Down the Dalton to Fairbanks
/After the Prudoe Bay tour, we parked for the night in a large gravel turnout about 100 yds off the Dalton at the Bill Meyer Lake. It was cold, foggy and drizzling when we stretched our legs in the morning. We could hear the distinctive calls of a loon and soon spotted the source… a whole loon family peacefully swimming by. If the fog had subsided, we’d planned to return to Deadhorse to explore a bit more, but it didn’t, so we regretfully headed back south down the Dalton.
We were heading back to the Galbraith Campground for the night, retracing our route on the Dalton. It was slow going with the limited visibility. Bow hunting season for caribou had opened and hunters’ tents were lined up along the Sak River and pitched along the highway at every turnout.
Evidently the caribou were aware of the hunters because we saw none today. We did, however, spot a sandhill crane wandering along the riverside. His mate was probably somewhere nearby, lost to us in the mist.
Fog became a gray, overcast sky and then became fog once again… sometimes thicker than before. Combined with a washboard gravel road, the 5-hour ride, 136 mile ride back to Galbraith seemed endless.
Miraculously, there was no pilot car today at the construction area and most of the work had been completed on a large portion of the road. Huge pieces of machinery lay idle on the side of the road. We spotted a red fox walking along midst all the heavy equipment.
At one rest stop, a northern wheatear, a new species for us, posed briefly before flying off with its mate.
We spent an uneventful night at Galbraith and lingered the next morning in hopes that the ubiquitous pea soup fog that’s been plaguing us would have burned off. No such luck. We headed out into the brume once again. The ascent and descent over Atigun Pass was exceptionally slow. We couldn’t see a thing.
Along the Chandalar Shelf, Alaska cotton grass abounded around the ponds and soon we began to see trees once again.
Once over the pass, the fog mixed with smoke… heavy, thick, acrid smoke from the Lost Horse Creek Fire raging north of Fairbanks. The air quality was barely breathable as noted later by the weather alert we received when we pulled into the Marion Creek Campground.
The sun peeked through the thick smoky haze.
Creatures of habit, we returned to Marion Creek Campground again. We found a site without a problem, but the park had more residents than last time. The hunters had arrived.
We’d missed the tiny community of Wiseman on our trip north, so we took the opportunity to drive through it this time. it There’s not much to see. There are several cabins, all privately owned and in different states of repair or disrepair. Wiseman was described as ‘the way Alaska used to be’. It’s rough and rustic. Buildings are utilitarian, able to withstand cold temperatures and a harsh climate.
We returned to the Interagency Visitor Center in Coldfoot briefly to buy a few souvenirs and get in a few steps along one of the nature trails. Filling up with gas in Coldfoot was painful, but necessary. We checked on the fire status heading south and all was safe for travel. However, we learned that the Wickersham Dome where we’d camped on the way up was now closed to visitors and reserved for firefighters and equipment only. Weekend storms in Fairbanks had evidently sparked more fires in the area.
The evening at Marion Creek Campground was lovely… mild and warm-ish. Though still a bit hazy from the smoke, the air quality had improved substantially by day’s end. The lingering smoke enhanced the sunset. As we’ve begun heading south, the days have begun to shorten. Sunset is at 11pm now and diminishing at a rate of ~6 minutes/day.
Having internet available definitely slows our morning pace. We were up early enough, but frittered away the better part of the morning reading the paper, catching up on emails, making phone calls and doing research. David made an appointment for an oil change in Fairbanks. He’s also looking into new ‘shoes’ for Blanche. Her tires are showing their wear… go figure! A pancake breakfast at the campsite had us finally back onto the Dalton in the late morning. We only had 70 miles to go to the Arctic Circle Campground…no hurry.
The day was sunny but still the smoky haze prevailed. We surmised the air quality hadn’t improved as much as we thought, but rather we were becoming nose blind. At the Arctic Circle Campground, we staked out a spot with several to choose from. By evening, however, most every site was taken. Using The Milepost and a brochure I’d picked up, we made our plans for things to see and do in Fairbanks.
The wind blew fiercely all through the night. We woke early and prepared to leave. It’s easier to get moving and on the road when there’s no internet and there are no diversions like reading the newspaper to delay you. We were on a mission now… get to Fairbanks. We passed by Finger Rock with nary a nod. A quick stop at the Yukon River Contact Station was only for a leg stretch and a pee. We were looking forward to pavement and smooth travel.
At last… the Welcome to the Dalton Highway sign where a requisite photo was taken of a very filthy Blanche and then we reclaimed the sweet, sweet pavement of the Eliot Highway.
An afterthought…
Though the scenery was incredible and the animal sightings were wonderful, there is no escaping the omnipresence of the pipeline on this road. We drove over it, under it and around it. It’s presence is pervasive as it should be, I guess, since after all, it was the sole reason for building the road in the first place. Of all the photos I took on this 1000 mile journey, the pipeline dominates the bulk of the shots.
Was it worth the 1000 miles of mostly gravel road and wilderness? An unequivocal and resounding yes. Would we do it again? Absolutely… not soon though.
On to Fairbanks…
We headed directly to the River’s Edge RV Park on the banks of the Chena River, secured a spot and headed to the hot showers. Chena’s Alaskan Grill, within the park and only a 10 minute walk away, was a perfect spot for dinner and a great way to end our Dalton Highway journey.
Next morning, we dug into chores immediately. First order of business… a bath for Blanche at the park’s on-site DIY car wash. While David washed Blanche’s outside, I detailed the inside. We caught up on emails, blogs, bills, and correspondence. The laundry got done. Whew!
Chores done, we checked our ‘things to see and do in Fairbanks’ list. It was long… cultural center, museum, statues, breweries, churches. Join us next time as we explore Fairbanks, the Golden Heart of the interior.