Alaska

DAY 1 - 492 miles

My trip of a lifetime. Normally this would require an early morning start. But with summer school and work, we set off at 2 p.m. this Friday afternoon. Barbara had her learner's driving permit, so she inaugurated the trip by driving from Dallas to Norman Oklahoma via I-35. I took over and we went up the Kansas Turnpike I-35/335. I remembered the first service plaza had a wonderful gift shop with lots of Wizard of Oz items. [Discussed briefly in a previous travelogue Maxwell].

I pulled in for gas, but didn't recognize the place. The one restroom was overflowing with people and dirty, with a posted apology that the services were short because the gift shop, restaurant, and Welcome Center had burned down April 6, 2002 from a grease fire in the kitchen. No Toto gifts to buy, and surely a bad omen to the trip.

The traffic I had to endure just the week before from Dallas to Boston was heavy with cars and commercial trucks. Steven required a return to Brandeis on short notice. I did the 3,500 mile round-trip in the Durango, Friday - Tues (the last day doing 1250 miles straight - my new all-time record.) On this trip, Dallas to OKC had fairly heavy traffic, with plenty of Texas license plates. But by the time we entered Kansas the traffic reduced to a trickle, but still with Texas plates.

We made Topeka by 10 p.m. as planned. It was dark, and I knew nothing about the Capital city of Kansas (pop. 120K). After passing some motels, I picked one within a stone's throw of their starred attraction State House - the Capital Center Inn. A dump, off I-70/Hwy 40. Their air conditioning was faulty and we needed to visit two rooms to find one with adequate (but not good) cooling. The up side was I could see the Capital from the parking lot (if being careful not to step on the broken glass). Figuring other places in the city might not be better, and knowing we'd be gone before breakfast, we settled down and got to sleep.

DAY 2 - 805 miles

Anxious as I was, we got on the road in the dark at 4:45 a.m. It will become clear later on as we travel north why I make reference to the light, or absence of it, at a particular time of day.

My advance planning of the trip (which took weeks) suggested I take Hwy 75 straight out of Topeka to save time and miles, and should afford a more scenic route than staying on the interstate to Omaha. However, when 75 entered Nebraska, I had to take a detour on roads which weren't on most maps. We went 6 miles west on Neb 8, traveled up an unimproved road called Neb 105 til we got to Humbolt, then crossed back east on Neb 4 until Hwy 75 again. When I got as far as Nebraska City I decided to get off Hwy 75 and took Hwy 2 east to Interstate 29. This puts you in Iowa and brings you north to Council Bluffs, which is across the river from Omaha, Nebraska. From there, we were back on course through Sioux City, Iowa; Sioux Falls, South Dakota; and Fargo, North Dakota.

Emerson, Canada is the border town where we crossed. Preparations for this trip included bringing my passport, a notarized letter from Sandy of consent to transport a minor across international borders (child abduction is a serious and not infrequent problem) and proof of citizenship for Barbara (birth certificate & photo ID). I also had obtained (with some difficulty) a Yellow non-resident inter-province motor vehicle liability insurance card from my auto insurance agent. I didn't need this at the customs station, nor luckily, anytime while in Canada.

The Canadian customs officer reviewed the papers, thanked me for having everything in order, and I was through in a minute. Immediately across the border, the AAA tourbook had mentioned there was a statue of a Royal Mounted Police in Emerson. I drove through Emerson expecting to see it (the town is two streets, has a population of 700, and bills itself as a big city alternative) but finally had to ask directions. Seems it isn't really in the town, but fronts the Manitoba Welcome Center on Hwy 75. We found it and the Center itself was quite nice architecturally and had useful info on our port of call - Winnipeg.

The short 70 mile drive to Winnipeg (pop. 620K) was deserted of cars. Luckily two people had stopped their cars and acted as warning guards that the roadway had buckled producing a 2 foot vertical displacement across the entire side of our dual lane highway. We transversed it slowly. We also had to get used to speeds in Km/h and distance in kilometers. 80 Km/h = 50 mph.

After checking into a motel, we had plenty of time to drive around. I circled the entire city and covered the downtown. Winnipeg is not a U.S. city. Although the language is English, the country is bilingual so that signs are either in French and English, or pictorial. Highways are less well paved, no cloverleaf patterns on the "perimeter highway" (= beltway or loop). The downtown was more like an old American east coast city, and certainly not a tourist Mecca. Homes don't use brick which surprised me as it is cold there in the winter. Perhaps it isn't the best building material for them, or maybe too expensive.

I'd guess a quarter of the commercial businesses in Canada are U.S. There are some which seem to go head-to-head. From my vast inexperience being in the country a few hours, I put together this list :

U.S.	Canada
Wal Mart	SuperStore; Zeller
Esso; Shell	Husky; Domo
Diary Queen	Tim Horton
Midas	Minute Muffler
Holiday Inn	Canadian Inn
McDonald's	Salisbury House of Canada
Century 21	Maximum
IGA	Foodfare
Blockbusters	Pick-a-flick
Chrysler	KIA CANADA
Sears	Hudson Bay Co.
AAA	CAA

Speaking of AAA, they switched from identifying a really good attraction as being STARRED, to being a GEM - Great Experience for Members. I generally try to see these attractions, and so that night (ahead of schedule) we went downtown to The Forks. Yes, it is at the fork in the Red River which runs through town. We walked through the shops (underwhelming). Went up a tower to view the area and could see their local baseball park, home of the Winnipeg Goldeyes (one of the teams in the Northern League, which includes American & Canadian cities). And had a really good dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant. Canada, like the U.S. at this time was experiencing a heat wave, and we dressed accordingly.

DAY 3 - 405 miles

The next morning we went to the other GEM, the Manitoba Museum of Man and Nature. It was ok, a bit outdated in terms of technology to display their exhibits, and the content of the exhibits (e.g. the tree of life was circa 1980's). There was a cute folk art exhibit of outdoors art (we'd call them lawn ornaments).

By 11:30 a.m. we were ready to leave Winnipeg. I will mention that the mileage I put in the daily header refers to the miles between origin and destination cities for that day. Some days we stay in the same city, so it might be zero. It doesn't include side trips (which could be hundreds of miles) if we return to the base city. But total miles driven from Dallas to Dallas was the grand total given at the top of this travelogue.

TC-1 (TransCanada Hwy 1) west from Winnipeg was flat, windy and boring, going through the breadbasket of Canada, with green farmland and no traffic. We skirted around Regina, which from the highway appeared more modern and new, with even a few brick houses. Barbara and I were pronouncing it /ra gene ah/. But on the TV weather channel they said it as if it rhymed with vagina. We stuck with our own interpretation throughout the trip. Our destination that night was Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan (pop. 33K) just west of Regina. I pulled into a Comfort Inn motel and tried to pay with my MasterCard. But I couldn't find it.

A real sick feeling comes over you when you think you lost your credit card on the 3rd day of a 3 week trip. I remembered having it at the SHELL gas station in Brandon, Manitoba. It was a full service station, typical in Canada, but rarely seen in the U.S. The young attendant took my card, returned for me to sign the bill and I drove away (obvious now without my card). I called him from the motel. Yes, it was on the counter and he was sorry but got busy and forgot to return it. He looked for my name in their phone book to see if he could call me without success. Upset, I instructed him to cut it up and immediately mail it to my Dallas address. I silently vowed never to use full service again (but this would be thwarted soon enough). I called Sandy and we decided to notify MC but not close the account as I would try to have merchants hand enter the MC number, using an old receipt and my Passport as proof I was the valid owner.

Meanwhile I had back up plans. I had $400 in Canadian travelers checks, but this would be insufficient to pay for food, motels and gas. Gas was expensive in Canada, sold by the liter (of which there are 4 per gallon), it ran 65-95 cents per liter. Even converting Canadian to U.S. (two-thirds), it was typically over $2 U.S./gal, and my Durango gets 14-17 mpg. I spent $1,000 on gas this trip.

Another backup was my second credit card, Discover. However, it expired the next day! And Sandy hadn't bothered to tell me the new ones were in Dallas, and she wasn't even planning to activate them as we used them so infrequently. Worse, almost no one in Canada accepts Discover (except major motel chains like Comfort Inn). I would had to have the occasional merchant hand enter the Discover card number and new expiration date since "swiping it" with the old expiration date would turn up a denial. I was going to have to sleep on this and figure out a durable solution. But of course the CAA office in Moose Jaw was closed today (Sunday) and Monday was July 1, Canada Day - everything was closed. Not good.

Insult to injury, the mosquitoes in Moose Jaw were thick and fast. Walking to the car in the motel parking lot induced swarms of them to attack, and they followed you into the car. We were to put our cans of Cutter bug repellent to the test from here out. Oh, and Barbara had developed an ear ache which I empirically treated as otitis with some ampicillin from my emergency bag of medicines and bandages. The Durango was in fact half filled with emergency and contingency items - bug spray, long sleeve shirt, hat, sun screen, knife, sleeping bags and pillows (if we had to sleep in the car), multiple coats of different weight, snow boots, large plastic bag for wet/muddy clothes, laundry detergent, bathroom air fresher, car oil, antifreeze, windshield washer, epoxy glue (if rearview mirror falls off), epoxy putty to fix punctured gas tank from rocks, air filter (heavy dust), gas can, matches, paper towels, water jug (radiator leak or for emergency drinking).

Nevertheless, with time zone changes which occurred, and Saskatchewan ignoring Daylight Savings Time, we were early enough to make the evening performance of the Tunnels of Moose Jaw. This was actually the highlight of the trip for Barbara where actors played out the scenario in real underground tunnels used by Al Capone in the making and distribution of bootleg whiskey to the U.S. After the show I had the Comfort Inn clerk call ahead to Calgary, and using the Discover card I used here, make 2 nights reservation.

Barbara has recorded extensively in her diary about the Tunnels and I promised to insert it.

