The road to Alaska (Part 1)Posted: July 2, 2015
Tolkien had one of his characters in the Lord of the Rings say about roads that you never know where they may take you. Well, that might well be true, but sometimes the roads that fire my imagination are those whose ends you DO know. There are two close to where I am sitting right now. Highway 1, or the TransCanada Highway, lies not more than two or three miles from this desk, and it runs all the way across Canada to St. Johns in Newfoundland, many many miles away. In fact, by the time you reach St Johns, you are close to Glasgow than Calgary.
The second road is just out west, a little past Cochrane, on the way to the Rockies on Highway 1A. This is a quieter way to get into the west, with nowhere near as much traffic as the TransCanada, and scenery that is just as good. Just before Ghost Lake, there is a road that branches off to the north, up and over a ridgeline, and out of sight. Forestry trunk road 40 – not the most romantic name to conjur with, but what fires my imagination is that this road continues to the northwest, following the Rockies, up through Nordegg (a name with meaning for geologists), to the east of Jasper, crosses the Athabasca River west of Hinton. You are now as far north as Edmonton, though quite a ways west of the city. Edmonton is three hours drive north of Calgary, say about the same drive as Glasgow to Manchester, or Glasgow to Aberdeen, in the UK. A quick look at a provincial roadmap for Alberta shows you that there is still lots more of Alberta to go; this is only the southernmost end.
On to Grand Prairie, and the road number changes. On through Muskwa and Fort Nelson in British Columbia, and the Yukon beckons at Upper Liard (another geological name) and Watson Lake. Jakes Corner leads to Whitehorse, a city I will fly to some day. From Dawson City, the road splits, taking you either north to the places you have seen in Ice Road Truckers, Inuvik, Aklavik and Tuk, or west into Alaska. Highway 2 ultimately leads you on to Fairbanks, and continues on to a barrier at Deadhorse: “No private transportation beyond this point”. This is about five miles or so from Prudhoe Bay, on the Beaufort Sea. From here, you’d get your feet wet.
So, all of this lies within about thirty minutes drive from where I’m sitting. One day I will drive the whole thing, but for now, I’ll have to settle for the first few miles. I drove it on Canada Day, trying to get away from the crowds thronging to the better known places I like to visit. The first part is easy, on paved roads, winding through Water Valley, in beautiful rolling farmland. Off ahead are the Rockies, with peaks like Devil’s Thumb prominent on the skyline. To the southwest, a thunderstorm rolled and boomed across the southern part of Highway 40, down near Mt Kidd and Mt Baldy. Up here, it was beautiful, a good day to be alive, with swallows zipping about over the grass, and barely any sound but the wind.
These are the kinds of roads that I like to drive, particularly at night, when you can stop the engine somewhere rural, and the silence almost hits you. Watching the moon rise over Moose Mountain, and the conjunction of Venus and Jupiter over the Rockies at midnight. The only thing that can give an edge to nights like that is the sound of things moving around in the deep woods, in the dark, in cold that could give you frostbite. That happened up at Two Jack Lake, in February this year, while it was twenty below. Whatever it is that’s moving around is welcome to it! Back to the car and a good heater!
For this kind of drive though, you really need two people, and to plan logistics. Fuel stops are a long way apart, and breakdowns become more than a simple inconvenience. That said, this is proper driving, and I plan to see it all some day. Any takers for the co-driver’s seat? More to follow as I head north and west.