People say it’s about the journey rather than the destination. Never is that more true than for a road trip.

A 5,000+ mile road trip is not for everyone. It entails a lot of driving for a start. So hats off to Darren for doing all the driving and not even trying to bully me into it (even though I was sorely tempted with the heated massage seat that came along with it!).

But along with the passage of miles and the passing of time comes a sense of appreciation. Appreciation of a damn good holiday for sure, but more than that. For starters, an appreciation of the enormity of North America and the vast untouched remoteness. If you cut Alaska in half and made it into two states, Texas would be the third largest state. As for Canada, we barely dipped our toe in the water. And cutting right through all of that are the impressive roads that made our trip possible – the AlCan and Cassiar Highways. Frost-heaved and patchy in places but on the whole, I’d say pretty damn good. Think they could teach the folks working on southern California highways a lesson or two!

We also had an appreciation of the variety of terrain. We thought there’d be some ‘boring bits’ along the way where there was nothing to look at. Not the case. Particular highlights included the Icefields Parkway in Jasper National Park, the Guardsman pass en route to Haines, and the Glenn Highway/Tok Cut Off near Anchorage. But whilst some scenery was obviously more impressive than others, the constant changes in landscape kept it interesting. 

Throw in there our thirst for wildlife, constantly on spotting duty for bears, moose, caribou and the like – and you have hours of entertainment. We didn’t even need to resort to ‘I Spy’.

We did supplement our feast for the eyes with a feast for the ears though. We had lined up a couple of audible talking books: Stephen King’s 11-22-63 (quite different from his earlier horror based books, I’d recommend this dalliance into history and time travel – although maybe the abridged version unless you’ve got a loooong road trip to kill), and A Man Called Ove (a somewhat lighthearted, humorous take on a grumpy old man with hidden depths – highly recommended). Not to mention good old Answer Me This podcast. (Not for everyone but an entertaining, down to earth, and very British take on answering personal dilemmas and other questions that are not so readily available on Google).

Another top road trip tip is to mix up the long driving days with not so long driving days, throwing in walks, hikes, runs, yoga (and abundant coffee and biscuit stops) wherever possible. 

It’s also good to strike a balance between overnights in the wilderness, just us and a frozen river or vast lake for company, with some civilization – access to people and places (i.e., generally near a brewery). Speaking of breweries, I have three call outs tying for top spot. Toolshed in Calgary had a great Belgian golden ale, a friendly barman and was a welcome respite from the rain. Secondly, I’m almost inclined to agree that Whitehorse Yukon Brewing does ‘Beer worth freezing for’ – a good variety of damn good beer. Last but not least, is Bleeding Heart in Palmer, Alaska.  Where else can you hang out with chickens and cows whilst you drink locally brewed craft beer?

On any holiday, you’re at the mercy of the elements. This was probably my primary concern in booking this trip, in particular given that it was out of season. Alaska in April… really? But a combination of low expectations, good preparation (think layers!) and good fortune resulted in a very pleasant surprise. Along the way, the locals were already venturing into t-shirt and shorts, even flip flops. 

I wouldn’t and didn’t quite go that far, but enough even for me to leave the woolly hat behind on occasion.  In fact, there’s only one evening it poured down (which ominously happened to be the night before our 10K run in Calgary). There’s something remotely comforting about the incessant hammering of rain on the roof of the campervan, the view through the windows obscured by raindrops, the occasional brave rivulet breaking from the pack in a race for freedom down the glass. Meanwhile, this was where the minimal square footage of the campervan came into its own – the tiny turbo charged heater transformed the truck into a cosy cocoon.

And so it is my last token of appreciation goes to the campervan. Indeed our home from home for three weeks. It was our home and our life for that time. Quite honestly, if you’re gonna do much longer, I think you need a bigger one. But for us, a great compromise between fuel economy and space. 

Important campervan points for future reference:

– Don’t store the beer on the top shelf of the fridge. Not one but two beer freezing incidents.

– Reconsider whether you really need eggs in your life. And secure the fridge door at all times. Hard boiled eggs: thumbs up. Raw eggs don’t tend to fare quite so well.

– Hot water bottles are amongst man’s most important inventions of all time.

– When you are told there’s “not much snow left” when clearly there is snow all around, translate to “you would be mad to try to snowshoe through that”.

They say a picture paints a thousand words. So no doubt a video even more. I’ve tried to paint a picture of what this holiday was for us. But Darren’s video does it even better with a one second clip for every day of the trip. If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading. The only thing that remains… is to decide where next…?

