The condition of the Elliott and Dalton Highways has improved dramatically since I was last here in 1994 — the seventy miles of the Elliott Highway leading to the start of the Dalton Highway are now all paved, and the Dalton Highway itself, once a road described by a travel guide as “anus-clenching”, has several long paved stretches scattered along its 414 miles. Maybe I will be able to make it up to the Brooks Range and beyond after all.
Stopped for a bit at a roadhouse this morning that had a sign out front reading “Not a single mosquito out here… they are all married with large families”. Luckily the mosquitoes are mostly gone after mid-August. Talked to the folks at the roadhouse, and they were nicest people you could ever hope to meet. They’ve been up here for years and years and have twenty-three kids, eighteen adopted. The people in Alaska are like no where else I’ve ever been — very down-to-earth, independent, and full of an appreciation of how great life is. There are of course also a fair number of cranky old-timers and slightly crazy folks to keep things interesting.
The country along the Dalton Highway is almost completely wild, with views to the horizon of nothing but mountains, evergreens, and golden birch trees. No radio stations, no cell phone coverage, almost no services — the sort of environment where the “civilized” world fades into memory. Today is definitely looking like it’s going to be a good one.