It was at a gas station so remote that a litre of fuel and a cup of coffee cost the same -- in the $1.30 range. The taste was similar too.
A dust-covered road warrior on his way to Alaska from down south strapped himself to his bike and prepared to kick-start the machine. He paused and looked over at me. "Which way is north again?" he asked, dead serious.
I pointed him on his way, but as he roared off, I thought twice about my directions. Over the past two months, I've left a responsible job with The Globe and Mail, sold my home and waved goodbye to family and friends for an extended vacation and writing trip. My girlfriend Christina and I have already put a year's worth of kilometres on her 14-year-old car. We don't know exactly when we'll be back, and there are still days where we don't know which way is up.
Of all the ways we could have begun our travels, we chose to get in the car. Nothing screams road trip like Alaska -- the drive north is a pilgrimage for some, a rite of passage for others, a yearly routine for a fortunate few. For us, Alaska represented the end of an especially scenic road, which had a lot of allure for two people beginning a once-in-a-lifetime adventure.
Our plan, as it took shape, would have us leaving Toronto in early July, driving to Alaska and back down through British Columbia and the U.S. Pacific Northwest before returning to Ontario. We'd be home in time to watch the leaves change, pick up our backpacks and head for sunnier latitudes. But it was never as simple as just picking up and leaving; planning the trip while disassembling our lives would prove to be impossibly complicated.
"It's funny how the closer we are to being on the road, the more stressful things become," I wrote in my diary in June, as I balanced packing, work, goodbye parties, family emergencies and the creation of a website. It was a relief to finally start travelling.
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There are two ways into Alaska by car: by ferry up the coast and by road from the interior. Driving from the east, we chose the latter, which allowed us a side trip to Edmonton and the Northwest Territories.
We linked up with the Alaska Highway in northern B.C., which is where our road trip began to get seriously scenic. Heading northwest from Fort Nelson, the array of mountains and wildlife often make it difficult to keep an eye on the road.
That can be problematic, because although this storied road is now paved from end to end, there are still plenty of perils: hairpin turns, 12-per-cent grades and an endless parade of bulky trucks. On Day 17, near the Yukon border, we watched horrified as a recreational trailer clipped a French cyclist. He was knocked over but unhurt, somehow. The RV continued on, oblivious to the havoc it had caused.
The next unpredictable hazard was the rising gasoline prices, which have thrown a wrench into our budgeting. A litre of gas cost about 90 cents when we left Southern Ontario on Day 1, and generally rose as we drove got farther north: $1.00 … $1.10 … $1.20 … and finally $1.30, which we paid on Aug. 20 near Muncho Lake, B.C. We've also been forced to buy a new set of tires -- we noticed the old ones beginning to bald by the time we reached Whitehorse.
It took 20 days to reach Alaska, yet we didn't feel like we'd really arrived until we pulled into Anchorage on Day 21. After three weeks in the car, it was time to slow down and savour the restaurants, the pubs and the Sunday market.
But although Alaska's largest city is a good spot for stretching legs and unpacking bags, it remains a city surrounded by scenery, so we also used it as a base for hiking and sightseeing.