We entered a small town still stuck in the '20s. We headed for a hotel and once established, we drove to downtown, only 2 miles away, and parked in a small lot behind the buildings. We walked to the tours and bought tickets for Al Capone's tunnels. We crossed the street and entered a modern coffee shop. We saw the stairs to our left and began ascending. We waited for a bit while our guide, Miss Fanny, came to escort us. She took our tickets and made friendly talk. She was a young, pretty girl of her early 20s with a head band with a feather in it and the old flapper dress of the '20s. She took us into the bar area and explained its significance. It was Al's bar, more or less. We saw a short film explaining Al's boot legging career, the bartender as our narrator. [Note by rmd: the bartender, a drunk at a table and the piano player were all robots]

We had to leave quickly because Wally and his boys were coming. We entered Al's living room and learned about his taste for elephant figurines. We then entered Al's office and discovered the bullet proof chair and escape route through the fireplace. Miss Fanny also told us about the $30,000 Cadillac Limo with blacked out windows and bullet proof exterior.

We soon had to leave Al's office and entered Al's bedroom filled with silks and satins. He had the finest suits. He also had talcum powder to cover his scars he received from the older brother of a girl whose heart he broke. The three infamous scars across his cheek left him the simple nickname, "Scarface", but we were told not to use that name in his presence.

Miss Fanny was in a panic of what to do with us, so she called Gus. Gus didn't answer the phone and Miss Fanny began to worry. She took us through the door behind the wardrobe and down a few flights of stairs. At the bottom, we used the secret knock (knock 4 times) to get Gus, but he didn't answer. Miss Fanny took us into her quarters and explained how she had become Al's bookkeeper. Then she listened in on a few telephone conversations and was frightened to hear they were after her. She quickly rushed us to the door with the secret knock (4 times) and Gus slammed the eye slot open. Miss Fanny explained the situation and he took over our care. Miss Fanny left.

Gus was a young man in his early 20s with a gangster suit and hat. He told us he had been working with Al since New York and Chicago. He was then asked to work the North. He thought Northern Chicago, he got Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, Canada. He took us through the original tunnels and entered a small room with some guns and ammo on the wall. The door we came through looked like part of the shelves. Gus told us about the "Tommy Gun". The guy who invented it had it completed after the war and no one to buy it. Al ended up buying 3 of these expensive machine guns.

Gus told us a story of how Al went golfing and had a small gun in his clubs bag. The safety was off and it shot through his legs. He was better after 3 weeks, but warned everyone to have the safety on when you're not using the gun. Gus then took us through another secret door into the brewery. He explained the process they go through to make the whiskey. Gus then told another story about Al. Al needed to have his tonsils taken out, so they got a doctor and the doctor said "we need to put you under". Al thought he meant six feet under, so he threw a rage and broke many bottles. Finally, Al got his tonsils out only using whiskey as an anaesthetic. Al tipped the Doc a $100 for his service.

As soon as Gus finished his story, he took us into a small room where he and the boys played cards, nickel slots, and listened to a gramophone. The phone rang abruptly and Gus answered to find Miss Fanny's voice and the urgency to get rid of us. We were to meet Miss Fanny in her quarters. We rushed through more tunnels and entered Miss Fanny's quarters with no Miss Fanny. Gus took us through the back door of her quarters and had to be careful. We were doing good till a gate closed and blocked our path. We were going to use another, smaller passage but that was blocked too. Gus ended up picking the lock and taking us through a sewage filled tunnel. We got to another room where the door closed and Miss Fanny couldn't follow and had to have a shoot out with the cops. Gus panicked and left us and ran away through another door leaving us alone. What a wimp. Although, he came back cause they were coming from that way too.

We all simply left through another door marked Exit. Gus took off his hat and declared his real name was Randy. He asked if we had any questions and hoped we enjoyed the tour. I asked for a photo and got one of us together. "Gus" then left through the door we had just exited from and was gone. We went up a staircase and found ourselves back in the store that we got our tickets from. I bought an Al Capone, The Chicago Connection, keyring and exited the store. We returned to the car. The journey was over.

DAY 4 - 423 miles

A night's sleep convinced me I needed to spend an extra day in Calgary to arrange finances. As is always the case, one's predicament is never unique. I mentioned my plight to a woman from Oregon who was pouring coffee next to me at the motel's complimentary breakfast bar. She recounted forgetting her credit card at a gas station during another trip, and having no back up. She told me she convinced merchants to mail her the bill, as she was only a few days from the end of her trip. (I didn't think to ask, but this must have been in bygone days when people were more trusting.)

Barbara and I got into our SUV at 6 a.m., accompanied by mosquitoes. She spent the morning swatting them dead, and we sprayed repellent on us while in the car.

We approached Calgary (pop. 770K) from the east, through rolling hills, lakes, migrating birds, farms and ranches. The Canadian Rocky Mountains back dropped the city, like you'd see coming into Denver or Colorado Springs. As opposed to Manitoba, the Canadian Province of Alberta is like our West, and the cities are newer and brighter, with skyscrapers and impressive cityscapes. We found the Comfort Inn we had reserved, checked the map where the CAA was located, and since it was early afternoon, immediately set off for Banff (80 miles further west in the mountains).

I fill up the gas tank frequently, and in Banff there were only full service stations, so my vow dissolved away. I asked the attendant to hand enter my MasterCard, which he did without requesting any proof I was me! For several days I played this game, explaining truthfully what had happened to my credit card and asking them to use my last motel receipt to copy in the number and expiration date. Some merchants did it without further questions, some refused until I volunteered my passport as proof of ownership. Shows how easy credit card fraud can be. Later I just showed the passport up front. In some small towns or isolated gas stations out in the Yukon, they wouldn't take Traveler's checks, especially $100. It would deplete their cash, and they might not get banking services but once a week to cash it in. They would insist on a credit card. Motels were funny as well. I'd explain I would be paying in cash (Traveler's check) and they would insist on a credit card up front to guarantee the room rather than cash. This would cover them if I incurred other charges (e.g. made extra phone calls or dining room). They would then take the cash in the morning and uncharge the credit card. Otherwise I would have to pay them for the room plus $50-100 extra up front, and get the extra cash refunded in the morning.

How can I describe Banff. Storybook scenery, Disneyland atmosphere, cool and delightful weather, very busy with tourists, especially Japanese and Canadian (but a good share of Texans and Americans). To get to the city, you must enter into the National Park. Since it was Canada Day, admission was free, and since it was good for 24 hrs, it meant we'd get in free the next day as well. The best way to see the city and surrounding mountains was to ride up to the top of a mountain on a gondola.

The city is a mile high, and the 8 minute ride takes us up to the top of Mt. Sulfur at 7500 ft. We knew to wear our winter coats and hoods. The hike along the boardwalk to the observatory was accompanied by strong wind and snow. Every picture we took came out like a post card, snow capped peaks of the Rockies, with the Bow Valley and lake setting off the majestic Banff Springs Hotel, the Jewel of the city. Barbara even captured a rainbow projected on the valley floor from the clouds hanging over the peaks. Not that the scenery was any less beautiful walking the streets. We were in the IN place, as they had a full schedule of events for Canada Day, including a parade at 5 p.m. Fireworks were scheduled for 11 p.m. (late, as it doesn't get dark til then) which we missed. But we shopped, and had a good dinner at one of the many Chinese restaurants. Banff was intoxicating, and we'd be back for more. Although it seemed inconvenient to be based in Calgary, our Comfort Inn rate of $108 compares with the in season rates of $200-500 in Banff. I'll show you just one photo. Really, it's mine, not a postcard.

DAY 5 - 0 miles

We started the day by going to a nearby Safeway supermarket. They have their shopping carts (outside and in) interlocked with an interesting system of lock and chain which is released by inserting 25¢. When the cart is returned, so is the quarter. Not foolproof but reasonably so. Presumably designed to reduce both littering the carts around the parking lot, and theft. Another thing they do differently is not have post offices. They have full service postal areas within other commercial establishments, but no free standing and exclusive postal buildings for weighing, stamps, etc.

By now the CAA office was open and we drove over to the main office in Calgary, known as the Alberta Motor Agency Travel Ltd. I explained my 20 years of good standing with AAA, and my emergency need for Canadian and American traveler's cheques. Sympathetic, but they only sell them (as do their American counterparts) for cash, or a local check. Sort of like asking a bank for a loan and having to prove you don't need it. They don't take credit cards either. The Assist. Director made calls to my Dallas bank confirming I had the cash to cover my check, but the bank wouldn't guarantee it (no bank will set funds aside). Nor would it help to "transfer" funds to a Canadian bank (could take days to clear). A Calgary money lending service would help if I could produce a recent payroll slip. Western Union wouldn't allow me to wire money to myself, and their fees if Sandy would do it [she was in fact unavailable] were very high. We spent 1½ hours going through all possible scenarios. Finally, I told them I would pay the service charge (2.5%) on a MasterCard transaction so their "free" service to CAA/AAA members wouldn't cost them any money and they had to trust I wouldn't turn around and call MC not to pay the credit card charge. Seems ingenious people have conned them out of money before. So it cost me about $75 to get $3,000 Canadian and $1,000 U.S.

Time to get back to vacation, and we drove out of town to Banff (pop. 6K). We passed by the winter Olympic Park just outside Calgary. Ski jump towers dominated the already impressive site. Since Barbara had never ridden a horse, we arranged for an hour of horse back riding in Banff. We made the 1 p.m. Spray River Ride and found we were the only ones going out on the trail (although a bus load arrived for a later session). Through the woods, across a river, into the golf course behind the Fairmont Hotel. All with the Rocky Mountains against a blue, sunny sky and 70 degree weather. It was pretty damn good. You know, like Billy Crystal in City Slickers.

A quick lunch in town (Wendy's) and then we left Banff and traveled another 120 miles past Lake Louise into Jasper National Park and the Columbia Icefield. In Banff, I had purchased the auto tour on cassette tapes with a map, which narrates the history and geology of the trip from Banff to the Columbia Icefield (and the second tape from the Columbia Icefield to Jasper). Informative and humorous with tall tales and true stories. It helped pass the time, although the scenery was spectacular on its own.

