Dawson Creek, British Columbia

Dawson Creek, British Columbia, marks the beginning of the Alaska Highway. We had already traveled 1,156 miles just to get here; 879 miles since leaving Seattle.

We spent the previous night at a pullout just south of Dawson Creek. I had hoped to make it all the way to Dawson Creek but the previous day had proven to be long and stressful. It started raining in the morning. At first it was a light rain but before long the windshield wipers were set as high as they would go. When we arrived at Prince George, 453 miles later, it was still pouring rain – and it was starting to get dark. Dawson Creek was another 252 miles away.

A great deal of the highway between Prince George and Dawson Creek is curvy and slow. On a clear day it is probably a beautiful drive but by the time we arrived at this stretch of road it was completely dark and the heavy rain had given way to dense fog. At one point the fog was so thick I could not tell what was in front of me; I would have gladly pulled over if I could have been certain I was not driving off an embankment into a river. I continued on, sometimes driving no faster than 5 MPH.

An hour later – it seemed longer at the time – the fog began to lift enough that I could see the road ahead of me. The worst was over – or so I thought until an adolescent deer bounded out of the woods and in front of our rig. If the pavement had been dry this story might have had a happy ending; unfortunately, nothing was dry. The deer’s legs slid right out from under him in front of our oncoming vehicle. I slammed on the brakes knowing full well that impact was inevitable. Even traveling at 30 MPH, one cannot stop a 13,000 pound truck and camper on a dime.

Lewis and Darla had both fallen asleep but immediately awoke to witness the young deer disappearing beneath the truck with a loud thud. Lewis may have had the best view of all. His car seat was positioned in the middle of the back seat for a commanding view of the action. “Are we going to die?” he asked in a concerned voice.

“No,” I assured him, “We are not going to die.”

“Did the deer die?”

“I’m pretty sure the deer is dead.”

“So, it might not be dead?” Lewis asked hopefully.

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s dead.”

“But you said, ‘pretty sure,’ Dad…”

“The deer is dead, Lewis.”

The Boy blinked back tears at the thought that we’d killed the deer or, more specifically, that I had killed the deer. I was more concerned about the truck. I could not imagine coming all this way and not even making it to Mile 0 of the Alaska Highway. I retrieved a flashlight from one of the exterior compartments and undertook a quick inspection: no evidence of damage at all. None. I couldn’t believe it. The only sign of deer was hair on the bumper. Not even a cracked fog light. The Lord was watching over us.

”Does that mean that maybe the deer didn’t die?” Lewis asked again upon hearing my good report.

”The deer is dead, Little Man. Sorry.” We’ve never believed in lying to The Boy about things like this.

We continued on toward Dawson Creek, all wide awake. The Boy was sitting straight up in his car seat keeping a careful watch on the road ahead. There was no chance he would be going to sleep again before we’d pulled over for the night and he could be certain that neither he nor any other deer were going to meet their end. We were about a half hour outside Dawson Creek when we decided we’d had enough and stopped for the night at a roadside rest area.

Dawson Creek has a great little museum that documents, among other things, the construction of the Alaska Highway. We didn’t get to see it. We took a few minutes to drive through town to get a sense of it but had no time to stop for anything but a few images at the “Mile 0” markers – there are two of them – and to get gas. We were already behind schedule.

Opinions vary on the value of having a set itinerary when making this trip. Many advocate making no reservations and having no set plan at all, instead making things up as one goes along. This would be a great approach for folks who either have no time constraints or who have made the journey before. In our case, having never seen any of it, we thought it important to plan things out at least to the extent that we would know we wouldn’t run out of time before we’d seen the things that were highest on our list of priorities.

The Alaska Hotel sits a block away from the second “Mile 0” marker in Dawson Creek. We stopped for a quick snap before leaving town, now fully and officially on our way to Alaska!

Our plan for today was to make it to Liard Hot Springs, 472 miles away. There, at the campground next to the hot springs, we would meet up with my parents. They had been here a day earlier.

The Alaska Highway

Even before I knew I would be traveling to Alaska, I remember talking to a friend and fellow traveler who had never been there. He remarked that he had little desire to drive to a place where one could spend a whole month and never see the sun. I can still recall the image this conjured up in my mind: a month of driving through mist and fog. Only a few days into our journey, I already realized that I had been completely wrong. I should have been picturing day after day of intense, extended downpours. A month of this would not be good.

