Completion of the Circle - Anchorage to Watson Lake

Aug 19 to 27, 2007


It was back into sunshine and warmth again. We whipped through Anchorage only stopping for a Costco fix. That store continues to give me a high – it’s an addiction and I always buy something I didn’t plan on. This time it was a sweater, underwear, and jeans for Fernie.


Glaciers in Alaska are much like cathedrals in Europe or kangaroos in Australia – they sooner or later become ‘ho-hum’ with the vast numbers you encounter. Along the Glenn Highway east to Glenallen and the Richardson Highway south to Valdez, so many magnificent glaciers materialized that I stopped grabbing my camera and yelling ‘pull over so I can get a picture’. The dramatic countryside is absolutely stunning though and changeable too which makes it so much more intriguing.

The only thing I knew about Valdez prior to our visit was the Exxon Valdez oil spill back in the 1980’s but I’d read that the drive down was stunning. We boondocked a couple of nights on the way to Valdez in private and quiet spots – so much more enjoyable than campsites. There’s never a shortage in Alaska of beautiful places to stay the night, by a lake, or a stream or in the woods. Gas is a lot higher now that we’re away from the busy, civilized area near Anchorage. It soared in price from $2.89/US gallon to $3.50/US gallon in Valdez. But that’s the only real cost in travelling the way we do so we don’t complain and just pay the bill.


On Good Friday 1964 a major earthquake with a 9.2 magnitude struck Prince William Sound, 45 miles from Valdez. The damage was widespread – Anchorage had major damage; Seward was severely hit; but the town of Valdez was totally wiped out. The town was rebuilt four miles along the road from the original site, which remains a solemn graveyard of bare foundations, fragments of pilings in a morass of swamp. A rusty old forklift stands alone like a sentinel in the centre of reeds and grasses. It’s a very sombre memorial to all those who died. Exacerbating the solemn mood, several creeks empty through the area and thousands of salmon had spawned and died or were in the process of dying – flapping and gyrating with no rhyme or reason. The stench of the rotting flesh was awful but that wasn’t what drove us away – it was because we felt such extreme sadness at the cruelty of nature.


Valdez (pronounced Vald-eez, I found out) had another disaster on another Good Friday in 1989. You’d think they’d be a bit superstitious of Good Friday. The oil tanker Exxon Valdez, hit the rocks at Bligh Point (named after Captain Bligh of the Bounty) and the oil spill fouled the coastline for miles – the worst maritime oil spill in history. It took millions of dollars and years to clean up but it appears today as if sea life is plentiful and healthy – sea lions, harbour seals, sea otters, sea birds, salmon, halibut and shellfish are prolific.


Unlike Whittier, which is situated just west in Prince William Sound, Valdez is a lively hamlet of about 4,000 people with the feel of a cohesive community. Valdez’ harbour is much wider and so I didn’t get the claustrophobic feeling that I did in Whittier. However, it also gets socked in with low clouds and mist. Fishing is everything here – large barracks of dormitories sit alongside the harbourfront for the fishermen when they come home from the sea. I talked to Judy, a 60ish woman who hailed from Minnesota and moved to Alaska in 1972. “I’d never leave” she stated “we get anywhere from 25 to 40 feet of snow in the winter and we only get a few hours of daylight, but I LOVE it here” she continued. It takes a certain personality to live in such a remote place.


We pulled into a city run campground right on the oceanfront at Allison Point across the bay from the town. This is where the Alaska pipeline ends and large oil tanks and freighter terminals are situated just a bit further along the coast. It’s wonderful to have a beautiful vista of the sea and mountains but I hate how the other RV’s are so close to us. I guess we’re used to our boondocking lifestyle.

Last night was terrible – the family in the motorhome next to us were yelling and screaming and starting their motor to keep warm until about 2am and then were up again to go fishing at 5am making just as much noise. I love my boondocking – do you see why?


Autumn started one day unexpectedly with one yellow leaf on an alder; next day, we saw leaves blowing in the wind and then each day it would progress - subtly at first then with a vengeance. When the top of the fireweed blooms, it’s the end of the summer – so we were told. Today, at the heights of the Glenn Highway, the fireweed had completed blooming and already faded – summer is obviously over.




We arrived back at Tok at the crossroads, completing the Alaska circle and as we did on our last visit to there, we again fuelled, washed Maggie and the Honda, dumped and watered and did our laundry. Three hours and all was done - good for another week.


We had been warned about the bad condition of the Alaska Highway between Tok, Alaska and Haines Junction, Yukon (a 300 mile stretch) so were prepared for a slow, rattling journey. There were some gravel stretches, but not too long and on the Canadian side mostly, terrific frost heaves with the highway rolling in waves but it wasn’t half as bad as we expected so we rolled along quite merrily. We were back again to the wilds with little civilization and we did enjoy that. Overall, we found Alaska just too damned busy – too many people, too much traffic, too much litter. The Yukon on the other hand seemed unspoiled.


Just southeast of Destruction Bay, we spotted a large animal crossing the road not far ahead of us and we sped up to get a good look. Wow! It was a huge grizzly that just made it to the side of the road as we approached and slowed Maggie to a stop. It was a large chocolate brown bear and he (she?) ambled alongside the highway, just behind the shrubs nibbling as she (he?) went. It was only about 75 feet from us and was totally undaunted by our proximity. I was absolutely thrilled.

