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| End of the Dempster Highway at Inuvik |
Our hopes were high when we arrived in Dawson City. The Visitor Center has a board outside its
doors with road information. We were
delighted to see they had posted that the Dempster was good condition and both
ferries were open. We ran a few errands,
spent the night at a commercial campground for showers, then headed out to
traverse our favorite road. I couldn’t
wait!
We awoke to overcast skies and arrived at the Tombstone
Visitor’s Center during misty rain. Just
40 miles from the beginning of the Dempster Highway, Tombstone rises some 2,000
feet in altitude, cresting at 4,500 feet at the pass. Clouds clung to the mountains, engulfing the
spectacular Tombstone Valley. Fall
colors, however, were evident even under the heavy fog. We had made it in time… now we just needed to
wait out the rain.
The forecast, however, was not cooperating. Rain was predicted throughout most of the
week with only occasional breaks in the clouds.
Undaunted, we traveled on to Engineer Creek campground, where in 2010 we
saw our first wolf on the Dempster. The
campground is often mucky with thick, black mud… not the best camping terrain
for a large, long-haired Golden.
Although the rain seemed light, the campground was actually worse than
expected… a tribute to many days of rain in advance of our arrival.
We traveled on to Ogilvie Ridge and a more rocky campsite that
we had used in the past. Stiff winds and
temperatures plummeting into the lower 30s sent us back down the ridge. Fortunately, we found a pullout nestled in
aspen that fit the bill… protected and not too muddy.
The following morning was rainy and felt bitterly cold. We were up and ready early to head toward
Eagle Plains, the mid-way point on the Dempster. The road was getting more and more slick with
each drop of rain. Several miles from
Eagle Plains, we passed a van with German plates that had rolled on its side
and slid for some distance. The roof and
the entire vehicle frame were bent over at about 30 degrees and most of the
windows had popped out. It was a
sobering sight and reminder that the Dempster cannot be taken lightly.
Eagle Plains is called the “Oasis in the Wilderness” for a
reason. The Eagle Lodge and complex were
built by the Canadian government for travelers on the Dempster’s 469-mile dirt
highway. It is the first place to
purchase gasoline. The complex also has
a restaurant, motel, maintenance shop, and campground (although tents are not
allowed because of frequent bear activity in the area).
We decided to stop for lunch at the lodge’s restaurant and
check on the weather. The forecast
looked dismal. Snow had crept into the
next day’s forecast with temperatures holding in the mid or low 30s. Still, we were optimistic. As we left the restaurant, we met the four
young Germans who had rolled their vehicle.
They were all sitting in the motel lobby, each with cell phone in hand,
patiently waiting for a ride back to Dawson City. Thankfully, no one appeared hurt. It appeared that their van was so damaged
that they planned to abandon it in the pullout where it rested.
This is our fourth trip up the Dempster. We know by now that the wetter the road gets,
the sloggier it gets. Maintenance
graders only make matters worse, deepening the mud rather than smoothing it. During our first (and wettest) trip, tire
grooves in the mud were easily eight to ten inches deep. If tires came out of the deep grooves, you
could actually feel the vehicle’s rear snake and sway on the slick mud. Slow and easy is the only way to drive this
road, particularly when it’s wet. We are
always grateful for our four-wheel-drive in these conditions.
Since it was still early, we decided to drive on and camp at
the Rock River Campground, one of our favorite places to stay on the
Dempster. About three miles from the
campground, we spied a grizzly digging tubers on the side of the road. He was most uncooperative, however, staying
deep in the gully rather than posing for photos. (I took the photo below when we rolled down the back window and the bear smelled Roxanne.) Plus a Mercedes camper van was also vying for position. As the bear meandered off, we stopped at the
campground, staked our claim for one of the sites, then headed up to the
Northwest Territory border where we had first seen the caribou migration in
2010. Clouds hung low against the
mountain and valley below. Even if there
had been caribou, we would not have been able to see them.
We found a safe place to turn around. When we passed back by the two rigs, the
occupants of the rental RV were outside their vehicle, standing just a few feet
from a wild grizzly with cameras in hand.
