Adios Alaska

Editor’s note:  With apologies to our readers who prefer Firefox to Windows Internet Explorer, I’ve run out of patience to go through the numerous “fiddle & republish” cycles needed to display photos correctly.  Explorer does it right the first time, so I’m leaving it at that.  I haven’t tried viewing the results in other browsers, as there are so few readers who use them.  So, if you want to see what we posted and in the form we wanted you to see it, (imagine a pained expression on my face) use “Explorer” to view this blog.

It was another rainy and overcast day when we departed Skagway but at least the trip up the big hill was much less stressful because visibility was much improved.  It rained most of the way to Teslin which was a one-night stop-over for us. To keep us from getting complacent the coach developed yet another quirk – a bay door kept popping open and we eventually lost a set of jumper cables and a small air compressor before Howie bungeed the door closed and convinced it to remain so. 

But into each life some sunshine must fall.  The refrigerator self-repaired as we bounced down the highway and by the time we got to Watson Lake we were able to buy a few perishables and enjoy a meal that didn’t come straight from a can.  Russ and Rochelle caught up with us in Watson Lake, having taken the Top of the World Highway where they enjoyed themselves enormously and even encountered some latter-day banditos of the Klondike variety.

The weather had improved  by the time we headed down the Cassiar Highway, a 450 mile stretch that connects the Alaska Highway with the Yellowhead through a pretty remote area of British Columbia.  The first 50 miles or so of the highway is in pretty rough condition and we sustained another ding in the coach’s windshield thanks to a semi that was flying down the road.  Most of the truckers were very considerate of oncoming traffic, slowing down and hugging the shoulder, but not this hot shot – he was just intent on getting someplace in a big hurry.  And, it wouldn’t surprise us if some take a perverse pleasure in punishing the RVers who have the temerity to use their roads.

The weather turned sour again as we neared the turn-off onto Route 37A which leads to Stewart (BC) and Hyder (AK), a pair of dinky towns famous for their bear population.  The road leads past Bear Glacier (how did they ever come up with that name?) where there were several pull-offs for those inclined to admire the glacier.  It continued to rain during the night and was not any better in the morning but we came to Hyder to see bears and off we went to see them.  The Forest Service has developed a boardwalk along Fish Creek where folks can congregate in relative safety and watch the bears fishing in the creek.  We saw one black bear, or at least the top of his head, but he wasn’t fishing, he was eating berries, stoking up for the oncoming winter.  There were quite a few eagles and gulls enjoying what remained of the spawning salmon.

The three intrepid bear watchers dropped me off back at the coach and set off late in the afternoon for another shot of bear watching and a trip to Salmon Glacier.  By this time I’d had it right up to here with cold damp weather and was looking forward to a quiet afternoon with some hot chocolate and a good book.  The three intrepids saw several more bears at Fish Creek, including grizzlies, and went to the tippy-top of the glacier.  It was nearly dark when they finally returned, happy as larks with their big adventure.  I was even happier without it.  

Once we got back on the Cassiar Highway, the weather improved a great deal and we saw a number of bears along the road; black bears with cubs and even a handsome grizzly with a combination of cinnamon and dark brown coat.  And that’s when we saw a too-dumb-to-live tourist driving a – you guessed it: Call 1-800-RV4-RENT – who had gotten out of his vehicle and was approaching the grizzly across the highway, camera in hand.  The bear shot him a look of total contempt and melted into the roadside shrubbery.  There’s no shortage of stupid!  We didn’t get a shot of the grizzly, but Rochelle did capture this fellow who didn’t feel like using one of the clearly designated bear crossings

Just before the Cassiar meets the Yellowhead is the Native town of Gitwangak with a fine display of authentic totem poles.  The town also boasts  this picturesque Anglican church and it’s adjacent bell tower.  The town itself seemed deserted, a few cars rolled in and out during our brief stay but no dogs barked, no doors slammed, just complete silence.  It was a bit eerie.

With the Labor Day holiday weekend approaching we were fortunate to find a very helpful person at the Houston (BC) visitors center who secured us campsites in Vanderhoof, even though it wasn’t quite as far as we’d planned to go that day.  But we had a pretty spot to get off the road for the holiday and we decided to stick around an extra day.  Russ and Rochelle had reservations back in the States and so had to hit the road after just one evening. 

And sometimes inexplicable things happen.  Since Dave’s RV Park was so pretty and had all the amenities one could hope for, Howie emailed Bill and Caroline to tell them about it.   We thought they were a day or two behind us.  Bill didn’t read the email but he did make the long hard drive from Hyder to Vanderhoof in one day and they did select Dave’s as the place to stay.  And so we were reunited and made the trip back to the Lower 48 with them, just as we’d started out the adventure so many weeks before.  The final day’s drive was exhausting for both driver and white-knuckle passenger.  The road follows first the twists and turns of the Thompson River and then the twists and turns of the Frazer River, always with rugged magnificent scenery to enjoy. 

To celebrate our last night of the adventure, the four of us went out to dinner in Chilliwack and the meal was a metaphor for the entire trip, with some high points and low points but with good companions with which to share the experience.