fact, I’m writing this now as I sit in my campchair on its bank.
We had rain & hail earlier as I grilled dinner. The sky has since cleared, and a thick mist has formed over the torrent of the Lochsa.
I think I’m going to sleep very well tonight.
Deadman’s Basin
9 May 2013
The last time I camped here, the weather was just as nice as it is tonight. I went to bed, leaving the stove and other things out, to be put away in the morning. I was awaken by the tent wall slamming into me from the high winds and when I crawled out from the tent, everything was covered in 6″ of snow. By the time i broke camp, I was soaking wet and ate a bagel for breakfast that had been thawed over the defroster.
Luckily, not everything repeats itself. A beautiful night camped here along the shoreline. I even had a campfire tonight after grilling up some more venison.
The Basin lies across Hwy 12 from the Musselshell. It’s incredibly quiet out here tonight, with only the sound of the waves hitting shore and the pine crackling in the firepit.
Hugh Glass
6 May 2013
Just a short ways from where I was camped south of Lemmon, SoDak was the Hugh Glass Monument. Even in this day & age, the plaque sits in the middle of nowhere, overlooking the Shadehill reservoir, which was once the Grand River.
Back in August of 1823, Glass was out hunting for the Ashley Fur Party, when he came across a mother grizzly and her cubs. The grizzly charged so quickly that Glass could not get off a shot, although he did repeatedly stab the bear with his hunting knife.
Badly mauled by the bear, Glass was left behind with two men who were to bury him once he died. The two men were Fitzgerald and a young Jim Bridger. Unfortunately for Glass, Bridger & Fitzgerald packed up all their arms & gear and set off leaving Glass alone & unarmed in Indian territory.
Hugh Glass regained consciousness and dragged himself along, traveling mostly at night to avoid hostile Indians. Eventually, it is believed he made it to the Cheyenne River, where he fashioned a raft and floated downstream to Ft Kiowa. Glass traveled 190 miles, as the crow flies, from where he was mauled by the bear to the fort.
In the end, Glass did retrieve his rifle from Fitzgerald, although he claimed he didn’t kill the man because Fitzgerald was now a member of the US Army and that would have been a capital crime.
Aricara Indians killed Glass on the ice of the Yellowstone River during the winter of 1832-33.
I can’t help but wonder when was the last sighting of a grizzly in South Dakota? Personally, I don’t think SoDak is better off with the loss of the big bruins.
Pointless Departure
It was an uneventful drive across SoDak after leaving Minnesota today. In fact, I think we shared the road with more pheasants than automobiles. At one point, I started to aim for tumbleweeds as they crossed U.S. Route 12, just for something to break up the monotony.
As I cooked up some venison brats on the grill tonight, I had the sound of pheasants squawking in the fields surrounding me. I did enjoy seeing pheasants again. In fact, I found myself wanting to shout “Hen” everytime The Rover flushed a female.
I also heard that Fairbanks is suppose to get more snow next week. That’s just wrong.
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