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Day 6 - 7:00 AM
We visit Santa's House
No need of an alarm-I'm awakened bright and early by the clattering of a cold diesel truck firing up right outside my window. As rustic as our accommodations may have been, hot water was plentiful and hot enough to scald a rhinoceros. After a hearty breakfast, we left Delta Junction and set out on the Richardson highway... which our driving companion, Mark, assures us was renamed in honour of his participation in this trek.
I'm elected to drive the first portion, with Mark and Tony Morris as travelling companions. Today we're driving the V6 Cayenne-although it had intermittently exhibited overheating symptoms, we found through experimentation that it ran sweetly at 3,000 rpm. The roads are dramatically better maintained than those on the Canadian side, and we're making good time. Mid-morning, we pull into "North Pole" Alaska, where we pause for photos of Santa's House.
Day 6 - 12:00 PM
Hooray for Starbucks!
It's almost with a sense of culture shock that we pull into Fairbanks; after so much overwhelming remoteness, the town of 30,000 seems like a teeming metropolis.
Ah, blessed relief! The java addicts in our party are overjoyed to find that there are three Starbucks locations here.
After scoring our caffeine fix, we climb back into our Cayennes and set our course for Coldfoot. The road runs parallel to the Alaska pipeline, an 800-mile, 48-inch vein that ferries black gold from the Arctic Ocean to Valdez.
Picking its way through the stunted trees lining the roadway, a cow moose moves unhurriedly up the slope, completely undisturbed by our passing. Miles of thin, blackened trunks and small twisted trees are the result of a 2008 wildfire that claimed 50,000 acres of forest in the Fairbanks region. It's a silent and desolate landscape.
Porsche Cayenne Arctic Route Adventure: some rolling footage
Day 6 - 3:00 PM
It's starting to get cold!
The road climbs steadily, and in some places the incline is as great as 12%. Trees grow even scarcer, then there is nothing but snow. The mountain's summit is bleak and barren, the snow drifts resemble rippled dunes pierced by jagged outcroppings of rock. The wind is fierce, and for the first time, we get a taste of arctic cold. Until now, we've been fortunate enough to experience temperatures of no less than -10 Celsius. I am glad to return to the warm comfort of the Cayenne's cabin as we make our descent from this lonely yet hauntingly lovely place.
Day 6 -1:45 AM
We're officially in the Arctic
There's much cheering as we reach the Arctic Circle. A winding road leads off the main highway to a clearing with an information outlook. Apparently, keeping with some strange masochistic tradition, my driving partner Mark strips down to his boxers, Toronto Star in hand, and poses beside the colourful Arctic Circle sign. That's an image I won't soon forget.
We pull into Coldfoot Camp at 7:00, the sun still high in the sky. Basically a stop for the long-haul truckers, it consists of a featureless, L-shaped bunker ambitiously dubbed The Slate Creek Inn and a large central lodge surrounded by idling rigs.
After consuming a huge dinner, we decide to grab our laptops and work in the pub. Although our rooms are clean, they're dismally spartan. Laptops spread out on the bar, we're entertained by a delightful young woman called Ashley, a graduate student from Iowa who's making big dollars serving Coldfoot Ale and pub food to the truckers who pass through.
We just can't manage to stay awake any longer, although we're told that the fabled Northern Lights are at their spectacular best after 3 am. It's about 1:30 as I stumble to my room, the air crisp, a shimmering swath of milky light spanning the black sky.