The sign reads, “Caution: Buffalo On Road.” Fortunately for us, the buffalo were only next to the road this evening. Otherwise, Lewis might have yet another story to tell – one in which the truck doesn’t fare as well.

I love this image because it so accurately depicts the beauty and the intimacy of the narrow ribbon of asphalt known as the Alaska Highway as it winds through so much unspoiled wilderness. To provide some measure of safety for drivers, a wide swath of trees has been cleared on each side of the highway. This is where one tends to spot animals munching on grass and wildflowers.

Much earlier in the day we had come upon a family of black bears doing just that, completely unconcerned as we passed by. Lewis slept through this encounter but was awake later when we happened upon a dead bear cub along the side of the road, prompting him to ask if we were going to see any live animals on this trip.

We were about 30 minutes from Liard Hot Springs when we stopped for this series of shots. (Actually, we stopped because a certain Boy insisted he could not make it another 30 minutes without using the bathroom.) It was the first time I’d pulled out the camera since leaving Dawson Creek – but not because I hadn’t seen anything worth photographing. The section of road between Dawson Creek and Laird Hot Springs is easily the most beautiful of the entire Alaska Highway. When I worked out our itinerary, I had hoped to get an early enough start that I could linger a little along the way here. Unfortunately, lots of rain and one dead deer insured that that didn’t happen.

Nevertheless, we were enjoying a spectacular drive. At times we felt like we were driving across the top of the world with dramatic views in all directions. In other places the road narrowed and the center line completely disappeared as we wound our way in and out of deep canyons. The road no longer felt like a highway but rather an intimate little side road that one might find in a national park. At one point, the highway paralleled a massive, braided river for miles, reminding me of the Icefields Parkway between Banff and Jasper – but devoid of any other people. We had the whole place to ourselves.

This stop was memorable for another reason as well. It was our first encounter with mosquitoes. They weren’t the giant mosquitoes so often referred to in tales of Alaska but they were hungry. The Boy, in his new R.E.I. shirt and flip flops, was unconcerned. Why couldn’t Taylor have worn hiking shoes in the days leading up to our trip?!? (Inside joke.)

Liard Hot Springs

We arrived at the Liard Hot Springs campground just minutes before a pair of friendly campground hosts locked the front gate for the evening. My parents, already there and set up, had alerted the two hosts that we would be arriving at some point. They were relieved that they would not have to wait around for us, as one of them shared in friendly but profanity-laced terms. Darla and I looked at each other both hoping that Lewis’s first exchange with Mimi and Papa T wouldn’t now involve dropping the F-bomb.

We were all excited to see Mimi and Papa T. Lewis raced over to Mimi and declared, “Daddy killed a deer!” Obviously, we weren’t going to put that event behind us for a while yet. On the bright side, at least Daddy hadn’t killed an f’ing deer!

Darla and I were excited to see Mimi and Papa T’s new 38’ 5th wheel. It was every bit as luxurious as we had imagined, with multiple slides, a fireplace, and plenty of other amenities not present on our little camper. Finally, we would be traveling in style!

Many veterans of the Alaska Highway consider a dip in the hot springs a mandatory part of the journey. I briefly considered skipping it to get back on schedule but ultimately decided it would be relaxing for me and fun for The Boy, who had been a very good traveler thus far. We’d traveled 1628 miles to get to this point; time to slow down a little.

Only Lewis and I would get in the water but Mimi and Darla brought cameras to document our experience. My mom snapped this first shot. Darla captured the rest of the images that follow. Mimi and Darla will both be contributing images to this account of our Alaska adventure.

The hot springs were very hot indeed. Lewis was not certain that he wanted to get all the way in once he felt the water temperature. Once he got acclimated he decided to go for it.

The hot springs are little more than waist deep for most adults. The Boy was just tall enough to keep his chin above the water in most spots. Occasionally, The Dad would provide an assist.

After about 45 minutes we decided to head back to the campsite for a quick breakfast before continuing down the road. I was glad we took the time to get in the water. The Boy was too. For the rest of the trip he continued to ask whether we would get to do it again.

We were back on the road before noon. We only needed to travel 299 miles today – our easiest day since leaving Seattle.

