Day 10 -- Top of the World Highway

June 28, 2014

Finally, the day had come that we had so anticipated.  The day our tires were due to arrive.  We awoke early, and Jason paced for hours anxiously. 

The clock hands hit ten o’clock and no tires had arrived.  Jason was becoming impatient, nervous.  

Then, the mechanic at the tire shop announced that he would go home in just a few hours.  Jason started frantically trying to call the freight driver. 

Jason decided that he might be able to cross the ferry faster than a truck and trailer.  He left Catrina with a two way radio, and headed across the Yukon River.  Catrina spent her morning doing chores and packing the campsite, in hopes that we would be able to leave that afternoon.  Jason waited for the ferry and then raced up the hill looking for the freight driver.

Soon Jason retrieved the tires, paid the driver for delivery, and returned to the tire shop.  He arrived back to the camp in time, before the mechanic had left for the weekend

The owner and the mechanic began carefully putting the two tires on the wheels. 

By 1:00, we were sitting in line at the George Black Ferry waiting impatiently to get on the road again. 

Yet, we were also incredibly thrilled to be moving again even if that wasn’t until 2:15 pm.

  

The Top of the World Highway is not a completely paved route.  The rain had packed the road, leaving the route neither dusty nor muddy, with the occasional washboard.  The weather was clear from horizon to horizon.  Much like the road into Dawson City, there was little signs of humanity in front of or behind us.   There were potholes, but without a person in sight, Jason weaved expertly around them.  There would be seventy nine miles of this winding gravel road until it junctions with the Taylor Highway in Alaska. 

Words to describe such sweeping beauty from horizon to horizon have never been invented.  We held our breaths as we came to the top of each hill in anticipation of each view being more beautiful than the last.  And there were miles and miles of this beautiful breathlessness.

A rabbit hopped across the road in front of us, tripping over his own furry snow boots for feet.   

We paused briefly at a rest area.  The remains of a cabin sat on the top of the ridge, originally a supply and stopping place for McCormick Transportation Co.  Here, we paused for a brief few minutes and spoke to another Texan.  He warned about construction just on the opposite side of the border.  Construction that we had hoped to avoid.  

A ptarmigan raced down the road beside us, eventually deciding not to attempt to cross the road in front of our car and turned back toward the ditch.  Our first sighting of the state bird of Alaska.   

The road winds up the crests of the hills, above the tree line, as we watched the shadows of clouds drift across the valleys.  During the winter, this route is a perilous impossibility.  During the summer, this route becomes quite the bicyclist’s accomplishment.  We paused to chat with a woman pushing a bicycle, as she attempted to catch her breath, and we promised to walk to the Top of the Top of the World Highway.  The stop also filled the car with the smell of a roast, cooking in the slow cooker in the trunk.  

We fulfilled our promise and stopped at the point of highest elevation.  Jason hiked, while Catrina limped, to the cairn at the top of the mountain.  A mere 4,515 feet in elevation there are many viewpoints that dwarf this spot, but it was still an exhilarating hike surrounded by mile after mile of the summer tundra.  We spotted a bumble bee weaving around the delicate tundra flora.  Here, we could clearly see customs and the border to Alaska.  

The border crossing was uneventful as the agent welcomed us home.  Having spent a few days stranded on foreign soil, it really did feel like a homecoming as we crossed into Alaska and over another date line at 3:58 Alaskan time. 

We paused for a picture at the remains of the Boundary Roadhouse, one of the first roadhouses in Alaska, dating back to, at least, 1926.  

After the border, we began to hit the construction.  The road became rougher.  

At the Jack Wade Junction, we turned onto the Taylor Highway headed toward Chicken, AK.  The roadway follows beside Jack Wade Creek for seven miles as it narrows and winds through the beginnings of Alaska, offering soft shoulders and deep drop-offs.  At one point, the recent rains had water flowing over the gravel road.

