When The Waterfall Is Closed

What do you do when the waterfall is "CLOSED"?

This time of year, latter part of May in the Yukon, we expected most everything to be up and running. By now in Maine, where we spent much of our lives, seasonal activities are starting up no matter how grudgingly and no matter the fact that the weather can still be less than favorable. But that has certainly not been the case the further north we travel. Many if not most campgrounds are closed. Many if not most fuel stops are closed. Restaurants, closed. Gift shops, closed. Even the trapper's den was closed. But the waterfall? Yes, the waterfall near Rancheria, a 10 minute hike in from the road from the marker on the road was "closed." No idea why, but there was the sign we had seen so many times in the last couple days. Perhaps there were lavatory facilities that were inoperable. The ground is still frozen hard in places. Campgrounds that are open often do not have water and sewer operable yet, so you plan ahead as much as possible and conserve as hard as possible in between. It's not such a bad thing, just takes some thinking ahead.
The fact that the waterfall was closed brought to mind some related issues. The satellite TV we use to view our programming has been "closed" for several days now; it quite simply only works to a certain degree north...and then it's all done. But amusing ourselves with our developing northern sense of humor, we realized that, when we tried to start up the TV just in case it might work here, and the "snow" and background noise that usually accompanies a blank white screen both looked and sounded like the waterfall we hadn't been able to see en route today. We fancied the picture and sound to be the rush of the white water over the rocks and down the drop into the ravine....and then we moved on, just as we would have done had the falls been open. It's not like it's the only waterfall around, so no big deal, and we will be able to see it on the way back through in the fall.
Now a closed waterfall doesn't cost you much, but with the majority of fuel stops and eateries still closed up tighter than a drum, the cost of both food and fuel at the places that are open skyrockets. If those of you in the states are grappling with gas and diesel at 3 bucks a whack, try nearly 6 bucks a pop and see how that feels when your tank hold 150 gallons. A block of Cracker Barrel cheese that's normally in the 3 dollar range, sits on the shelves up here near 9. Still, it is what it is, and we consider those prices to be the price of admission to a show we surely do not want to miss.
Other than the waterfall thing, it was just another day in the Yukon Territory: bald eagles sitting atop a beaver dam, snow covered peaks on the Cassiar Mountains, black water glacial reflecting ponds and lakes and rivers, and caribou darting in and out of the pine cover along the side of the road.
Road Sign Of The Day: "All Those Who Hate Speeding Tickets, Lift Your Right Foot!" Personally, I don't know how it is possible to speed here. You miss too much if you go fast. You HIT too much if you go fast. And you burn way too much fuel if you go fast. Besides which, one small error in steering on any of these roads and, with almost NO guard rails and deep drops- you could be toast in a hurry if you're in too much of a hurry.
Below: Marilyn writes out post cards in our site for the night overlooking Lake Teslin. I'd like to tell you the lake is "open," but in fact it is still quite frozen in places other than right in front of us!

"Yu-kon" If You Try Hard Enough

Not much integration between photo and commentary in this post ( if ever there was). From the Yukon Territory, where the connectivity is little more than an occasional “internet Laundromat.” We sent e mails to “loved ones” as follows:
“We have spent our first day in the Yukon Territory. It is far easier to find elk, bear, caribou, fox, deer, beaver and a whole host of other glorious creatures than it is to find an internet connection! We say that to make a point about the wonder of the wildlife, not to complain about the lack of technical wizardry- although staying connected is part of our challenge; which is why I find myself writing to all of you this evening from Watson Lake, Yukon Territory, from, yes, an internet Laundromat! My clothes are all clean; I just needed the connection, thank you very much, Elvis.
Having an amazing time! Even for someone who fancies themselves a writer of sorts, there are no words to pass along the wonders of this place. It simply must be seen, or forsaken.
We expect to be without cell phone now for some time. This e mail is evidence that even in the wilderness, technology provides a link to the outside world if you just seek it out.
Best to send an e mail if you need to contact us and we will pick it up asap.
Think of you all far more often than we have the time to write individually; please don’t take that to heart- just keep in touch with the blog which will still get published as often as possible now. Link provided now at end of signature- just click and go….”
The sign forest at Watson Lake is perhaps what this thriving town of a couple dozen people or so is most famous for. There are probably more people than that based on the services here, but they’re not advertising population so I don’t know. Surely it is more than Liard at the Hot Springs which had about 29 people in residence. At 104 degrees F we bathed in the springs in lieu of shower and sewer connections at the adjoining campground where the ground was still frozen and things weren’t quite up to par yet.
We are running ahead of the madding crowd at this point and happy to have it that way. Left behind in our diesel exhaust are the weekenders and family outing types. Those of us leapfrogging down (make that “up”) the highway now are all booking it for Alaska. No longer the gold rush, now the salmon rush is in full regalia. I contemplated seriously tonight buying my Yukon fishing license and taking some of the grayling that are being caught at ice out edge in the lakes in the area- but to fish here now would only slow me down, and if nothing else now, I am “gold-rush-pitched” to get to Alaska and wet a line. No doubt the time and place is here for good fishing, but the allure of what has called to me all my life is only a few days away and I am feeling driven to keep going. As soon as I cross the border, I will be most happy to drop my fishing license fee into the state coffers. Alaska: I’m coming, honey. Just give me several more days!

