Alaska via Land...Part 2, Day 3

Day 3 on the road is the one I expected to be most difficult.  Ironically, it was my favorite day of the trip.  It was the stretch of road between Fort Nelson, BC and Whitehorse, Yukon.  On the map, it is the stretch of road with the fewest towns and settlements.  It would have the least traffic, no cell phone service, the longest distances between services.  It is the stretch of road in the Milepost that has the most red text advising cautions as well -- "narrow winding road through limestone gorge no guardrails" (GORGE they say, dear God), and numerous moose and caribou on the road warnings.  It was the stretch of road trucker friends (Bruce Rhodes) said are fine but all the 90 degree turns are at the bottom of steep hills.  It was the stretch of road that all the live highway cams showed as trails through snowbanks without a hint of pavement.  Monique and I like an adventure, but we are also wise in our planning,  The satellite phone was precharged.  The jerry can of gas was filled.  Emergency supplies were at the ready, and we set alarms to be sure we were starting out at the earliest we would on the trip (0830 am).  If you are following the map, this is the stretch between Blue M&M #2 and Blue M&M #3...British Columbia to the Yukon.

That doesn't mean we didn't have a great sleep and have time to get up, enjoy continental breakfast, and update the world on our travels.  "Breaking News -- the Panthers pooped!!!" flashed across my Facebook screen, and I realized Monique had adapted all my worries of the journey as a good co-pilot should.  This was all fine and not TMI until days later it became apparent that some of her friends did not know what the panthers were and that a small contingent thought that Monique and I WERE the panthers, a definitely unwelcome development that we clued into thanks to one John R Smith and a subsequent confession from one Doug Sanders.  Devereux Warwick Richards is also in the bad books by association.

We set out in the freezing rain, and this may be the one part of the journey that made Monique nervous (not to worry, my part would come).  The defrost could not keep up with the freezing rain, leaving a window of reduced visibility, and the roads were bouncy with potholes, slush, and muck.  "Ah, it's no worse than Saskatchewan," I said as we bounced along the cliff face.  By the time we reached Toad River (or Frog Creek as Monique recalls it), we decided to switch despite it being a short starter leg for me.  The freezing rain had stopped, and the limestone gorge was ahead.  This was my predeclared nervous stretch.  I have still not recovered from Montana's terrifying Highway 49 skirting Glacier National Park, and so Monique was slated to drive the section between Toad River/Frog Creek and Watson Lake so that I had the option to close my eyes and pretend I was somewhere else if we came to a  deathly narrow road hovering over a massive gap into probable fiery death.



the alleged limestone gorge after Toad River

We discovered that the one open venue of frog creek..er Toad River, was a gas station sporting wifi for more updates, a small wall of post office boxes for the locals wherever they may be, a restaurant, a gift shop, and one live employee.  We were happy to see the truck and boat we had been following also stopped, and were determined to get out ahead of them.  We also noticed a cute large dog that looked a little bit like the llama as we filled up, grabbed coffee, and headed back out onto the road.  The Toad River itself was stunning....it had glacial blue ice breaking up on its surface and gently bubbled on.  The Limestone Gorge into the MacKenzie Valley required no eye closing or even squinting...and long before we reached Watson Lake miss Monique had dubbed my sturdy Milepost advisor book as the PansyPost.  The areas without guardrails would really not require them unless in a whiteout or uncontrollably icy circumstance.  The drop-offs were totally survivable (presuming you got out of car and could swim), and there was not a single scary thing about the drive the whole day.



 Monique at Toad River... Mile 422 Alaska Highway

Beyond Toad River, we climbed to Watson Lake on moderately snowy roads.


By Muncho Lake we were met with beautiful views and still clear skies and roads.

Monique at Muncho Lake

Snowy mountain passes but well maintained roads
 

Despite now being called "The Pansy Post," I kept a careful eye on my MilePost publication.  When we switched driving at Muncho Lake, I was aware that stone sheep and caribou were to be expected on the road at mile 449.  Ironically, I topped a hill and there they were, right on the road as expected.  We stopped, being able to confirm no traffic for a mile ahead or behind, and got some road caribou photos.



Road Caribou -- photo by Monique Andrie

 

I of course worried about the skinny caribou, hoping for an early spring for him

 Beyond the caribou of Mile 449...we knew we had to stop at the famous Liard Hotsprings at Mile 477.  I remember reading about this place because a bear killed 2 would be bathers on this very path back in 1997, a time when I was avidly mountain biking in the Rockies and acutely aware of such events.  It was nice to go in February while the bears were napping,

 

Lliard Hotsprings Trail

The hotsprings were FABULOUS.  There is some variation of warmth so you can move about to where you want to be and find the absolute perfect temperature for you.  Sitting in the mineral water beneath the snowy banks in a cloud of steam....awesome. 

 

Lliard Hotsprings

 

The one caution of the hotsprings, aside from becoming bear crunchy biter yummer yums in the summer, is that any silver on your jewellery oxidizes with superman speed.  I knew my chain was white gold, and my locket black and white diamonds...but I didn't clue in that they are set in silver.  In this otherwise happy warm pic of the two happy travellers enjoying the hot springs in their...er...bathing suits...you can see the rust red stain of my locket on my skin after just a few minutes in the water.  Do remove silver before enjoying Lliard.  It was cautioned in the MilePost but I forgot.

 



The hotsprings were mostly isolated...we only had to share with one, terribly handsome Yukon park ranger who was on vacation (we jokingly called him the potential panther papa for the rest of the day as we kept running into him at stops.  He was also he owner of llama dog seen at Toad River).

Rocking Wilderness Chic at Lliard Hotsprings

Leaving Lliard, we saw a sign saying 'Buffalo Next 94 km,' and panther papa had warned us about road buffalo as well.  Indeed, there they were...on the road, along the side, for the next 100 km.  The great thing about buffalo is that they lumber rather than dart, so we could easily time the car vs buffalo path.


momma and baby buffalo at the edge of the road -- photo by Monique

As we left British Columbia and crossed into the Yukon, we were met with the most beautiful sunset!


Monique documenting Yukon sunset traffic



Sunset gleaming in the sky and on the road -- Monique's camera agqin

 And so we drove off into the sunset, and later into the dark, on our longest part of the trip, arriving north of Whitehorse some 13 hours into the drive.  Incidentally, we got a warning on the car to check the front left tire pressure, which we did stop in the dark to check, and found that my pricey 4 day old front left winter tire was still at a solid 30 psi.  We carried on til our designated Whitehorseish stopping point.