Mimi took this shot as she and Papa T followed us north.

Watson Lake, Yukon Territory

The little community of Watson Lake sits just a few miles inside the border of the Yukon Territory. It was our first stop of the day. As we passed the occasional sign counting down the number of kilometers until we arrived here I got the distinct feeling that I wanted to stop; I just couldn’t remember why. Fortunately, the attraction I wanted to see was right next to the road on the north end of town.

The Signpost Forest is a collection of signs which visitors from all over the globe post on their way through town. It was clear that many folks had put a lot of thought into their sign before they even left home. Others posted ad hoc signs in the form of license plates, dinner plates, pie plates, and even hubcaps with a message and date scrawled across the face of them.

I popped a tilt-shift lens onto my camera to take a few shots as we wandered around. This lens is the reason for the selective focus – the band of sharp focus that rapidly drops off into a blur – seen in many of these images.

I was really happy to see that Mom had captured this moment. The Boy had undoubtedly seen a dandelion seed head before but was yet unaware of the fun one could have with them. He was more than a little startled when I gave mine a good blow, initiating a game that would continue throughout the trip.

Mukluk Annie’s Salmon Bake

Mukluk Annie’s is a well known and highly regarded establishment along the Alaska Highway. Stop here for some salmon and you can camp for free, dump for free, and enjoy a free boat ride on the large lake that sits right behind the establishment. Sounds like a great deal, right? I thought so, which is why I elected to stop here instead of driving on into Whitehorse, 105 miles farther north.

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When I was researching Mukluk Annie’s a few months earlier, I did find among the throngs of admirers an occasional dissenter who claimed that this establishment was vastly overrated. With so much overwhelmingly positive feedback, I dismissed these folks as malcontents who were likely never happy with anything. Unfortunately, you can now count me among the malcontents.

The fish was dry and the rest of the meal – potato salad, et al – wasn’t even homemade. It came out of bulk containers like the ones delivered to your local school cafeteria. In fact, the best way to set your expectations is to imagine your meal being prepared in a college cafeteria. It’s not awful but it is a notch or two below what one would expect to get in any restaurant, much less one where you are paying $20+/entree.

Having said that, I love even dried out, marginal salmon; the real disappointment was the service we received. I wanted to make sure The Boy would get a boat ride so I mentioned this to our waitress when we sat down nearly an hour before its departure. Her response? “I don’t think you’re going to make it.”

Our server’s sucks-to-be-you attitude turned out to exemplify that of the entire staff. Despite the fact that the dining area was largely empty, no one seemed to want to acknowledge our presence – even when we needed assistance. It took forever to get our meal and, in the end, we missed the boat by less than 10 minutes. I couldn’t help but feel that if anyone had shown even the slightest sense of urgency we would have made it. Yet that’s not even the worst part. It turned out that there was another boat that left an hour after the first one. We could have easily made that departure if anyone had bothered to tell us about it. No one did. We heard about it after the fact from some folks who were on it.

Of course, you may be saying to yourself that, with all the freebies, this is still a good deal even if the food is marginal and you don’t get a boat ride. In our case, we paid US $49.06 for two meals, soft drinks, and a side dish of French fries for Lewis. We were able to dump for free and dry camp behind the restaurant. We could have taken the same $49.06, purchased $49.06 worth of fresh salmon from a grocery store in Watson Lake, dumped our tanks for free at the Watson Lake municipal park three hours earlier, and pulled over for the night in the large asphalt rest area just to the north of Mukluk Annie’s. Yes, we would have had to prepare dinner ourselves but it would have been a considerably better meal with plenty of salmon left over. Your mileage may vary.

The laundry facility was not free but it was pretty nice. We got in a quick load before calling it a night. On a five week trip there is no avoiding laundry so we looked for opportunities do it when it wouldn’t slow us down.

This was my final shot of the evening. It’s 10:08PM and the sun has not yet fallen behind the trees. We were definitely approaching the point of perpetual daylight, a shift made more obvious by the clear skies this evening. This extra daylight was most welcome as it meant that the rising and setting of the sun, the period of time when the light is most beautiful, was greatly extended.

