Just Around The Bend Episode III Touring the Continent: Crossing the Great North

JUST AROUND THE BEND

Episode III



If they could no longer carry their prized
possesions they would leave them behind. Thus
the trail and camps were littered with goods,
sewing machines, saws, and many large items that
might have brought them riches in Dawson.















































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Lake Bennett, British Columbia was a hot house
of boat building. These boats were mostly flat
bottom as they were easy to build, carried lots of
goods, and were reasonably stable in the water.





























Rapids were everyone’s problem. Few knew how
to read the water, and even fewer could deal with
the rushing water. It’s believed that many
stampeders lost everything in the rapids. Here a
raft attempts to navigate the treacherous
‘Whitehorses’, near the city of its name.







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The Klondike was where it was focused.
Dawson City was the center of the gold rush.
Thousands of stampeders made the journey.




























Mining took over the countryside, mostly along
the river beds, but as time went by they dug into
the hillsides and mined by candle light. Later
large gold dredges were imported.














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Gold dust was the accepted currency, milk could
cost $30 a gallon. Champagne more expensive.
It’s hard to realize that more goods were available
in Dawson than anywhere outside of Europe.
Dawson even had electric lights. The real boom
benefited the merchants.







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Dance halls weren’t the only hot spots in town.
These industrious ladies entertained their clients.

Others carried on in a less generous fashion, but
still profitably.





























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Here at Bonanza Creek, Mrs. Lows would stitch
those torn britches, wash them and tell your
fortune all at once.



































These and many other photographs from 1896
through 1899 were collected by Graham Wilson
th
for the 100 Anniversary Celebration of The
Klondike Gold Rush. They give one a feeling for
the amazing number of people that were
involved, their hardships and tribulations, and
above all the wild and rugged period they lived in.
Today it’s different. The town is a tourist trap of
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multi-colored shops, gold panning, saloons, and
entertainment. It’s not a Disneyland, just a fun
place to visit.

Back in camp we’ve gone over our expenses, and
find that we are spending ourselves into oblivion.
The last few days have been $92, $128, $169 and
$99 each. It won’t take us long on a budget of
$55 Canadian and we’ll be out on the banks of
the Yukon panning. Or in jail because the claims
have already been made along the banks. Today
may be expensive also as we have bought several
hats and presents for our kids and friends.
Tomorrow we will start up the hill behind us. It’s
the ‘Top of the World’ highway and leads into
Alaska. Until then we will have a nice spaghetti
dinner with wine. Read a little and sleep with a
slight breeze, chasing the mosquitoes away.




























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CHAPTER 3
ALASKA: WHERE ARE THE BOUNDRIES ?



The term ‘Highway’ is an expression that is used
lightly here in the Northwest. ‘The Top of the
World’ highway is a graded dirt road, sometimes
open to traffic, sometimes not. It was closed a
couple of weeks ago, but is now open. We have
no idea why, maybe it’s the weather, but we’re on
our way.































This picture at the top of the mountain, outside
of Dawson City shows a couple of interesting
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things. First, the trees, the black spruce, are still
growing 15 to 20 feet high. That will change.
Second, if you’ve viewed any on the 1897 photos
there’s not one tree in them. That’s because the
trees were all cut down, and used for building,
construction, and firewood. Every tree on every
hill from Bennett Lake to Dawson City had been
cut down. They have grown back, even though
it’s taken 100 years.

Up, up we went along the dusty rutted road to
the top of the mountains. The road has just been
reopened after being scraped and leveled. The
heavy trucks quickly take a toll causing deep ruts.
We’ll stay here for the next 200 miles on the Top
of the World Highway in the Yukon and the
Taylor Highway in Alaska. In a few miles the


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arctic environment and tundra will take over and
the landscape changes drastically.

Although we were at the top and we could see
for miles with the road bending around the
hillsides we never went down into any of the
valleys. There could have been lakes and rivers
below, but we never saw them. The mountains
were rounded, like we were at the bottom of a
great sea.

























It doesn’t take long to adjust to this type of
scenery and we began wondering if the rest of
our trip would be anti-climatic. We’ve had quite
an adventure in the last few days, and wondered
if there would be anything like it in the future.
There is no one on the highway. We drove for
an hour or so and never saw one vehicle, or


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animal. This isolation caused us to stop on one
mountain top meadow to take a break. It was
beautiful, the black spruce were now 4 feet high,
and most of the lush growth was knee high.
Flowers and shrubs growing so low to the
ground because of the winds, the cold and the
arctic climate changed the meadow into a foot
high forest. Just as Arlene, a shy person took a
moment to relieve herself a couple of RV’s came
over the mountain. They didn’t stop, never the
less she had quickly yanked her pants back up.

