Rev. 07/20/01
Alaska & beyond - continued 7/18 - 7/19
Dawson YT to Inuvik NWT
Sunrise
in Dawson was 4:25 am. About 4, I awoke and glanced out the window
of the RT, the sky was crimson and pink, beautiful. Just pulled on
my pants, not even bothering to put on my shoes, I grabbed the camera and
went outside barefoot -- I couldn't let this sight pass.
After a shower and breakfast, I went out to find a welder to
mend a bracket on the RT. Hank turned out to be more than just a welder
-- he was a mover of rocks. He told me the story of his picnic
table/headstone.
Seems he saw the huge flat rock out at a mine in the hills. He asked, and the mine owner said he could have it. Just figure how to move it. Several years later he heard a trucking company was taking a load up to the mine, and were "bob tailing" back empty. He told them he'd pay for the "bob tail" if they'd get his rock. I told him his picnic table looks like a small Stone Heng.
When he finished my welding, I took off for the road to Inuvik,
the "& beyond" of my trip. About fifty miles up the road,
climbing North Fork Pass, there is a great view of Tombstone Mountain.
They have tried to give it other name but "Tombstone" still sticks.
Over the years, it has made a great landmark for trappers, prospectors
and pilots.
A
few more miles, on the side of the road I saw moose droppings. Oh oh,
I'm in trouble with the moose again. A mile up the road I saw my "moose"
-- or horses.
Coming down off of the pass, I went by a sign that said Two
Moose Lake, just a small empty lake. As I was driving by, something
caught the corner of my eye. Stopped -- sure enough, there was a moose,
wading deep and feeding on the bottom. On closer inspection, there
was another moose on the other side of the lake. There really were
two moose in "Two Moose Lake."
The "Milepost" said there was a gyrfalcon nest on a ledge in
one of the passes -- didn't say on the left or right, high up or down --
just that it was there. Some searching, and I finally located the nest.
After watching it for a long time I decided it was empty right now,
too bad.
The geology in this region is spectacular. Many hillside show erosion pillars, some are of fossil coral. The glaciers of the ice age really did a job of exposing the under pinning of these mountains. My friend Bill, the geologist, would be fascinated by this area.
Further along the road climbs up on the ridge line and stays
there for a hundred miles or so, rolling up and down with the rolling hills
of this area -- and traveling over the roughest road I've been on in
years and years.
It did give a chance to get a panorama of the Ogilvie valley.
The rolling hill tops we were traveling on was the only place in Canada not covered by glaciers of the last Ice Age. Wind, rain and water is what shaped this immediate land, not ice.
Eagle
Plains was a welcome relief from this road. There I met Bill and Shirley,
from BC. They are driving a big Class A, but came over the last hundred
miles all in one piece -- a little tired from that drive, but after a glass
of wine, much more relaxed.
We sat a talked about many things, relaxing in their large comfortable RV. As was talked, we watch the sun get lower and gradually circle around across the sky -- suddenly Shirley pointed to the clock -- it was almost midnight, the sun was still above the horizon. Yes, there really is a mid-night sun.
Earlier that evening I'd watch an incident unfold. When I arrived at Eagle Plains, I paid for a RV site with electricity and was told to go pick the site I liked. When I got to the RV camp, there a very large red bus, parked lengthwise, blocking access to all except three sites with electricity. I approached the driver about it, but got a lot of static back -- he gruffly said something about he'd always done it, and had an agreement with the owner..
His group proceeded to fix their dinner and in general monopolized the camping facility. He set up a large plastic bag for rubbish from their meal. After they had finished eating, they all retired to the tables on the other side of the bus..
Enter
our joker, the raven. He flew over and eyed the plastic bag, peered
under the bus, making sure no one was watching, and proceeded to rip the
bag open with his beak, dumping all the rubbish on the ground. Then,
at his leisure, he sorted through the garbage, devouring those tasty morsels
he found. When finish, he flew off carrying something red in his beak,
don't know what it was.
A couple of ladies, from the group, happened by and reported the mischief to their leader. He now had the job of cleaning up after Mr. Raven, much to his disgust. I thought to my self, couldn't happen to a nicer guy.
The next morning was the anti climax.
Now a raven seems to have two modes of walking. When he is in a hurry he gallops, almost the same way a child does. If he's not in a hurry, he waddles from side to side, it looks more like he is strutting.
Anyway,
the bus tour leader was up early the next morning, sitting at a table, doing
some paper work and enjoying the morning sun. The joker, the raven,
flew over, galloped down the road looking for rubbish for breakfast, and
then strutted over toward the leader -- who jumped up from the table, screaming
obscenities, waving his arms, and chased the raven -- who appeared to laughingly
fly away.
Bill and Shirley and I had agreed to go up to Inuvik together
to take an aerial tour up to the village of Tuktoyaktuk, north of Inuvik,
so we pretty well stuck together driving up. He left first and I caught
up to him when they stopped at the Arctic Circle to take pictures -- it is
a special place.
Next stop was when we left the Yukon Territory and entered the Northwestern Territories of Canada.
There are no bridges across the Peel River or the Mackenzie.
Small ferries, on both rivers, operate to carry vehicles across.
Bill's big Class A is usually boarded first and then my RT next to
him. These small ferries are fun to ride, quit informal. At the
Mackenzie, we had to wait for the ferry to come back from the other side.
Bill and Shirley invited me up to the their RV to wait, but I declined,
said I needed a nap. Good thing I told them because I went sound asleep,
next thing was Bill rapping on my window to wake me up to board the ferry.
We
stopped in Ft. McPherson to inquire about some things, and had an opportunity
to visit the grave of the "Lost Patrol". It is one of those tragic
stories of the frozen Arctic.
The drive from the Mackenzie River to Inuvik is through gently rolling tundra with more lakes than you can count.
At
Inuvik, we had no problems finding the Happy Valley RV Park. There,
smiling Wanda was very friendly, and helped get us settled into our camp
sites. She'd never seen a Hawaii license so I gave her a tour of the
RT.
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