Driving the Dalton

The main part of our Alaskan journey is along the Dalton Highway. This road takes us from Livegood, Alaska, to Deadhorse, Alaska and follows along the Alaska Pipeline for a majority of the way. It is known for being one of the most dangerous roads because it is mostly gravel with only small sections that are paved-- and when they are, the road is littered with potholes anywhere from five to ten inches deep spanning across it's width for hundreds of yards at a time. The road is mainly used for truckers, but there were other vehicles and motorcycles along the way. It is recommended that travelers bring a full spare tire, an emergency kit, and warned that the windshield will probably come out with a chip or crack. Since the road is mainly gravel and semi's are the most common, rocks are often caught in the tires, and subsequently flung through the air as the trucks get to higher speeds. We finished the trip with four chips in the windshield that had turned into cracks by the end of the journey. Although Deadhorse is the farthest a civilian can drive, we paid to take a tour to Prudhoe Bay on the Arctic Ocean. Many who drive the Pan-American Highway consider this a must-see location to officially start or end their journey.

Unofficial sign at the beginning of the Dalton Highway. 

Although leaving Seward was bitter sweet, there was also the thrill of being on our way to the first major landmark on our trip. While on our way north we decided to stop by Denali National Park to check out the bus tours. Unfortunately, we were too late to take a tour that day, but there were still openings for the next morning. Just outside the park we ate at a wonderful place called The Salmon Bake. Honestly, the food was great, the atmosphere was relaxed, and it was also the most crooked building we've ever seen. Honestly, I'm not even sure how it is still standing considering when we walked into the restaurant the floor was most obviously slanted so that the double doors had at least a three inch difference in the gap at the bottom.

The next morning we drove back into Denali, and in the interest of getting the most bang for our buck (and not die of a 12-13 hour bus ride) we decided to go to mile 66 of the park (about half way). Along the route we saw a whole bunch of wildlife including bears, caribou, big horn sheep, ground squirrels, and more. The roads in the park that the busses drive on are precarious at best. In some places the busses pass each other with mere inches between with a couple hundred foot cliff to the other side. Needless to say, we just didn't look out the window in these parts. Once the seven hour bus was over, we started right back up again and began our trip on the Dalton Highway. This night we drove until 2am and found camp. This had to be the most interesting section of road we've ever seen. It started out great-- nicely paved and great scenery, until we got a bit further in. To describe it as a roller coaster would be the most accurate description. Along the side of the road there would be 'Rough Road' or 'Bump' signs, which usually doesn't mean much-- maybe slow down a few miles per hour and call it good. Nope. There were times when our refrigerator went airborne, and all the duffle bags ended up in Mat's lap in the back seat. So what did we do? Turned on Don't Stop Me Now by Queen and laughed our way along what we dubbed the "wup-wups".

Official sign the the beginning of the Dalton Highway.

The next day we left our camp headed north and crossed into the Arctic Circle! We stopped at a place called Coldfoot Camp. This is one of the few places to fuel up, eat, and access internet (the whole Dalton highway there was no cell service at all). This is just a hodge-podge of building put together with a gas station, restaurant, motel, and mini store for the basics. From here we drove to Galbraith Camp in the middle of nowhere. There was a river near by, so we went exploring. We crossed where the rocks poked up higher than the river, and walked roughly two miles around the shore. The most amazing part was a 30 foot deep canyon the river went into. Crawling onto the rocks in this canyon where the river was rushing past was amazing if not a bit scary knowing it would be awful to fall in. Being up that far north called for cold nights when we had to cook dinner out the back of the Jeep or sleep in the unheated RTT.

Mountains along a rare section of smooth road.

The usual weather and road conditions on the Dalton Highway. 
The Alaska Pipeline following the road to the left. 

