Alaskan Highway, part 1
The Alaska Highway was built back in the 40s as a route to get American stuff to Alaska through Canada. It starts in the south at Dawson Creek, where there is a nice large sign (two, actually) for pictures, and runs north to a place called Delta junction where there are two gas stations and a campground. Well, and a decent place to eat, to be honest.
I had mixed feelings about Dawson Creek and the sign, so when a local told me the road sucked and I needed to ride through the Peace River Valley, I was immediately interested. When I found out the Peace River was going to be dammed, and the valley was going away forever, I decided I had my route.
The extra day in Prince George meant I had excellent weather as I headed north.
The river had some nice views too.
I passed through the town of Chetwynd, which was the last gas for a while and the lines were very long. Luck for me they were mostly big RV's and Semis, so I just filtered in to a free pump that was being blocked. Once the fueling was done I took a moment to look at Chetwynd's civic art.
There were these wooden cravings all over the place.
Back on the road, I entered the valley proper. I knew I was there because of all the “Save the Peace River Valley” signs.
I could see their point.
I camped near Charlie Lake, then got onto the ALCAN proper the next day. At my first fuel stop I met this guy -
Jeremy, from the Isle of Man. He shipped the bike to New York, and rode across Canada to Dawson Creek. I had seen his bike back in Banff, but hadn't thought about it much. Little did either of us know that we would be seeing each other all the way south. (I guess those VFR's aren't actually all that fast, since Curiosity could keep up).
I met these people and their totally awesome retro RV
I got a brief tour and learned the owner had 4 or 5, which he used to keep one running. He was with his wife and sister-in-law, and despite that seemed to be have a really good time. So much so that I met them again about 30 minutes out of town. He had forgotten to get gas and had run out. The mounties were already on the way with gas.
One thing about the ALCAN, it really is the only road. Since everyone travels at different speeds, sometimes you need people once, and sometimes you keep running into them over and over. These Rver's I did run into again, further north. The Mounties had brought 5 gallons of gas for their RV, which got them half way back to town. Another trip was needed. If there was a cost he didn't tell me.
That is Stone Mountain, where I was headed. The road went not quite over it, and I had heard there was camping at the top. This turned out to be less than perfect, since it was also cold at the top (it was August, and it wasn't supposed to be cold as far as I was concerned). I ended up passing on the mountain top view, and went down the far side to a place called Toad River.
No, there weren't any toads. It was a swallow place in the river that require boats to be pulled along with ropes from the shore. It seems the locals at the time had some spelling issues. At least, that is what the article in the menu of the lodge said.
Toad river was typical of a town on the ALCAN. There was somewhere to camp, gas, a small store, a couple of buildings. The larger ones had an airstrip. Since turning onto the road I had been on chipseal, tar with gravel pressed into it. I saw a couple of cars and trucks a day, and the distance between fuel stops was around 100-150 miles.
And it was all amazingly beautiful.
Back on the road and headed North and West, it was getting cooler, especially at night, but the days were still perfect.
I set my destination for the day as Watson Lake, which was only a short ride. I felt like I had been pushing myself and the bike too hard the last few days, partly stunned at how big Canada was. I could ride for hours and it seemed like I hadn't moved on the map at all, which can be a little depressing. So, the short day. Oh, and Watson Lake does have something else to attract attention -
I went to the visitor center to ask about camping and eating choices. While the ladies there were more than happy to suggest a campground, they wouldn't give any hints on where to eat. I was a little annoyed by this, but got over it when they gave me detailed fuel locations for the two routes north from Watson Lake. I had been thinking about the Robert Campbell Highway, but the fuel stop I had on my map had, in fact, closed. That meant I would be just about on fumes before reaching the next fuel stop unless I packed extra fuel.
At the campground they immediately directed to a restaurant which had excellent food. They were also able to tell me the places that sold gas cans, but as it turned out the smallest I could get was 3 gallons. That was more gas than I carried in my tank, and the can was so big there wasn't a good place to secure it on the bike. So I decided to stay on the ALCAN. Then I spend some time in the signpost forest.
In the morning I packed back up and got back on the road. Alaska was still far away.