We still had a few miles before we reached the
Alaskan border. Our anticipation was great, we’d
see some people, customs agents, and because
there wasn’t much traffic we’d probably hear a
couple of good wilderness stories.
Well the surprise was on us. There was a small
roughed up sign, a flagpole with the United States
flag flying, and a small roadside shed. No gate
crossed the road and there wasn’t anyone at their
post. Up the hill above the road were a couple of
cabins. One fellow up there waved to us. It
wasn’t a move on wave, or a welcome wave, it
was mostly just a ‘how are you doing today’ wave.
WELCOME TO…….. Alaska

We’re so glad we’re here.

Where are the boundaries?
What a disappointing welcome. Oh! My! Do you
think we will ever get over it? We’ve come


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thousands of miles, and years of anticipation to
reach this border. We took a wild detour
through Dawson City to be on this very highway.
And we’re greeted with a casual wave. It’s true
that we thought things would be different after
the Klondike, but not this different. Oh! My! Let
us catch our breath.

We’re now on the Taylor Highway, driving into
the South Fork Valley. The creek we approached
was a burnt orange color with pools of water as
black as a raven. As we drove along the creek the
black spruce and poplars grew higher along the
protected hillsides.
After a short while we came upon another of
those rocky worms. It was different than the
ones we’d seen on the Klondike River. This one
mixed the boulders with dirt, and had lots of
shrubs growing over it. When we turned the
bend there was a large rusting crane beside the
road. There wasn’t much room for us to pull
over as the road was narrow, about 1½ lanes
wide. The crane was down in the middle of the
creek.
It wasn’t a crane. It was Gold Dredge Number 1.
In the years after the early rush, panning had
become a big business. This is what had
happened to the panning. So little had come out
of the rush, after George Carmack that the
stampeders were replaced by these huge dredges.
This is what made the ‘worms’ we saw going into


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Dawson City. They had scoured the countryside,
dredging every creek and river.

The grand old technique for extracting gold from
pans, swirling the black dirt, hadn’t really changed
much, only now the methods had just gotten
larger, and mechanical. It was the same old
panning method. I guess if shaking the dirt until
the gold dropped to the bottom of the pan was
what they ought to do. A bigger, much bigger
pan, or in this case a dredge would do the job.
She was deep in a grove and covered with years
of South Forks spring slues, trees and branches;
bounded together like a beaver dam. Above the
black pool and the tangled trees old # 1 was
rusting and rotting away, long since given away to
someone’s dream.



























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You could see the bow house, where the dredge
was controlled, several driving levers were caught
in the morning sun. Two huge pulleys were held
together by a eight inch chain. They dug the
river beds, the rocks, dirt and hopefully black grit
and gold. Now the conveyor loading the rubble
was silent.

I climbed down the banks into the dredge.
Under the hull, inside the barge was the rusted
boiler, 4 by 8 planks and clogs to drive the pans
to the base of the rock, called ‘bed rock’ where
no gold could go beyond. The sluice inside had
lost it’s burlap and a rusted metal colander 20 feet
long was all that remained. The many holes and
ripped sides left sunlight streaming through. It
was both beautiful and easy to see in the
darkness.
Outside the tin sides had been beaten in, and the
final path of soil and rock which was one of
those worm’s was held up by a popular tree that
number 1 had left behind.




















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We climbed back up to the top of the roly poly
mountains, and their knee high forest. It wasn’t
long before we saw a road sign announcing
‘Chicken’ 40 miles ahead.
Chicken has a population of 250 people,
chickens, and cows. It is in the middle of
nowhere on the Taylor Highway and has only
one redeeming grace. It has a U.S. Post Office.
If you travel to Alaska from Dawson it’s
imperative to drop off some mail, so that your
friends back home can see the ‘Chicken’ post
mark.
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One story about Chicken they can’t shake off is
they wanted to name the town after the Alaskan
State Bird, the Ptarmigan, but didn’t know how
to spell it. So they named the town Chicken.

























There are several types of Ptarmigan, but the
state bird is a little smaller than a chicken, and
changes color in the spring and winter. In the
spring and summer the bird is brownish; good
for hiding in the brush. During the winter its
plumage turns as white as snow.