Getting to Icefield Centre after 4 p.m., we made the next to last tour out to the Athabasca Glacier on the special Snocoaches designed to move on the ice. We heard all the interesting facts, like one of the peaks there was one of only 2 mountain peaks in the world which was a triple divide (water could flow into one of 3 oceans (Pacific, Artic, Atlantic). The previous day's weather had been miserable, as had the day before and the day before, but today the sun came out and it was 40 degrees on the glacier. We had our winter coats but inexplicably did not wear our boots (so as luck had it we walked into water while getting a drink from melting glacier ice which was pure and at least 60 years old). Because of the late hour, we were the only Coach on the ice and had unlimited freedom and views for the 20 minutes out of the bus. The blue ice is unique to glaciers because the snow has compacted and compressed the air out. Here's a montage with Barbara.

Back at Icefield Centre we shopped at the gift store, but didn't have time for all the wonderful exhibits. A couple from Michigan was also in the shop. Retired and in one of the hundreds of RVs and mobile homes on the roads, they were taking 5 months to travel to Alaska (and back). Their kids where minding the store, but now insisted to fly out and meet them in Anchorage. We didn't have such a relaxed schedule, and turned back to Banff. It doesn't get dark at night til real late, so I could drive in daylight. We saw a grizzly bear, black bears, mountain goats and elk. By the time we got back to Banff it was 9:30 p.m. and we were hungry for dinner. A tiny pizzeria wafted good smells, and we took out a small pizza which we ate in the car on the drive back to Calgary. Needless to say we were tired after horse back riding, glaciering, and traveling 400 miles. Barbara and I slept well as the sun began to set at 10:30 p.m.

DAY 6 - 723 miles

My original itinerary had called for us to sleep in Jasper or beyond. Now we got up at 5 a.m., unsure we could possibly travel the 720 miles to get to Smithers. This is a town closest to the Stewart-Cassier Hwy, and it is a major major major drive to do that highway in a day (as there is nowhere to stop to sleep, and barely any gasoline along the way. It's for lumber trucks.) If we don't make Smithers, I don't do the Stewart Hwy. All along the trip I have not especially called ahead for reservations (except the Calgary motel) as I was never sure I would be on schedule, or what these places looked like. If fact, I had kept close to schedule, and made up lost time when necessary. This was a crap shoot. Smithers is tiny, and any significant tourist influx could easily fill the few motels. You need to remember we are in the Northwest Territories with few people and facilities. However, so far, even in Banff, motel vacancies have been prominent, suggesting the number of tourists is down. Gas becomes more critical as the distance between stations can be 50-100 miles, and with a range of only 300 miles, I fill up when I've gone 150 miles (200 tops). Constantly keeping track of mileage and gas takes the fun out of driving. So far the Canadian Rockies are no better looking than the Rockies in Montana. I've done so many trips that it's getting harder to top each one. Plus having Barbara with me puts added responsibility on the trip. But we are both enjoying things greatly so far.

We wave good bye to the Winter Olympic site, Banff and retrace our route to the Icefields. It's amazing that you see people riding bicycles everywhere in the mountains. Hard enough on the cars. The streams around here are all glacier fed, and thus are braided. The water carries gravel and dirt, which accumulates, making islands and banks, and shifting the river course back and forth. From above, the pattern looks weaved, or braided. Its Geology 101 - mountain erosion in action, real life and quite pretty up close. We drive past the Columbia Icefield and the weather is overcast, actually completely clouded over and some rain and snow. We were fortunate to have done this site yesterday on the one good day. Our glacier guide had said it was the best day of the season.

Now at the icefield, I put in the second tape and listened all the way to Jasper while we traveled up Hwy 93. These roads, although paved and sometimes dual lane, have speed limits of 50 mph. No police to monitor it, but the curves and grade, other vehicles like mobile homes, wild game and such, can slow you down even if you get up to 60 or 70 mph at times. In Jasper (pop. 4K) it was cloudy and raining (the two don't have to go hand in hand around here). We visited the information center and gift shop. I was intrigued by a nature book and am reading it now, "How to Shit in the Woods" by Kathleen Meyer.

We took a leisurely lunch after a drive through town. Not as nice as Banff. The motel next to lunch had The Den, a museum of wildlife. We didn't think it warranted the few Canadian dollars they charged, so instead checked the next door gift shop where we dropped even more money.

After Jasper, we got on TC-16 which is a major artery. However, the number of logging trucks kept the going slow. We stopped in McBride (pop. 700, yes seven hundred), but can't remember why now, other than maybe get gas. I remember we did get gas in Prince George (pop. 75K) which bills itself as the Spruce Capital. Somehow the signs ran out as I was trying to follow TC-16 through town. I got lost and finally went into a Blood Bank office for directions. The lady was very kind, not surprised the road signs failed, and pointed out I was only a block away from a road which would get me back on track. We made Smithers 15 hours after leaving Calgary. There were vacancies at the Aspen Motor Inn (my 1st choice using AAA). The clerk confirmed that business was off, less tours (although a tour bus did pull in) God knows what people do there (pop. 5.6K), or where they go from there. However, the view out my second story window of the Rockies was spectacular, and golf, swimming, skiing, hunting, etc are all in the area.

DAY 7 - 535 miles

It's July 4th. At 6:40 a.m. I'm ready to travel what I expect to be the most challenging road of my life. I was on and off about going this route when planning the trip. The Alaskan Hwy (which we haven't even gotten to), had a bad enough reputation. This road is almost unknown, and restricted to hardy souls and the timber industry. Few tourists I spoke with on the entire trip had taken this route.

My father first put a scare in me about traveling the roads of the Yukon and Alaska. He's a senior citizen, and his friends recounted horror stories. But was this just urban legend? I decided to check.

On Thursday, March 21, 2002 I emailed Anne Marie Tavella, Anchorage Daily News
Dear Anne,
As a reporter, I thought you might be a reliable source of information to me and my 15 y.o. daughter. We are planning to drive from Dallas, TX to Anchorage over 3 weeks (itinerary attached). Unfortunately, I have heard rumors from people who have visited Alaska by plane or cruise ship that driving was a bad idea. The reason being that the road is filled with robbers and such and you should be sure you take a weapon like a semi automatic rifle with you. The distances between stops is great and there are many holdups, rapes and attacks which are not publicized.

She replied:
I am by no means an expert on crime along the Alaska-Canada Highway. However, I have driven from Anchorage to Seattle and from Anchorage to Illinois. I also worked at a hotel while attending high school in Anchorage and spoke with hundreds of people, if not more, who drove to Alaska. I have never heard of anyone being attacked or robbed. The distance between stops is great, but you should be fine if you follow simple safety precautions, such as not picking up hitchhikers and limiting the amount you travel at night. If you do choose to arm your self you should make sure your weapon is listed as non-restricted under Canadian law. Canadian customs are serious about allowing only certain firearms into their country. Good luck on your trip.

At the same time, I also emailed Holly Carrier, Alaska Department of Public Safety
She replied:
Well, I have forwarded your message on for a reply from someone with the Alaska State Troopers, and you should be hearing directly from them.

To answer your question from my own standpoint, I have never heard of an unusually high number of "robbers and such" on the highways up here. Of course, a certain amount of caution should be exercised, as it should be anywhere else. Yes, the distances between stops can be great in some areas, so it is important that you have extra gas, water, and other supplies in case of a break-down.

Please check with the Alaska State Troopers regarding bringing firearms into the state. There are some restrictions. They can be contacted at (907) 269-5641.

I expect you will get a separate response from AST in the near future.

In a further exchange,
Richard wrote:
Much appreciated. I don't own a gun and won't be bring one, I'm not a native Texan, the gun thing was just part of the rumor. Thanks.

Holley wrote:
Well, we all know how these rumors are! Like the thieves and pirates on the side of the highway to Alaska!

And yes, a trooper did respond as promised:
Greg Wilkinson, Information Officer, Alaska DPS
Although I can't promise you a completely trouble free trip to Alaska, I can assure you that the type of crime you're describing is more the stuff of exaggeration and legend than fact. The Alaskan/Canadian Highway has seen both improvements and increased usage over the past decade, making road travel to Alaska safer and more convenient than ever. If you will send me a mailing address I'll be happy to forward along a copy of our brochure "Help Along the Way: Emergency Medical Services for Alaska Travelers 2001 Edition". It is packed with useful phone numbers, emergency contacts, and helpful tips for traveling through Alaska and Canada. If you haven't already purchased one, I also recommend a copy of The Milepost travel guide as well. Your best bet is to always file a travel plan with a friend or family member, than stick to that plan. Arrange for regular check in times, and remind your friend that they should contact the authorities immediately if you fail to check in. (some people seem to think you have to wait 24 hours to report someone missing and you don't!). And remember, it is against the law to travel in Canada with a gun, so leave the semi-automatic rifle at home! Anything else I can do for you, don't hesitate to ask.

Leaving Smithers on TC-16 had us run into road construction. Out here there are few roads, and rather than build a temporary road, they just destruct the road and have you travel it with the construction vehicles. We waited for a pilot car, and followed at 25 mph over loose gravel and extreme dust (despite a light rain which kept the dust down). The Durango was coated with dirt and mud. By 8 a.m. we got to the beginning of Hwy 37. (here's my picture of the gas station and billboards at the start of it.) Hard to believe Walter Muma did this 450 mile logging road with few communities or services on a moped.
BritishColumbia.com has more information about this area which you are likely never to personally see.

We traveled 70 miles in a cold, intermittent rain which interfered with seeing the Seven Sisters Mountains from Kitwanga. Another 10 miles got us to a side road which took us out of the way (can you get more out of the way then we already were?) to Gitanyow (also called Kitwancool; these "towns" are too small to have a recorded population in tourbooks, but looking up stats from the Canadian government, or timber industry, yields 700 people). Some of the roads are listed as paved or hard surfaced, other are listed as gravel. All are primitive. However, there were adequate gas stations. At Gitanyow there was a grassy field and a few wood structures and 19 totem poles including the world's largest 140 y.o. Hole_in_the_sky totem pole.

