
It’s National Bison Day in the U.S., and the shaggy beasts are worthy of celebration, but they don’t like hugs. I’m talking to you Yellowstone Visitors…


It’s National Bison Day in the U.S., and the shaggy beasts are worthy of celebration, but they don’t like hugs. I’m talking to you Yellowstone Visitors…


A severe washout has taken out both lanes of the Alaska Highway in British Columbia, just short of the border with the Yukon Territory. The location of the closure is between Liard Hot Springs and Watson Lake. Judging by the size of the ditch, repairs may take a while. No immediate detour is available.

Travelers will have to make a route change early if they want to continue on to Watson Lake and/or Alaska, or do some serious back-tracking. The alternative is the very scenic Stewart-Cassiar Highway, also known as Highway 37. It’s a beautiful route, but more remote. I recommend bringing extra gas.

I have driven the Alaska Highway at least a dozen times now, and even today, one asks a similar question.
Much of it is paved now, but anyone who says the entire road is pavement is lying. Entire sections remain gravel, whether due to nostalgia, construction or sadism.
But, in all honesty, I sincerely hope it remains that way.

The anniversary of the first truck to travel the Alaska Highway was on Saturday, 20 November. The truck was the first to drive from Dawson to Whitehorse, and then from Whitehorse to Fairbanks. In 1942, that must have been one chilly ride.

In 1948, The Alaska Highway Guide was published, which listed the scant accommodations and services along the route. The Milepost, which today is the bible of Al-Can travel, would be published for the first time in 1949.
October is American Archives Month:

The building of the Alaska Highway. Even in October, the load of dirt has frozen to the bed of the dump truck.
Photo is from the National Archives

Driving out to the border, the wildlife viewing was excellent as usual. I spotted several moose, flocks of grouse, and quite a few caribou. I stopped for these three caribou to cross in front of me, and watched them make their way down the roadway slope to a frozen creek below.

One solo caribou earlier in the day, had a harder time of it. The snow was over belly deep, and I watched the animal from a long distance, as it determinably struggled to reach the road. Once it did, it saw me coming, and I could feel its deflation, and hear its sigh of disgust.
The caribou went across the road, considered hopping into the snow there, but then turned to clop down the frozen pavement. I slowed down to a crawl, but still caught up with it. The caribou looked me over as I came to a stop, then resigned to its fate, it crossed back to the side of the road it came from, and went back into the snow. This caribou was stressed enough, so I didn’t take its picture, I just drove on, with the caribou buried well past its haunches in powder.
In my rear view mirror, I could see another truck coming up, and so did the caribou. I think it planned on coming back out onto the road once I left, but now it snowplowed its way back to the treeline where it came from when I first saw it.
No doubt, there are too many people in Alaska for that caribou’s liking. Can’t say that I entirely blame it either.