There’s a campground near here, but we decided
to move on, maybe we could get to Fairbanks by
the end of the day. We rejoined the Alcan
Highway at Telin Junction. A few miles further
and we arrived at Tok.



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This is the official end or beginning of the
Alaskan Canadian Highway, 1422 miles from
Dawson Creek, British Columbia.





























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We stopped long enough to take pictures and to
celebrate. We then realized that it was over 200
miles to Fairbanks, and decided to stay here. We
went to Sourdough Campground for the night.
By taking the northern route to Dawson City we
had bypassed Haines and Skagway. The latter
was another entry point for the great gold rush.
Not as successful, in the short run, but it’s still
there, and Dyea is just a memory. Maybe on our
way back we will drop down through the
mountains to visit Skagway.

We were up early and headed out towards Delta
Junction. The elevation is still in the 2,000 to
3,000 level, but off to our south we can see more
snow and higher mountains. They are the
Alaskan Range and stand about 12,000 feet high.
Many people call Delta Junction the real end of
the Alcan. We can’t agree or not, but it does
have a different kind of feel to it. It’s a little less
institutionalized more of a traveler’s welcome,
and celebration.
















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Either way we were glad to be here and on our
way to Fairbanks. Just outside of Fairbanks was
a Corp of Engineers campground Chena
Recreational Area. We have said that the Corp
has the nicest camps in the country. And we
would do almost anything to go to one. The only
drawback is that they are in remote areas, and
nearly always, not just near but, under the dam.

So far there have been no dam blow outs, so we
continue to go to these fine campgrounds.
Tonight I sit with my back to the Mercury, in its
shadow and shade, with a slight breeze blowing
the 88-degree air around. In front of me is the
spectacular light that exceeds all our imagination;


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even the light that inspired the Impressionist
painters’ on the hillsides of Nice, France. The
black spruces, dark needles and trunks, the
Poplar’s gray bark and hearty leaves. The Aspen
so white you can’t look straight at them, and their
shimmering pea green leaves. The White Pines
summer needles are whispering in the breeze.
The fuchsia fireweed flowers glittering in the
evening sun. The campsite’s sawdust is bright
beige, our olive tent and royal blue tarp. The sky
an ordinary blue, at an unordinary time. This is
Alaska and we’re finally here.





























We put up the tarp like a lean-to. It should help
us stay cool in this hot 90 degree arctic climate.



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There’s also plenty of booze and coldish water to
help us.

We’re still trying to adjust to the sun. We’ve
noticed in the residential area of Fairbanks there
are lots of toys left out in every yard. It could be
that so many of the residents are military people
who just don’t care about picking up, or it could
be that the long days aren’t easy for anyone. But
there seems to be little attention given to picking
things up. The place looks like a dump.
Here are a couple of pictures that illustrate what
it’s like when the sun never sets. Sunrise at 3:00
A.M. and sunset on Chena Lake at 12:30 A.M.


































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We’ve also noticed that the parents don’t seem to
be up until after 10 in the morning and the kids
are up around 6 or 7. That gives the kids several
hours to play by themselves. Who knows what
it’s like in the winter. Months without sun. I’m
afraid to ask.

We’ve taken a day to do chores and decide what
we want and where we want to go. Arlene has
studied our guidebooks and I’ve read about the
Klondike.

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We took a hike around the lake this morning. Its
terrain has a strange effect on us. Maybe, its
because we’re so close to Fairbanks that we feel
so safe and have dropped our guard. Maybe it’s
the wide-open spaces, and the neighborhoods
that are so close to us. Maybe, but we are still in
the wilderness.
We walked all the way around the lake. There
was no one around. Down one gully we saw a


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moose. She didn’t pay any attention to us. You
can see how thick and beautiful the wild flowers
are. We had quite a time walking through them
and probably, if we couldn’t see so far, we would
have turned back. Fortunately, our views were
far and wide enough that we kept going.








































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At one point we came out upon the shoreline,
covered with rocks. We walked for a while, all
the time hearing birds and seeing them flying
above us. It finally dawned on us that we were
near their nests. We backed off, but they
continued to fly around us. Fortunately, we were
not dive bombed, as they were big sea gulls.
























By the time we’d got back to camp it was plenty
hot. Who would have guessed the temperature
would be above 90 in Alaska? We didn’t, but we
did have an idea about cooling off.

Get in the shade and stick your feet in a bucket
of cold water. It worked great. I love it. Isn’t
she swell?