From Gitanyow to Meziaden Jct is a 115 mile stretch of intermittent gravel road. On a clear day nothing can spoil the stupendous views, but we didn't have a clear day. At Meziaden Jct we again stopped for gas and a cup of coffee. The one gas pump was an island in mud and puddles, and the store had two people in it (besides the woman owner). One was a healthy, thin and fit single, woman who we were to pass, and be passed, over the next 300 miles. She had just come up Hwy 37A from Hyder, Alaska/ Stewart, B.C. where she purported the scenery to be worth the 40 mile each way detour. I had struggled with this side trip myself when making the original itinerary. You can stop the car and walk 100 feet to the foot of glaciers. Luckily, we had done better at the Icefields, and the overcast day helped me decide against it. Hwy 37 seemed enough of a challenge at the moment.

There were very few cars or vehicles. Turns out this wasn't the timber season, so not many logging trucks. Yet I had seen plenty of them on TC-16, and saw lumber yards piled high to the sky with stripped trees. I was beginning to acclimate to the road, having been on worst out West (Big Bend, TX) where the dry road bed was like a washer board. However, every town and gas station advertised tire repair services.

Another 60 miles and north of what was called BELL II were avalanche areas which I figured unimportant in July. Glaciers were dripping down the mountains to my left, while clouds and rain covered the sky. The mountains were blanketed with evergreens, two shades of emerald, and snow capped with rivulets coming down the sides as the road followed the winding river. The sun breaks through the clouds and suddenly an entire chain of snow capped mountains is revealed. A picture I didn't take with my camera but burned into memory.

To counterbalance, if you will, the beauty of the country, the rain was turning areas of loose gravel and mud into a slurry with the traction of ice. My 4-wheel drive SUV shimmied and slid through these sections, and I heard worse from other travelers.

I was afraid there would be no place to eat, but we found Dease Lake to have two restaurants and accommodations, a gift shop and a gas bar (what they call gas stations in Canada). Further north we came to a complete stop, and a line slowly formed of SUVs, RVs and mobile homes. The road was in bad shape as I had described, but I haven't mentioned that pot holes, some bigger than pots, were frequent. While looking for the sweet spot to drive, vehicles would frequently make use of the entire road since traffic was almost non-existent. In this case, a large (I mean large - commercial bus sized) mobile home was coming the other way. The white haired old husband was sleeping while the wife was driving. She swerved right, over to the shoulder to avoid this car. But the shoulders are soft, and the home tipped over and down a 30 foot ditch. Amazingly they were ok. Now we sat 90 minutes while two truck sized tow trucks were pulling it out. I had time to re-acquaint myself with the woman from Hwy 37A.

At every traffic accident or road construction, there are people, usually women, who stand guard with signs (stop / slow) and direct traffic. With all the beautiful scenery blocked from our sight, and only mosquitoes for company, I asked her about her worse tour of duty. She couldn't forget the winter when a crew was cleaning up a major truck accident. In these desolate areas there is no relief person, and you can't go on break. She was there for 21 hours in -37 degrees. I asked, "No bathroom breaks?" "Honey" she said, "no need for modesty, just dropped my drawers." That ended my conversation, not a pretty thought.

Finally back on our way, we passed Jade City and reached Upper Liard, which is where the Steward Hwy ends and hits Hwy 97, also known as TC-1 or the Alaska Hwy. Although Alaska was to our west, we went 14 miles east to Watson Lake, Yukon as the closest place for a room and something resembling a town (pop. 1K). As it was only 7 p.m., we were able to get a room easily at the famous Watson Lake Hotel, which hosts the Sign Post Forest. A homesick American GI, working on the Alaskan Highway project in 1942, planted a sign pointing to his home in Danville, Illinois. Today there are over 50,000 signs (and a billion mosquitoes).

After a hamburger dinner from the hotel's bar, Barbara suggested we attend the last show at the Northern Lights Centre. This wasn't on my itinerary, probably because I didn't think we'd have the time, nor did I expect much of it in a place like Watson Lake. But their Space and Science Centre planetarium has some exhibits (mostly computer interactive) and the two shows, Northern Lights and The Yukon, were excellent and informative. We got Yukon Gold Passports identifying 12 sites in the Yukon to see, and if you get all 12 stamped you might win a prize. Barbara converted and wanted to spend more time in the Yukon to get them all. In fact we did go to 5 of the 8 cities in the book: Watson Lake, Teslin, Whitehorse, Burwash Landing and Dawson City (missed Faro, Mayo, Keno City). We left the Centre at 9:30 p.m. in broad daylight. Seemed like our vacation was just starting, and we were experiencing the same things we were seeing in the movies and shows. By traveling up the entire vertical length of British Columbia, we had come farther north then is easy to imagine. It was still light by bedtime (10:30 p.m.) and light on our awaking next morning at 4:30 a.m.

DAY 8 - 667 miles

The morning drizzle increased to a harder rain through vast forests and rolling mountains. A moose and her baby crossed the road right in front of my car. The Alaska Hwy going west from Watson Lake is reasonably good, with adequate services. A gas bar might be two pumps, and a motel is a trailer home with a permanent foundation. The price of petrol increases as we go northwest. From 65 cents/liter in Winnipeg, it's now up to 85¢/L (and rising). This is real wilderness. No power or phone lines along the highway, yet they come out of nowhere when a town or service area appears. The pullouts on the roadway have motor homes, campers, even tents where people just stop, setup and sleep. There is no liter along the road. The $1,000 fine, plus the respect for the environment seems to keep it clean.

I had asked some merchants back in Watson Lake where to breakfast on the road west to Whitehorse. They said not to stop at the first place over the bridge at Teslin, but go to the second one. I did, and after 4 miles found the place - it had burned down. So back I went and the place was crowded as the breakfast buffet was all-you-can-eat for $8 (Canadian). The food was very good, and re-enforced my inclination that you stop at the first place you see out here. The view from the roadway of Dawson Peak was quite nice, with clouds strung across the mountain top. I would get a good picture of it on the return trip. Meanwhile, one active concern for local businesses along the Alaskan Hwy was repairing tires, fixing broken windshields and towing disabled vehicles. This originated when the highway was first built and opened to non-military traffic in 1943, and seems not to have changed in 6 decades.

Eleven a.m. saw us arrive in sunny weather to the Capital of the Yukon, Whitehorse (pop. 22K). A snappy town with lots of tourist attractions, but I had only scheduled a visit to the salmon fishway on this leg. After the primary electricity producing dam was built on the Yukon river in the mid-1950's, the longest wood fish ladder, 366 meters long, was constructed so the salmon could continue along their 1860 mile journey from the Bering Sea to southern Yukon.

Keeping on schedule, we re-entered the Alaskan Hwy. Yo, major road construction. Places with no road. The legends were true, this is a hard trip. But we made Burwash Landing (pop. 100) which barely survived a forest fire 3 years ago. Its few buildings (one gas station where you had to ask permission to use the windshield squeegee), a restaurant, and the Kluane Museum of Natural History (Barbara got her Yukon passport stamped). Billed as the finest wildlife exhibit in the Yukon, with taxidermy animals set in a natural ecosystem, gems, First Nations' artifacts, and a gift shop. Barbara and I concurred it was first rate, spent an hour through it (alone as typical in these out of the way way way places). Then went for lunch at the lake side establishment where the burgers were also first rate. So was the view across the lake. I mean, it was amazing how good this all was for such a tiny place in the Yukon. The world is missing out. (see my montage)

Back on the road. Well no, there was no road at Burwash Landing, and no pilot car. Just dust, dirt, gravel, washer board ridges for 10's of kilometers and 20 mph. Yukon has THE worst roads I've ever driven on. Even the term roads is a misnomer. Try future roads. Construction vehicles, you know the ones: graders, dump trucks, shovels, with tires bigger than my SUV, some on tank tracks. These things have no shocks, travel anywhere, and did. The tourist and commercial trucks had to drive next to them. I mean next to, like 10 feet. No barriers, cones or lines to separate the men from the boys. It required real skills and concentration to see through the dust, avoid other vehicles, avoid holes, avoid flying gravel to the windshield, and look for stretches of ground that didn't rattle your teeth. So much so that I'm not sure I know what the Yukon looked like, having fixed my eyes on the road and the road hazards.

Finally we reached the Alaskan border, nearly 5,000 miles, and through Central Time, Mountain Time, Pacific Time and now Alaskan Time. I asked the U.S. Customs officer, "Since the posted speed limit in Alaska is 55 MPH, please tell me the road conditions are better than where I just left." He said "They're better." He lied.

Tok, shorten from Tokyo during WWII, is the first town (pop. 900) on the American side of the Alaskan Hwy (US 2). As a "gateway" city, and the intersection of US 1 and US 2, it had a half dozen motels, gas stations and two large restaurants. The speed limit was 35 mph, and we saw a police car giving a ticket. We ate dinner at Fast Eddy's, which had a diverse menu and fast service. We'd eat at the Gateway Salmon Bake on the return trip. It was a pleasure to pay $1.41, in American currency, for gas. The first motel we tried to stay in was full (tour buses) but the second was homey, with plenty of cars from the lower 48. The motels in Yukon and Alaska might have fans, but no air conditioning. No cable either in this remote place. So after 14.5 hours on the road, and eternal daylight, we had to open the windows (screened) and have the fan blowing until we cooled from the upper 70's and could fall asleep.

DAY 9 - 205 miles

July 6th was an exciting day, our first day in Alaska. And our first stop, early in the morning was Delta Junction (pop. 700). Delta Junction is the end of the line for the Alaskan Hwy, so I'll refer to it as US 2 from now on. I hate getting lost in such little places, but the information center was closed this early, so I got info from a gas station. She gave me a free cup of coffee and directions to the Trans-Alaska Pipeline (which in fact was right on the highway a bit further out of town). We saw the pipeline behind a high wire fence. A security guard was in the area. Many empty vehicles, some with trailers, were in the gravel lot which served as parking for a mobile home set up as a gift and sandwich shop to capture tourists. The people from the empty cars and trucks were probably camping or boating in the Delta River.

