The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

August 8 Day 34 Muncho Lake to somewhere along 97

I suppose days like yesterday only come one at a time. We woke at Muncho Lake this morning, same place we went to sleep last night, but it didn’t take long for the magic to dissipate as we traveled east and south, leaving the Rocky Mountains behind and moving onto the great inland plateau that makes up a large part of British Columbia.

When we settled in for the night, Mo wanted to load the kayaks, but I had visions of a silent morning paddle on that beautiful lake. Instead morning brought strong winds, even in the early light, and we loaded up the boats and were on the road by 8am. This part of BC is gorgeous, and the road passes through Muncho Lake Provincial Park and then through Stone Mountain Provincial Park. It’s a narrow road, but not bad, with a few curves here and there and a natural, meandering kind of mode that was fun to drive.

We saw more Stone Mountain Sheep at their namesake park, all standing in the road along the highway and in the highway, looking almost exactly as they do in the Milepost photo. Very cute critters, but I’m not sure what it is that they find along the road that is so interesting. Once beyond the park, the road dropped down to follow the Tetsa River, and the views in all directions were wonderful.

We pulled into the Tetsa Campground with the promise of fresh baked bread, and I checked in at the camp store to find perfect round loaves of fresh sourdough bread and a warm cinnamon bun that was hands down ten times better than the famous buns on the Klondike Highway. On the counter in the crockpot, was a bubbling pot of incredibly good smelling soup, so I bought a bowl of that as well for our supper to go with the bread. The owner was charming and conversational, with that far northern accent that I am getting used to.

Continuing east we crossed the last of the Northern Rocky Mountains as we moved onto the plateau. The trees were thick and the aspen and birch was dark green, but there wasn’t much else to see all the way in to Fort Nelson. Some agenda items: get water, dump, get gas, get money, get food, wash the rigs. We succeeded in the first few, with a stop at the visitor center that yielded information about where to find an ATM. Right next to the ATM was a pizza place, and we haven’t had pizza in more than a month, so we ordered one to go.

The city operates a free dump and water station near the museum, so we took advantage of that, planning to boondock somewhere tonight and wanting to be sure we had enough water for baths. I still have sulfur in my hair and it does feel a bit weird. While parked at the pizza place, I discovered a hot spot and managed to upload a few photos and a single blog post while checking email and doing some more banking. Mo was anxious to get the rigs washed, so after I stopped into the IGA for supplies, we headed over to the car wash.

It’s hard to explain just how these kinds of chores can seem to take so long, can be so tiresome and can really take the shine out of a day. Before we washed the rigs, we needed fuel, and I paid the highest price ever at 1.46 per liter. I put 225 Canadian into the tank and it was still only 3/4 full. Trying to get out of the station added more frustration as some woman from Alaska seemed to think the middle of the driveway was the place to park while she shopped and took on water. When I asked her to move so we could get out, she pulled forward a few feet and then got out to do more stuff. Duh! Excuse me, but please, we would like to GET OUT OF THIS PLACE!

Not so fast, we still have the rigs to wash. Just a couple of doors down from the FasGas was a car wash with a bay big enough for both rigs and we just slid into position without a hitch. I went to get loonies, and the proprietor informed me it used only toonies, with each toonie giving one minute of wash time. I looked at Mo, we looked at the MoHo, and thought about just how far ten bucks would take us in that filthy mess. Maybe not.

We pulled out of town in a ton of traffic, lots of pickup trucks driving south to work the second shift on the huge natural gas plant south of town. In 1957, Fort Nelson didn’t even have power, but now with oil shale and natural gas the place it starting to really boom. It was actually hot for the first time since we left the lower 48, with a humid 90 plus degrees showing on the thermometer.

We are now driving south on the Alaska Highway, BC highway 97. Advertised road condition says wide road, 2 lane good pavement all the way to Dawson Creek. As the miles pass I think we are both feeling a bit better. It does make me wonder how things will feel when we have to deal with reentry into traffic and the frustrations of a populated world. For the time being, we plan to find another wide place in the road to boondock tonight, eat our pizza and drink a well deserved beer.

Later: Around 4 pm, maybe 40 or 50 miles south of Fort Nelson at an unnamed creek, Mo suddenly said, “Hey, this looks good!”. We crossed the little bridge and turned down the tiny road on the east side of the highway toward a nice wide area along the creek. Perfect.