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Down the road a little bit was a ‘widening’ with a
general store, gas station, and large chalet. This
was ‘North Pole’ Alaska, and it had a Post Office.
So we couldn’t resist sending letters to the grand
kids, from Santa, post marked at the North Pole.
Everyone got one, Lindsey, Samantha, and
Victoria. We’ll have to ask their parents if that
letter didn’t assure them that Santa Claus was
real.




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There’s something else we saw at the North Pole.
It was a pickup truck with a 250-gallon
polyethylene tank, being filled with water. It was
drinking water. We learned that outside of the
city limits and the military base, there was no
running water, unless you were lucky enough to
have drilled a well and actually hit good water.
Evidently that doesn’t happen often.

Part of the day was spent on our finances. We
did some basic accounting:
Assets equaled $3,000 in our checking accounts,
$500 in US traveler checks, and $200 in
Canadian. Our Cash was down to $200 and $100
respectively. We had a big bill to send to VISA,
which we always pay off each month. We could
cover it, and use the credit card to take care of
our adventures here in Fairbanks.

In total we were cutting it pretty close, and by the
time we’d get to Denali we would have to wait
for my pension check to clear before we could go
further. To help us along I called our credit
union and transferred $1,000 into our checking
account.

It’s funny how often we review our expenses,
take a deep breath and continue to spend like
drunken sailors. That’s just what we did. We
made reservations to stay in Denali for 14 days,
charged it, reservations for three tours into the
deep recesses of Denali, charged them,
reservations to take a tour bus to the Artic Circle,

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charged it, got an oil change, charged it, went to
dinner at the Pump House restaurant, charged it
and went to a neat book store, bought books and
charged them too.

Dinner at the Pump House was pretty good. It
was typical American cuisine as most everyone
there was either military or a tourist. Arlene had
a nice Salmon dinner, and stood beside the
largest bear ever shot. It was in a glass case and
stood 9 feet tall. She was dwarfed by it.






































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We understand the restaurant was a reproduction
of the ‘Rush’ days in Fairbanks, and it’s filled
with 1900 antiques. But we don’t have a clue
about the pump station or about the paddle
wheeler behind her.

The bookstore down the street was excellent. It
had lots of local, and used books including
several we bought, including the tales of Johnny
‘Midnight’ Anderson, the bush pilot.




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Back at camp we had such a nice day that our
expense problems were forgotten. It was time to
focus on the Fourth of July holiday. We had
been anticipating seeing the fireworks. After all
we had seen some of the most exciting ones on
the east coast, in Washington D.C. on the
Monument grounds and off Manhattan by the
Statue of Liberty. I even worked with a fellow
that helped put the New York City and
Connecticut River displays together. He of
course was a dynamite kind of guy.

We’re sleeping in the tent. It’s quite an
experience, but it’s just too hot in the van.. You
can hear everything, outside and around us. The
wind blowing through the trees, the autos coming
into camp, and the kids running around on the
gravel. But, getting over these small things, there
are no mosquitoes, no black flies. It’s worth it.
We’re headed downtown today to walk around
and visit. The National Parks have a Ranger
station right in the middle of town. That will be
a good stop. It was. We saw a film about the
area and got some information about the
University of Alaska. It’s a Sea Grant school.
That’s strange as I thought all of Congress’
school grants were ‘Land’ grants. It’s also strange
in that it’s here in Fairbanks; no where near the
oceans.
We talked to a Ranger that had been here for
several years. She had a home outside of the city,


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and told us about the issues with utilities.
Electric and phone service are available outside
of Fairbanks, but you have to put down a
sizeable bond. The bond pays for digging and
laying the telephone poles and electric lines.
They also had a contract for 5 years guaranteeing
that you stand behind maintenance of the
utilities.

Water on the other hand is often hand carried to
your home when outside of the city. There are
several places where it’s available; the North Pole
was one station. Others are alongside the few
roads leading out of town.
Drilling for water is tricky; she told us several
people who had drilled, and came up with bad
water. It could be an expensive undertaking. .

She even told us about the roads. You don’t
want to get stuck on them, particularly as a
tourist. But, there are so few roads, because it’s
difficult and costly to build them. Alaskans work
long hours during the summer. It’s not until the
winter that they have a chance to party and play.
They work much less, because of the cold and
dark. Yet travel is unimpeded. They don’t use
the roads, because they can go anywhere, cross-
country on their snowmobiles and tractors. No
wonder the average age in Alaska is 36.

