Orien Family News

I consider myself a fairly long-time Alaskan having lived here for the past thirty-one years. When I travel it is inevitable what people say when they hear I am from Alaska. “Alaska!” they exclaim. “Wow! I’ve always wanted to go to Alaska.”

As an Alaskan, I love that reaction. Alaskans are very proud of their state and proud to live here. It is an conversation opener and a great way to meet new people. We love to brag about “The Great State of Alaska”. Besides being geographically set apart from the lower 48, we are set apart by the innumerable unique features of this land of the far north and the abilities, attitudes and mind-sets we develop from living here.

I have noticed there are four main catagories to the things we brag about and keep track of up here…sort of like they did in the Old West in keeping track of very important things they did by putting a notch in the belt or gun barrell. I think the number one thing an Alaskan will brag about is how long they have lived here. Afterall, it takes a certain toughness to live here and the longer you stay the less of a sissie you are. Second is how big was their biggest fish. Third is how many times they have gone to Hawaii to escape the winter. And fourth but not least or last is how many times they have driven the Alcan (Alaska Highway) …or how many times you have not driven it. My husband liks to brag that he has never driven it and never will. Betcha he’s wrong about that if I have anything to do with it! Having just completed the drive up the Alcan for only the second time in 31 years I have a few thoughts to share about the trip.

I made the drive with my daughter Megan who needed a companion to bring her car home. Google maps says you can do the drive from Couts Alberta Canada (border crossing on Interstate 15 out of Great Falls Montana) to Anchorage Alaska in one 18 hour day. That’s 3729 kilometers or 2,317 miles. Humpf! Are they nuts? That’s about 129 miles per hour. It is obvious the Google folks have not driven that road and seen the frost heaves and winding mountain roads that slow you down to 40 mph or less for hours. And there are quite a few construction stops on parts of the road.

Megan likes to drive fast but having gotten a very expensive speeding ticket in Canada at Fort Nelson the last time we drove her other car home in 2005, she was restrained a bit more than usual. We figured we would make it in four days of hard driving. We did and we enjoyed the trip. The scenery is gorgeous. I love to drive along and gaze out at the marvelous scenes of farm land, mountains, rivers, lakes, and wildlife. We saw lots of deer, moose, goats, sheep, wild horses, buffalo, porcupine and black bear. They are right along the road so you have to be careful not to run into them. The towns are are few and far between and that’s okay. There are just enough to gas up, take a potty break and keep going. The road seems endless and it almost is. It is amazing to me that there is a road that goes from clear down in the lower 48 all the way through Canada and into Alaska. It is a long long way and goes through miles and miles and hours and hours of total wilderness. The road was originally built mostly by the US Army as a supply route during World War II and has been improved upon a great deal since then. It is mostly paved but due to frost heaves there are sections that are gravel and work goes on continually to grade and smooth.

We made friends with half a dozen other folks traveling the road one day and developed an interesting comraderie. We played leap frog with each other all day long as we passed them and they passed us stopping at times at the same place. When it was our turn to pass them they would wave their arm out the window to give us the okay signal and then wave and smile as we went by. One couple was driving a large 1980’s model Mercury that must have sucked up the expensive gas like crazy. The woman told me they had been on the road for 11 days from Toronto and were heading for the Yukon. I told her we were heading for Alaska. A few minutes later she told Megan they were heading for Alaska too. Her toothless smile made me wonder if she was missing more than a few teeth. In the end no matter how fast we went or how fast they went we all ended up at about the same place by the end of the day. We played follow the leader all over Whitehorse looking for a place to stay or gas up and forge on.

As I mentioned, Megan likes to cruise along as fast as she dares go and keeps an eagle eye out for police cars. We rarely saw any police. Being the law abiding citizen that I am but mostly not wanting to take a chance on getting an expensive ticket I kept right at the speed limit. For that reason Megan didn’t like it too much when I drove. She wanted to giddy-up and get home quick but I enjoy a more leisurely pace that doesn’t scare the beejeebees outta me on curves through the mountains. Just outside of Fort St. John there are lots of curving roads going up through the mountains where the visiblity is zero to get around any other slow vehicle. I was driving and happened to get behind the slowest moving motorhome we encountered anywhere. He was poking along at 30-40 for nearly an hour and I couldn’t get around him. Finally there came a break with some straight road and visibility so I put the pedal to the metal and zoomed around him got back in my lane and slowed down just in time to see a Canadian trooper flashing his lights right behind me. That mean guy had been hiding someplace just waiting for someone who was tired of following a slow vehicle to speed up in the only place for miles one can pass. He pulled me over showing no mercy at my explanation and triumphantly handed me a ticket for $197. I thought lots of bad thoughts about him being a weasel and a snake but kept them to myself as I could envision myself being cuffed and stuffed if I had voiced them. I could appeal of course if I set a court date sometime in the future and came back to their town to see the judge. Grrr. That, my friends, is what you call a “Speed Trap”. No doubt they make a good amount of money each day on folks who get caught just as I had. I wondered if the motor home that I was following was planted to set me up??? My husband thinks so. It sure was nice to get sympathy from him when I got home instead of the look over the top of his glasses and the murmur “I hope you learned your lesson.”

Anyway, I have another notch in my “Alcan belt” and feel pretty good about it. I could do it again and actually want to. I’d like to take it a little slower next time but not because of that mean ole trooper and his unfair punishment. I’d like to smell the roses as they say and enjoy a stop for more than just gas and potty. It is such a beautiful place it deserves more than just a passing glance from a car window at 60+ mph.

So what are my scores and how many notches do I have? 31 years; 45 lb. halibut; 4 trips to Hawaii; 2 trips up the Alcan. Ouch! In looking at my scores and bragging rights, they don’t look so good afterall. In fact, they are quite measley. I better shut up and get busy.

P.S. It is acutally 2296 miles from Couts Alberta (border crossing) to Anchorage and took us 45 hours. Salt Lake City to Anchorage was 54 hours.