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Day 7 - 7:00 AM
Yippee Cayenne!
Today was probably the first time we realized how extreme conditions are for the intrepid folks who make their living on the northern tip of the pipeline.
Of course, if you're gonna sit on a barstool with your laptop, chances are pretty good that you're going to hear some interesting stories. I chatted with a couple of long-haul truckers who ferry loads from Fairbanks to the Prudhoe Bay oilfield via the 667-km Dalton Highway. Once we leave Coldfoot, we'll be approaching the section of road that's considered one of the most dangerous in the world. They refer to it as "Haul Road" and they warned me to drive slowly and above all-to yield to all rigs encountered. Theirs is a wild and wooly credo, they do give you room, but if you mess with them-all of their brethren encountered up the road will already know about it. The Haul Road is hard-packed with a deep cover of sheet ice to protect the fragile tundra from the trucks' chains. We're going to have to take it slowly on our snow tires.
Day 7 - 9:30 AM
Population: 21
About 80 km out of Coldfoot, we stop at Wiseman, a small mining settlement established on Slate Creek in 1919. It's inhabited by about 21 intrepid souls-you'd really have to have a love of solitude to survive in this tiny village. As we're leaving, we startle two moose browsing in the underbrush on the village's outskirts. They're huge, resembling giant, misshapen horses.
Day 7 - 11:00 AM
Haul Road
We're approaching the Atigun Pass. Made famous by the Ice Road Truckers Reality Show, it's a treacherous, sheer-ice road that diagonally traverses the mountain range at an elevation of 4,739 feet. The tree line has dwindled out, the landscape is harsh yet beautiful. We wait behind a rig carrying an oversize load while he puts chains on. He's accompanied by two outriders in diesel pickups, one ahead, one behind, who warn oncoming trucks of his oversize load.
Ours is a slow and careful convoy-this is one road where you don't want to prove your bravado. The road is glossy in places, chewed in others where the chains have bitten deeply. Clinging to the side of an 8,000-ft mountain, we make our careful progression upwards. An occasional rig passed in a flurry of snow, rocks and grit, like a freight train rushing by. I'm hanging out the window shooting video, tears streaming down my cheeks from the force of the wind and stinging snow. Visibility isn't great, but we can see the enormous peaks rising all around us, enveloped in mist. I feel somewhat insignificant surrounded by such ancient enormity.
Day 7 - 3:00 PM
We made it
We survived the Atigun Pass! It feels like a sort of frontiersman rite of passage. The landscape has become eerily bleak, the snow forms a kind of drifting alien sculpture. The light is hazy - and things take on an alien appearance.
Mile after mile, the road is defined only by markers, an occasional rig appearing through the swirling snow like some huge primordial beast.
Day 7 - 5:00 PM
Finally, we've reached the unfortunately named Deadhorse. It's the last stop before the oil field of Prudhoe Bay and the end of the Dalton Highway. Our lodging is a large bunker perched on steel legs approximately four feet above the ground. In every direction, the view is vast, flat tundra, here and there are huddled groups of strange machinery.
I'm particularly taken with a row of trucks that ride on huge, deeply treaded tracks. I'm stopped while trying to photograph them by a geologist, who explains that they're seismic measuring vehicles that pound the ground, creating sound waves. These waves describe what lies below the tundra to a depth of 37,000 feet!
Day 7 - 7:00 PM
Deadhorse Inn
Dinner is surprisingly excellent - glazed salmon and prime rib with accompanying side dishes. It's served up by a cheerful, well-spoken young Oklahoman, Justin, who now lives here year-round delivering first-class hospitality at the Deadhorse Inn. Justin tells us that there are only about 20 full-time residents here, and at times up to 5,000 part-time, depending on the oil production. Prudhoe Bay is home to the largest oil field in the world - and the site is restricted to credentialed employees. During the summer months, there are guided tours to Deadhorse, and special restricted access can be granted in advance for visits to Prudhoe Bay. Behind our bunker are rows of trailers almost completely enveloped in snow, which Justin tells us are used for tourist accommodation in the summer. Many of the visitors are conservationists. The area is extremely environmentally sensitive, and great care is taken not to damage the fragile tundra.
There's an otherworldly quality to the atmosphere, a haze around the sun during the day, and deep blue sky at night that casts an eerie light through my bedroom window.