19. Coldfoot & the Dalton Highway I

We left Fairbanks for Coldfoot, which is halfway between Fairbanks and Prudhoe Bay (which is on the Arctic Ocean). Prudhoe Bay made its way into the headlines when oil was discovered in 1968. It is now a thriving commercial oil drilling site, transporting 1.8 million barrels of oil a day through the 800 mile Trans Alaska Pipeline System (TAPS) down to Valdez in south Alaska. We thought it was pretty cool. Deadhorse, the town on Prudhoe Bay that supports the oil workers, has average high/low temperatures in January of -7 degrees F, to -16 degrees F. Needless to say, there's pretty much no one but the oil workers up there.

The road from Fairbanks (actually just north of Fairbanks) to Prudhoe Bay is the reputed Dalton Highway, which travels alongside of the TAPS. Travel guides tell you that "Driving the Dalton Highway is a once in a lifetime adventure, but motorists should be prepared to be self-sufficient." Meaning, no gas stations, food or water, places to stay (other than Coldfoot) and certainly no cell service. You're in the middle of nowhere. The road is 25% paved, the rest dirt & gravel. Depending on recent weather and road maintenance, the paved road has frequent road heaves and potholes, while the dirt roads are washboardy, alternately dusty or muddy, and rife with the propensity to launch pebbles from oncoming vehicles into you car or windshield. Fun!

Our destination, Coldfoot Camp, is one of the few inhabited places in Coldfoot. I mentioned previously that Craig's friend from Skagway called it "the armpit of Alaska". Haha. He wasn't kidding. There is a main building where guests are checked in and buffet style food is served, as well as a helicopter landing pad. Across the muddy, pot-holed dirt lot is the lodging, which is a rusting, trailer/motel-like structure they laughably called "The Inn". Our room consisted of 2 single beds pushed up against the walls with about 18 inches of space in between. Our airline sized bathroom contained a shower whose dozen or so cracks were repaired with a fiber-based tape. Don't get me wrong - I'm not averse to cramped quarters or cheap furnishings; Craig and I have endured this with a smile many times before. What seriously irked me was the $250 it cost to crash there for one night. Sheesh! Most expensive and cheesiest accommodations of the trip.

All that aside, the drive up the Dalton proved unexpectedly enjoyable. Its colder up there, and Fall colors were already out. Check out the pixMeer informatie