It was hot. After settling in we made sure the fan was on before taking Abby for a walk down to the stream. Not sure why, but the stream was a dull brown color, hopefully not some sort of runoff from the oil fields. We heated up our pizza and relaxed with dinner, turned on the water heater for a good shower, and then, bam. Two big rigs saw that little narrow road as well and rumbled down into “our” campsite, jumped out, hollered at each other while backing and proceeded to set up their nice little camp, chairs and all, right out our front window.

Ok. Right. I’m a jerk. It’s NOT my campground, it’s not my creek, and they have just as much a right to be here as I do. Bummer. I have been spoiled rotten, and its time to get back to the real world. ugh. Little black flies are buzzing around INSDIE the MoHo, and I’m not sure how they got here. Big black spruce beetles are hanging out on the screen. Did I mention that it’s hot? Mo is hiding away in her book on the sofa, oblivious to my grumblings. Smart.

Miles driven today: about 230 from stop 20 to stop 21 on the Streets and Trips map to the left.

Road conditions: variable, but mostly good 2 lane highway. A bit of construction in BC, a bit of narrow stuff here and there, some frost heaves here and there, but we still traveled at 50mph most of the time.

The rest of the photos for this day are linked here

August 7 Day 33 Irons Creek to Muncho Lake

In life sometimes there are good days. Sometimes there are really great days. Then sometimes there are days that are written in golden memory, shining and brilliant for the rest of a lifetime. This was just one of those days. Since I woke this morning beside a creek in British Columbia, time seemed to crawl along in some sort of slow motion. Every single moment of this perfect day was drawn out long and still, a gift I suppose from the land and the water and the skies, a gift so that I could savor it.

Our boondock site last night along Irons Creek was still in an area of road construction, so we thought it would be a good idea to get on the road early enough so we didn’t need to worry about falling in line with a pilot car.The skies were still light when I woke at 11:30, but by 1:30 when I again woke and checked for northern lights it was dark enough to see stars. I haven’t seen stars since we left more than a month ago. It was 31 degrees when we opened the back blinds at 5:30 the only one we had closed during the long quiet night. After heating a pot of water for tea, we closed up the rig and were on the road before 6.

The drama of the morning light was accentuated with mysteriously beautiful drifts of fog lying in the low lands along the Llaird River. We drove for awhile looking for a nice level pullout to stop and cook Mo’s favorite Sunday morning treat, poached eggs on toast. Then another stop for a walk down to the river to view the Whirlpool Canyon rapids was rewarding with cool fresh morning air and the roar of the river.

At Coal Creek, there was a small café advertising WiFi, and I thought it might be a good place to try to upload the backlog of blog posts, but even with the $5. fee, I couldn’t manage more than a simple update post with no photos and a quick check of email and bank accounts. That was really all that mattered anyway, the blog will be there when we are eventually.

Within minutes of leaving Coal Creek we encountered the first of many buffalo grazing along the highway. Most folks traveling this route will see these buffalo, and they seem to congregate along the wide highway shoulders thick with grasses. I wondered if they were native to this area or if they have been transplanted here by the BC Parks. Of course, with no internet, I will have to find that out later. We enjoyed taking photos of the huge bulls with their massive heads and the little ones protected by their moms as they moved along with heads down, grazing.

The reality of cars and wildlife hit home hard as we passed a dead buffalo beside the road, and saw her little one grazing alone along the highway. Huge signs warn of buffalo in the area, but still many are killed. In all, we saw at least 4 dozen buffalo, many bulls and many babies, so even with the sad moment it was encouraging to seem them. Later I found out that these are “wood bison” and that the herd was once completely decimated. Only in the recent decades has the BC government protected them and the herd has grown to nearly 100 animals.

The wide road opened up before us, dropping down off the Yukon Plateau to the valley of the “mighty” Llaird River. Yes, it is another mighty river, according to the Milepost. I do love the mighty rivers of the Yukon and British Columbia. It’s a good word.

One of my important “todo” lists for this trip was a visit to Llaird River Hot Springs and it was less than 80 miles from our night camp to the provincial park. At first I thought we might stop and camp here for the night, but then decided that it was worth the ten bucks to dip in the springs and then continue down the road to Muncho Lake, another big “todo” on my list and camp there. I wanted to dip my kayak in those famous turquoise waters.