Chitina: Strangers in a Strange Town

Unlike Valdez which has both a winter season and a summer season for tourists, Chitina is a distinctly summer place, a salmon fishing mecca on the Copper River, the season for which starts at the beginning of July. As such, things in Chitina were kind of eerily quiet. However, we were heartened to see that one bar in town was open: Uncle Tom’s Tavern.  

The room fell silent as the Uncle Toms regulars tried to adjust their eyes to the apparition of strangers (think American Werewolf in London) through the haze of smoke at the bar. This is the type of place where they have jagermeister on tap but only one draught beer (albeit a good one: Alaska Icy Bay IPA). The type of place where the walls are adorned with license plates and bear skins, with a random assembly of carriage clocks and rifles behind the bar. And the beer served in mason jars. But it was actually the type of place that turned out to be quite friendly once the regulars got over their initial surprise at seeing us – we were congratulated with enthusiastic handshakes on officially being the first tourists of the year.

Copper River: Almost Back at Work

We were within spitting distance of the Princess Copper River Wilderness Lodge, and couldn’t pass by so close to ‘work’ without taking a sneaky peak. It hadn’t yet opened for the season but we wandered around the grounds, taking in the breathtaking views, pressing our noses up against the floor to ceiling windows – until we got told off. Turns out there were a few people there already, preparing for opening in a couple of weeks. 

It didn’t seem like a good time to let them know that I was a fellow employee, so we just scuttled back to the campervan, trying to look inconspicuous. Shame, I might have been tempted to pull rank for a free brunch if they’d been open.  Ended up going for a run instead.

We were able to get closer to the Matanuska glacier than any of the other glaciers on our trip. Luckily, this one didn’t entail any trekking through snow either. It did involve a hike over the gravelly moraine to get there, and it wasn’t until some way past the ‘do not go any further without a guide’ sign that we realized we were actually on the glacier itself. Pretty cool.

Probably the most dangerous aspect of getting to the glacier was the rickety wooden bridge we had to cross in the campervan!

In this transient in-between seasons period, not only were we too early for Summer activities, we were also too late for Winter ones. However, the woman in the tourist office in Valdez took pity on us and we were able to rent out snowshoes even though they closed two weeks ago. Not only that but we didn’t have to pay to rent them out. That’s right, free! There’s not a lot you get for nowt these days, but snowshoes in Alaska when there’s ‘not much snow left’ is one of them. A relative term obviously. And we had a trick up our sleeve… a snow covered mountain pass and a glacier.

As we approached the Thomson Pass for our snowshoe hike, we were greeted by cloud cover. The sort of dense low cloud that makes it indistinguishable where the snow covered mountains end and the sky begins. The sort of weather we’d been expecting every day but hadn’t really experienced until now. I’m not complaining though (apart from the fact that I’m not allowed to complain about the cold or the weather – see “The Rules”). We’ve actually had better weather on this trip than when we previously came to Alaska in July!

So the ‘not much snow’ thing turned out not to be an issue. Plenty of snow up here. What was an issue, or maybe just a bit of a challenge (she says, in a positive gung-ho kind of way) was the depth of the snow and the inability of the snow to hold the weight of an average person without collapsing. Believe me, breaking trail in soft deep snow is exhausting. You start off confidently striding along, each step nonchalant and casual. This doesn’t last long before mother nature puts you in your place. Your place being ankle deep, knee deep or thigh deep in snow.  

Ankle deep

Knee deep

Thigh deep

Before long, each and every foot placement has an element of caution – it’s unnerving not knowing how far you’re going to sink as you take your next step. The walking poles were no help either. With an even narrower concentration of weight, the poles offered an element of balance but were futile in any type of support role. After much of this, we realized the best way to get out of a deep snow hole is to roll out – using your other leg as leverage doesn’t work as that just sinks too. The deeper the snow, the harder it is to get out. So much for ‘not enough snow’!  

At which point, Darren found himself buried beyond thigh deep. I’d say around buttock deep. It stopped being funny around now. Actually, it stopped being funny a while ago, but remained mildly entertaining for a while. His thrashing attempts to dislodge himself only served to drive his snowshoe deeper into the snow, like quicksand. After much tugging, he had the inspired idea to take the snowshoe off, extract his foot that way and then rescue the snowshoe. A great idea but still took a hell of lot of brute force to dig the snowshoe out. Time to call it a day.

At least where we rejoined our tracks on the way back, we had a choice of stepping in the same holes or making new ones. The going eventually got easier and we were able to appreciate the Worthington Glacier and absorb the extent of Alaska scenery engulfing us.