The big day was here, we were going to Deadhorse Camp! It was a short day of driving, only 115 miles, so we could have time to find a place to sleep. When we got there it was strange. Very strange. In Deadhorse there are no houses or buildings like seen in a city. All buildings look like giant shipping containers put together or like over sized trailer homes, but without the homey feel. Almost all of the building are on stilts to allow for the insane amounts of snow, and almost all of them can be moved if need be. Mind you there are only four permanent residents of Deadhorse. All of the work there is seasonal on the oil fields, with a huge influx of workers in the spring and then they all leave in the fall. Everywhere you look there are trucks, machinery, and construction equipment. It is very easy to feel out of place when there are 'Private Property' signs everywhere declaring the property owned by specific oil companies.

There is a tiny airport for bringing in mail and supplies for the one store called Brooks Range General Store. It is a conglomerate of a Napa Auto Parts store, Post Office, laundry, showers, tiny room of gas station-like goods, and a small clothing store offering souvenir t-shirts, and a lot of Carhartt gear. All of this is strung together through narrow passage ways and odd flights of stairs where you are welcome to explore anywhere you want. Oh, and people live in the upper floors. In this town there are only two gas stations, and by that I mean the dispensers are located in a gravel lot (nothing is paved here) with no humans around. Payment is made electronically at a kiosk nearby.

End of the Dalton Highway sign at the Brooks Range General Store.

After calling a few of the 'hotels' we came to the conclusion that there was only one place to camp out for the night. It was basically a gravel version of a beach 30 yards off of the main road into Deadhorse. This is a place where the winds ripped by us at 30 mph and a decent sized body of water another 30 yards further from the road (we forget the name of the lake). As for the geography and climate of this place, we were too far north for trees to grow, the ground was completely flat, the earth was either half-dead grass or gravel, and while we were there the temperature never got over 39 degrees with a low somewhere around 25. The biggest kicker though, was that the sun never set. Never. It would only dip low in the sky, and then come a bit higher, but never directly above. It just circled around the sky constantly. It was quite hard to sleep, and there was no guessing what time it was without looking at a clock.

The next day was a high of 35 degrees with 25mph winds. Perfect weather to jump into the Arctic Ocean, right?! .....Maybe. We did some adulting (our way of saying being responsible and planning) the few days previous and had set up a tour to go north of Deadhorse into Prudhoe Bay. Only authorized vehicles are allowed to go into Prudhoe Bay, since the majority of the land is owned by big oil companies and for some reason the Dept. of Homeland Security feels the need to regulate who is allowed to go in and out. Seriously. After a small tour of Deadhorse and Prudhoe Bay we found ourselves looking out at the Arctic Ocean. As everyone piled out of the tour bus, we noted it was cold, windy, and there were a whole bunch of little ice bergs floating further out in the bay. The three of us walked around for a bit and contemplated our lives and if we were actually going to run in. After saying "F#!K it, we can't come this far, and not jump in" we did it. We had packed our bags with towels, a few extra warm clothes, and a GoPro. Seth went first running wildly into the water holding the GoPro on a selfie stick with a string of explicatives trailing behind him. He ran back and we worked as a team to dry him off and get him dressed so we could help Mat do the same. He ran out yelling, flipped backward and sank into the icy water. Then it was my turn. Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohmygod. I ran in. My legs were completely numb. The bottom was sludge-y. It was cold. So Cold. I ducked down real quick yelling "This counts! This counts!", since I technically didn't sink my head underwater. I ran back finding Mat had gone to the tour bus, and Seth laughing so hard that he'd rather take a video of my freak-out reaction than help me dry off and get clothed.

The Jeep coming out victorious after four grueling days on the Dalton.

In the end we got certificates stating we are now a part of the Polar Bear Club, the coldest experience of a lifetime, and Mat recalling an Australian man from the bus saying "Is that sheila gonna do it too?" as the other passengers watched us from the warmth of the bus. Once back in Deadhorse we drove on back to Coldfoot Camp to spend the night and return to normal civilization.