Dalton Hwy I

Return south along the Dalton Highway

Having now reached the point beyond which we proceed only by water, we undertake the descent towards the south which will take two days to reach Fairbanks along the 666 km of the Dalton Hwy through desolate lands.

Sag River Overlook and the Arctic wetlands

At 8 we are ready to leave heading south when the day is as we left it last night. All this gives us hope, so much so that after a few km we leave the meteorological border area between land and sea to encounter a cold sun inland that will accompany us throughout the day. We stop in a layby where there are hunters' tents and caravans: caribou hunting is open in this period. At a certain point a pickup truck arrives complete with a freezer on top to stow the meat and then transport it.

We also stop for a moment at Sag River Overlook, panoramic point on one of many rivers which descend directly towards the north, at the height of the pump station no. 2. 60 people work here and there is 24-hour surveillance.

The vegetation is made up of simple shrubs and thick moss that appears almost rubbery when walked on. The landscape continues quite monotonously. The whole area is full of marshes and ponds, which represents a paradox since rainfall is extremely scarce, just 13 cm of rain per year. However, the water is unable to drain due to the fact that the permafrost does not allow passage into the underground layers, with the consequence that it remains on the surface. The area is therefore called wetland even though it is not very rainy. The poor evaporation due to low temperatures also contributes to the presence of marshes. In the months of June and July there is a real proliferation of mosquitoes and small black flies, which remain harmless. These situations are the source of further phenomena specific to cold lands, such as pingos.

Galbraith Lake

As we continue, the first mountains of barren rocks and totally devoid of vegetation begin to appear on the horizon. Frugal picnic at 2pm near Galbraith Lake, after accepting long waits near alternate directions as maintenance work on the road surface is underway.

Along the Trans-Alaska Pipeline

Along the entire route the road runs parallel to the Trans Alaska Pipeline, which from time to time sinks underground or leaps from one side of the road to the other. Although on the surface they may seem meaningless, these are nothing more than a series of measures to maintain constant temperatures as well as protect against the frequent earthquakes that strike Alaska. One of these is the zig zag construction. It is also passed underground when you are in areas at risk of avalanches or near pumping stations.

Atigun Pass and the return of greenery

We reach the highest point on the Hwy atAtigun Pass at 1,444 meters which is also the highest road pass in all of Alaska, as well as the continental watershed between the Yukon basin and the Arctic basin, where a few years ago the pipeline lost a lot of oil. It is not known whether the cause was accidental or intentional. From a landscape perspective it is not very beautiful, given the roughness of the terrain, but there are pleasant valleys on both sides and near the road we can spot a group of Dall sheep intent on grazing the little grass available.

It should be considered that the altitude in relation to the latitude certainly could not have allowed us to find palm trees. Even though it doesn't have the hairpin bends that characterize our valleys, one wonders how trucks can go up this road in the winter months. We don't even dare to think how the slightest accident could have lethal consequences in these extreme conditions.

South of the pass, as we descend, the green color begins to appear more insistently. It is no longer just mosses and shrubs that dominate and the landscape becomes more varied. The coniferous forests in the distance make the panorama more varied and animated, in the classic style of North American valleys. Even the peaks are more plastic and less barren than in the north. The torrents that rush down bring with them crystal clear water. If only the thin yet annoying blanket of high clouds left room for the sun, it would all make for a heavenly image.

Last Spruce and the return of the forest

Afterwards we stop a couple of times at the Chalander Shelf and at the height of the Last Spruce, the last fir tree, or rather the one that represented the northern limit of the tall vegetation. There is a sign placed to highlight this fir pioneer, who did not fear the cold for many years but was killed by an idiot who hit him with an axe. We certainly cannot understand what faults can be attributed to the poor tree which was destined to be born and survive further north than others of its species.

We meet some hunters hunting caribou. They are armed with crossbows with arrows and they explain to us how within a 5 mi range. You cannot hunt or simply use firearms around the pipeline. Almost everywhere you can see tents placed in the middle of nowhere waiting for the hunting enthusiasts to return in the evening.

The vegetation is starting to tend towards yellow, a clear sign that autumn will not be long in arriving, despite having just passed mid-August. It is surprising to note how everything here is forced to concentrate its activity in the short summer months, so as to be able to complete its cycle before the frost takes over everything again. The road is entirely unpaved, at times where you can even reach 40 mph (the daring truck drivers with their trucks even reach 50) alternate with infernal bits. So much so that you can't see traditional cars alongside pickups and off-road vehicles.

Coldfoot Camp

We arrive at Coldfoot when it is already evening with a final walkway consisting of 15 mi. of asphalt that begin at Wiseman. A real godsend for our rears. Previously we had already encountered a few miles of them at pump station no. 2. We settle in at Coldfoot Camp, the only or among the few accommodations available within hundreds of miles.

We have dinner in a very original saloon that tastes like the last frontier. It doesn't need great fictions as happens elsewhere to simulate the wild west, it just needs to remain as it is. In fact, Coldfoot is nothing more than a large service station located halfway between Fairbanks and Deadhorse, where all the trucks stop to refuel and refresh themselves.

I feel a moment of panic at the idea of having to spend another evening without an Alaska Amber, the fresh (and God forbid!) local beer. They explain to us that beer cannot be served in the room where we are but only in the adjacent one. We are happy to move. All-you-can-eat style buffet dinner with excellent meat and vegetables, unthinkable at this latitude and in this desert of humanity. The rooms are decent but nothing more, after all we cannot expect great things from such a place, in the middle of nowhere, crossed all year round by trucks and only for a short season by tourists.

If it changed it would lose its charm, which we find instead in Visitor Centre. It is a true cathedral in the desert, albeit of excellent workmanship and with wooden architecture that integrates well with what surrounds us. Bearing in mind that it is only operational for a few months a year, the impression remains that of a waste of money made possible only by the wealth generated by oil.

After dinner we take a walk to visit it, tonight there is a pleasant conference on how to learn from animals to survive the crisis. Never again would we have been able to think of such an interesting topic being discussed in a place that we can define as out of this world, without fear of contradiction. A brilliant speaker, with the aid of slides, explains to us how caribou defend themselves from adverse seasons by emigrating, bears by hibernating, the strength of wolves is instead that of gathering in packs and in this way being able to hunt better and therefore survive, snow rabbits and fireweed dry up at the end of the season to make room for the new generations next spring. It's the paraphrase of retiring.

Returning to our room we see the hunters' pickups loaded with prey in the large freezers they have on board. May the hunt go well we can guess it from the horns tangled above. There is even a helicopter parked in the large spaces in front. But we know that in America everything is big.