Down the street was a local movie theater that
had been turned into a monstrously large ice
box.. Really the entire theater is a deep freezer.

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The ice comes from Chena Lake which is
supposed to be very clear and solid. So each year
Fairbanks has an international ice carving
sculpture festival and contest. Each contestant,
or team is supplied with several chunks of solid
ice to carve.

During the summer several artists work on their
sculptures, and the theater is just the place for
them. For the price of a movie ticket we went in
to visit.
Wow! It was amazing, ice sculptures of many
large animals, and birds. Moose, Big Horn
Sheep, Bears, Foxes, Weasels, Wolves, Ducks and
Eagles. The weight of these sculptures is
enormous; each Moose antler weighs more than
40 pounds.

There was back lighting that brought out the best
in them, in colors you wouldn’t expect, pink
sheep, yellow moose, blue wolves, and red calves.
We walked around them could actually touch, but
we didn’t. We stayed until we were as cold as
they were.











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Outside the theater we were dazed by the 90
degree heat.

What an exhibit that was. Once in a while you
might see a single carving, at a special dinner, or
show, but never so many and so large. They
have a winter festival where the pieces are much
larger and the artists work in teams. It must be
awesome.

We wandered around a little more and then
headed back to camp. Tomorrow we’re on a tour
to the Arctic Circle.








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CHAPTER 4
THE HAUL ROAD TO THE ARCTIC



We had taken some time deciding whether to
take a tour, or drive. We’d heard a lot about the
‘Haul Road’ and like the Cassiar Highway in
British Columbia the gravel tears up tires. We’ve
been pretty fortunate with our tires, our
windows, the vans paint and no dings. We
understand that services were far and few
between. It’s several hundred miles to Prudhoe
Bay, and half that distance to the Arctic Circle.
We could camp anywhere, by pulling off the
road, but neither of us felt comfortable doing
that.

We had also heard that the trucks raced up and
down the road at break neck speed, taking no
survivors, and never giving an inch. Given this
scary scenario we decided that a tour would be
best for us.
We woke early had breakfast and drove into
Fairbanks to meet our tour bus.

There were several tours to choose from. There
was a flight to Barrow, the furthest northern
point in Alaska. A fly and drive to Prudhoe Bay
with a cultural program, and pipeline tour. And
the Arctic Circle bus tour. We chose, the latter,
a 16 hour tour that drove the ‘haul road’ stopped

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along the way for lunch and lectures about the
wilderness.

The Northern Alaska Tour Company offered it
on Tuesday, a good day for us at $99 each. That
was pretty inexpensive, and it accomplished just
about everything we wanted to do. It also gave
us protection from the weather. For we didn’t
know if we were going into the frozen north
where heavy snow storms could paralyze
travelers in moments.
It didn’t take long to realize that we had made the
right choice. Just outside of the borough of
Fairbanks we came across a lineup of cars and
pick-up trucks. They were all parked along the
road, waiting a turn to fill their water tanks. Like
the Ranger in town our driver explained the
water conditions in Alaska.

Outside the major cities there was no water,
except from deep wells. He had known several
people that had drilled through the permafrost
only to end up with either no water fit to drink or
bad water. The conditions in the north made
finding water a real guess work, and very
expensive. Mostly, people use the water from
public sources. Here along the road was an open
running well that everyone used.

The road had been graded and we were whipping
along for the first 10 miles, then it deteriorated to
gravel, dirt and dust. It was about 1 ½ lanes
wide. However, one could see a long distances.

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That was good for tourists, but even better for
the driver. By looking ahead he could see the
dust clouds kicked up by an on coming trucker.
That signaled him to look for a pull off to get off
the road and wait for the truck to pass.

The day was beautiful, with some light clouds in
the blue sky. The rolling country had a few black
spruce on the green hills of the arctic tundra.
























As we drove along we could see the famous
Alaskan pipeline on one side of the road. It was
a half-mile or so from us, and shimmered in the
morning sun.

We were told that we would stop beside it and
have a chance to walk around. It wasn’t long
before we pulled off the road and stopped near a
sign that announced the Pipeline and it’s right of
way.
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We all climbed out of the bus and started
walking around. The first thing we noticed was
that the pipes were large, maybe two yards in
diameter.





















































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Every 100 yards it was supported by a couple of
pylons set in concrete. On top of each stanchion
was a solar panel that helped heat the oil.



















































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There was a cross member with a cradle that the
pipe laid on. The cradle itself was on a platform
that had four rubber like springs.



























