161. Back to civilisation

Saturday, 1 June 2019

Fairbanks, Alaska, USA

Decent sleep considering the black out curtains weren’t that blackout and there’s daylight in my room at 0300hrs.

The mechanic’s workshop is open so do a quick tyre pressure check to see if any have deflated overnight. They haven’t.

The workshop was closed last night when I arrived, so an elderly gentleman with a real puncture was using the air feed to pump up his tyre. Borrowed his tyre pressure gauge last night but as soon as he gave it to me, could tell it was a cheap lightweight plastic effort. The sort you’d give your kid as a toy for his little go kart.

What I needed was a proper heavy duty tyre pressure gauge. That worked. And gave you a reliable measurement. You know. The sort your Dad would have in his glovebox in the 1970s to check the tyre pressures on the Austin Maxi.

And one I hope to inherit.

So no deflation overnight means that it must be a sensor issue. Phew.

Can continue on my way, safe in the knowledge the tyres aren’t suddenly going to go pop. All Nigel Mansell like in the Australian Grand Prix 1986. The only thing to worry about is the ever increasing crack in the windscreen.

Good progress again back the way I came. But. Seeing scenery from a different perspective once again makes for compelling viewing and frequent stops for photos. A selection of which are below.

This time I do make sure to stop at the Arctic Circle. 66deg 33’ North. In the middle of nowhere so expecting it just to be me and the wilderness. Miles from anywhere.

Oh no.

Somewhat surprised to see that it’s a hive of activity. A lot of women in high vis vests mooching around. And a Inter Agency Land Ranger. The women are volunteers clearing up rubbish along the Dalton Highway. They collected 13 tons of debris last year. There’s great interest in my trip and am presented by the Land Ranger with a ‘Crossing the Arctic Circle’ certificate. Photos are taken. A quick 2min stop turns into 20mins. They’re an enjoyable and lively group. Well done girls!

Fuel and lunch stop again at Yukon River Camp. Meet the elderly Swiss couple again. We met and exchanged pleasantries, in German, at the very start of the Dalton Highway on Wednesday. They only went as far as Atigun Pass though.

Soon though, it’s the end of the Dalton Highway. 416 miles of amazing and varied landscape.

An amazing road.

An amazing drive.

One of the best drives I’ve done.

Parallels with the start of the trip too. Driving through remote southern Patagonia with nothing for hundreds of miles. Managing fuel. Driving from the colder climate to a warmer climate. Snow capped mountains. Flat featureless plains. Wind. Rain. Sun. Blue sky. No radio signal. No phone signal.

Back on the Elliott Highway, it’s only 70 miles to Fairbanks. One stretch of about 10 miles takes 1hr to do though because of roadworks and the need to wait and then follow an escort vehicle. Very slow going.

And then. Finally. The first signs of civilisation.

Post boxes.

Telegraph poles.

4G phone signal.

FM radio signal.

Had quite got used to the remoteness and the wilderness.

Refreshing and detoxing.

Before returning to Fairbanks, there’s one small place I must visit.

The North Pole.

Yes. There’s a small town called ‘North Pole’. Has a Christmas feel to it as you drive down Santa Claus Way. The street lights are even Christmassy. Designed and painted to look like candy sticks.

One of the conditions of the hire car is that I have to return it washed and clean of mud. There’s a lot of mud to get rid of. Can I find a car wash. Can I ‘eck. The one car wash that is close to the hire company is shut.

As UK readers will know. If you want your car washing in the UK, you only have to drive a mile or so and there’ll be a gang of Romanians with bucket and sponge ready to wash your car for you.

This hasn’t quite caught on in Alaska and takes half an hour to find a car wash. But it’s a self service pressure washer truck wash.  You pull into a ‘garage’ open at both ends to drive in and drive out. Consequence of which is that there’s nowhere for the spray to disappear to. It’s all contained by the sides of the garage about 2ft from the car.

So you can imagine how speckled with mud I get as I pressure wash the car myself. Now more muddy than the sodding car. It’s everywhere. Boots, jeans, coat, hands, face, hair.

Celebratory meal required now that I have truly survived the Dalton Highway. The Thai Red Chicken Curry I had the other night was so good, I return. For more. They’re pleased to see me again. No, really. An excellent curry and told they’re open tomorrow too. It’s a date. With the beautiful young Thai girl.

There’s more than one drunken Eskimo I pass enroute. Seems to be an area of social housing I’m passing through. One Eskimo is upset. He’s in the middle of the street shrieking obscenities at no one. Someone’s got decking and a balcony he doesn’t like. Pace is quickened as I walk by.

Don’t want to get harpooned.