Way Up North

Go North, the rush is on

In a whirlwind decision that was simultaneously last minute and long anticipated, we loaded the truck up with a week's worth of snacks and everything we owned and headed north. Chasing a risky travel nurse assignment, we were finally - hastily, excitedly - making the long drive to Alaska, ISO bears, and mountains, and togetherness. And, spoiler alert, we found all of that and more.

Thanks in equal parts to a facebook page moderated by a crochety old Yukoner, late night anxiety, and The Milepost, I had planned every major stop along our 2400 mile route before we even backed out of the driveway.

Bellingham, WA > Williams Lake, BC > Dawson Creek, BC > Toad River, BC > Whitehorse, YT > Tok, AK > Anchorage, AK

The Long Road

Our road trip days were filled with sour punch straws, turkey sandwiches, 90s country (conveniently the only playlist I had downloaded), and bears. So. Many. Bears. Nights were spent staying in remote cabins (some from the sketchier side of airbnb), and filled with bright, midnight sunshine. Shep learned every word to Chattahoochee and made priceless childhood memories like fishing with sour patch kids as bait (as luck would have it, fish prefer worms).

Camping along the Alcan is allowed anywhere, but given the booming bear population and the swarms of biting black flies, we opted to sleep behind *actual walls*. Dotted along the highway every 150 miles or so are old timey gas stations - which are like well-preserved relics from the 70's with abhorrent and confusing prices, but some of the friendliest people on planet earth. Also, at least one gas station attendant is a fat, grey house cat.

It probably goes without saying that the wildlife and scenery were spectacular (I'm looking at you, Haines Junction). But surprisingly, the best part of this drive was becoming part of a unique community of people crossing paths in the remote north. Somewhere in the Yukon, Shep jumped fully clothed into a frigid lake, and swam with a group of sweet kids. In Tok we met a California beach bum who came to see Alaska in the 60's and then NEVER LEFT after his car broke down. A Yukon family gifted us an "Alaska or Bust" sticker after seeing it written in the dust on the back window of the truck. We shared our lunch with a lone biker riding his motorcycle completely across Canada. He asked to take a picture with Cam and said that his favorite memories are of the people he meets. Us too.

It's Got Mountains, It's Got rivers

(Ten points if you sang that title)

After driving across icy blue waters and under towering Canadian peaks, crossing into Alaska was actually rather *anticlimactic*. Honestly, first impressions are important and this one was disappointing. I guess I expected a bald eagle to fly down and chase a grizzly bear over a glacier (or something). Instead, the road conditions and mosquitoes somehow worsened and, notably, there was a complete lack of trash receptacles after the border. 'Merica.

I don't know if I was just tired or hangry (or both) that day, but I'm happy to report that the drive through Alaska did continue to get better and better and better - until we were completely consumed by its vast beauty. Unbelievably massive mountains just *appeared*, out of what seemed like nowhere. Glaciers too. In fact, the further we drove into the last frontier, the more we realized that it might be hard to drive back.

Alaska is alive.

And so are we.