We settled into a parking space and turned on the fan for the animals since Abby couldn’t go out on the hot springs trail. They have a boardwalk that passes through hot mud flats and wetlands, through the forest, to the first pool. The second pool is now closed due to an endangered animal that lives there. There was construction going on, with a new dam being built, but somehow it still felt silent and calm around the pool. There were a few people around, most of whom seemed incredibly respectful of the special beauty of this place.

I slipped into the mid zone of the pool, knowing that 126*F would definitely be too much for me at the source of the spring. It was heaven, just pure heaven. There is a bit of sulfur, but not too much, and there is every variation of temperature in the water, from bathtub comfortable at the lower end of the pool, to too hot for me to handle at the upper end.

I marveled at the feeling of incredibly hot surface water, with cooler water at my feet. Perfect for hitting that lower back spot without getting too hot! Mo doesn’t like sulfur water so I swam alone while she rested on the benches. I’m not sure how long I stayed, but while I was in that water, nothing hurt, just nothing. You know how it is when the years catch us, something somewhere always seems to be hurting. Nothing hurt at all while I was in that pool, and as I sit here by the campfire tonight, still nothing hurts. I could use one of those springs in my own yard!

Once again I met an Alaskan willing to tell her whole story. All it takes is a hello and a simple question, and they are off and running. I met Janet, a woman who has homesteaded at Healy near Denali for 29 years. She is driving back to the ‘lower 48” for the first time since then. Her daughter is in Colorado and needs her. She is afraid of dealing with the city, laughingly telling me that in all her time at Healy she only had to deal with one crazed bear. She hates the idea of dirty snow and of paying for water. But her daughter needs her. She quit her two jobs and is going to Colorado. She last dipped in the Llaird pools 29 years ago when it was all free, but promised herself this one stop on the Alaska Highway.

Not far beyond Llaird Hot Springs the view opened up to the lovely blue water of Muncho Lake. I think I expected it to be a bit more colorful thnt it looked at first because it has been touted so much in all the literature. Still, it was a respectable blue with edges of turquoise and emerald in the shallows. There is a campground listed in the Milepost at the southern end of the lake, with 15 rocky beach sites. On the information map for the park, however, we saw another campground on the northern end and decided that might be more to our liking.

Pulling in to Macdonald Campground we found 15 beautiful sites, each with it’s own perfect small gravel beach, a table and a fire ring. It was still early in the afternoon, and it was warm and clear. We set up in our private, perfectly level gravel drycamp site, opened the awning to shelter our chairs against the afternoon sun, and looked forward to a long, quiet afternoon of beautiful views, gorgeous water, and peaceful quiet.

For the first time on this trip, Mo had a chance to plug in her little electric chain saw to cut up the pallet lying near our site in addition to a couple of downed dry spruce logs. She discovered that with the generator going, the chain saw would only run on the outlet set up for the microwave, and run it did. We had enough wood for a great long fire after supper into the evening.

I can’t explain why one day might be more perfect than any other. The litany sounds like any other day on the Alaska journey. I know we have seen more spectacular scenery, done exciting things all along the route, traveled more dramatic paths. But something about this day seemed golden, slow and perfect. I sat in the lounge chair for a long time just looking up at the light filtering through the aspen leaves listening to the lap of water on the shore.

Earlier in the day I relaxed for a long time in a clear warm pool surrounded by green peacefulness, and later in the day I silently paddled along the shore of a perfect lake surrounded by perfect mountains. We had a great home-cooked supper with simple chicken breasts, my favorite grated carrot and apple slaw, and some super sweet corn brought all the way from Medford Costco in our little freezer. After supper I slipped out again onto the lake, and then while Mo relaxed with a book I took Abby for a walk along the shore. I watched the moon low in the sky to the east and the long twilight as the sun set behind the high mountains to our west.

I felt more quiet inside than I have on the entire trip, as if the accumulation of all the experience finally settled in to a deep place in my heart. I guess that is why is was somehow the ‘perfect’ day for me on the Alaska Highway.

Miles driven today: about 230

Road condition: beautiful roads most of the way with just a bit of construction here and there

The rest of the photos for this day of travel are linked here

Update (no reasonable internet around here)

I have a few blog posts ready to go, but even when I pay I can’t seem to get anything to upload. Sitting here at the Coal Creek Café, a delightful little place at mile 550 or so getting close to Llaird Hot Springs where we plan to swim and then camp tonight at Muncho Lake a bit farther down the road. We spent another day in Haines, traveled north again to Haines Junction, and east on the Alaska Highway to boondock first in Robinson and last night at Irons Creek. Eventually we will get real internet again and I will catch up the daily posts which are actually ready to go. Will probably be in Dawson Creek and Mile 0 in 3 more days. If all else fails, I hear I can grab the wifi there at Super 8! All is well, we again have brilliant sunny skies, great photos of black bear and another bull moose, and still lots of open road to ourselves here in BC.