By 9 a.m. we got to the North Pole (pop. 1.6K) which is almost a suburb of Fairbanks, with the huge Fort Wainwright Army Base and Eielson AFB in between. It was Christmasy, and home to Santa Claus House on St. Nicholas Dr., a humongous store devoted to what else - Alaskan and Christmas everythings. We had breakfast at McDonalds, then went to the U.S. Post Office. The lobby and services weren't open til 10, so all I could do was have my picture taken, and have some postcards sent with a postmark from the North Pole. At latitude 65°N, we were only a few degrees from the Artic Circle.

We entered Fairbanks on an overcast Saturday morning. The inner city was quiet save for the tourist information center. A prominent placard reported the weather:

HIGH 68°	LOW 54°
SUNRISE 3:23A	SUNSET 12:26A	Daylight 21hrs

Fairbanks (pop. 31K, but reports a Borough the size of New Jersey with 84K) seemed like a college town, maybe a Chapel Hill, N.C. The University of Alaska campus was expansive and on a hill overlooking the town and distant mountains. I'm sure this contributes to the economy and workforce. There were bike paths, long stairs, and hilly roads to parking lots. I tried to imagine the campus in the dead of weather and concluded it would require stamina and maybe cross country skis. Otherwise the city was unremarkable, even a bit back waters. But I tried to play that to my advantage.

Sandy and I had purchased goose down winter coats in the early 1980's when I went to Madison WI to work. These coats are light weight, washable yet incredibly warm in the winter and serviceable in the warmer climates we have lived in more recently. Hers was losing feathers and a replacement was in order. But newer artificial hollow fibers are the rage, and are heavy, even if warm. Same with natural fleece. I figured in Fairbanks, even in July, I should be able to purchase a down coat.

Across the street from the information center was Big Ray's Army/Navy Store. They had everything for hunters, construction workers, oil riggers, railroad men, campers, etc. Their pre-eminent line was Carhartt. Another was RefrigiWear. But goose down products are only brought out in September, even in Alaska! We did come away with a booty of other small items.

After touring the city (which didn't take long), we picked a newly constructed motel on the west side of town, and asked the clerk to reserve us two seats on the Riverboat tour that afternoon, and two seats for dinner and a show in Ester, about 5 miles northwest.

Riverboat Discovery is a 3½ hr cruise which had to be one of the best parts of the whole trip. Fairbanks, and most of southeastern Alaska, had gotten record rain, the entire amount usually seen in the month of July in one week. Our luck held, and the afternoon trip was in sunshine, well an occasional cloud, but clear and comfortable in a light jacket on the outside 3rd deck of this authentic sternwheeler, front row.

The crew and tour guide/narrator were professional. They have the whole thing down pat. The boat was full from tourists in cars and many tour buses. They arrange for an Alaskan bush pilot to take off from a little strip by the river, buzz the boat and land. We heard stories of babies being born in such 2-seater planes out in the wilderness. The sternwheeler stops (but we don't disembark) next to the home and kennels of four time Iditarod champion Susan Butcher. We get a personal show of dogs, puppies, and the training grounds. She, and others we'll hear from off shore, use radio microphones which are piped directly into the ship's speakers. The acoustics are great, and the ship's narrator banty questions and quips.

The ride is smooth as we go down the Chena River, looking at the homes people have custom built on this prized real estate. A group of reindeer are herded into a fenced pen on the river side just for our entertainment. Boats are out fishing, and we see Nuchalawoya, an Athabascan (Native Alaska) term for the wedding of the rivers; in this case the Chena and Tanana. The blue water from the former, mixes in eddies with the glacier fed Tanana, which is brown from "glacial flour", or mica silt, which form the braided sloughs in the downstream river.

Our next stop along the Tanana River was to see and hear Dixie Alexander, a native Athabascan, whose beadwork and skinsewing have produced Indian clothing on permanent exhibit at the Smithsonian Institute in Washington D.C. This setting was of a traditional Athabascan fish camp. She cut, scored and hung a real salmon for drying, adding it to the hundreds already on poles and in smoking huts.

The boat turned around and we set foot onshore to spend time in a re-constructed Chena Indian Village. Those same reindeer were available for close inspection. Reindeer are domesticated caribou. We also got more of the mushers, with a member of the Butcher family making a team pull a sled on the dirt path. A dozen huskies, bred for thousands of years to love to pull and be comfortable in snow and bitter cold, were in a pen there for us to pet. Another area displayed a fur cache, having dozens of skins and pelts of nearly every animal in Alaska (moose, fox, caribou, bear but not polar bear, and more). Each area was hosted by a native Alaskan (Athabascan, Eskimo, Aleut and Tlingits) who generally was a college student home for the summer. Dixie was there too, showing her beadwork, explaining the cutting and tanning process, and having the younger girls model her ornamental parkas.

Free coffee and donuts had been available during the cruise, but now they brought out the big guns, and of course hoped you'd buy some too. It was Captain Jim's ocean-run red Alaskan salmon filets, smoked over alderwood. It was turned into a spread, adding only some cream cheese to the salmon, and served on wheat crackers. Barbara and I sat out on the desk, cruising up the Chena River in Fairbanks Alaska, eating this intensely delicious local product. I was completely relaxed, and as they say, life can't get no better.

Although the smoked salmon dip tasted heavenly, I was reluctant to buy it and take some home as things never taste as good at home. Have you ever enjoyed New Orleans beignets? Try cooking them at home. But I decided to risk one can. When I prepared it for Sandy, it was just as heavenly. Lick smacking good. We rationed it for 4 days as we loved the intense flavor of the cream cheese and lox spread, as well as eating some of the salmon straight out of the can. This was nothing like you get at a Jewish deli.

A drive through Alaska, a visit to the North Pole, and a riverboat cruise would normally be enough for one day, but we were only half done. After a brief return to the motel, we set out to find the Ester Gold Camp. Operating for 43 years as a hotel, restaurant, gift shop, theater and RV park, it is now a Registered Historic Place because these buildings date back to the gold rush. This night we planned to see the 6:45 p.m. showing of "Auroras: The Crown of Light's". Professional photographer LeRoy Zimmermann has dedicated his life to capturing the Northern Lights and has created a wide screen experience with music he calls a Photosymphony. We've all heard of the aurora borealis, but haven't actually seen it. Nor would we in the summer, especially as it never gets dark. But his images of them, with backdrops and other scenes in Alaska and Denali Park, were like the real thing (especially with the mosquitoes inside the 72 seat Aurorium).

After the show we walked over to the restaurant. Busy as hell, fans, no AC, long wooden tables for family style eating with an all you can eat buffet ($10 more if you wanted Dungeness crab, which we didn't but the 400 lb. folks next to us had apparently been there a long time and were still working on the legs). We were quite happy with the standard fare of biscuits, rice, corn-on-the-cob, salad bar (actually the salad was weak), baked beans, steamed halibut, fried chicken, and my favorite - reindeer stew. Plus apple cobbler for dessert.

The walk back to the SUV had us re-applying the mosquitoe repellent for the third time that day. But we didn't get bit. I've mentioned these "no-see-ums" often enough that I should tell you I overbought cans of Cutter before the trip. Despite heavy use, we never actually used up the first can, and after that day in Moose Jaw, never got bit. After I got home, I planned to mail my excess to relatives as part of their gift packages, but was reminded that the U.S. Post Office, especially now, doesn't take kindly to mailing flammable items. Here's what the wrapper looked like which I created for the cans.

This can of Backwoods CUTTER was taken to the Yukon and Alaska. It was tested on the fiercest, most ferocious mosquitoes on the planet, and found very satisfactory. Use it with confidence with our Seal of Approval. Ric and Barbara Dasheiff

DAY 10 - 0 miles

It was bright outside the Aspen Motel at 4:45 a.m. when we went down to try out their breakfast bar. You could make your own waffles, add strawberry toppings, plus toasted breads, cereal, coffee and juices. A construction crew from the lower 48 was there, and bused out to Ft. Wainwright to work on some special equipment. Our plans included making the 120 mile journey along US 3 to Denali National Park (and then back for a show).

I've been to a lot of National Parks, but none prepared me for this. This is a wilderness park for more experienced, or daring, people. There is no food service. We had to eat our cookies and snacks left in the car. There are the usual trail heads and park sponsored events. But private vehicles can only drive another 15 miles past the visitor center (and having got there early and parked in a prime spot, I wasn't going to move my car until the end of the day.) Thus, you needed to get on a park bus, most costing real money and taking 6-10 hrs round trip to get to the interior of the park and get a glance at Mt. McKinley. None fit our needs or time constraints.

We were able to get on a free bus to the first sled dog show. The park maintains its own kennels, and breeds and uses huskies to get around the park in the winter. We got to tour the pens, pet the dogs and see demonstrations during the 1-2 hour display. Barbara loved it, and was really into the dogs. The finale came with the dogs pulling a sled around a dirt trail. The lead dog saw a squirrel cross the road and followed it into the woods. The dogs and sled wiped out and were tangled in the trees.

Next we picked an easy trail to walk which took us down a mountainside. The cottonwood seed made the air like snow, a running brook, marshes and then Horseshoe Lake a mile later. Although dozens of people were going up and down this trail, mostly we were alone. We spotted a moose at the edge of the lake on the other side of a peninsula. The trail deteriorated from where we were but with care, and only getting a little wet fording a stream where the wooden plank bridge was sunk, we got to the island where we were 50 yards from the moose. I don't know about you, but this seemed like a real nature experience to me.

Back at the Visitor Center we viewed a movie, then got in our car to travel the park road. Halfway along there is a pull off, but the view of Mt. McKinley 60 miles away was fragmentary and unfulfilling. We reached the Savage River check point and briefly parked in the lot before turning back and leaving Denali. Despite the late afternoon hour, the overflow parking lots were empty. As opposed to Yellowstone or Yosemite, this National Park gets a fraction of the visitors.

