Have you ever noticed that when people describe the same events that they experience that it sound so different? This has been our experience with their descriptions of the Alaska Highway and the Top of the World Highway. We heard from various folk the highway, although paved, was rough; others spoke of the potholes, others spoke of the narrow and harrowing times on the Top of the World Highway. I will add to this descriptive menagery.
What first comes to mind is that the highways are LONG. The size of British Columbia, the Yukon and Alaska are not, in my opinion (and experience) accurately displayed on the maps we have. To see our odometer report over 800 miles since Whitehorse, Yukon gives you some idea of the expanses up here in the North Country. No only felt on our road-weary bodies, but also our credit cards, the roads are expansive, long and often-times lonely, only accompanied by other occasional truck and RV drivers and a few bears or other wilderness animals. If you want open expanse, come to these areas, particularly the Yukon. If you had concern about the health of the world's forests, be no longer concerned! We witnessed first hand hundreds and hundreds of miles of lush forests, seemingly untouched by humanity. Roads of any kind, improved or unimproved, are rare in these parts, so to imagine what lay just beyond one's view is to experience wilderness without the risk or hassle. The ribbon of civilization called highways is our safety link to civilization altering perspective a person may have concerning the urge to get out in the wild outdoors. We welcomed the little spots of civilization, the gas stations, the rare signage of the "world famous" cinnamon rolls or hot coffee. And yet, when we stopped as road-weary travelers, we experience for a brief time other people's normal world, their center of the universe, their norm. They were raising families, eking out a living and experiencing simple joys.
Colorado feels very much South up here. When we initially entered Canada, using the central route through British Columbia, we felt north, only to be surprised by the lush valleys, commerce and orchards and LARGE LONG lakes, deep lakes left from the action of mile high glaciers. As we moved north, two weeks in BC alone, so did the blooming flowers. We could almost imagine that the flowers were blooming just ahead of our truck as we drove over the hill or turned a corner. Those flowers most enjoyed the immediate roadside, open to the sun and soaking up the runoff of the road; colors of purple, yellow, blue and white spreading out before us through countless miles hour after hour. I thought often seeing this sight, that it sure beats working in downtown Denver with its man-planted flower pots dotting the 16th Street Mall. The greatest tempor to our experience of openness and expansive beauty was the cost of gasoline, influenced by that same remoteness and rarity; $1.64 per liter, 3.8 liters per gallon = $6.23/gallon. Our truck gets about 8 miles per gallon pulling our home, which means the cost to travel a mile in the upper yukon was 78 cents per mile! We have had to just accept this cost as the price of the experience. Anyway you skin this trip, either by air and car rental, RV and car, car and bed 'n breakfast, truck and trailer, or guide tours - it is a costly affair, perhaps once in a lifetime.
One of our highlights in this costly affair was a stop at some hot springs associated with one of the BC Territory parks. After we set up in one of the most wooded campgrounds we had experienced to that point, a thousand meter walk from our door landed us in a natural setting in its own microcosm of cool tropic ferns and flowers due to the geothermal heat of the water. Louise and I enjoyed the evening's soak amongst newly discovered friends doing the same thing after a long day on the road.
I will briefly say that we liked Whitehorse, the principal city of Yukon Territory. There were many things to see from museums to short road excursions and, of course, the ever-present Walmart! This was a real community, an outpost of civilization in SW Yukon, an oasis of shopping. I think I share in a previous Log, our one day trip to Skagway and our boat ride to Juneau and back. An 18 hour day and one of our best. Since we realized that this trip would likely not be repeated we decided to get off the Alaskan Highway and take the loop to Dawson City and the Top of the World Highway.
Dawson City, truly on the edge of wilderness. Yes, a rich mining history, interesting buildings from the late 1800s and early 1900s, but most tourist attractions cost more than we were prepared to pay. We camped outside of Dawson City on this past Saturday evening and experienced mosquito in numbers and appetite beyond what we knew from previous stops. We got up early and set out to explore the town and visit a church of the Lord's chosing. We stopped at a Catholic Church, one of two of the oldest in town. During its heyday Dawson City had over 30,000 people living in and around the town. Church were built to accommodate hundred of parishoners, this church building was no exception although smaller than an abandoned Presbyterian church which could seat 600. The priest, a man in his 30s was an African from Nigeria, experiencing his second year in Dawson City. He was clearly dedicated to his "Mission" work, challenged by the season where his congregation needed to make hay when the sun was shining. Tourism is everything in Dawson City in the summer. There were 38 of us, including the long hairs and long bearded organist, with close to 35 of us visiting! The Catholic Church service is very similar to the Anglican service, congregationally participatory in its reading of scriptures. The first thing the priest needed to do in the service was ask for volunteers for the various readings; the service then commenced. At the end of the service he asked us all to introduce ourselves, which we did. Then, in true remote fashion, the priest asked if anyone was going to Whitehorse the next day, trying to hitch a ride to pick up his truck that was at a shop getting fixed. We saw no mechanic's shop in Dawson. Louise saw him walking in town later in the day and he declared he was not successful with his request, yet. She said we would have offered, but we were heading the opposite direction having just experienced that highway the day before. My own personal observation: This man, from a different culture and climate, isolated as he was, truly felt privileged to serve this parish and seemed to be very connected to Jesus Christ in faith. When we were leaving the service I felt compelled to thank him for his dedication to the Gospel, the Good News of Christ saving work on Cross. He seemed truly appreciative of the comment. God bless his work, small on numbers, large in faith.
Top of the World Highway (my last part of this Log today). We decided to leave Dawson City under cover of night. Not. No night hear this time of year. But we did set out on this Father's day first crossing the Yukon on a small open topped ferry. The ferry, run by the town of Dawson Creek linked the town to the road eventually linking back to the Alaskan Highway and the town of Tok. It got its name because the highway for a hundred miles mostly is built on the top of the mountains, unlikely most roads which go through valleys and ravines. We enjoyed vista views that evening at almost 360 degree views. We found a wide spot in the road (mostly graveled with an occasional respite of pavement from years gone by). It was a remote and open location, shared by one other RV that came upon our spot 15 minutes later. It rained all night and I was concerned what lay ahead for that day, desirous of the following day when we could look back on the experience. That next morning I had a real bad choice to make, either to go forward or go back the way we had come. Fortunately, there was a road crew that briefly stopped at our spot and I asked the lady what might lay ahead. She said it would be muddy in spots but that if we took our time we should get through. Ignoring what the fellow RVer had to say (he had come from that direction in his motorhome pulling a car), with a concerted pray together, we forged forward. It was an exhausting day of travel, sometimes going only 15 mph, the road seemingly never ending. It sprinkled most of the morning. We stopped in Chicken, AK, having crossed the border successfully a few miles up the road, to be relieved by the sight of our first long stretch of pavement. Our truck was 2/3 of the way up caked with Yukon mud. The running board was an inch deep in spots. We made it, WE SURVIVED THE TOP OF THE WORLD HIGHWAY! In Tok, Louise bought a bumper sticker with the same statement. This is a road I care not to experience again unless I was not pulling anything behind me.
That is all for now. I hope you enjoyed the read at least as much as I enjoyed recording the experience the three of us had, as I travel with Louise and Floyd. -Kevin
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