August 6 Day 32 Robinson Roadhouse to Irons Creek

We spent a surprisingly quiet night at the rest area at Robinson Roadhouse and were once again on the road early in the morning with hot tea, deciding that breakfast wasn’t needed. The sun was still low in the sky, which most of the time is great, except as we passed the beautiful Emerald (also called Rainbow) Lake, the colors weren’t yet illuminated with the sun still behind the high mountains to the east. The road to Carcross is beautiful, winding through the mountains with vistas of White Pass. The history of this road is woven tightly into the story of the Klondike gold rush, as it was at Bennet lake west of Carcross that the minors boarded the lake steamers.

We walked around the burned hull of the Tutshi sternwheeler, reading the sad story of her attempted restoration, only to tragically burn in 1990 before the fire suppression systems were installed. Perusing Mo’s photos of her 1974 journey, we found a shot of the boat before the restoration began. I also found a photo of the Caribou Hotel which was still in operation back then. Today, it appeared empty although it looked as though it was in the process of restoration.

The White Pass-Yukon Railroad Depot provided an important route from Skagway to Whitehorse, where it no longer goes, now ending here at Carcross. It was just after 8 as we pulled into town and all was quiet.

Continuing east along the Tagish Road past the post where the miners were required to check in and have their full ton of provisions documented by the RCMP before they were allowed to continue north to the gold fields. The circle route adds an extra 27 miles back to the Alaska Highway, but it is beautiful and well worth the trip.

We were back in the Yukon, on the open road with wide vistas spreading out before us on a perfectly clear morning. There a so many museums at nearly every town, it is hard to see them all. Reading about George Johnston’s Museum at Teslin, however, was intriguing, and we chose to stop. I’m so glad we did. George Johnston was Tglingit Indian with a story as wild and romantic as the Yukon itself. As a young man, he was intrigued with automobiles and went to Whitehorse to buy the first automobile brought to Teslin. Or course, there were no roads in Teslin, so he used the 70 mile long Teslin Lake in the winter and built his own 3 mile road in the summer.

I had read all this in the Milepost, but I must say that the museum brought George to life in a way I would have never understood without our morning stop. In addition to his story of the car, he was a self taught photographer and for 40 years documented the life of his people in Teslin. As we left, a sign board told the story of the lost language, and how now at last it is being restored. I would say this is a “don’t miss it” museum, aka the Milepost. Of course, it says that about lots of places that aren’t necessarily so great.

Not far beyond Teslin Lake we were surprised to see a young black bear grazing for berries on the slope above the road. He wasn’t the least bit concerned that we stopped for photos, and again, I was glad for a telephoto lens to catch his sweet face up close. If you look at the rest of the photos, you might see his crooked little nose. I swear it is a bit crooked, or plastered on a bit sideways.

Mid afternoon found us at Watson Lake and the famous Signpost Forest. When Mo stopped here in 74 there were only a few posts along the highway and she took a couple of photos. The forest now is nothing if not overwhelming.

We walked among all the signs from all over the world, amazed at some folks creations and wondering just how many of those city signs were stolen from their local burgs. We tried to find some of the early signs but could make no sense of it. Back into the visitor center to find out the 150 of the original posts had rotted and were removed. All the signs on those posts had been nailed up hither and yon wherever there was a space. Mo was glad she didn’t have a sign to find. We added Mo’s sign that we brought from home to the melee and moved on down the road.

Watson Lake is the last major community in the Yukon and as we entered British Columbia the road conditions started going downhill. We got caught in a long line of cars in very dusty gravel for about ten miles. It was time to find a boondock site, and sure enough there was a wide place along a creek just beckoning us to spend the night. We slipped out of the long line of cars and big trucks to the long gravel road and realized that in order to get level we would have to unhook.

It was worth it, and eventually all the pilot cars stopped coming, the grader finally quit after 6pm, and we had a beautiful quiet evening reading and enjoying our free spot along Irons Creek. I did a little bit of reading and found out that at one time the bridge over Irons Creek was a 25 foot diameter culvert, one of the largest in Canada, and it had failed a few years ago requiring that a new bridge be constructed. The creek didn’t look at all threatening at this time of year, but we were far enough above it that it wasn’t a worry anyway.

