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The night was long, and I awoke with the sun streaming in to the steamy
warm cab of the pickup. The cramped sleeping positions left the muscles
in my upper back stiff and sore. I struggled to wriggle out of the sleeping
bag within the confines of the cab. The view was beautiful-a sunlight valley
backed by snowtopped mountain peaks. I changed clothes and identified the
tracks I had seen the night before as a very large hoofed animal, probably
a moose.
I poured a bowl of cereal and sat in the back of the truck to eat and look
across the valley. I washed off the bowl and spoon with a quick splash of
water and a paper towel, and cranked up the truck to head for Tok. Along
the way I stopped to look for some native artwork to take back home. After
a little questioning at a couple of gift shops and the local visitor center,
I learned that the style I was looking for was characteristic of the Tlingit
("Klinkit") Indians. The Tlingits were inhabitants of the Southeast
portion of Alaska that follows the coast west of Yukon, Canada. A knowledgable
woman at the visitor center said that I would find lots of Tlingit art in
Haines, were there is a school that teaches that particular style of art.
From Haines, I could catch a short ferry to Skagway, and from there continue
back to the Alaska Highway without having gone totally out of my way. I
thanked her and went across the street to a grocery store for bread and
ice before continuing east toward Canada.
Along the way I passed an RV. This is of note because it is one of the very
few vehicles I have passed this trip. I think it is the only vehicle that
has been constantly traveling slower than I was. The RV was pulling a little
blue Mazda truck behind it.
At the border I took a picture of the "Welcome to Alaska" sign
to send back to Hans, the mechanic, and then continued on a little ways
before stopping for gas. Afterwards, I pulled into some shade for lunch.
I ate two slices of cold pizza and made a roast beef sandwich. As I ate
my sandwich the slow RV with the blue Mazda passed and honked hello.
After finishing lunch, I continued on toward Haines Junction until evening.
Once again I was forced to navigate a couple hundred miles of gravel/dirt/mud
roads under construction. Now and again I would be stopped by a flagperson
to wait for a pilot vehicle. One of these flagpeople was a woman who I recognized
because she had stopped me on my way north.
In her eyes I saw that she recognized me, too -- or the truck at least.
Her name was Gloria, and she had just begun her shift at 7:00PM and would
continue until 5:30AM. She said she liked the night shift, and she read
Steven King novels to pass the time during the slow hours. Soon the pilot
car arrived and I continued driving on into the night until around 1:30AM,
when I pulled into a little side dirt road and followed it a ways until
I saw a spot to pull off and set up the tent. It was cold. I unpacked both
extra blankets that I had brought with me, and after setting up the tent,
I brushed my teeth quickly and clambered into the sleeping bag still wearing
jacket and jeans.
A couple of sounds made me think of bears, but it must have just been the
wind. I made sure I knew where the Canadian axe was, just in case.
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Copyright © 1995 by Patrick
Malone