We made a brief stop at six o’clock at the Goldpanner in Chicken, AK.  We re-filled for 4.79 per gallon.  Legend says that the residents had wanted to name the town ptarmigan, after the state bird, but no one knew how to spell the word.  So they settled for Chicken instead.  Here, we could have taken another tour of a dredge, the Pedro Dredge No. 4, or we could have mined for gold.  We, instead, made use of their real restrooms, snapped some pictures, and crossed the Mosquito Fork on our way out of town. 

We spotted Taylor Mountain, elevation 5,059 feet, on the horizon.  

We stopped next at the Mount Fairplay Wayside recreation area to eat a portion of our roast and potatoes cooking in the crockpot.  We set up the card table, arranged our bag chairs, and sat in the empty parking lot for our dinner.  Not one car drove by, and in every direction, the world appeared abandoned, as we set at the foot of Mount Fairplay (elevation 5,541 feet), minus the large swarms of insects.  We hurried through our meal, eager to escape massacre by mosquito. 

The next section of road was marred by the remains of wildfires.  Tall charred sticks reaching into the blue sky from the fuchsia fireweed.  In 2004, the Taylor Complex fires burned 1.3 million acres.  We watched the tops of the black remains of trees in hopes that we might catch a glimpse of a Northern Hawk Owl, one of the few owls to hunt during the daylight.  We saw several clumps of vegetation from a distance that raised brows, but no owls.  However, a fox crossed in front of our car, with our camera triggers being too slow yet again. 

Before we entered Tok, AK., we stopped at the old Tanana River Bridge.  The platform and walkway sit on the abutment of the old bridge.  Built in 1943, the old Tanana River bridge was a three-span cantilevered subdivide Warren steel through truss bridge.  It replaced the temporary wooden structure built by the U.S. Army in 1942, one of 133 bridges constructed on the Alcan Highway.  It was critical for the transport of troops and supplies to the North.  It was replaced in 2010 by the current concrete Girder style bridge, as the old bridge limited supply trucks due to vertical clearance.

Finally, we arrived in Tok, Alaska.  Here, we re-filled our tank for 4.16/gallon.  We turned onto the Tok cut-off or better known as the Glenn Highway as we headed toward Valdez.  

Not long out of Tok, about 9:00 at night, we spotted a rainbow rising out of the valley.  We joked about the gold at the end of the rainbow, referencing the local gold mining.  

As we were talking and joking, Jason spotted a moose in a pond near the opposing side of the road.  We watched her munch on pond scum, and shake off a few mosquitos before continuing on. 

On the horizon, we began to see the Wrangell Mountain Range to our east, catching sight of first Mount Sanford (elevation 16,237) on the other side of the Slana River.  Mount Sanford was covered with an incredible amount of snow.  

We crossed over the Slana River and it began to weave its way through the valley underneath the shadow of the dormant volcano. 

Within the banks of the Slana River, Catrina spotted an entire family of moose, complete with a Mama Moose, a Papa Moose, and Baby Moose, quite a distance away from the road.  

(Above) Mount Sanford sits on the left,  Capitol Mountain can be seen on the west lower slopes. Mount Jarvis is the prominent one at an elevation of 13,421 feet.  

The above buttresses are of Tanada Peak (elevation 9,240). 

Above is Mount Blackburn
(16,390 feet); To the right is another shot of Tanada.

Jason spotted a female moose, who immediately turned so that all we could photograph was her rear end. 

We crossed the Chistochina River at 10:57 as the sun went down, making the waters sparkle. 

This large bull grew agitated as we followed him along the side of the road snapping pictures.  He didn't seem to appreciate our appreciation. 

Above are photos of Mount Drum (elevation 12,010) on the horizon. 

We crossed the Gakona River. Gakona is Athabascan for Rabbit.

At the Gulkona Junction, we headed south on the Richardson Highway toward Gulkana and later Valdez.

 With Mount Wrangell (elevation 14,162), Mount Drum, and Mount Sanford on the distant horizon, we took a small side road off of the main road and hunkered down for a short rest before morning.