Mile Marker 300

The bad news is: we had yet another day of driving in rain and cold and snow.
The good news is: We saw a Sasquatch sighting along the way at the posting crossing. The campground there, as the one we are in tonight, cannot guarantee that you can pump your sewage (the ground is still quite frozen) but they, unlike where we are tonight, can guarantee a daily sighting of the Bigfooted One.

We had heard it was expensive in Alaska. One can only hope that it is not as expensive as the Canadian Provinces. To save on water and sewer and all that good stuff that we do not have tonight we had a drink and dinner in the "neighborhood Pub." Ouch!!! At least the campground was only 13 dollars US. ( It was worth about $3.00) But that's still a deal here, boy!

900 miles now to the Alaska border; 1200 to Fairbanks. We be comin'! Slow but sure.

Great Alaska (ALCAN) Highway Begins

Dawson Creek, BC, Canada, the beginning mile "0" of the Great Alaska Highway. Well! We made it this far. 1500 miles from here to Fairbanks, Alaska, which for now is the aim of our plan. Weather corrections may need to be made. We arrived here today to four inches of snow which was promptly melted by a couple inches of rain, which in turn made for a soggy, muddy mess as the frost is just now coming out of the ground anyway. We 'bucket washed" the coach in near freezing temps because you could barely see it anymore after all the road grime that collected on it today.
Today's thrill was a quick pull-over at a creek crossing where a huge bald eagle was "looking fish" as they used to say on Roatan. Perhaps he just looked extra large because he was only about 50 feet away on the gravel bar. Eventually he flew off up stream; no time to grab the camera, but it was one of those up close and personal images that leaves a picture in your mind forever.

Click on pic below to read about the highway construction and Dawson Creek...

More Banff To Jasper

It was a second amazing day in a row enjoying the run from Banff to Jasper. Another day of superlatives. The "sno-coach" shown below takes area visitors onto the Columbia Glacier in the distance behind it. There is a second such coach in the picture, already on the glacier, but to give you a sense of the scale here- you can't even see the other coach when the picture is blown to full size- unless of course you can make out that little speck way way off in the distance. You DO have to see it to appreciate the grandeur of it all.It was a productive day for wildlife sightings as well. Lots more elk and even more Big Horn Sheep, one moose off in a distance at a place where there was no way to stop and get a picture. And speaking of NO PICTURE, there was one point along the run when I looked up at the mountain before us and said to Marilyn, I hope to you-know-what that is not a road up that hill that we need to travel..." It looked like a zigging zagging series of cuts to keep rocks from falling on the highway below- only it had what, at that distance, looked vaguely like a guard rail. Most of this stretch had been deceptively easy to drive with little sense of change in elevation and little sense that you could exit the roadway and plummet over the edge into the abyss at any given moment, but THIS...this gave me cause for concern. And with good cause- because it was exactly what it had appeared to be- the single most challenging grade and elevation change of the last two days. I needed to drop to 2nd gear to keep old Buster moving his butt up the mountain. It was an "I think I can, I think I can" type of situation. I didn't stop at the scenic overlooks for fear of never getting going again, and maybe I should just say I didn't stop "for fear." Period.
Much of the day was spent driving past areas posted as "Avalanche Zone" and to be sure, there were several places where there were "fresh" signs that the snow cap had given out and come down clearing everything in its path including rocks, trees and even the roadway. There were fresh repairs in a number of places and we took the posted warnings seriously and kept an eye out for what was happening above us most of the day. It may be May in the rest of the world, but it sure doesn't seem like it here, even though daytime temperatures have been more than comfortable. Winter wonderland is alive and well here for now.
Athabasca Falls is a beautiful spot along the route. It is in the part of the Province of Alberta where the Canadian Oil Sands Reserves are to be found. I spoke with a camp ground owner who is also on the Alberta Travel Council and he told me of the great difficulty in finding workers not only for campgrounds which are seasonal, but for nearly every job available here- the reason is that the oil field jobs pay wages that make it nearly impossible not to go to work for them if you have a skill they can possibly use. But the oil shale was nowhere to be found today and the falls was, so here's the picture...

