COOPER DISCOVERER – NC to Canada and AK... with the Father-In-Law

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It all started in Lake Panosfkee, FL over a few cold ones back in December. The family had gathered at a bass fishing lodge owned by a friend to fellowship in the New Year. My father-in-law and I were talking about road trips. In his 68 years he has been on quite a few. I shared my dream of making it all the way to Prudhoe Bay. In fact, my Dad and I always wanted to do that trip together. Dad passed away in 2011, so the mission was not complete, and in fact, never started.

After some more musing, he said he wanted to make that trip with me. Of course I was all in. On the drive back to NC, much to my surprise, my wife endorsed the idea and thought it would actually fit nicely in the schedule. School would be out in early June and we could make the trip and meet her, our three kids, and the rest of the family at their annual family reunion in Shreveport, LA. North Carolina to Alaska and back, via Shreveport. Sure, it could be done. My loving wife thought the trip was perfectly sane, but the crazy part was my willingness to spend that much time with her father! I agreed on both counts and set off planning.

Father-in-law despises air travel, so he could take Amtrak from Hammond, LA to Champaign, IL. I could collect him there, and we would drive as far as we could, and then turn around to be back in Shreveport on June 16. Departure from North Carolina was set for Memorial Day.

We would be driving my 2003 Ford F-150 with a Leer topper and CVT Mt. McKinley rooftop tent. We carried 35 gallons of water, all the cooking equipment needed, and an Indel-B 50L fridge powered by a second battery in a National Luna Power Pack.

About an hour before sunlight on May 30, I kissed the wife and kids goodbye and set off for Illinois. After staying at a state park about 25 miles from Champaign I was able to meet father-in-law at the Amtrak station and we headed north. The first night for the two of us was notable for two things. It was the coldest of the trip with a wicked wind coming across Lake Carlos, MN. Second, it was my 68-year old father-in-law’s first experience climbing in and out of a roof top tent. After getting the hang of it, I was relieved he could handle the ladder and the tent could handle is 6’4” frame.

The miles rolled by as we passed through Fargo and Minot, ND. The border crossing at North Portal into Saskatchewan was uneventful. A night in the very small hamlet of Aylesbury, SK was pleasant as well as the push on into Alberta.

I’m an agricultural guy and my father-in-law is retired from the oil industry. The result is we had plenty to talk about in Saskatchewan and Alberta. The size and scope of the wheat fields of the prairie is hard to describe until you see it. The economy looks to be propped up by agriculture and oil and gas throughout the region. It may not be exciting to some, but for the two of us, it was oddly familiar yet altogether new and strange.








Whitecourt, AB was the jumping off place for the Alaskan Highway. Like many nights, our campsite was either in a provincial park or an RV park. The showers were nice but the real reason came from one of many hilarious quotes from the father-in-law. When I asked if he wanted to wild camp, his reply was “I think it’s better if the bears have choices.” It was hard to argue with the logic.

 

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Part Two

Many on these forums have ridden the Alaskan Highway. While some or all of this may not be news, I’ll hazard a few observations of the Alcan. The condition of the highway is fine, although the rough patches caused by frost heaves have to be respected. As it turns out, I drove every mile of the trip. While not a control-freak thing, my reason for doing so was that the outer limits of my father-in-law’s mechanical ability are probably somewhere around changing lightbulbs. Knowing which of the two of us would be repairing any cut tires, yours truly wanted to be the one who did the cutting. When you spend every hour of three weeks with someone, domestic tranquility should be preserved.


The wide right-of-way for the Alcan is like a salad bar for wildlife. Bison, bears, caribou, moose, stone sheep, elk, and all kinds of smaller game find the grazing there better than the adjoining trees. If you want to see game in the North, just slow down and look. It’ll be there.


Another observation is that the people along the highways of the North, both native and transient, are a real joy. The dollars brought by motorists are seasonal and big for the small communities. You tend to see the same people travelling the highway, especially if you are on the front side of the season as we were. I think we saw the same retired Navy Master Chief from San Diego at least 6 times. Stops at places like the Cinnamon Bun Center of the Galactic Cluster (Tetsa River Lodge) are just plain fun. I never considered my Southern accent to be so noticeable, but in places like Kluane Lake, opening my mouth seemed to be a ticket to questions and even more conversation. If you go, enjoy the people because they genuinely want to enjoy you.









At Whitehorse, we took a right and continued north to do the Klondike Loop and spend some time in Dawson City, YT. I recommend Dawson to anyone. We didn’t do the shows at Gertie’s but we did hit as many local watering holes as possible. No, we did not do the Sourtoe Cocktail, but I need a reason to go back and that is as good as any. The 24 hours of light (with a couple of hours of twilight) is a little strange. Another quote from father-in-law after leaving a local establishment at 11:30 pm was “It’s just doesn’t seem right to be getting drunk in broad daylight!” Truly spoken like an Episcopalian raised Southern Baptist. Dawson really is a charming town and gave me the unique opportunity to cook what I’m convinced was the most northerly pot of grits in the world on the day we left town.








Two days in Dawson allowed for fun, sightseeing, laundry, and rest. It also set us up for the Top of the World Highway. The road follows the ridgetops on the Canadian side and affords some beautiful panoramic views. Approaching the customs checkpoint with nary a settlement in sight, I couldn’t help thinking how someone gets assigned duty at the most northerly land border crossing in the US. Are they local, did they ask for it, or did they just send the wrong email to the wrong supervisor? In any case, I appreciate the US Customs officer checking our documents and truck and then saying “Welcome home, gentlemen.”