We learned that this was all very technical. The
oil that flows from Prudhoe Bay to Valdez must
be kept warm enough to move. It is therefore
incased in an insulated pipe to keep the
temperature high enough. The stanchions
perform several jobs, they keep the pipe above
the permafrost, through the solar panels they
heat the oil, and the cradle and springs protect
the pipe from foul weather and high winds. The
latter is like earthquake protection in buildings. It
allows the pipe to sway without breaking or
falling into the permafrost below.




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We have encountered the permafrost ever since
we entered Canada. And of course read about
the problems the military had with it while
constructing the Alcan Highway. They in fact
lost several bulldozers and half tracks which were
swallowed up by it when the earth melted.

Permafrost is earth that has been frozen for two
or more years. It has characteristics that cause
water to slow or even stop moving, thus
retarding ground water aquifers. That is the
major problem trying to drill a well here.
It further preserves organic matter, and inhibits
its growth. Thus we have what’s called Tundra, a
low, slow growing vegetation. It’s said that if you
scuff the moss off the ground that it could take 5
years for it to grow back.

It’s estimated that 25% of the land on earth is
covered in permafrost, and about 85% of Alaska.
The icy cold isn’t the problem anyone has when
trying to construct something. The military in
1942, the folks who built the pipeline, and
anyone else that has to do some kind of
construction usually does it in the winter when
the ground is frozen. No, their problems begin
when the permafrost melts, and rises above
freezing.

At that point it becomes like quicksand, and
won’t support anything. In addition, its melting
often causes the organic matter it’s preserved to
begin to rot and methane gas escapes. Methane
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gas is a major contributor to our earths over
heating.

The oil companies tried to solve their permafrost
problem by incasing the oil in an insulated pipe
so that it wouldn’t melt the permafrost. That
didn’t seem to be enough so they also raised it
above the ground when the permafrost was
encountered. If the ground was not permafrost
they dug deep into it and planted the pipeline
underground, like many of our utility lines. This
explained why sometimes we saw the pipeline
and sometimes didn’t.


























We were back on the road and becoming use to
the scenery. This time everyone was looking
ahead to see if they could see either the pipeline
off to the side, or a cloud of dust notifying us of

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a reckless trucker bearing down on us. For some
time we saw neither, but did come upon a clump
of black spruce and aspen trees.

It was another stop. This time it was a service
place along the road. It was the first one we’d
come to after 40 or 50 miles. And it had a name;
Joy, Alaska. A single homestead, a shed and a
couple of out-houses. It was the home of a
family with seven children. They’ve lived here all
the children’s lives and even wrote a book about
life in the Arctic.
They had a sign for the different garage services
they provided and their cost. That must really
help anyone caught out here with auto trouble.
They’d know how much it would cost before
they tried to fix it. Arlene wandered around and
found where they were building an out-house.
Because it looked like no work had been done on
it for some time, and the place hadn’t been
picked up…ever; we thought we’d encountered
another Alaskan trait. Like parts of the Ozarks,
maintenance wasn’t high on their list.

The neatest thing was a contraption that looked
like a well. It had a couple of logs arranged in a
triangular shape with a cross bar on a barrel and
rope. We used the crank to turn the barrel and
the rope lifted a wooden platform out of the
ground. It had frozen supplies on it. It was a
permafrost refrigerator. Everyone had a frozen




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coke. It was cool to say the least. Joy was indeed
a joy to visit.
























































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Once outside of Joy we continued to barrel
along. It was surprising that we hadn’t
encountered any trucks. Not one, either coming
or going in our direction. Surprising because
some folks say there are as many as 150 trucks a
day driving the road. I had moved up to the
front of the tour bus to be able to watch out for
anyone coming toward us. There was nothing,
but I was able to see the Yukon River. We were
approaching it and for the first time there was a
bridge spanning it.

The Yukon is a strange river, it runs north from
it’s origin at Lake Bennett in the Yukon beyond

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Dawson City to a place called Fort Yukon where
it turns west for several hundred miles before
turning south to its delta in the Bering Sea. All
that wandering around and there are only two
bridges. This one, along the Haul Road and
another at Carcross. Carcross is at the end of
Lake Bennett, and we are hoping to get there in a
month or so. This bridge was built along with
the pipeline. The Haul Road is named after
James Dalton, an engineer who supervised it’s
design and construction in 1974. It was built to
provide access to the pipeline. I guess money
was no object, as it might be if considering the
amount of traffic and the cost to build bridges
across this wide river.































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