akhyx8!

I have now driven the Alaska Highway eight (8) times!! Wow! Granted, I left the highway in Tok, short of its finish in Delta Junction, but still, 1,247.7 miles is not to be sneezed at. //Since I'm a couple days behind in the Trip Chronicle, I'll start back in Muncho Lake, British Columbia, on Saturday morning. Waking to a sky vaguely sunny sky, that blank white expanse that means snow is in the area, I consumed a whopping (for me) breakfast of eggs, bacon, potatoes, fresh fruit (a luxury in the far north), and delicious Swiss twist bread. With the gas tank topped off, and sun gleaming off the eastern face of the mountains to my west, Miss Scarlett purred off. Snow shower #1 barely dampened the pavement. Then followed a period of brilliant sun and snow showers #2 and 3. The black objects ahead resolved themselves into three sets of two Wood Bison and two herds of Wood Bison. About 50-60 animals all told. A re-introduced species, these behemoths graze in the wide swath of wild grasses at either side of the road. They are very healthy, if one considers the evidence of their previous...er...passing. //Watson Lake offered a chance to top off the gas tank, to recycle morning coffee, and to get another cup. Things passed uneventfully--in once more brilliant sun--past Fox Creek, Porcupine Creek, Partridge Creek, Smart River, and Swift River. When I crossed Deadman Creek, I stopped pondering the naming! After a brief stop in Teslin--after crossing that awful bridge...more metal decking that not only makes the tires feel flat but bounces at the junction of each of the seven spans--I sailed into Whitehorse. I'd been playing leap-frog with an Alaska-plated SUV since about Watson Lake; they turned off at the Whitehorse City Centre exit, too. This intersection had the first stop light I'd seen since Prince George, B.C., 1,109 miles ago! //And then the day started to go downhill. Saturday night's kind-of-restless sleep under my belt, I started out Sunday morning in more of that blank, white, snow-filled sky. I'd checked at the hotel's front desk; they said snow showers just out of town, and an area of snow near Beaver Creek. I stopped for gas, and the bank card that had been working fine, with an occasional double-swipe being necessary, now required attendant help, but it worked. By the time I reached Haines Junction, the sun shone (again) brilliantly. Still just below freezing, the air was fresh, the puddles crunchy, and not a cloud sullied the sky. That Alaska-plated SUV took to the road at the same time, had sped off, and was last seen pulling back into a gas station, with a wave from the driver, in Haines Junction. Now, apart from a road-services pickup, I was the only car on the road. I did see two mountain sheep at the south end of Lake Kluane, but apart from that, no humans. Hey, Sunday morning in the Yukon Territory is a slow morning. // The sign warned that the road from Burwash Landing to the border was bad. Well, I knew that. Subsidence, cracks, humps, dips. About all you can muster for speed for this 105-mile stretch is 45 mph. I finished my apple about the time two hands were required to grip the wheel, and about the time greyish cloud ahead descended to ground level. Snow started. Since I was well past the last warm place in which to shelter, and since the plows had cleared the road, I continued. Then the road maintenance responsibility section changed from Destruction Bay to Beaver Creek, and the shoulders narrowed. Previously salted and sanded, the road was now snow-covered. Soon 2-3 inches deep. Still coming down heavily. Eeee. A plow passed me from the north, but there was no evidence of its having plowed anything. //At this point I don't know which took over: sheer determination or sheer stupidity! Honestly, to stop would have been a really dangerous idea, so I figured that I'd keep moving (at 35-40 mph) as long as I could. A van was about a mile in front of me, two semi's and a U-Haul truck passed going south, so I talked myself through the storm saying, "If a U-Haul truck can do it, so can I." After about 80 miles of gripping the wheel and talking to myself, the snowfall lessened, the tracks of the van in front became more visible, and by the time I reached Beaver Creek (about 15 miles shy of the border), the sun was back out, the pavement merely wet, and the "traffic" even less. And I figured out why the woman in the Alaska-plated SUV waved to me back in Haines Junction. Not greeting, but warning. //Continuing the downhill motion (the one bright spot being the cheerful customs guy who practically waved me back into the U.S.), the stop in Tok for check-in at the motel revealed that my bank card froze the computer system at the motel. Now, I've stayed there before, and it doesn't take much to freeze their system, but still. The guy was really snotty about it, so since it was only 2:00, I cancelled the reservation, called Gail in Anchorage (only 5.5 hours away) and said, "I'm coming in." //The Tok Cutoff is interminable. It seams through the Mentasta Mountains, a sub-range of the Alaska Range, then seams through the Alaska Range, then jounces across a whole bunch of not much (but beautiful) for 139 miles. You find yourself looking for those mile markers, hoping that single digits will appear on them. I crept through Glenallen at the posted speeds, and then cruised along a little (OK, a lot) faster when the road opened up again. At least until the Glenallen Highway Patrol pulled me over. I'd forgotten about the policing near Glenallen. When he asked if I had a reason for going so fast, I had to agree with him that yes, I had a reason, but no, it wasn't a good one. It was my first speeding ticket in 52 years of driving. And it cost about what the motel stay, supper, and breakfast would have, so it was kind of a wash. And a good reminder about concentrating on driving instead of thinking about...well, whatever it was I was thinking about. //And I still made it to Anchorage at 7:30 p.m. An 11-hour stretch of driving, which is still amazingly good time. //So, the road trip is done. I'm in Alaska, sorting out the laundry, taking a day to get my head out of the car. I'll mail the postcards, mail in the check for the ticket, and get on with the week. I may even take a nap!