The Alaska Highway was built back in the 40s as a route to get American stuff to Alaska through Canada. It starts in the south at Dawson Creek, where there is a nice large sign (two, actually) for pictures, and runs north to a place called Delta junction where there are two gas stations and a campground. Well, and a decent place to eat, to be honest.
I had mixed feelings about Dawson Creek and the sign, so when a local told me the road sucked and I needed to ride through the Peace River Valley, I was immediately interested. When I found out the Peace River was going to be dammed, and the valley was going away forever, I decided I had my route.
The extra day in Prince George meant I had excellent weather as I headed north.
The river had some nice views too.
I passed through the town of Chetwynd, which was the last gas for a while and the lines were very long. Luck for me they were mostly big RV's and Semis, so I just filtered in to a free pump that was being blocked. Once the fueling was done I took a moment to look at Chetwynd's civic art.
There were these wooden cravings all over the place.
Back on the road, I entered the valley proper. I knew I was there because of all the “Save the Peace River Valley” signs.
I could see their point.
I camped near Charlie Lake, then got onto the ALCAN proper the next day. At my first fuel stop I met this guy -
Jeremy, from the Isle of Man. He shipped the bike to New York, and rode across Canada to Dawson Creek. I had seen his bike back in Banff, but hadn't thought about it much. Little did either of us know that we would be seeing each other all the way south. (I guess those VFR's aren't actually all that fast, since Curiosity could keep up).
I met these people and their totally awesome retro RV
I got a brief tour and learned the owner had 4 or 5, which he used to keep one running. He was with his wife and sister-in-law, and despite that seemed to be have a really good time. So much so that I met them again about 30 minutes out of town. He had forgotten to get gas and had run out. The mounties were already on the way with gas.
One thing about the ALCAN, it really is the only road. Since everyone travels at different speeds, sometimes you need people once, and sometimes you keep running into them over and over. These Rver's I did run into again, further north. The Mounties had brought 5 gallons of gas for their RV, which got them half way back to town. Another trip was needed. If there was a cost he didn't tell me.
That is Stone Mountain, where I was headed. The road went not quite over it, and I had heard there was camping at the top. This turned out to be less than perfect, since it was also cold at the top (it was August, and it wasn't supposed to be cold as far as I was concerned). I ended up passing on the mountain top view, and went down the far side to a place called Toad River.
No, there weren't any toads. It was a swallow place in the river that require boats to be pulled along with ropes from the shore. It seems the locals at the time had some spelling issues. At least, that is what the article in the menu of the lodge said.
Toad river was typical of a town on the ALCAN. There was somewhere to camp, gas, a small store, a couple of buildings. The larger ones had an airstrip. Since turning onto the road I had been on chipseal, tar with gravel pressed into it. I saw a couple of cars and trucks a day, and the distance between fuel stops was around 100-150 miles.
And it was all amazingly beautiful.
Back on the road and headed North and West, it was getting cooler, especially at night, but the days were still perfect.
I set my destination for the day as Watson Lake, which was only a short ride. I felt like I had been pushing myself and the bike too hard the last few days, partly stunned at how big Canada was. I could ride for hours and it seemed like I hadn't moved on the map at all, which can be a little depressing. So, the short day. Oh, and Watson Lake does have something else to attract attention -
I went to the visitor center to ask about camping and eating choices. While the ladies there were more than happy to suggest a campground, they wouldn't give any hints on where to eat. I was a little annoyed by this, but got over it when they gave me detailed fuel locations for the two routes north from Watson Lake. I had been thinking about the Robert Campbell Highway, but the fuel stop I had on my map had, in fact, closed. That meant I would be just about on fumes before reaching the next fuel stop unless I packed extra fuel.
At the campground they immediately directed to a restaurant which had excellent food. They were also able to tell me the places that sold gas cans, but as it turned out the smallest I could get was 3 gallons. That was more gas than I carried in my tank, and the can was so big there wasn't a good place to secure it on the bike. So I decided to stay on the ALCAN. Then I spend some time in the signpost forest.
In the morning I packed back up and got back on the road. Alaska was still far away.
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