Mom got this shot of a fox wandering down the side of the road outside of Dawson City. As the lead vehicle, I thought we might have an advantage when it came to seeing wildlife. My hypothesis turned out to be false. Whenever we would come upon wildlife it would almost always run for cover; by the time my parents arrived a few minutes later, the animal was usually out in the open again and often didn’t bother to run off a second time.

Dawson City, Y.T.

We arrived at the outskirts of Dawson City at around 8:40 in the evening. This was much later than I had hoped. Earlier in the day we stopped at the Whitehorse Walmart to stock up on supplies and have lunch. Unfortunately, we wasted a lot of time doing so. By the time we got going again we were a couple hours behind schedule.

It started to rain as we pulled into Whitehorse and was pouring by the time we left, but the rain had gradually tapered off over the course of the afternoon to the point where it was pretty nice now.

Not to be confused with Dawson Creek 1,208 miles to the south, Dawson City played a major role in the Klondike Gold Rush at the turn of the century. If I’m remembering my history correctly, Dawson City was once the largest city north of San Francisco and west of Edmonton.

These days, it’s not so big. In fact, I had held off fueling up our truck before getting here on the mistaken belief that Dawson City was a relatively major commercial center; it is not. I ended up paying more for diesel here than any other place on our entire trip – nearly $7 per gallon!

Mom captured this image of Dawson City as we drove through town looking for a cheap gas station. We never found one.

Before meeting up with us, my folks ran into another couple who were on their way back home from Alaska. They happened to mention that Dawson City was the one place they wished they had been able to spend more time. After getting here I could understand why. This quaint little community looked like it would have been good for at least a half day’s worth of activities; maybe more. Due to the late hour we only had time to eat dinner and leave. If I’m ever back in the area, I will plan for a longer stay here.

Dawson City sits right on the southeast bank of the Yukon River. The highway continues on the other side, however there is no bridge. Fortunately for travelers, the Yukon government provides a free ferry service that runs 24/7, shuttling even the largest RV’s across the river. Having said that, the largest RV’s may be wise to just take a pass and head back the way they came.

The highway that sits across from Dawson City is known as Top of the World Highway. On clear days it purportedly offers breathtaking views, however calling it a highway is a bit misleading. It is a narrow, winding, largely dirt and gravel road which drops off precipitously in spots. As we planned out this trip I suggested to Dad, whose combined length was 50+ feet, that he might want to take an alternate route and meet up with us down the road. He ended up deciding to stick with us after speaking to several other travelers who had driven the road and felt it was easily passable in all but the worst weather conditions.

Mom captured the previous image and this one, as Dad prepared to drive onto the ferry. It is 11:30 at night! We had been advised to take it slow to avoid dragging the back of our rigs as we boarded. Fortunately the angle of approach on this evening was very manageable.

Walk-on passengers got to board first. There was a separate area along the side of the ferry where they could better take in the view as we crossed the river. Had I understood this in advance I would have let Darla and Lewis get out of the truck and walk on. Next time.

It was midnight by the time we got settled in at the nice government campground along the opposite side of the river. If it had been earlier – or if we were planning to hang around for another day – I would have been inclined to hop back on the ferry and wander around Dawson City for a while. Instead I settled for a quick walk down to the river’s edge and then to bed. We wanted to get an early start to avoid meeting a lot of traffic along the “highway” the next morning.

The long line of RV’s waiting in line for the ferry this morning was no surprise. A friend had suggested crossing the Yukon in the evening to avoid the daily traffic jam. I was glad we did.

The weather looked promising. Perhaps we would enjoy the spectacular vistas folks always talk about after driving Top of the World Highway on a clear day. We were cautiously optimistic, having already learned how quickly the weather could change.

My parents headed down the highway right away. We decided to take the ferry over to Dawson City and back first so The Boy could enjoy a morning boat ride. He was pleased with our decision.

Top of the World Highway

We caught up with my folks about an hour later at a pullout, where Mom grabbed this shot of Darla and Lewis. The weather hadn’t stayed nice for long. It wasn’t raining but it was cold – although not so cold that The Boy would agree to change out of his flip flops.

Mom captured this series of three shots as we approached the small border station along the highway. Needless to say, any spectacular vistas had thus far eluded us.

One pleasant surprise was the condition of the road. It was in decent shape. It was wider than we expected, smoother than we expected, and punctuated with some unexpected stretches of asphalt.

After 2,400 miles of highway, we were finally in Alaska!

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