Me, I’m in the dog house. “You let yourself down, you let the side down, you let the school down”. I’m Bradley Cooper on the phone at the beginning of the movie ‘The Hangover’, with a remorseful, almost tearful “I effed up”. Allow me to explain…

The normal split of responsibilities on our road trips is pretty straightforward:

Darren = forward looking, meaning all the planning – route planning, sorting out co-working spaces and booking campsites. Oh and driving.

Me = backward looking, meaning writing the blog (and a more detailed journal), sorting photos and collages, and doing the one second everyday video. In keeping with the backward looking theme, when Darren’s reversing the BaseCamp, I help (or hinder) by making sure he doesn’t hit anything.

However, when Canada came into play, the planning bit just got a whole lot more complicated, not to mention time consuming. So I got put in charge of whatever it took to get us over the border. No pressure! From researching Covid testing options to finding a testing location that met all the criteria, obtaining and uploading an abundance of documentation, to checking border crossing options and wait times, that was all me. I even phoned the border crossing we were planning to go through to check and the official patiently explained to me (as you would to a moron) that the border itself had never actually closed down. In the end, all went smoothly and I was massively proud of myself, pat on the back for me.

Job done, I then realized we would have to go through the same rigmarole again after Alaska (to drive back through Canada) and got stuck into planning that with gusto. Maybe there was an inbuilt assumption that I was also owning the border crossing to get IN to Alaska. Unfortunately (in my defense), there was no explicit discussion on this.

Along with my Covid research for Canada, I did check on the testing requirement to get into Alaska, just in case (didn’t need one). I might even have vaguely googled the Alaska border crossings, and didn’t note anything of concern. But it didn’t get the same love and attention as the Canada border crossing did, as I just assumed it was a done deal – after all, by re-entering the US, we’re going home.

Our plan was to drive northwest from Whitehorse, up the Klondike highway to Dawson City (not to be confused with Dawson Creek at the start of the Alcan), the most northerly point of our trip – level with Greenland. From there, we’d continue into Alaska via the Top of the World border crossing until we hit Anchorage. Total mileage for the weekend, approx 800.

After getting a couple of hours driving in on Friday evening, and setting off at dawn on Saturday, we rolled into Dawson City around lunchtime. Only to pass a sign that mentioned, as if in passing, that the Top of the World border crossing was closed. I assumed they meant closed to Canadians (as the US has yet to reciprocate the border opening for Canadian citizens), and casually went about my business, using up the last of my Canadian pennies on blueberries at the Farmers Market and stocking up on Canadian salt & vinegar crisps to get me through three weeks in the US.

Imagine my horror when we double checked at the Visitor Center and they told us nope, the Top of the World border crossing really was proper closed. (“You’ve let yourself down…”). Ever wish the world would swallow you up whole?

There’s seriously not a lot of roads up here. Our only ONLY option was to drive from Dawson City back to Whitehorse (a mere 330 miles) and take the Alcan into Alaska from there.

Ya’see, no good alternatives…

Darren’s meltdown was relatively minor considering!!! To put this in perspective on the mileage:

For my American friends, it’s like planning to drive from Santa Clarita to Denver, Colorado over the weekend. You’re a little confused on navigation and drive as far as San Francisco before realizing you’ve gone the wrong way. At that point, you have to retrace your steps to Santa Clarita. And then you still have to drive to Denver in time for work on Monday. Hitting a four hour traffic jam along the way.

For the Brits, it’s like driving from London to northern Italy via Scotland. Yes, that’s right, you read it right. It’s only when you reach Gretna Green that you realize that’s not the way to Italy, doh! And all this, towing a caravan.

Welcome to our world.

The roads this far north in Canada were quiet for sure. But you’ve got to take into account the frost heaves and pot holes that could swallow you whole, the intermittent gravel roads during construction where you have to wait up to 20 minutes for an escort car, not to mention the wildlife and scenery distractions.

I’m sure at some point, maybe in the far distant future, we’ll recite this as a “That one time, at Band Camp” fireside story. “Remember that time we went to the top of the world and back for blueberries. Best blueberries I’ve ever had in my life!” But for now, I think I’ll just keep my head down.

In the meantime,here’s some pictures from our weekend road trip: Whitehorse to Anchorage, via Dawson City. 1,410 miles.

Found this awesome spot to camp on Friday night, Five Finger Rapids
Driving done for the night, settled in with a glass of red
C’mon Darren, get the drone out
Thanks!
Helloooo, bottom of the two flights of stairs, that’s me
Saturday morning, ready to go to Alaska, bring it on!
Morning coffee stop
View down to Pelly Crossing
Turn off to the Arctic. Not that stupid, we didn’t go that way.
Mixed weather as we continued north west
Top of the World: Dawson City. Make the most of it, I didn’t get many pics here before we realized the error of our (my) ways.
The farmers market in Dawson City. I can recommend it for sure, if only for blueberries. They were very good! Not sure worth a 660 mile detour though, in hindsight.
OK, deep breath. This was Five Finger Rapids (again) on the way back. No time for stopping and chilling any more. Onwards, back to Whitehorse.
Beyond Whitehorse and finally heading west again. Not so glamorous a stop for Saturday night but hey, beggars and choosers and all that.
Morning came and I snapped a pic of my step streak, just in case yesterday was the final day. Didn’t want to push my luck asking for extra stops to get a hike in.
Sunday morning view down to Kluane National Park (still in Canada by the way)
Driving, driving, driving…
Morning breakfast stop at Destruction Bay along the AlCan
Bit cloudy but c’mon, pretty awesome
Back on the road again and I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with Grizzly Bear…
Minding his own business, just moseying along…
Oh, hang on a minute, I think he spies us too.
Wassamatta? Never seen a BaseCamp before?
“Just checkin’ if there’s any McDonalds wrappers down here”
“Don’t mind me, just doing my thing, moving right along”
“Hang on a minute, that’s a dang cool camper you got there!”
“Safe travels. You and me, let’s get back to doing our own thing…”
I was enraptured by the start of the turn of the fall season. Just a lone Aspen turning in this pic in front of the pines and a fresh dump of snow on the mountains.
Don’t tell me… it cannot be… I spy America.
For a while there, getting through the US border didn’t seem much of a reality.
Bring. It. On.
How in holy hell did we make it here?
(Only 400 miles and 8 hours of driving still to go to get to Anchorage.)
Not just happy for us. Happy to bring the BC here.
I’m sure it’s realized one of its very own dreams.