Chicken, AK is a fine place to pass through, although it takes some effort to get there. Father-in-law’s observation was that the economy of Chicken is based on a few hardscrabble gold mines and t-shirt sales. We gladly contributed on the t-shirt side. Later that day as we were stopped near Tok, AK for road construction, the flagman explained that his snowmobile club makes an annual trek to Dawson along the entire length of the Top of the World Highway. He stated there are around 200 snowmobiles which make the trip, which means it’s not that bad being number one through fifty in line, but pretty miserable being number 190. I’ll just have to take his word for it.

 

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Part Three

During the planning phases, it became apparent that making Prudhoe was too much of a grind for a three-week trip. It didn’t seem worth it to drive hard past so many great sights just to say you made it to Prudhoe. So, our time in Alaska was actually pretty short. We went to Tok, turned back down the Alcan and made a side trip into Skagway. The drive into Skagway was one of the highlights of the trip and also afforded us the opportunity for our only supper in a restaurant while we watched the NBA Finals. Skagway exists on cruise ships. With thousands of tourists getting off a boat every few hours and with dollars to spend, it’s clear Skagway has come a long way from being the jumping-off point for the Klondike gold fields. The history of the White Pass is gruesome and you can’t help feeling it as you climb 3,000 or so feet in just a few miles pulling away from town. Gold fever makes desperate men try some desperate things.

Back on the Alcan, we turned south at Watson Lake for the trip down the Stewart-Hyder Highway. No cell phones and fewer gas pumps than you can count on one hand was fantastic. People have asked me how the trip was and I usually tell them it was like driving thousands of miles through a national park. The western side of British Columbia fits that description. Yes, we could have ventured off to Telegraph Creek, or maybe Hyder. We didn’t because we had too much fun where we were. Plus, you need a reason (however flimsy) to go back, don’t you?



Getting back on the Yellowhead Highway and heading southeast across British Columbia afforded a little more civilization than we had seen in a couple of weeks. It also pointed us toward Jasper National Park and the Icefields Parkway.

When asked my favorite part of the trip, I usually tell folks that there are a host of number twos. There was the Alcan, Dawson City, Top of the World, Kluane Lake, Cody, WY, etc. But there was one clear, jaw-dropping spectacular place and that was Jasper National Park. The mountains cut by glaciers, the azure water, the hike up to the Athabasca Glacier, and the sheer majesty of it all added up to one great experience. Cameras don’t do it justice. Simply put, I can’t wait to go back.



From Banff, our road headed south for one more night in Canada before heading back into the US. At the border, the Customs officer heard me speak and I got the familiar “Where are you from?” I told him “Southern Canada” and asked him where he was from. He just belly laughed and bid us “Welcome home” before waiving us through.

Cutting across Montana for a night at Cody was pretty uneventful. However, Cody, WY is a charming place and the Buffalo Bill Museum of the American West is a must see. The gun collection and art gallery ought to be enough to make it great. I guess they thought that wasn’t enough so they also have sections for Plains Indians, Natural History, and of course, Buffalo Bill. We could’ve spent more than a day there, but we pressed on.

Folks like us from the east coast hear all about Yellowstone, the Rockies, Montana, and Utah. But seldom mentioned are the Bighorns and Black Hills. That’s a shame because those two areas are an extended vacation of gorgeous sights and culture all their own. Custer State Park in South Dakota is a real gem and the wildlife loop gives you chance to imagine what the West used to look like when you see the park’s 1,300 head of bison herd grazing the hills. My father-in-law had never seen Rushmore, so that is the reason for the detour into this area. We saw Rushmore, and while it should not be diminished, it was eclipsed by the Bighorns, Black Hills, and Badlands National Park. The landscapes are grand and surreal all at the same time.





Heading south for our date with the family reunion in Louisiana, we passed through the Sand Hills of Nebraska and western Kansas. For all the remoteness of the North, I swear we encountered fewer people in the Sand Hills than anywhere else. The rain had been abundant so it was a cattlemen’s paradise. I can only imagine how stark it is in a dry year.

Our final night before Shreveport was in the Palo Duro Canyon. They bill it as the largest canyon in the US outside of Grand Canyon. Whether that is the case or not, I cannot say. But I can say it is a magical place, especially at sunset and sunrise. The colors of the canyon walls change by the minute and all you have to do is sit and gawk at the grandeur. Palo Duro also played a large role in the Comanche Indian wars of the late 1800s. Quanah Parker used to camp there with his band and was chased out once by the US Cavalry. Quanah is one of the most fascinating Americans who ever lived and I would recommend anyone with an interest in history to read up on his life and exploits.

So, on June 16 we rolled into Shreveport. A common question from the extended family to me and the father-in-law was “How did y’all get along?” Our pre-planned response was “I’d rather not talk about it.” Actually, we got along fabulously. The road, camping, and cooking together for almost three weeks has a way of softening the edges and making you appreciate the other if you let it. Would I go with him again? Absolutely.



After a weekend of family reunion, the drive back home to North Carolina was uneventful. It’s a road I’ve driven many times and I’ve enjoyed each one.

The truck and the equipment performed flawlessly. We only ate out a few times and mostly it was for a big breakfast. We slept in the tent every night. I don’t recall eating a full lunch on the whole trip. A big breakfast and supper is really all we needed with some cheese, crackers, and summer sausage to fill in the gaps. People ask if this was a trip of a lifetime. I certainly hope not! There is too much to see in this great country and our neighboring country to north to make it a one and done deal. I want to go back and would leave tomorrow if I could.

Thanks for reading and strike out to those faraway places if you can. You won’t regret it. Maybe even take your father-in-law as you might find you enjoy the company!

 

[mwaltd]

Great write up! Now I have goal of most northern-ly cooked grits to attain

 

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That should be an annual competition! I'll go ahead and claim the Most Northerly Pot of Grits 2016 trophy. Good luck in 2017!