Day 8 – Into The Wild – June 8, 2019

Getting up early in the morning doesn’t seem as disorienting (Karen may disagree) up here where the sun always shines. By 5:30AM, we were in the van headed north up the Dalton Highway. Our destination was Coldfoot Camp, about 255 miles north of Fairbanks.

This highway, or the ‘Haul Road’ as it is also known, didn’t even exist until the Alaskan Pipeline construction project in the 1970’s. Even after the completion of the pipeline, the road was not open to the public until the 1980’s. Most of it is a gravel road. With off and on rain all day, our ride was mostly dust-free.

We made several stops along the way, but the main stops were the Wildwood General Store, the Yukon River Camp, and Coldfoot Camp. When she wasn’t dodging mosquitoes, Karen was able to get in touch with more animal pelts at the first stop.

Lunch time was at the Yukon River Camp. We’re told that this is the only place in Alaska where a highway bridge crosses the Yukon River. It’s also a main truck stop along the road. This means there’s good trucker food here. If you’re ever up this way, try out the homemade blueberry pie. Karen had a homemade cookie the size of an automobile hub cap, and our sandwiches were so big we ate the second halves for dinner later that day. We also met ‘Yukon Bob’ (a volunteer highway host), who told us only 1% of tourists make it north of Fairbanks. So in one respect, anyway, we now consider ourselves one-percenters.

Not too far north of the Yukon River, we stopped at the Finger Rocks. In addition to its interesting geologic features, this location also offered an expansive view of the White Mountains, and the distant Brooks Range. While perched at the top of a small rise, we could see an approaching storm. The first peal of thunder was so loud that it reverberated for at least 20 seconds 360 degrees around us.

Further up the road we stopped at the Arctic Circle for a brief ceremony, during which we were awarded certificates attesting to our momentous passage. After tearful embraces, we jumped back into the van just as rain began to fall.

We made a quick stop at the visitor center for the Gates of the Arctic National Park & Preserve. This gave Karen just enough time to embrace some more animal skins.

Then, we went across the road to Coldfoot Camp. Coldfoot started off as a gold mining settlement at the start of the 20^th century, and then died out after the gold rush. It got a second life as a construction camp during the pipeline project. After that, an enterprising former Iditarod racer bought up the surplus construction housing and started a truck stop. 

Our hotel for the night was built using these old modules with all the rooms branching off a long central hallway. The snow was so heavy by this past spring, that part of the exterior porch was crushed under the weight. It has yet to be repaired.

The room décor is 1970’s construction office paneling, with warm touches of industrial-grade plywood and off-white T-bar ceiling panels. At about 7’ wide and 15’ deep, it was plenty of space for us. The camp is an interesting cross-roads for the truckers, motorcyclists, bicyclists, backpackers and tourists who pass through these parts.

We had an afternoon rainstorm, had a beer at the northernmost saloon in the U.S., signed up for a raft trip, and then took a nap.

I got up just before midnight and took a short hike. It’s a strange experience to be walking through the woods in the middle of the ‘night’ with the sky still lit up. It didn’t take long for the mosquitoes to find me, so I headed back to the room.

Next: Rafting