And here's a great couple we met along the way today. While we were pulled over at a scenic overlook (they call them "parking lots" in Alberta) another coach towing a car pulled up along side.
"OK. Who's from Florida?" asked the driver.
Long story short: Tom and Mary Lou had a house on Cape Coral before going full time in their coach. They lived near the library which put them not too many blocks away from our place on the Cape. Where are they headed? Alaska. Where are they staying tonight? Same place we are? Where? Two sites over to be exact, so we got together for happy hour and got to know each other a bit. When we first met, I was wearing my "Bite Me" mosquito shirt from Roatan. Can you believe they are divers too and had been on one of the Roatan live aboard dive boats? We have a lot of small world stories (guess this one is a small third world story). Tom's theory is that the world may not actually be that small, but the number of adventurous people probably is quite small, so we always meet sooner or later. I like that! Rings true. If you can, note the front plate of their coach: 2CHILL. It's a parrot head plate and for those who may be saying, " A what?" A parrot head is a Jimmy Buffet music fan. And I am a fan of any fan of Jimmy's. No doubt we'll see you again down the road.
Closing notes about Verizon cell phone service and the pc card for the wireless laptop: Yea, yea, I know, this is more technical than this blog usually gets, that's why we have the link to Geeks On Tour, but a number of readers have been discussing phone connectivity lately so now that we have some slightly out of the ordinary experience I thought I would weigh in. Much to our shock, amazement, and joy, our cell service with Verizon on the North American plan has been totally without interruption so far in Canada, with the exception of certain parts of the Banff to Jasper run- where no one gets service of any kind and probably never will. The mountains there are so high and surround the road so completely that on occasion even the GPS dropped the satellite for bits here and there. Verizon told us not to expect coverage in many of the areas we have been. Now maybe that will become the case as get further north and in more remote areas but so far so good. And the PC card has worked absolutely everywhere the cell did, despite the fact that Verizon told us that probably none of the Canadian towers would support data transmission. This is NOT a paid advertisement (Although, Verizon, if you're reading this I do love you and I do have a sponsorship open for you). But it is to confirm that where others have failed, Verizon, knock on wood, is hanging in there with the wifi and the satellite phones.

One final note for tonight, when we arrived at the campground (well, actually right before we arrived) we drove past it a couple miles into the village of Hinton, which will not be on our route tomorrow, so that we could fuel up at the only truck stop for many miles. The pumps were fitted much differently than in the states, the main difference being the nozzle is small and looks like a gasoline nozzle. So I asked a number of questions to assure myself that in fact I would be pumping the correct fuel into the tank- #2 diesel. First one employee, then two, then three came out to the pump to "help." Much to our surprise, they all claimed never to have seen a motor coach this big at their service station and they all wanted a good look and a quick chat. Their "diesel guy" as they called him was curios to know if he could buy our kayaks, so I guess he hadn't seen those before either. I don't know! The town didn't seem THAT small to me. It was a curious but friendly enough encounter and I guess we all learned something- and isn't that just the point!?

The Bigger They Are...

