I think today is the second day with no rain in the last two weeks. I keep getting told how unusual this is, but it’s still keeping me from working on my property. The runoff avoided a couple of the culverts and eroded big holes. We need to get the excavator back out there to redo some of the road before I can even bring materials to make my cabin. We have the sawmill available, but cannot put it in place to cut lumber. It’s all held up by the damaged driveway.

Another blockage to progress has reared its not so ugly head. The person who knows how to operate the excavator and sawmill has been called back to work. He hauls diesel fuel up to Deadhorse on Prudhoe Bay to keep vehicles moving on the oilfields. When oil prices dropped they shut down some of the operations, but now prices have come back enough that they won’t lose money by working so they need fuel again. He’s back to work, running loads north from Fairbanks and coming back for more. I got to ride with him on a trip last week.

We got started in the evening. My friend had just returned from a trip to Valdez and back, bringing a load of a different fuel up. He took a break and fueled up his truck. His daughter gave me a ride into town with a stop at Walmart for some snacks and drinks. We had to wait for his buddy to arrive and fuel up so it was about 11pm when they went to fill the tankers with their loads. We headed out of Fairbanks at about midnight, only to run into trouble on the first hill north of town. The other truck was misfiring and losing power. The guys debated for a while and ended up heading back to the yard to hook up another truck and leave the bad one for the mechanic. I went to sleep somewhere along the way and didn’t wake up until we were bouncing along the Elliot Highway.

Here’s what I very quickly learned about highways built this far north. Gravel is your friend. Asphalt is not! With the freeze/thaw cycles the roadway will heave and slump. Asphalt ends up having ripples in it that will bounce and jounce you and try to throw you out of your seat. Gravel can be the same, but it’s easy to run a grader over it to smooth out the surface again. I quickly learned to cringe when we came across asphalt and relax for gravel.

The Dalton Highway starts on gravel. I was awake enough to get out of the truck and stretch my legs for a bit before deciding the mosquitoes were too thick. I’m pretty sure there’s a photo of me in front of the sign, just not on my camera. I got my pic of it the next day on the way south. The highway was finished in the fall of 1974 to facilitate the building and servicing of the Alaska Pipeline and oilfields. The pipeline runs parallel to the highway and can be seen from the road for the most part. The farthest north section uses the pipeline miles as mile markers.

I slept off and on as far as Coldfoot, which is at about the midpoint. It was originally a camp where supplies were staged. When construction was finished and the supply camp was no longer needed a guy took the leftover pallet materials and made a building for a saloon and cafe. Now it’s a good place to stop for food and fuel and to take a nap or get a shower. The guys slept for a few hours while I got to eat and explore and sit to watch the show I had downloaded while I still had service.

I took a lot of pictures. Not many of them were good. It’s hard to get a good shot while cruising down a bumpy road with rain on the windshield. The scenery is impressive and I hear that the wildlife is too. I didn’t get to see any of the wildlife though, except for a few caribou just outside of Deadhorse.

I got to hear a lot of stories too. Various spots have distinct names, some for the nature of the challenge, some for events, some for people. Names like Beaver Slide, Surprise hill, Oil Spill, and others that I can’t remember. I got to hear stories about wrecks and near misses. And I got to hear about drivers who lost their lives to the highway. Anyone who drives this road successfully will have wrecks and mechanical failures. The code of the highway will not allow for anyone to pass by another driver who is stranded. They all know that they might be the one with whatever part or tool or bit of knowledge needed to get the other back up and running. They also know that they might be the next one in need. The highway and the weather can be unforgiving.

Deadhorse is not a normal town. Every lot is leased by one company or another. There are no houses. There are equipment yards, wellheads, shops, and hotels that look like mobile homes stacked end to end and three or four stories tall. Nothing was open when we were there, not just because of the hour but because of quarantine restrictions. Nobody needs an outbreak so far from civilization. It would interfere with productivity, among other things. We parked in the yard where the fuel was to be delivered, ate food that we had brought with us, and took turns sleeping in the back while the other day and watched videos on the phone or iPad. The sun was just as high in the sky at 11pm as it was at 3 or 5am. The only change was which side of the sky it filled. Midnight sun, indeed.

Fuel got unloaded, some minor maintenance on trailer brakes was done, and we were heading south by 9am. Apparently the level of road grit experienced can be bad for fittings. You have to know where to keep it clean. Heading toward Atigun Pass we passed a few cyclists. One was northbound on his own, another two were southbound. Both drivers were as courteous to the cyclists as they were to other traffic. If you can, slow down to 25 mph or slower to avoid throwing gravel and breaking windshields. I heard plenty of grumbling about tourists. The cyclists were referred to as “Meals on Wheels” by the guy who almost ran over a bear to keep her from prying his truck open to get to his food. One can only hope that the cyclists were well prepared and carrying more than bear spray.

It took almost 24 hours to make the trip north due to load, mechanical trouble, and rest breaks. The trip back took 12 hours. I managed to stay awake for most of it. I’ll admit that sleep is my favorite cure for motion sickness. I chose to nap through one of the roughest sections of road. I had to brace myself while I dozed, but it was better than bouncing around in the seat.

We only stopped a few times going south. Lunch, bathroom break, once for the dogs, and once for a paving crew on the Elliot Highway. For miles we drove through swarming dragonflies the size of my hand. They didn’t show up in the video I tried to take of them, but they covered the grill of the truck. I can only guess that they were hunting mosquitoes.

Rough roads and lack of sleep aside, I am so glad I tagged along on this trip. I got to see things in person that very few people get to see. I would gladly go again. I want to see it all in sunlight. I want to see the moose and bears and musk ox that hid from me this time. I only have one limitation. After hearing all the stories I don’t think I want to ride along in winter. I don’t know if I can handle that. Yet.