Valdez, like most places we’ve been, was in-between seasons and kind of quiet.

However, one thing that is not seasonal is the long standing tradition of eagle feeding in Valdez, which happens every evening around 5pm.  Not too sure how I feel about this one – all normal guidance is to not feed wild animals to prevent them becoming dependent and associating humans with food. Telling myself that it probably helped the floundering local eagle population to recover, it was amazing to see these huge creatures gracefully sweep down, their timing perfect to catch the herring thrown high in the air with either their beaks or their powerful talons. And there’s only one permit to do this in the whole of Alaska and that’s right here, right now.

The quiet lull of the seasonal interlude didn’t stop the woman in the Safeway liquor store demanding ID from both of us when buying beer. As we’d just gone out for a casual walk and then just happened to think we’d stock up with a few beers on the way back, I didn’t have my ID with me. But surely that didn’t matter? Darren was buying the beer, I just happened to be tagging along for the ride? Nope, didn’t wash. OK, so I’ll go stand outside as if I’ve never even met Darren, and he can start over, come in alone and buy the beer? Nope. Really? Seriously? So now neither of us can buy beer because one of us doesn’t have ID? Correct. Grrrr.  

Twenty minutes later, I trudged back with my ID. My brain in another cartoon universe was punching her whilst calmly explaining her flawed logic. I won’t go into it here but I am more than happy to regale you next time we catch up in person with all the reasons this was so wrong. In real life I gritted my teeth with my tail between my legs, politely produced my ID and collected the beer. Sometimes you just have to go with it. Obtaining beer is one of those times. 

A defining moment on our trip, it was the first real chance we’d had to buy bottles of Alaskan beer in Alaska. (The Haines brewery we’d previously visited only had draught beer – no bottles!). This meant our collection of beers acquired along the way was now complete: one for each US State and Canadian Province/Territory that we’d passed through. Even though Darren racked up a few States before I joined him, it seemed only right that I help him out with all the beers! What a way to spend the night – blogging and drinking with your best friend, cozy and warm in the campervan, with seafront mountain views. I could get used to this campervan lark 🙂

Our coldest windiest night yet, but what a view to wake up to in our cheeky waterfront camping spot at Kathleen Lake. Next stop: Haines, Alaska.

As we were staying at a proper campsite, we thought now would be a good opportunity to have a proper shower. We’d been getting by with the tiny shower in the campervan (there would be no cat swinging going on in there), switching off the water mid-shower to apply shampoo and conditioner, so as to minimize water usage. I always went first though. Not that stupid. There was also lucrative use of sports wipes – like baby wipes but bigger. I was a tad concerned about more restricted water use when I realized the campsite shower was token driven. But it turns out that eight minutes is actually quite a long time in the shower. Eight glorious minutes. Easily pleased when you’re camping.

I was quite excited to be in another Alaska mecca, thought bubbles above my head materializing with beer and pizza. Although Darren did take the time to point out that it was only two days since we’d had our night out in Whitehorse, doing exactly that. And so it was, being creatures of habit, that we found ourselves at Haines brewery. 

Looking around at our fellow drinking buddies, I concluded that facial hair is a required feature for Alaskan men. Beards mostly, but the odd mustache too. A lumberjack shirt also helps. Darren didn’t quite have the fancy dress shirt, but with over two weeks since he’d had a shave, he was fitting right in.   

And so it came to pass that the next stop was… actually not a pizza place. Turns out they have a distillery in Haines. Nice branding, and actually the drinks weren’t bad either. Including the radioactive green absinthe (once I could get the vague recollections of flaming spoonfuls of sugar and absinthe out of my head – jeez, where was that?). Followed by pizza. OK, what’s your point?

As ‘Haines is for hiking’, we’d got our first one in upon arrival yesterday, and still had one on the cards before we left: Seduction Point trail to Moose Meadows. We headed into the dark fairytale forest, enjoying the peaty, springy feel underfoot, expecting trolls or pixies around every corner… or maybe moose. Much of the trail was a gnarly mass of tree roots, peppered with moss and fallen pine needles, with the odd ‘boardwalk’ to negotiate the boggier sections.  

We also noticed the distinctive yellow plants by the side of the trail, looking like they’d been recently munched. Not to mention the floor was littered with oodles of tell tale chocolate almond moose droppings. But it was only when we were approaching Moose Meadows that we saw: A moose! Actually two moose. (So… mooses? But then more than one mouse is mice. So… mises? No, doesn’t sound right, I think I’ll stick with moose.). Two moose. And one happy chick.