We ate a good lunch outside the park in a cluster of restaurants, shops, and tour bus and tour helicopter bases. Got some good gifts, including some Alaskan birch syrup. Talking to the check out girl provided some helpful information. I was hoping I could take a different route back from Tok to Whitehorse,YT since that road sucked. The alternative was to take the Taylor Hwy (US 5) which starts just beyond Tok, and travels north past Chicken over gravel road to the Alaska/Yukon border. There, Canadian Hwy 9 (also called Top of the World Highway), would take us to Dawson City and the Klondike Hwy (TC-2) which looked equal to the Alaskan Hwy, and get us to Whitehorse. I reasoned how much worse could it be than what I just drove on? Our young clerk told me she drove to Fairbanks just last month and had planned to take the Top of the World route, but the roads were washed out. As for taking gravel roads seriously, she had attempted to drive from Fairbanks to Prudhoe Bay along Hwy 11 which parallels the Alaskan pipeline and is the furtherest road north in the world (remember, Alaskans are an adventurous lot). The road is used almost exclusively by the oil industry, and there are amazing tales from truckers using it in the Artic winter. The gravel was so large and sharp she blew two tires. At that moment I decided to keep to my plans of re-using the Alaskan Hwy.

We were back in Fairbanks in plenty of time to make the 9 p.m. showing of "Service with a Smile" at the Malemute Saloon in Ester Gold Camp. A talented cast from the surrounding Tanana Valley sang, danced, played string instruments and best, read the poetry of Robert Service, the Bard of the Yukon. It was a hoot. The saloon had swinging doors (which let in the mosquitoes as well as people). We had assigned seats near the front at small round tables which sat four, on a sawdust floor where peanut shells and spilled beer mixed. Waitresses in costume were happy to bring drinks and spirits (like an ice worm cocktail) or Sam McGee's Cremation Specialties (like sluice box coffee, hot apple pie). The poetry was given seriously and dramatically, and the evening melted away in rapture having this performed where it all happened.

The Cremation of Sam McGee

There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold...

There's a race of men that don't fit in...

I wanted the gold, and I sought it...

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon...

DAY 11 - 351 miles

Down Hwy 3 again, past the Denali Park entrance, paralleling the Alaska Railroad, and enjoying great scenery. The highway is just outside the park, and there is a north and south pull out for viewing the tallest mountain (20,320 feet) in North America. Even at the 14,500 foot level, winter temperatures can be -95°F and wind gusts of 150 mph. Denali Viewpoint South proved the best, with a few cars already parked. We could see and photograph McKinley up a valley with a broad glacier fed river and up to the snow and ice peak. Even with my telephoto lens, my picture isn't worth showing, pales in comparison to the professional shots taken in winter by helicopter or plane. Truth is, Mt. McKinley isn't accessible or viewable like Washington's (Seattle) Mt. Rainer, or Colorado Spring's Pike's Peak. But we saw it in person, so that's that.

Continuing down George Parks Hwy we hit road construction 60 miles north of Anchorage almost as bad as what we had in the Yukon. However, we made it to cosmopolitan Anchorage (pop. 226K, which is 30% of the whole state) by 12:40 p.m. and checked into one of the cheapest motels I could find which was AAA rated ($100 was half to a third most others during this peak tourist season). It was across from the community airport, Merrill Field, on the north side of town, and just east of downtown. It was cloudy again, but we set off for the Alaska Zoo after a Chinese buffet. My expectations were high, and I was disappointed. A nice crowd for the middle of a Monday, almost all locals. Since I don't get to Anchorage very often I was glad I went. The Anchorage Museum of History and Art was a AAA GEM attraction, and the temporary exhibit on John Hoover's woodwork collection alone was worth the price of admission. Here's two examples, a scanned postcard and a web image, plus see the links above. The scope, size, and in some cases mobility of the work require a personal visit. The museum on the whole was at the Smithsonian level: art, history, archaeology, children's gallery, shops and cafe, all Alaska, extensive and huge displays, details about the pipeline, military and civilian presence, and the Native people. I would come back several times to get all they had to offer as 2 hours was insufficient.

You'd think Anchorage would have tons of restaurants selling cheap Alaska King Crab legs. I went to a fancy restaurant (Simon & Seaforts). Fancy means: downtown, in an office building, good view of Cook Inlet, 3-stars by AAA, and overpriced. We left and found our way to Phyllis's Cafe & Salmon Bake, an outdoor cafe in the heart of downtown. It was busy, and the price of my King Crab legs was reasonable (but not the outrageously cheap you'd expect when buying lobsters in Maine). Nevertheless, it was sunny and comfortable (at 9 p.m.), seagulls were about and we felt good. We walked up and down Main Street with the other tourists, all buying gifts and eating as the shops stayed open in the midnight sun. Huge hanging baskets, with a lower bowl of the state's deep blue Forget-Me-Nots and topped with yellow flowers, made a festival atmosphere. A scoop of ice cream at Moose á la Mode completed the evening.

DAY 12 - 320 miles

Today, July 9, 2002, I celebrated my 51th birthday by being in Alaska.

The Alaska Native Heritage Center was east of town and next to Elmendorf AFB. Actually the base caps the entire north and east of Anchorage. Alaska is primarily military bases, with the cities thrown in for the relatives, and tourism. The Center is another AAA GEM, and we immersed ourselves in Native culture for 3½ hours. Excellent movies, live singing and dancing, skills exhibits, and the outdoors re-creations of 5 village sites around a lake, representing the eleven major different cultures in Alaska. Everything was staffed by Native Alaskans, and Barbara especially liked the story telling session and the dancing. The reindeer sausage for lunch was good too.

Don't let this short description suggest this was only a minor part of our trip. Some things are easy to describe by just cataloging the activities or events. This Center practically allows you to live and mingle with the people of Alaska, like going abroad to Europe. We came away with a richer appreciation of their life, past and present. The past was incredibly hard, whether Iñupiaq in the frigid Artic, or Eyak in the southeastern moderate rain forests, survival was a daily requirement. The Russians, then Americans, came and enslaved them, tried to convert them to Christianity, and killed them with their diseases. This was terrible, but an inevitable consequence of one technically superior culture contacting another. Now in transition, the wounds are healing and traditions are being saved (and the best transmitted to all of us). None of the Native Alaskans we met wanted to go back to the old times. Modern housing, health care, abundance of food, and many of our cultural aspects are welcome. Centers like this one will help educate the average American about their past, and help bring the best parts into our future.

80 miles out of Anchorage on US 1 is Palmer, Alaska where, it is said, is the only domestication project of Musk Ox. Potentially a resource for elementary schools, scout troops and the occasional tourist. The underwool of the ox, called qiviut, is finer than wool and warmer too. Clothing was available to buy at designer prices. We could see the musk ox from the parking lot, and declined further observation from a fenced in area as the admission fee wasn't trivial.

The drive along the Glenn Hwy was beautiful. The Matanuska glacier is a mile from the road and we pulled off for pictures. All the way up to Glennallen had views of mountains, streams, forest, with passable road. Occasionally a sign informed us the road was not flat (a picture of a "w" or wave). Barbara didn't slow down enough in one section, and despite wearing our seat belts, we bounced completely out of our seats, nearly hitting our heads.

By 7 p.m. we arrived at Tok, and for the first time in the trip, had come someplace for the second time. We checked in at the motel which was full the previous visit, and went to the other restaurant (Gateway Salmon Bake) for dinner. You pay outside while they grill up your dinner, then eat in or out with family style seating and all the trimmings. Barbara's Buffalo burger was good according to her. I wanted BBQ grilled reindeer, but they insisted reindeer could only be prepared in sausage. I was sure I'd eaten Caribou appetizer and Elk steaks in Jackson Hole, WY. And what about that reindeer stew in Ester, AK. What I got was grilled reindeer sausage, grilled halibut and grill salmon. It was good enough.

But their accusations bothered me, and once home I surfed the net to find: Alaskan Gourmet Seafoods, 1020 International Airport Rd., Anchorage, AK 99518; sells reindeer steaks, cut from very lean loins of domesticated caribou, raised on the western plains of Alaska.

According to Robert Robel, a Kansas State University professor of environmental biology, reindeer are an extremely important commercial animal in Europe, and they're cultured just like beef. In a Scandinavian country for dinner, instead of ordering a hamburger off the menu, you might find yourself eating a reindeer burger. They have reindeer farms in Finland, Norway and Sweden where they're actually bred for faster growth just like cattle. Any animal with commercial value will never become an endangered species (are cattle?). You can go into a restaurant in many of the European countries and find reindeer casseroles, reindeer hamburgers, reindeer chops and reindeer steaks.

So here we are in a newly constructed motel in Tok, and no air-conditioning (again) at $100/night. None in Anchorage (but was in Fairbanks). Granted, it's never this warm this far north. Maybe electricity is really expensive out here.

DAY 13 - 388 miles

We're back crossing the Alaskan/Canadian border. The Canadian customs is actually set back 35 klicks in Beaver Creek. Not much terrorism coming through, and having my passport and Barbara's photo id, birth certificate, and a notarized letter from Sandy saying she isn't being abducted (not actually worded as such) got us through in one minute, with compliments from customs. We ate Breakfast there. Beaver Creek has the distinction of being the most westerly city (pop. 30?) in Canada.

Now that we're back in Yukon I see too many road signs alerting us to damaged road. This translates into earthquake: vertical displacement, holes, debris. My SUV was seriously dirty. Front coated in bugs; side and back coated in mud; the license plate couldn't be read; and the door handles were too filthy to touch. We were backtracking over hundreds of miles of the Alaskan Hwy which I've already traveled. If this were a war, we'd be violating the prime dictum of not wanting to re-take enemy territory. And a suggestion to the highway department, they could save money if they didn't put out all those signs and flags for road damage and just put out the few telling us where the road is ok.