We spied a bevy of glistening white swans (yes, that’s right – it’s not a flock; I checked with the World Almanac for Children) in flight, barely skimming the treetops and just below several more of the graceful creatures glided across the mirror-surfaced pond as if on ice skates.

A second visit to Whitehorse and we went down to Miles Canyon hiking for some geocaches. The wide and jade green Yukon River narrows and forges through the picturesque gorge. A walking bridge straddles the chasm and on the other side, miles of trails follow the cliffs and banks of the river. As we rambled along the narrow cliff side path, a boat chock full of grey-haired Holland America tourists chugged upstream towards the gorge. They waved and gestured madly at us as if we were wild animals endemic to the Yukon. “Look Harry, there’s some of those Yukon folks!” I like to think we looked fit and outdoorsy with our poles and backpacks. “See Harry, they stay in awful good condition up here in the north”.

Fernie phoned an old work associate who used to be the terminal manager of Canadian Freightways, Whitehorse before his early retirement about 4 years ago. His wife has COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease) and is connected to oxygen 24 hours a day, trailing transparent tubing throughout their mobile home or pushing a cart with her oxygen bottle when she goes out. They invited us over to visit them that evening and I looked forward to some social interaction. They are approximately our age but her illness curtails the freedom that we are so lucky to enjoy. Life in Whitehorse is very different from ours in Vancouver. The city has a population of only 31,000 and the winters are long, cold, snowy and dark. I think one needs youth or good health to enjoy the winter activities and I wondered why this couple stay there now that they are retired.

The sunshine continues! We have been so fortunate with weather on this trip. Only 109 miles south of Whitehorse through the scenic White Pass lies Skagway, a popular cruise ship terminal. The road was smoothly paved and the sky was cloudless but as we approached the summit, the clouds enveloped us in a thick murky fog. The White Pass and Yukon narrow gauge railway traverses the same route through the pass with carloads of cruisers. The fog diminished as we descended but the sky remained cloudy only breaking every so often but it never cleared. Light showers and dampness prevailed. I do not like this damp weather while travelling.


The glacially-carved landscape was picturesque in a moonscape sort of way but sunshine would have displayed its true beauty. There were several geocaches along the way and one near the summit at the Canada/US border. That one required some rock clambering over some slippery boulders but the view was worth it.

There was no apparent boondocking in the vicinity of Skagway so we pulled in to an RV park right on the waterfront at the wharves where the cruise ships dock. The Zaandam and the Pacific Princess were in on Saturday creating a chaos of shoppers in the touristy town streets. A surfeit of jewellery stores and the usual grotesque souvenir shops lined the quaint roads. The ships sailed late that evening and it was lovely to watch them through our front window. Next morning two more ships were in – a Carnival one and a Regent Seven Seas one – didn’t bother to check them out but instead hit the road before an expected caravan of RVer’s hit town. Blue sky was peeking through the early morning mist and by the time we crossed the pass we were back in full sunshine.


We intended to stay at Mukluk Annie’s, just outside Teslin again but were so surprised when big signs and blockades announced ‘Closed for the season’. Gee whiz! It’s only August 26th. So instead we pulled into an RV park beside the lake with wifi and hookups. It was a good one. “So, what did you do in Teslin?” you might ask. Not surprisingly, I’d answer “We geocached”. There were only two and the second one was 1.5 miles off road up a steep gravel hill. A pickup blocked the road a short way in and a group of native youths were drinking and carousing around it – 2pm Sunday afternoon. We didn’t want a confrontation and so backed up out of there.

A beautiful bright orange harvest moon rose from the eastern sky and cast its radiant light over the serene lake. But the temperature dipped very low – close to freezing. The air was crystal clear but the bright moonlight made the stars faint. About 11:30pm, the northern sky started to glow over the lake and green and reddish toned Aurora Borealis radiated and whirled, the shapes changing like a kaleidoscope. I was rapt and opened the window wide but the blast of cold that hit my face made me shut it pretty quickly. It was lovely.

There was a heavy dew this morning – maybe frost melting; it was dripping from the roof of the motorhome. The sun was brilliant but the wind was cold; it was like a sunny winter day in Vancouver.


Watson Lake, a grubby rundown town full of tough-looking inhabitants, was where we settled Maggie for the night. Its one claim to fame is the Signpost Forest - there are 54,000+ signs brought by travellers passing through - signs from their hometowns or countries, home-made signs, license plates; a fascinating place to while a way some time. The sunshine continued but the cold breeze warned that summer was over. Businesses were boarded up and signs announced “closed for the season” and “winter hours in effect” and its only Aug 27th. There seems to be no boondocking along this Yukon stretch of the Alaska Highway so we checked in to the city-run campground on the outskirts of town. It is a pleasant treed area with widely spaced spots – oh, and free wifi and for only $10 (off season rate).

Tonight, we expect the lunar eclipse and it’s a crystal clear night so perfect for viewing it. However, I don’t know if I’ll be awake at 2am to see it. Maybe I’ll see the Northern Lights though.

We’ve completed the full circle of the Yukon and Alaska with our arrival in Watson Lake. Now, it’s on towards Fernie’s hometown of Dawson Creek, his birthplace Spirit River and Edmonton before we head for home.