Day One, Clean Car
Milwaukee
Eric Crafton probably hates Canada
Prairie Provences for days.
Dawson Creek, BC
YOU SHALL NOT PASS!
Like, snow
Northern British Columbia
Bison, technically not buffalo I'm told.
Liard hot springs
Frozen snot mixed with delicious regular snot.
Early birds got all the worms
Hot commodity
Sign forrest in Yukon Territory
Bottom left
Whitehorse, Yukon Territory
The road
Glacier
Day 9, dirty car (Uhaul)
Anchorage
Alaskan swimwear
The end
Before I went home I flew to Seattle, stayed the night, did nothing, and road a train to Portland. I stayed with Chris Freeman. We met up with Erika, who traveled with me and Paul in South America and was randomly in Portland the same day I was.
Before going home, I ate this donut:
Day 9, Tok, Alaska to Anchorage
Tok, Alaska is now the farthest north I’ve ever traveled. Tok lies within the 63rd parallel north of the equator, maybe 600 miles or more south of the Arctic Circle. A month ago they were in the news for an unconfirmed temperature of -80 degrees Fahrenheit. It was just above freezing when we arrived.
Unfortunately it snowed a bunch that night, so the last day of the drive was probably the most treacherous. Parts of the road had yet to be plowed and were probably covered with 4 or 5 inches of snow. Luckily a couple trucks had apparently driven the road before us, so there were some tracks to follow. Barry drove the whole way.
Paul McCaige is working with kids in Wrangell, Alaska, about a 3 or 4 hour boat ride from Anchorage. We saw the Wrangell Mountains in the distance, which are maybe the biggest mountains I’ve ever seen. Paul was on the other side of them somewhere. I’m sure the scenery on his side was fantastic, but we had a glacier on our side. He and I will have to compare pictures.
I might be taking a little side trip to Seattle and Portland, Oregon before I go home. No more driving!
Day 7, Fort Nelson, British Columbia to Teslin, Yukon
Almost every day we’ve gotten started before sunrise, between 6 and 7 each morning, then we drive away the rest of the sunlight. We usually keep driving an hour or two after that, stopping somewhere between 6 and 8pm, depending on the time zone.
We got started early enough in Fort Nelson, but the road’s been a solid block of rough ice ever since, with occasional snow dusting, so we aren’t covering the territory in a day that we were beforehand. The goal was Whitehorse, the capital of the Yukon Territory, but ended up staying in a tiny town called Teslin. It’s the last chance for lodging before Whitehorse and two hours away. We got the last room available between the two hotels in town. Road crew working on bridge repairs took up the rest of the rooms.
We fell behind schedule because we stopped at the Liard Hot Springs just south of the Yukon border. The temperature outside was 10 Fahrenheits while the water was around 120 Fahrenheits, meaning that your hair would freeze while you occasionally were scolded with hot water. The trees looked like they were made of crystals from the vapors freezing on contact. Wading in a subarctic hot spring in the middle of winter comes high on my list of recommendations, right up there with pineapples and jalapeños on pizza.
Day 8, Teslin, Yukon to Tok, Alaska
President Obama visited Canada today, and we heard all about it on the radio. The coverage was embarrassing and not that far removed from what I’d expect from the U.S. 24 hour newsies. Actually, it isn’t just the coverage, why would you pull your kids out of school and drive 3 hours just for a chance to see Barack Obama wave at a crowd? This cult of personality thing is just as bad back home. I voted for the guy, and I’m still a big supporter, but this shit is getting ridiculous.
The signage for entering Alaska was underwhelming. A simple, small green sign that says “Welcome to Alaska” and nothing red, white, and/or blue welcoming me to America. This doesn’t feel like home at all. We’re staying in Tok (rhymes with “poke”), which is as far as we’re taking the Alaska Highway and is a day’s drive from Anchorage.
Day 5, Whitewood, Saskatchewan to Edmonton, Alberta
These prairie provinces have finally achieved monotony. Flat isn’t just their defining feature; it’s their singular characteristic. Regardless, Edmonton’s got a really pretty frozen river running through the middle of it that I didn’t get a picture of. I tried walking to it, but our hostel was farther than I thought. Snot started freezing in my mustache so I hopped a bus back.
The girl at the front desk at the hostel told me about Metal Mondays at a place called Filthy McNasty’s. I watched the Edmonton Oilers beat the Phoenix Coyetes on the TV with a couple locals, then stayed for a couple songs by the opening band. They were called Fear of City, and I left because the second song was an Alice in Chains cover. I struck up a conversation as I was leaving with a guy wearing a Death shirt and learned that he and his friend are big Destroy Destroy Destroy fans, who the Protomen have played with half a dozen times. Small world.
