Day 4
FAIRBANKS, Alaska – The sun rising behind the Brooks range outlined the peaks with gold and cast pink and lemon streaks across the horizon. It was an awe-inspiring start to the day, but the roads grew slick under the sun's rays. Negotiating the mountain passes with their steep inclines and sweeping turns required care and attention at the wheel. Rather than jabbing at the brakes, we geared down to let the engine slow the Sprinters down during the steep descents.
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| Photo: Lesley Wimbush |
Since we'd driven a short wheelbase cargo van all the way to Coldfoot, my driving partner and I swapped for the long wheelbase version on the return trip. The longer vehicle was actually more stable during the turns, with less tendency to wag its tail or skitter about on rough patches.
We startle a trio of moose foraging in the brush by the roadside – what appeared to be two cows and a bull moose with a glorious full rack of antlers. They disappear in huge, powerful bounds.
Most of the time we're running parallel to the Alaska pipeline, an 800-mile, 48-inch vein that ferries black gold from the Arctic Ocean to Valdez. Until we drive right underneath it to reach a rest stop near the Yukon River, we had no idea of the actual size of the pipeline: we're dwarfed beneath it.
Occasionally we pass a solitary cabin, and I wonder at the sort of intrepid, frontier spirit that could survive in such a lonely outpost.
Although we'd arrived back in Fairbanks by late afternoon, it was already growing dark and most of us were weary from the 410 km drive – and lack of sleep. The route may have been simple – a single road, the Dalton Highway all the way back, the drive required all of our attention.
Though some of our group were eager to pay a visit to the North Pole – a kitschy tourist village with candy cane light poles – my single imperative was to find a hot shower and bed as soon as possible.