The bigger they are, the harder they fall, or so the saying goes. Last night, as I was washing my hair in my nice, private shower, in my nice, comfy coach, tucked into the Canadian Rockies between Banff and Jasper, where 911 is a joke because "ain't no phone service anyway", the saying's worth became evident. The fold-down seat in the shower stall, rated to hold a 300 pound "showerer" (a rating which I am nowhere near), let go, actually shattered without warning- and my 6'3" vertical frame was instantaneously dropped and wedged into the bottom of the stall. This is like trying to fit a 20" salmon into a six inch fry pan- some thing's gonna get bruised along the way. Wrenched my foot pretty good, cut a finger on the right hand, gashed my abdomen a tad, and did irreparable damage to my pride. Falling down is embarrassing enough, but far worse when one is bare ass to boot. I let out a reflex grunt when I hit bottom. Marilyn, who doesn't ordinarily move all that fast, came dashing in from the salon to report an earthquake- only to find me scrunched up in the bottom of the shower.
"Did you pass out? Did you have a heart attack? Did you suffer a stroke" Is your back OK? Are you hurt?"
Let's see, "No, No, No, No, and Perhaps."
One or both of us managed to open the shower door, water still running on full. You've seen the ads where the person has fallen and can't get up? Been there, now, done that. Just like sardines do not remove themselves from the can, I couldn't seem to find a position from which to start the initial ascent from the shower pit. But after some adjusting, we managed to extricate my crumpled ruins from the pit without having to remove the skylight over the shower and having the glacier sight seeing helicopter hook on and pull me up through it.
A couple bruises, a few drops of blood, nothing lasting.
I decide I am A-OK. That allows a concerned wife to say how she really feels about her friend and companion and lover and chauffeur: "Good, because you looked like a soft pretzel that had been left out in the rain!" Eh!
There was a good solid hour of laughter that followed. She's still laughing...
And NO there are mercifully no pictures to accompany this report. You may each thank me for that at the appropriate time.

Mountains In My Mirrors

The true temptation is to post all 130 of the “keeper” photos from today. Cutting it to fewer than 20 took a long time, and while I could and should cut it a whole lot further- I don’t feel like it! The run from Banff to Jasper, of which we completed about half today on the Ice Field Parkway, is the most amazing drive I have ever taken in my life- bar none. In miles it wasn’t all that long a day, but hour wise it took some serious time. Not because the drive was scary or difficult, but because with every bend in the road, the scenery, which was already spectacular, became even more so. Mountains bigger and more breathtaking. Snow cover more solid. Glaciers closer to the road. Wildlife we’ve not spotted before. Multiple photo op stops were necessary! And then I realized that there were mountains in my mirrors- an important life lesson no doubt. We had been so intent on looking forward to the next mighty vista, that we had forgotten to look back to see where we had been. The first time I noticed what was already behind me, I realized it was as good as what lay before. The same mountain from the other side is a different mountain all together.

Most of the photos used for this post will speak for themselves. You can blow them up for a somewhat better idea of what we saw, but honestly a photo cannot portray the sense of majesty and scale of the Canadian Rockies. Talk about awesome! They line both sides of the road we travel. Essentially we are weaving our way through the entire chain of them, so high mountains on the left, on the right, immediately ahead and bringing up the rear at all times. Transitioning from about 3000 feet to 7000 feet elevation, the highway is an engineering marvel and the changes were gradual and nearly unnoticeable. If we weren’t here and seeing it for ourselves, we might just find it unimaginable. But here they are and here we are.

A note on the critter shots. This is wilderness, not a zoo, so you get what you get for a photo opportunity. You can’t jump out and go walking up to the nice bear for a better shot, so pardon the “posterior” angle and slight blurriness. Thanks to the digital zoom just for allowing me to prove I really saw him in the wild! And as for the Big Horn Sheep, well, we worked darn hard to find them but when we did it was an “oh My God” moment to be sure.

A Ticket To The Winter Olympics

A two day layover in Calgary to provide time to change money at the bank, do a bit of food provisioning and set an agenda for the rest of the month, left a little time for looking around the city and taking in a few sights.
The photo below shows the 1988 Olympic Winter Olympic Games Park. Most of the snow and all of the Olympians are gone now. It was hard to even imagine this location was once home to world winter sport. This is the venue that made the Jamaican Olympic Bobsled team international heroes of sport. To this day, they are selling Rasta wigs and hats in the gift shop. But without the games, the snow, the national fervor, the site itself seems lonely and empty and the ski jump towers looked like bare bones against the threatening sky.
But not wanting to waste the moment, I strapped on my skis, took the lift to the high tower and launched myself into the sky. Fortunately Marilyn was quick with the camera and captured the moment for posterity. I had a safe landing and scored all 6's on my jump, but one was enough.
We had to do some basic food provisioning as some of the rest of the Alberta portion of the trip will take us through some very sparsely populated areas, and areas that aren't quite "open" yet. For example, the next several campgrounds will accept campers that are self contained only. The reason is that the ground is still frozen- hence no water, no sewer. But we need to traverse the region and we need to do it now, so managing the situation as we find it becomes job one.

