North to Alaska - The Ultimate Road Trip

Driving by car to Alaska had been a personal dream since my childhood. In the summer of 1986, circumstances permitted me to take this trip. Living mostly out of the back of a pickup truck with occasional nights at motels, we spent an incredible 56 days on the road, a tour de force of the American - and Canadian - West.

This series will present my journal of that trip in one week increments as shown on the map at left. Many of the places visited will have their own pages with more information and photos. For example, visit our pages on the Gates of the Artic and Denali National Park.

Weeks 4-5: From the Yukon to the Arctic

July 21, 1986. We cross the Yukon River in midafternoon, leaving behind Canada and entering Alaska for the first time. The ferry was tiny and the river enormous; it did not really inspire a lot of confidence. U.S. Customs was pretty relaxed at this remote outpost.

The rough dirt road (the Taylor Highway) climbed sharply from the river onto a beautiful high plateau. The scenic tundra was spotted everywhere with wildflowers. As the road came off the plateau it degenerated into a spectacular quagmire of potholes and mud. At one point the road was being mined for gold! Apparently, a local custom.

We return to the paved Alaska Highway at the town of Tok late in the day. Here we stayed at the Tok KOA, part of a pretty elaborate facility which included a motel, restaurant, full service campground, and stores.

For dinner, we experienced an Alaska phenomenon known as a "salmon bake". Every Alaskan city and town has a summer salmon bake celebrating their bounty of that great fish. They invariably cook out in half-drums with grills and seat everyone at picnic tables. Each has their own variation of the "secret" sauce and each claims to have the best recipe. Every one we tried was delicious.

July 22, 1986. A sleep-in and cleanup day. We drive a short distance to the campground at Harding Lake, then try a little fishing and relax the rest of the day.

July 23, 1986. Drove the remaining miles to Fairbanks and camped at nearby Chena Lake. The lake was stocked full of jumping rainbow trout, peppy fish that just didn't want to be caught. We became absorbed in trying to catch a few, and suddenly it's one o'clock in the morning! When it doesn't get dark, it's easy to lose track of the time!

The fourth week was a lazy time for us. After weeks on the road and nonstop touring, it was just time for a rest. Mostly this meant taking a break from driving.

July 24, 1986. Another day, another campground. This time at the Chatonika River which supposedly had running salmon. Plenty of fishermen, but no fish.

July 25, 1986. We finally head into Fairbanks to make preparations for our Arctic backpack. We visited the National Park Service office where we bought maps and got a stern lecture about being self-sufficient; that if we got into trouble, no one was going to come help us. We treat ourselves to a room at the Klondike Inn, an old motel but with kitchenettes.

Dinner at the lucious Fairbanks salmon bake also featured halibut and reindeer sausages, all you can eat.

July 26, 1986. The bad weather returns. It's bitter and rainy all day long. We hole up at the Klondike Inn and stay dry.

July 27, 1986. Finally, a nice day. We commence our trip to the Arctic on the Dalton Highway (actually a rocky, dusty dirt road), the road to Prudhoe Bay. There is a lot of dusty truck traffic but very little tourist traffic.

A memorable experience took place at the Big Jim River, one of the many streams which cross and/or parallel the road. With few tourists, these streams are rarely fished and are therefore full of unsuspecting fish, specifically Arctic Grayling. While Gerry starts fishing, I head into the woods with a bucket. It takes about twenty minutes to fill the bucket with huge, ripe blueberries. In the same twenty minutes, Gerry has caught six plump grayling for dinner. Preparing dinner entirely "off the land" is an Alaska experience!

July 28, 1986. We reached the starting point for the hike at midday. According to the map, the Diedritch River braids into channels just west of the road. We must ford this river to reach our goal, Gates of the Arctic National Park. The weather is starting to look bad again so we pull back to the rest area (photo, above left) at the Koyukuk River. Another blueberry gorge for dinner.

July 29, 1986. The weather looked a little more promising so we decide to go through with the backpack. My map reading was correct. The channels of the Diedritch River were no more than thigh deep, and we succeeded in crossing the river and reaching the national park. For more details, read our feature, Gates of the Arctic, Budget Expedition.

July 30, 1986. It rained hard all night, and the new day was drizzly, cold, and raw. We decide to end the hike and return to the car. Crossing the Diedritch River this time was a horror. The water level was higher from the rain, and it was extremely cold. We do make it and start the long drive back. Another blueberry feast for dinner.

July 31, 1986. It's a good thing we ended the hike; it rained buckets again all night. The ride ride back to Fairbanks turned into a slippery, muddy nightmare. We succeeded in destroying a new off-road tire on a rock. This led to an interesting lesson in Arctic supply and demand. The Yukon River roadhouse charged us as much as the price of a new off-road tire for a beat up, half-bald, wrong-sized spare. The 200 miles back to Fairbanks took eight hours to drive. Fairbanks was muddy and flooded. Our truck was completely encased in mud. A very rough experience which ends back at the Klondike Inn.