Up Over: 7/19/16 Onward!

We are making progress!

Wheeling out onto mile 0 of the Alcan in warm sun, we were pleasantly surprised by the riding conditions. It appears that improvement in this section has been ongoing. New blacktop smoothed our journey as we passed miles of construction. The work is impressive, as huge machines dig down 4-5 feet to begin a new section of road.

The "aromatherapy" of the road heightened our scentual awareness today. Every turn blasted us with a new fragrance. Crude oil odors often permeated the air as we passed drilling fields. Then, the green smell of pine and fir surrounded us. Sometimes smoky charcoal filled the air as we passed miles of burned forest. The most prevalent scent all day was the sweetness of acres of clover that lined the road. Only nature could create a perfume this perfect.

Crossing over the Peace River, we headed toward Fort St. John, an early trading post that matured into a city. Wildlife again came into play as moose warnings popped up sporadically. A roadside picnic had us basking in 80 degrees. Wary of bears, we kept a lookout on the many "game paths" that lead up to our table.

Stripped of leather to beat the heat, we swung back into action. Passing logging trucks by the dozens, yet another smell accosted us - fresh cut wood. A huge industry here, every town sports at least one lumber mill that employs many of the residents.

A few miles later, a 20 degree drop in temperature pulled us over at Pink Mountain to gear and gas up. Inside, waiting to pay for the gas, I stood behind three young men, oil workers, who were housed across the road. Any of the sparsely situated motels that popped up along the route today had added temporary "motel rooms" for these workers. The conversation these men were having centered around how they missed their kids and wives. I hope they are being paid well, because they are definitely living a hard life.

The sound of rain pounding on the roof provided a reality check as we ran to the porch to see Rascal being soaked by Mother Nature's car wash. Drinking coffee, we waited out the storm, watching lightening strikes and listening to intense thunder. Somehow we were in the right place at the right time again.

Back on wet roads, we set our sights on Fort Nelson, 150 miles of straightaway, with nothing very human in between. The weather cooperated and we had clear sailing as we sped toward our destination. We landed at The Fort Nelson Inn, an eclectic old structure where we were two of only a few guests. It seems like tourism is not huge here.

So far, the Alaska Highway has been very civilized. We have seen no miners' mule trains, Conestoga wagons, outlaws or grizzlies. The populace, though scarce, has been friendly and helpful. Gas appears at comfortable intervals and road conditions have been acceptable. Wild animals have stayed at bay and for the most part we have ridden dry. But more importantly, we continue to ride as partners, mapping new roads and writing new chapters to our journey through life together.