We located a farm supply store and traveled there to get the block salt for the coaches water softener system. The GPS in the Honda doesn't "do"Canada or Alaska, so we needed to pull the GPS from the coach and hold it in the car. Calgary is a city of a million people and growing fast. It is a big city- also a very beautiful one. Like all towns in the northland, the construction all needs to get done when the weather breaks for the better, so there was a lot of construction in and out of the city (the GPS figures detours which is why we really needed it).

On the way back we stopped at a super grocery store that had an absolutely amazing seafood department. We bought some "barbecued salmon bits" that were quite yummy. I always love to see what a store has at their fish counter, but this one forced me to take pictures. The one below shows how all the shellfish were held- spread out on trays that had salt water spraying on them constantly. They were all alive, all fresh, and beautifully displayed: mussels, oysters, several types of clams, Dungeness crabs. Went back to the coach and made some nice sushi for dinner.
I can't resist sharing the "crossing" signs we find along the way. This one was in the gift shop at Olympic Park. Our time in Calgary was too short. I would certainly come back and Id love to see the Stampede, which is probably the number one billing for the city.

Alberta, Canada Eh!

The border crossing was uneventful and pleasant enough. Marilyn used to carry a pepper spray in her pocket book and so when they asked us if we had that, we weren’t really sure. Evidently we didn’t have it with us, so on we went. All of the insurance documents that we jumped through hoops to get were not requested. Neither were the dog records that we spent hours trying to figure out the requirements for. NOT A PROBLEM! Happy to say hello, how are you? Eh? And cruise on through. It was a cold and rainy day for entering Canada, one of the milestones of our trip, and a short run to the first campground which was very respectable and our first impression of Canadian facilities. We know that, being a larger coach, there will be many provincial parks we cannot fit into…or if we do fit in, will probably not be able to get out of- but that is the game of life- seeing where you fit in.
We used our time to download and print metric conversion tables so that we know how fast to go, how cold it will be at night, etc. Even the weather band on the satellite radio reports in metric, and sometimes in French as well. We printed out our charts, laminated them and have them ready for the next day’s journey to Calgary. We reprogrammed the Garmin 7200 GPS to metric as well so tomorrow it will be reading kilometers per hour rather than miles per hour and our risk of inadvertent speeding should be eliminated. I’ve never been a metric kind of guy. It has always confused me…and as a result I have more or less refused to absorb it, or even really acknowledge it. Now I hope to leave that attitude behind and learn it and “feel” it as much as possible. There is a time when you stop fighting that there are some things you don’t want to learn just because you don’t want to learn them, and accept that you will learn them because the time has come that you must! This is that time.
Last night in the “Last Resort” before crossing over into Canada, we met Gary and Judy. We will introduce you to them later- properly. What a wonderfully pleasant, knowledgeable, and well traveled couple they are! They are Alaskan residents, gold mine operators, RVers (full timers). Talk about our kind of people! They were outwardly friendly, generous with their time and expertise in areas that we have only scratched the surface on, and sociable to the point that we turned in later than usual on a night before leaving one country and entering another. They graciously offered to hook up with us when we get to Anchorage and show us the ropes for panning and prospecting for gold. When we came back to our coach after a full evening with them, enjoying their stories and video of Alaska and their camaraderie we looked at each other and the word that came to mind (not "mine") was “fortuitous”. Simply put, we could not have met someone more knowledgeable in things we are interested in if we had looked high and low, put an ad in a paper, advertised on the internet, researched the chamber of commerce for all Alaska. Like just a few others we have met on the road before them, we suspect we have met some real friends- and ain’t that grand!

Our Readers Ask:

Our readers ask:

"Greg, How were you able to get those incredible shots of those magnificent buffaloes you used in previous blogs?"

Greg:

"I'm so glad you asked. Actually I have modified a technique once used by the wagon train scouts to get close to the herd. Indians used this trick to get close enough to get a shot with a bow and arrow on hunting trips as well. Since I don't have an actual buffalo hide (called a robe) and head to use, I creep onto the Plains wearing a fleece blanket with Koala bears on it (brown side out; green side down) while wearing a cheap buffalo head hat from Mt. Rushmore souvenir shop. I try to stay relatively still in the field in more or less a "Christina's World" position until I can get my shot. I'm always happy to answer your tough questions. Thanks for writing in..."

The technique is illustrated below: