One night in Anchorage was plenty. We spent most of Tuesday driving east then north to Fairbanks. Klaus and Leslie have a massive motorhome which sleeps four and often more.
It was a very long drive and for most of the ride, I sat in the passenger’s seat in the front, gaping at the views of the mountains, the big, blue skies and the forests. Everywhere looks like a bit like somewhere else, of course, but the scenery here really is stunning.
We stopped just a couple of times on the way, and each time, when the traffic disappeared, the silence was loud. Not even the sounds of birds singing, no trees rustling in the wind, not even the sound of my own heartbeat, just pure, golden silence.
The road itself was, mostly, in a very good state of repair. Where there were rough areas, the potholes were nowhere as bad as at home. There were several stretches that felt like a rollercoaster ride, very bumpy, possibly due to climate change: the permafrost isn’s as permanent as we thought.
The mileage markers provided a progress report of sorts, but very slowly. Once the mountains and Denali National Park had been passed, all we saw was road and trees. Lots of trees. I like trees but it’s nice to have a bit of variety.
Asa and I played a quick game of “Man Bites Dog”, a card game in which reasonable sounding headlines are constructed from the words on five cards randomly dealt.
Denali, formerly known as Mount McKinley, was hidden behind cloud. For a while, we saw the top half and later on, the bottom half. One day, we hope to see the whole mountain at once.
One thing we’ve not seen at home for many years is, after a long car journey, dozens of squished insects on the windscreen. Alaskans just use much less pesticide, I guess. Some of the bugs were quite big, judging by the size of the skidmark they left.
I’m sure everyone smiles when they drive over Ship Creek, with or without a paddle. Only to be outdone later by Sheep Creek. Not forgetting Dry Creek, Joseph Creek and many more. But I looked in vain for Jonathan Creek.
It was good to finally arrive at the campsite in Fairbanks. Good to get out and walk around in the fresh air. I always envisage Fairbanks as a cold, snow and ice covered place, but on arrival the temperature was 91°F, 32°C, not at all what I would have expected. Liesel had attended the University of Alaska at Fairbanks and has told tales of having to keep a car engine heated overnight so that it would start in the morning. And of having to keep her inhaler close to her heart to stop the contents from freezing. And how car tyres get so cold, the rubber solidifies to the point where, until they warm up with movement, they bump along the road. But here we were in a hot Fairbanks and everyone looked happy.
I wandered around the campsite, enjoying the sight and aroma of the fireweed, smiling at the Christmas trees by the so-called nature trail. There are over 50 pitches on this site, but it’s very nicely set out, plenty of space for each motorhome or van or truck or boat.
We are 64.8°N here and the Sun sets very late. There are maybe four hours of total darkness overnight. I knew this but even so, it’s disconcerting to go to bed when it’s so bright outside. I woke up a few times in the night and couldn’t work out whether it was still light from the night before, or maybe the Sun had risen on a new day.
We heard some planes and most of them had small propellor engines, so it was a surprise to hear and see the odd larger, passenger plane.
This is a good opportunity to introduce Liesel’s family here in Alaska. Her Mom is Leslie and her Dad is Klaus. We’re in their ginormous motorhome. Liesel’s brother is Aaron, who is married to Jodi. Their boys are Asa, 12, and Gideon, 9, who both play soccer, that is, proper football as opposed to American football! They’re both taking part in a soccer tournament here in Fairbanks this week, which is why we’re all here. Their teams are called Arsenal 05 and Arsenal 07 respectively but we don’t know why they picked that particular team name.