Day 2
FAIRBANKS, Alaska – It's an otherworldly scene in the parking lot this morning, enveloped in ice frost we move about in swirling clouds of our own breath. Unfortunately, the pre-heater wasn't properly set in one of the vehicles, and after several attempts to get it running, the decision was made to leave it behind.
Our Norge, however, fired up like a champ.
It's bloody cold out there. Although the scenery is postcard lovely with fairy-tale trees encased in hoar frost, the recorded temperature was -47.
As we leave Fairbanks and the last vestiges of civilization behind, we pass a pair of moose who curiously watch our passage from the safety of the hillside.
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| Photo: Lesley Wimbush |
For a big, cumbersome icebox, Norge is proving to be fairly pleasant to drive.
The short wheelbase is slightly skittish on the really slippery bits, but it's surprising how well it manages the steep and sweeping curves.
We realized just how good the traction control system was when we slowly came to a complete stop on one of the more treacherously steep passes. Somehow, we'd inadvertently turned off the system which left the wheels spinning for purchase on the slick ice.
We pause to admire Finger Mountain, a barren, windswept plain punctuated by rocky outcroppings – a single digit raised in fierce defiance.
The roads are mainly sheer ice with a layer of gravel - which hits our windshields with the intensity of a rifle shot.
As we draw nearer to Coldfoot - the very last service point on the Dalton Highway before the "Haul Road" to the oilfields, the sun dips beneath the horizon, painting the mountain ranges with a rosy pink glow.
We pull into Coldfoot Camp – an establishment catering to truckers refuelling before the long drive to Prudhoe Bay. Although simple and rustic, we're grateful for the inviting warmth of the lodge. Nestled in a basin surrounded by mountains turned blue under the vast, crystalline sky, it's a magical place.