Day 6, Edmonton, Alberta to Fort Nelson, British Columbia
Canadian provinces take forever to drive through because they’re all the size of Texas or bigger. In reaching British Columbia, the scenery improved tenfold with the Canadian Rockies peaking out ever so often over the horizon. Also, we’ve officially overtaken the halfway point and reached the beginning of the Alaska Highway, which is marked as Mile 0 in Dawson Creek. The highway ends at Mile 1422 in Delta Junction, Alaska, but we won’t make it quite that far. The road to Anchorage splits just beforehand.
Fort Nelson is just 300 miles from Mile 0, but it’s the only place with a motel for another hundred or so. The town sits at the foothills of the mountains and has been built five times, the earliest versions having been set up by various trade companies and destroyed by equally various natural disasters. The first couple hotels we stopped at had no vacancies and were full of truckers on their way to the oil fields.
I don’t have a USB cable with me, so pictures are going to have to wait until I get home.
Blogging this thing is proving harder than I thought. 8 or more hours in a car with no guarantee of Internet at any point during the day makes these things irregular. I’m in Edmonton at the moment, but here are the past few days.
Day 2, Chicago to Minneapolis:
Leaving Chicago, Kristin and I drove up to Milwaukee because neither of us had ever been there. We ate lunch and looked at water. I’ll show you pictures later.
Kristin has a friend from High School named Josh who let us stay at his place in Minneapolis. He works for the Blue/Green Alliance, which organizes with labor unions to help create green jobs. I didn’t realize last summer when I was in Minneapolis for the first time that it was also the farthest north I had ever been. I thought Boston was more norther. It ain’t.
Minneapolis is one of the best and 12 degrees up here is way easier than 12 degrees in Tennessee, not that we really ever get that.
Day 3, Minneapolis to nowhere:
We stayed in Minneapolis to pick up Kristin’s boyfriend Barry from the airport. He’s riding the rest of the way with us. Hung out with Dr. Bernardjamin, whom, as luck would have it, lives about a block from Josh.
Day 4, Minneapolis to Whitewood, Saskatchewan
Today was a biggie: 13ish hours of driving through two states and two Canadian provinces. We stopped in a grocery store in Fargo, ND, to shop and ask directions for the quickest route to Regina, the capital of Saskatchewan. The cashier I talked to asked me if I was talking about a place in North Dakota. The person Barry asked had no clue what he was talking about. I couldn’t have named the capital of Saskatchewan 3 days ago either (I thought it was Saskatoon), but I also don’t live in a state that borders it. I get a pass. I also didn’t know that Regina the city is pronounced with a long ‘i.’ The cashier seemed taken aback when I asked directions because she probably thought I said “vagina.”
We drove through a bunch of Manitoba and came up shy of Regina by about an hour and a half, staying in a tiny town called Whitewood. The northern portion of the Great Plains is only interesting if you aren’t accustomed to seeing great expanses of untouched snow, which happens to include me.
Day One, Nashville to Chicago
We drove through four states today with a lunch detour with a college friend of Kristin’s in Frankfort, KY, which happens to be the 21st state capital I’ve visited and home to the stupidest protest I’ve ever seen in one. And I live in Nashville.
In Frankfort some major beer companies are driving their big trucks around the capitol all day long to protest a proposed increase in the state’s beer excise tax. The tax exists in every state and is an effective chain of revenue for many state programs. From my limited research, Kentucky’s seems to be an extraordinarily low one.
On the other hand, from a beer company’s perspective, driving giant semi trucks in circles is an effective way to drastically increase the emissions of green house gases into the atmosphere and burn fossil fuel resources. This pains me to say, but you’re wrong beer. You’re wrong.
We drove through Abraham Lincoln’s state of birth (Kentucky), his boyhood home (Indiana), and the Land of Lincoln (Illinois). Leslie had a 200th birthday party for Abe when we arrived in Chicago.
I just put a giant map on my wall and measured the distance between Anchorage, Ak and Nashville, TN with a piece of paper. According to this piece of paper the drive we’re about to start on Thursday is roughly the equivilant to driving the north to south distance of the entire continent of Africa or driving from Paris to the capital of Kazahkstan, which makes the whole thing seem fairly stupid. My mom really wishes I’d reconsider.
I’m starting this drive with my friend Kristin Hooper on Thursday morning.
It’s a record called Guitars from Agadez, Vol. 2, a combination of archival and live recordings of Group Bombino from Niger. Specifically, I’m obsessed with the acoustic archival stuff on side A. I found out about the record from this review on Dusted Magazine, which partially details the volatile political and social climate that birthed this stuff. Listen to the streaming track on that page and try not to fall in love with it.
I downloaded the record illegal-like. The only place I can find to purchase it that still has it in stock is over here, and the price is fairly spendy.
This is the only clip I was able to find on YouTube:
 | rickyfartin on Adios, Ciao, Sayonara, Salam, … |
 | Davis on Adios, Ciao, Sayonara, Salam, … |
 | Michele on Anyeong Haseyo, pt. 6 |
| Michele on Anyeong Haseyo, pt. 3 |
| Davis on Anyeong Haseyo, pt. 3 |
