Atigun Pass to Fairbanks

Posted by Alex on 15 August 2009

Having reached the highpoint on the Dalton Highway, all we wanted was downhill from then on, and downhill it was, for the first few miles at least...

the road was so steep that our brakes started smelling very hot. We covered the next ten miles quickly, the scenery resembling that North of the Pass. Coming over the next hill, we descended into our first forest, small stunted spruce trees scattered across the hills. Our view was limited however by the smoke; it had thickened considerably south of the Pass. The mountains faded into the haze. Another few miles under our tires and we stopped to camp near a river for the night. At this stage, we still had no bear protection devices (bear spray or gun) so we were hoping that there were no bears in the area. The hope was short lived. In the sand, not thirty feet away from the tent was a clear set of bear tracks leading right past the camp. Our bear awareness was then highly tuned but our bear defence strategy was nigh inexistent. We ate and stashed the food over 200m down the river and lit a fire on camp. Tiredness quickly overtook us however and we forgot all about bears. The next day took us through beautiful valleys and the forests grew denser and taller until finally, after nearly 60 miles, we arrived at Coldfoot. Little more than a truckers service station, the diner represented to us a return to civilisation. 24hrs of charging batteries, endless coffee refills and a huge burger and we were on the road again, continuing south. Although the landscape flattened out a little, Gobblers Knob seemed to continue upwards for miles and around the corner. Coming down the other side, we camped in a small campsite just off the road, once again tuning into bear mode. The next morning we woke to find out tents engulfed in thick fog and the temperature barely creeping above 10C. We set off, lights flashing and wearing high visibility jackets but the higher we climbed the more the visibility dropped until we could see no more than 30 feet. We hurried up and over the hill to descend out of the clouds and arrived at the Arctic Circle, on the 66th latitude. This milestone finally ticked off, we were out of the polar region, this seemed to make little difference however to the weather, the clouds and drizzle stretching far into the distance. Awaiting us on our route were both the Beaver Slide, a 2 mile long horrendously steep climb and Finger Mountain which just kept going up for what seemed hours. Having set our sights on camping at the top, we arrived up there with little energy left. The conditions there however were less than welcoming. The wind was howling and the temperature had dropped again. We therefore decided to carry on for a while and found with great pleasure that the next 10 miles was mostly free riding downhill, until we hit a long flat road that, for the sake of road works and the large trucks had recently been sprayed with Calcium Chloride to minimise dust on that particular section. Although the muddy section only lasted a few miles, our bikes emerged caked in several kilos of mud, cluttering up the gearing and brake systems, rendering them near useless. We decided to setup camp near a river so as to give the bikes a quick clean. Having cleared most of the mud, Christine a RV camper from Montana stopped off to walk her dog and was shocked to know that we had no bear protection, she had seen 26 bears in her trip from Montana to Alaska and very kindly donated her industrial power bear repellent for us to keep. Needles to say that the following nights were spent in blissful carefree sleep. Awaking the next morning we were once again surprised by the weather, a night storm had cleared all the clouds and smoke to reveal a bright blue sky and stunning views. It was going to be a good day for cycling. To make the day even better, we had scheduled to arrive at the Yukon River crossing by lunchtime where we knew another burger was waiting for us. The miles flew past and in no time we were sitting inside, once again drinking too much coffee and ordering the biggest burger on the menu, only this time we had to continue cycling with our full stomachs, and we had a steep hill to climb. The sun was shining though and the Red Hot Chilli Peppers were setting the mood so up the hill we plodded one pedal stroke at a time. Two long hills and another two very long downhills found us camping right next to the pipeline again, allowing us to study it up close, also providing us with a safe perch in the event of any unwelcomed visitors (bears have not yet completely slipped our minds). The next day was to be a good one, in theory, we would come to the end of the Dalton highway, after 414 miles of mostly gravel and we would spend the night at the Arctic Trading Post with Joe Carlson and his family, but we ran out of food... I had not realised before how dependant we were on constant snacking and a high energy lunch. By 4pm, with another 30 miles to ride, we were having to push our bikes up the slightest hill, unable to muster any strength, either mental or physical for the following hill that slowly crept into view around the corner. We arrived at 8pm and stumbled into the Arctic Trading Post, with eyes only for the home made muffins and free coffee. Two blueberry muffins and a cup of coffee later, we had regained some composure and proceeded to set up camp and crash. Joe and Nancy Carlson originated from the lower 48 but came to Alaska nearly 35 years ago with their 8 children in a converted school bus to build their new home. Over the last three decades, Joe and Nancy adopted and raised 23 children, all but two having now flown from the nest. The homestead is the legacy left by thousands of hours of concerted work and a real inspiration. Having breakfast with Joe the next morning, we met up with another pair of cyclists, Belinda and Rolland, doing a similar route to ours... but on a tandem bike. Now even though Fin and I get on well and are mostly on the same page, I am practically certain that a tandem bike would spell disaster for us. We will leave that to them give the all the credit. This was our last day on the northern part of our Alaska trip. Numerous hills late, but at least on tarmac, we arrived smelly and sweaty to Leeann and Randy's house in Fairbanks where Leeann welcomed us with truly exceptional hospitality. The next few days were to be R&R.   

27 comments. Tags: smoke, gravel hills, alex. Location: Fairbanks, USA