Miles traveled today: about 317 from point 15 to point 18 on the map at left

Road conditions: good all the way through the Yukon, ten miles of dusty gravel into BC

The rest of the photos for this day are linked here.

August 5 Day 31 Haines to Robinson Road House

When leaving Haines, there are three choices. You can travel back to Haines Junction and the Alaska Highway by road, you can take the ferry to Skagway or points south all the way to Bellingham, or you can fly a tiny plane to Whitehorse. At first I thought we might take the ferry to Skagway and then drive north to Carcross. It seems a popular option, saving more than 200 miles of driving, and the cost between driving and the ferry is comparable.

Ferry fees are based on the length of your rig, both of them, including whatever is hanging off the back. In addition you pay a separate fare for each person and an additional fare for each kayak. It is 288 miles to Carcross from Haines on the road, and 65 miles to Carcross from Skagway on the ferry, just a short hour crossing from Haines. We chose to drive.

A couple of things figured into our decision, not the least of which was the beauty of the Haines Highway, the magnificent wildness of a road that is bordered on both sides by grizzly country, without many other vehicles. I may not be back to Alaska for a long time, I wanted to see the Haines Highway again. A second reason is probably a bit silly. Since we chose to drive the Klondike Loop, there is a section of the Alaska Highway that we missed between Tok and Whitehorse. By backtracking to Haines Junction and getting back on the highway there we will travel east to Whitehorse and once we reach Dawson Creek can claim that we drove every single mile of the Alcan.

It was cloudy when we left this morning, with the huge peaks behind Haines only showing their sparkling glaciers sporadically and then the skies softened into a more leaden gray as we crossed Haines Summit once again. I was glad for our day of beautiful skies on our first passing, but the grizzly country surrounding us still looked wild and magical. When we were stopped for the construction zone, I asked about the grizzly, and they smiled and said, No, he hadn’t been back, but another griz was seen this morning back at Goat Creek, where we had already passed.

Continuing north, we still had the road to ourselves, but the scenery didn’t seem quite as dramatic as the first time. It was closer to mid day, with flat light, but I also think that the drama unfolds differently depending on the direction of travel. We reached Haines Junction and turned again on the Alaska Highway headed east toward Whitehorse.

Not far from the Junction, we came to a delightful rest stop along the Aishihik River and the Tutchone community of Canyon Creek. We took some time to walk up to the bluff and the cemetery, with its small scale houses covering the graves of the people buried there.

The bluff is formed in sand from the end moraine marking the terminus of a huge glacial lake that once filled this part of the Yukon. Beyond Canyon Creek, the landscape broadened and the roadside was dry nearly white silts from the floor of the Pleistocene lake. The soils were dry, the grasses were brown, and the aspen was gray and dry from the ravages of the aspen leaf miner. Fire danger was listed as “high”, and I could definitely see why. Mo was driving and I found myself dropping off into a snooze with the boredom of this Yukon landscape.

We stopped in Whitehorse for fuel, remembering our rainy arrival almost a month ago, and continued south to the South Klondike Road and the side trip to Carcross. We hoped to boondock for a few nights, and sure enough the big gravel pullouts looked inviting. We chose a rest area, where in the Yukon you can park if you choose, and settled in for the evening behind a wall of protective trees near the old Robinson Roadhouse, now abandoned and just a shell of its former glory. After a walk exploring the area, we settled in to a quesadilla supper and some reading and writing time before we slept.

I heard on the news recently that there was a possibility of northern lights in this part of the country due to a huge solar flare, and had high hopes when I went to bed. The skies were clear and bright, but when I woke at 11 and then again at 1 to check, the clouds had returned. No northern lights for us this time around, I guess. It’s really a bit early, with the lights starting up in the fall. The night temperature dipped to 38F and our heater came on quite a bit during the night. Good to have the generator to keep things charged and ready for us to stay nice and cozy. I don’t think solar panels would be much good in this world with all the cloudy weather.

Tomorrow we will stop to explore Carcross a bit before continuing east through the Yukon toward Watson Lake on a part of the highway that we passed on our way west. Once beyond Watson Lake it will all be new to me as we travel east toward mile zero at Dawson Creek.

Miles driven today: 268

Road condition: 2 lane paved highway with some areas of intermittent frost heave, but basically 55-60 mph road.

The rest of the photos for this day are linked here