I was happy to finally see Whitehorse and checked in to the "other" Westmark, the 1st one being full. We immediately reserved seats at the first of two showings of the Frantic Follies, then had lunch at Boston Pizza. My door handle situation bothered me, so I filled the ice bucket from my room with water, and went to my car in the motel's parking lot to wash them. An employee who was washing the doors and curbside stopped me. Was I stealing the ice bucket? I explained and he volunteered I use his power hose. Whoa, I started to cut the dirt right off the license plate and one side of the Durango. But then a clerk and manager came out, demanding I stop, no washing cars in their parking lot, I could go to a commercial car wash if I wanted. Then they chewed out the first employee. Well, I got it somewhat cleaned.

Whitehorse has plenty of attractions like Fairbanks. In fact, both had riverboat rides and Gold Rush shows, and I had planned on seeing both in both places. But the Fairbanks riverboat ride just seemed like it couldn't be topped, so we opted just for the Follies. And we weren't disappointed. This was vaudeville, and the Robert Service poetry was either read comically, or done as a hilarious skit. The Cremation of Sam McGee, and The Ballad of the Ice-Worm Cocktail {To Dawson Town came Percy Brown from London on the Thames.} were especially good. Another skit about Yukon boredom brought tears of laughter. They also sang and danced and told rude jokes, making especial use of persons in the audience as foils. I was amazed how good Pachelbel's Canon by Bach sounded on 3 handsaws, bass and piano.

DAY 14 - 615 miles

Plans today were to drive 600 miles over grueling Alaska Hwy, get past Watson Lake and on to new territory, and bed in Ft. Nelson. The usual early 6 a.m. start gives me the road to myself. Towards Teslin the road is good, and unspoiled lakes abut mountains with an apron of trees lost at the top by clouds. The early morning chill causes wisps of fog to roll down and onto the water. The sun is still behind clouds. Barbara is asleep, breakfast is still 30 minutes away, and serene is the world.

We're stopped at a construction site 13 miles south of Watson Lake, waiting for a pilot car which will be 15 minutes. The mosquitoes are fierce, and after talking with the signal girl, I turn off the engine and leave the windows up. When it's time to go, the engine wont crank. A two year, original battery, dead? Time for another sick feeling in the stomach. No one will jump it, but the signal girl says one of the mechanics on the crew will drive up and help. Another 15 minutes and he arrives and we successfully turn it over. But as soon as it idles and the RPMs drop to 500 it craps out. So it's another problem and the sick feeling won't leave. I keep my foot on the accelerator even as I back up and turn around, using the brake. I drive back to Watson Lake without letting the rpm's get below 500 and head right for Bee Jay's. The mechanic, about late 50's, diagnoses the IAC valve. But the NAPA dealer across the street doesn't carry the part for such a new vehicle. Could get it in in 2-3 days. In addition to what that does to my schedule, we've done everything you could do in Watson Lake already.

We eat lunch and the mechanic disconnects the idle air controller from the car's computer and tells me to drive it around town, which I do without problem. So the option is to drive 1000 klicks to Fort St. John (the closest Dodge dealership) and get the part there. Uncomfortable that it's really safe (as we're talking 2 day drive) but aware the revised part schedule was they got it on the delivery truck to Watson Lake, and this being Thursday afternoon, it gets in Friday night and I get it in the Durango Saturday. Versus I drive to Ft. Nelson today, sleep over and continue to Fort St. John on a Friday (a work day). I chose to drive. Now I had to settle up. I paid the shop $40 labor for the mechanics time. I also had to give the mechanic $20 cash (actually used a traveler's check) for the NAPA store to ship the part back, and another $20 for re-stocking fee.

The day was turned upside down. I thought I'd get no pleasure from the upcoming scenery on Hwy 97 (Alaskan Hwy). Certainly edgy when I got back to the construction site again, and waited again. However, the signal girl knew Fort St. John and told me exactly where the Dodge dealership was located. I drove 100 miles and thought the car was ok. I then let Barbara drive another 100 miles through hard mountain passes. She learned about gears versus brakes on the down hills. A black bear was 50 feet from the roadside (and folks had stopped and were out of their cars taking pictures - bears can run 40 mph! are these people nuts?) Further along, the left side of the road climbs straight up the mountainside, and the right drops off just as steep. No guard rails here. A sheep is standing off on the right, and down the drop off such that only his head is even with the road surface. We round a turn and an antlered caribou is trotting along the right side. We slow, but with no place for either of us to go, he races along side my window for 100 yards. We stop, he stops. Face to face (through window). Then we go and he stays. Owls and other predatory birds were in the air, gorges were carved with those braided rivers. This stretch had some of the most impressive wildlife and mountain scenery of the trip.

Of course we always need gas, and thus human presence. We stopped in Fireside, used the latrine (yeah a wood shack with a hole), and got the most expensive gas of the trip at 95¢/L (Canadian). We got hosed twice, but give him his due, he was performing a service someplace where few would be or live. Since we have been back in Canada, I was paying for EVERYTHING with traveler's checks or cash. When we got into Ft. Nelson, B.C. (pop. 4.4K) I was afraid to stop the car, and made sure I parked with the engine (battery) towards the road.

DAY 15 - 647 miles

Try as I might, the earliest I could get out of Ft. Nelson was 5:50 a.m. I can't say the trip to Fort St. John (pop. 15K) was uneventful as ubiquitous road construction, even right before town, continued to delay me and I worried. I had hypothesized that the IAC valve shorted out, thus killing my battery temporarily, but the only problem was the IAC. The dealership service manager agreed and put in a new one without charging for labor (after hearing my Watson Lake story). The part however was $140. And while in their lot, I noticed a nail in my front tire. Will it ever end? I drove to a Goodyear tire store and had them look at it. He pulled it out and it was a short metal wire, angled and not causing any damage. I tipped him a toonie ($2 Canadian coin) and went for gas and lunch at the Safeway supermarket.

Dawson Creek (pop. 11K), and Mile Zero of the Alaskan Highway. The visitor center was crowded and we watched an hour movie on the history and construction of the longest road in the world (1400 miles), costing $115 million U.S. in 1942, and completed in two seasons. The inspiration of this trip. Stuff of legends and fanatics. A newspaper has existed since 1949 The Milepost® to keep people up to date on every detail of the highway and its towns. There are other papers and publications as well.

The idea of a road through Canada to Alaska was proposed in the mid-1800's by railroad tycoons. Studies were made, routes planned. The U.S. Congress was asked to take it up, and dutifully they twice sent it to committee (we know what happens there). The economics just weren't there. But when it looked like Japan might invade Alaska, THEN it became a military problem. All the routes previously planned meant nothing, the road would follow the airbases which were already in place. Canada was cajoled to agree by only having to provide the land, we'd pay for it and supply the labor. Sixty days after the War (whenever that was to be), the Canadian portion would revert to the Canadian military. This wasn't to be a civilian road until a few years after the War.

The Army Corp of Engineers was asked to perform an 8th wonder of the world by making a serviceable (to military traffic) pioneer road along 1500 miles of wilderness in 8 months. The soldiers suffered from heat, mosquitoes and primitive living conditions. In the winter, -70° weather causes fuel to freeze (so engines ran continuously) and bridges to be pulled apart by moving ice and terrain. When it re-warmed the roads disappeared into the permafrost. 33,000 soldiers busted ass up there. The Americans often engaged in projects without notifying the Canadian government, like constructing 7 landing fields, a pipeline from Skagway to Watson Lake, and a major road from Fort Nelson to Norman Wells.

In 1943, the American Public Roads Administration moved in to improve, widen and straighten the pioneer military road. Fatalities occurred from capsized rafts, truck rollovers, vehicles falling through the ice, and hypothermia as men fell asleep in their unheated trucks. A dynamite truck with 5-tons of caps and casings leveled a city block in Dawson Creek. The PRA subcontracted with Canadian and American construction companies for the job. Canada assumed ownership April 1946 and later put the burden on upgrading the highway to the Provinces. The work continues as I can personally attest. But I can say that anyone who wants to claim to be a road warrior must earn their medal on the Alaskan Highway.

From Dawson Creek it was a driving pleasure to switch over to Canadian Hwy 43 which would take me to Edmonton. We went through Grande Prairie and happened on a gas station which was in the middle of a radio station promotion. We got 11 liters of gas free, plus Pizza Hut bread sticks and soda. I also got lost leaving the station (heck, 31,000 people is a huge city from where I'd just come from.)

Alberta farm country presented some dazzling fields of yellow. This was canola. You know, Canola oil. It's a hard crop on the land, takes out nutrients, puts back nothing, even when tilled under. But finally we view the modern skyline of Edmonton (pop. 616K), like Calgary and Midwestern American cities. There were plenty of motels, so I let Barbara pick, so long as we were near the Edmonton Mall. She picked the Executive Royal Inn because it was "executive" and had a free computer in the lobby for her to catch up on her email (which she did). The down side was it didn't have a laundry machine onsite like all the others we had stayed at (executives send out). We had to do clothes tomorrow.

DAY 16 - 0 miles

I got directions to the closest laundromat and arrived on this sunny, unusually warm Saturday at 8:45 a.m., only to find the posted hours 10 a.m. - 5 p.m. At that moment, a white haired elderly woman on a bicycle was riding into the strip mall's parking lot and I waved her down. "Do you know where there is a laundromat which is open this early." She answered in a thick Belgium accent, "Sure right here, I'll open it right now." She was the proprietor. "But", I exclaimed, "the hours say it doesn't open til 10." And showed her the sign. Surprised she replied, "Well that's what it says, but I'm here and it opens at 9." She was very friendly and advised which machines to use, and to use two dryers to speed the work. I was out shortly after 10, which is when the Mall opens (I presume).

I have little idea what Edmonton looks like, as Barbara and I and maybe 10,000 others spent the day (and night) in the largest mall in the World. Built in four Phases, the West Edmonton Mall has 800 shops, and is so big 56 stores have two locations (McDonald's has 3) for people who can't or won't walk the distance. It covers 170th through 178th streets. Your first time there leaves you with your mouth open. Two levels, an ice skating rink, two movie theatres and an Imax. Sounds like the Dallas Galleria so far. But it also has an amusement park with a full size roller coaster, an aquarium and deep sea adventure park with submarine rides and a full scale pirate ship, and water world - an unbelievably huge indoor ocean/wave machine/water slides/beach.

We had lunch at one of the two mammoth food courts, then went to the underground aquarium to see fish swimming in an underground ocean, plus penguins and a pair of dolphins which also perform daily for the entire Mall. Excuse my use of superlatives, but this Mall was bigger than most of the cities we had been in the last 2 weeks. Conversely it was quite a contrast to walking about Denali National Park.

We saw Men in Black II at the Famous Players SilverCity Theatre complex. The lobby had full scale models of planes and props hanging from the ceiling, larger than life movie props of Yoda, Batman, etc. And at the center was a 60 foot dragon which every 15 minutes breathed flames and the entire lobby felt intense heat. Afterwards we headed to one of the other Las Vegas style theme areas - Europe (mostly retail stores) and Bourbon Street (mostly restaurants) where we had dinner. The jambalaya was a poor imitation, more like Spanish rice, but Barbara devoured her steak with brown gravy.

This seemed the best and last hope of my quest for a down coat. Hudson Bay and Sears (of Canada) say they get them in the Fall. They had some nice winterwear, but I knew Sandy ONLY wanted goose down. We spent time at the Sears catalog office, looking at the Fall/Winter and last year's catalog, hoping to identify a coat with something other than the new multifiber (hollow like polar bear fur) material. No luck. All toll we were at the Mall 10:30 a.m. to 8:30 p.m.

DAY 17 - 512 miles

I came into Edmonton on Hwy 43. Now at 6 a.m. Sunday I could drive through the heart of downtown to see a bit, and continue on TC-16 (Yellowhead) to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. Dual lane interprovince roads are generally well kept and the driving allows me to concentrate on the scenery. I note that tiny Maidstone, Saskatchewan (pop. ?) has a canola festival, with an 18 foot sculpture of this rapeweed plant, south side of TC-16 in the middle of town.

Saskatoon (pop. 162K) is the designated city for another AAA GEM - Wanuskewin Heritage Park. In fact it's quite a bit out of the city and took some trouble to find (and later to get back on the main road). As usual, only a few cars in their lot, but a bus leaves the city daily to get locals (or tourists) out to the site, and they showed up later. This is another project for preserving and presenting the native plains people and animals, with an active archeologic dig site at the center (but unavailable to us). The city has a University, and considering everything, reminded me of Lubbock, TX.

We saw the movie, took time on the trails, toured the art gallery and visited the gift shop. Lunch was interesting - buffalo stew and bannock (Indian bread). But mostly we enjoyed the interactive main exhibit area. Furs, tepees, animals and tools were displayed as complements to half a dozen computer stations, all running the same excellent program. Touch screens took you through detailed parts of the environment and culture of the Plains Indians. Barbara and I easily spent 40 minutes on this alone. I wished they sold the CD in the gift shop. Somehow we spent 3 hours at the Park. A couple hours drive down Hwy 11 got us to Regina (pop. 181K) where we got dinner and a motel on the zippy east side of town.

DAY 18 - 549 miles

The car ordeal had put us hours behind schedule, but spending a full day in Edmonton instead of a half really put us over the top. Nevertheless, I wasn't prepared to cut anything short, and had built in an extra day for emergencies. Regina is the birthplace and home of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, so you would expect their Museum to be first rate. Although AAA didn't rate it, I was determined to see it.

We were there first thing in the morning. Actually we were the only people in the museum when it opened. We stuck to the museum and skipped the tours of the chapel and academy. The grounds are quite large, and include their forensic lab, administration and academy. The Mounties are legendary, and started in the 1800's to effect law and order in the Northwest Territories. Setting up Forts and transporting supplies was on the order of building the Alaskan Highway. The Museum showed their clothing changes through the years, their contributions to World Wars and conflicts in India. It was certainly as good as some of the GEMs, and the gift shop produced some great buys. I'm proud to introduce you to one of the newest cadets.

The drive south on Hwy 6 would take us to Corinne. There we transferred to Hwy 39 which would cross the border and become US 52. Again we were traveling through the Canadian breadbasket, only this time there were fields of yellow, green and BLUE. I've never seen more colorful farm land. A gas station attendant confirmed the blue was flax. Here's a comparison of canola and flax.

The common flax (Linum usitatissimum) and its cultivars are grown commercially for fibre, oil and seed production. They are tough, drought-tolerant plants that enjoy cool weather, perfect for Canada. It reaches a height of 3-4 ft and bears five-petal blue, or sometimes white, blossoms on a single stem. Its Latin name means the "most useful". The Flax Council of Canada advises that flaxseed (because of its high oil content) may be used to replace oil or shortening in a recipe. There is more nutritional value in ground flaxseed than in whole because it is easier to digest, and unlike wheat, flaxseed does not contain gluten. However, unripe flaxseed is toxic and should not be eaten.

Whole flaxseed, and flaxseed oil, can be bought at health food stores and drugstores. A source of fibre for linen fabric since ancient times, the slender flax plant also boasts a long history as a healing herb. First cultivated in Europe, the plant's brown seeds were regularly used to prepare balms for inflamed skin and healing slurries for constipation. Today, flaxseeds (also called linseeds) are best known for the therapeutic oil that is derived by pressing them. Rich in essential fatty acids, flaxseed oil has earned a reputation for treating a range of ailments, from heart disease to lupus. Note possible side effects: ground flaxseeds may produce some initial flatulence, but this won't last long. [right, because you'll stop taking it]

Estevan (pop. 11K) appeared just before we got to the border. It's a major coal and oil producer, converting it to electricity. The landscape is raw during the active surface digging with huge, huge shovels. Other parts have been reclaimed and are now covered with grass and crops. However, the landscape is still bizarre and artificial, with many hills, valleys and lakes left over from the dumping and dredging of dirt and coal onto a previous flat plains.

Customs was at something called North Portal, one of the entrances to North Dakota. As opposed to our three other crossings, this was different. A long line of cars, SUVs, trailers, and mobile homes formed at one gate; commercial trucks at another. Every car was met by a customs officer who had us pull into a lot, leave the car and enter an administration building and present our papers while the car was searched, suitcases opened, and under the seats checked. We had to repack a suit case and repack our cargo area to fit our belongings to their original positions.

Back in the U.S., it seems North Dakota grows some canola, and definitely has road construction, dirt roads, pilot cars and delays. Eventually we got to Minot, switched to Hwy 83 (a decent dual highway) and entered Bismark during a heat wave where it was 100°F at 6 p.m. After a brief stop we went due east on I-94, expecting good road. Wrong. They were busy tearing this up as well, and the construction right in and around Fargo at the I-94 / I-29 intersection was horrendous - no road, detours. This complicated getting to the cluster of motels at this site, but we did it by 8:30 p.m.

DAY 19 - 1144 miles, 18½ hrs

This was the day I was supposed to get home. If you look at a map, or even if you don't, you know Fargo is at the top of the country, and Dallas near the bottom. What with road construction, I didn't know if we'd make it, but we tried. So out at 4:40 a.m. to retrace our route through Sioux Falls, Sioux City, and Council Bluff/Omaha. Here's where I had decided I wouldn't take Hwy 75 back to Topeka, and stayed on I-29. Longer but maybe shorter timewise. And certainly new scenery for me to look at.

We passed from Iowa to Missouri, and near St. Joseph I saw a billboard for Smokin' Joe's BB'Q. I got off at exit 53 and asked a construction worker right on the exit ramp where it was, as the sign was a bit ambiguous. He pointed to the left, said he'd eaten there and it was good. Left was Savanah, MO, and 6 miles later at one of their gas stations I inquired where this place was. Seems it used to be in Savannah but moved to St. Joseph. Back 6 miles, across the Interstate and 2 miles further I went past it before I could stop. I had hopes it would be good as it was only BBQ, and near Kansas City which has a good reputation for ribs. I was lucky, and it was worth the 16 mile detour. The cole slaw was good and sweet, the ribs fell off the bones and the sauce was excellent. The baked beans were thick, tangy and had chucks of meat - award winning. Barbara wolfed down a delicious Hickory Burger. I'd definitely go back, and rank it very high for pork ribs.

The trip finished up going through Kansas City, Emporia, Wichita, OKC and Dallas.

EPILOGUE

Back home I had some priorities, like getting 4 tires on the Durango and changing the oil after 10,000 miles (I had added a quart during the trip and changed the air filter). Washing it was a major effort, requiring steel wool on the headlights and bumpers to remove the bugs. I also had to spray and physically clean the radiator, both sides.

I was ripe with Traveler's checks. The American ones would be used here, but the Canadian checks had to be converted. AAA in Dallas would only agree to convert the exact ones they sold me (only $60 worth). I had to go to the American Express office in the Galleria to get both sets handled. Of course I lost another $35 in conversion fees.

Then there was the MasterCard issue. Home, but the card still hadn't arrived. Canadian mail is notorious for being slow, However, the postcards had all arrived. We waited, and finally a few days later the cut up MC showed up. Sandy had called MasterCard several times during my trip, to check if unauthorized uses were occurring (they weren't) and was told we could keep the card number active. However, when I called to ask for a replacement, I was told the card had to be canceled, period. Thus, standing accounts which automatically deduct from the card (like for my Juno internet account, or Federal pharmacy) were dead until I received a new card AND number in the mail a week later.

Good luck getting the GST back. They have several different Forms from different agencies and companies, usually in the same display with travel and motel brochures. They make it easy. Submit your original motel bills to them and they will calculate what amount of Goods and Services Tax you get back. Food and gas aren't eligible for refund, but big ticket items, like jewelry, cameras, or a winter coat would be. As a non-Canadian, I get back 100%. Of course they charge a fee for the service (15% or minimum $9 American). Then there is the arbitrary international exchange rate, and handling & postage. I figure I might see $20 on the $62 GST from my motels. We'll see. In how many months?