We winced and drove back to our campsite.
We quickly set up camp and barely took Rox for a stroll
before diving into the camper to fend off the biting rain and cold. The next morning, David announced that he had
good news and bad news. The good news
was that there wasn’t any accumulation.
I donned my glasses to discover that our rain had turned to snow
overnight. The trees surrounding us were
dusted in white. How beautiful!
David made coffee and we broke camp, determining to try to
find our grizzly bear friend again. To
our amazement, we discovered him not more than 100 yards from the
campground. It was as if God had planted
him in that very spot just for us. The
bear strolled down the road ahead of us.
After he meandered out of sight, we stopped to find his tracks in the
mud. Wow!
Thankfully, in spite of the snow the road appeared clear, so
we continued on toward the pass and Northwest Territory border. To our surprise, it was completely iced
in. We stopped to take photos as the
snow continued to fall. A solid layer of
ice crunched beneath my boots. David
walked onto the road to test it. A SUV
passed us. We decided it was good to go. Although it was slick at the pass, about a
half mile down the road the ice turned back to mud.
Snow flurries continued as we drove toward Fort McPherson
and the Peel River ferry crossing. Along
the way a black bear grazed berries along the roadside and was kind enough to
pose for a few photos.
The Peel River ferry crossing is a cable ferry. A cable is lashed to each bank of the river,
and the ferry slides along the cable to and fro. Each time we have crossed the ferry I have
asked what happens if the cable breaks. David
always reassures me. This time, however,
he said, “I wonder if they have a back up engine in case the cable does
break.” Not comforting words!!!!!
Fort McPherson rests on a peninsula between the Peel and
Mackinsie River ferry crossings. For us,
the town’s best feature is a great provincial campground with good
showers. Our dear friend, Robert, the
campground host, however, announced that the generator had failed, i.e., no showers,
no bath house, no water. With that unfortunate
news and badly in need of showers, we decided to travel on to Inuvik. The Mackinsie ferry crossing was rough but
good. By the time we hit the delta, the
snow had returned to rain, and we were feeling much more comfortable.
The next morning we drove into Inuvik to visit our favorite
café/bakery for a breakfast sandwich, coffee, and internet service. Next to us sat two gentlemen, enjoying the
same. Soon we struck up a conversation
with them. They were both ice road
truckers, one training the other to haul liquid methane. When they discovered that we were from Texas,
Richard explained that his company uses specialized, pressurized tankers built
in Mont Belvieu, Texas, to haul the highly explosive and flammable methane.
We spent the next several hours chatting with Richard and
David. David had just hauled a double
tanker up the Dempster earlier that morning.
He said that he had rarely seen the road so deep in mud. It had taken him seven hours rather than the
usual four to travel one portion of the Dempster. He suggested that we wait a day before
driving back down to Tombstone. We heartily
agreed.
In the midst of our conversation, David received a phone
call from a trucker following him. The
cable on the ferry had broken, and the rig was stranded on the ferry deck
itself. David told us that the last time
the ferry cable had broken, the ferry had drifted downstream and it had taken a
week to fetch it and put it back into service.
We were beginning to think that we were going to have a very long stay
in Inuvik.
Our conversation that morning wound through topics such as
the Ice Road Trucker television
series… yet another moment of disillusionment as we learned what a sham the
show truly is. Richard told us how
grateful he was for the United States… Big Brother, as he called it… and how
the U.S. looks after Canada soil. They
shared photos of their family and traveling over ice… and Richard told us his
crazy story about visiting the tanker manufacturer in Texas and ending up going
alligator hunting… too funny! Richard
was even kind enough to give us gifts, including the T-shirt my David is
wearing in this photo. Richard’s
generosity was overwhelming.
After our several-hour-long conversation with our two new trucker
friends, they agreed to allow us to take their photos. These men are true heroes in our eyes… they
risk their lives to bring goods to remote areas in North America. We are honored to know them.
So we spend another night in Inuvik. A check at the visitor center, however,
reveals more snow in the forecast, and we still have no word if the Peel River cable
ferry is back in operation. Life could
get very interesting indeed!
