The Land of the Midnight Sun
We took our time getting from Chicken down to the junction of the ALCAN Highway in Tok. As it was still early in the season, the road had not yet been repaired so it was slow going having to dodge the pot holes and slow for the frost heaves. We settled in for our first night in Alaska but because there was so much light, we stayed up quite late – well, later than usual.
By the next morning we realized we would have to move to an area with better cell coverage. The previous night the signal was quite usable but we learned that once everyone was awake, the local tower just couldn’t handle the load. Anyway with everything needing a good wash, we stop at the Tok RV Village to wash the rigs and also catch up with the Whale. They had left Dawson a couple of days before us to attend Chickenstock and then dropped down to the Tok. After a good clean, we pushed towards Fairbanks and stop near Delta Junction along with way for a few nights. Cell service and solar power were good and we found a Roadhouse with the most excellent strawberry-rhubarb pies.
From here it was a quick jog to Fairbanks and the reunion of our merry band of travelers. Less Junk and the Whale were already there. Less Junk had actually left Dawson City even earlier than the Whale. We started our stay in Fairbanks attending the Midnight Sun Baseball Game. What we were really looking forward to was the Midnight Sun Run – 10km race through Fairbanks. Starting at 10:00pm, it is part race, part costume contest and a good excuse for a celebration that winds through many neighborhoods. Residents actively participate in the event, from handing out drinks to full-contact spectating. Kyra, Meegan and I were able to complete it within the two hour window to get an officially recorded time. It was a blast! The next day we attended the Midnight Sun Festival in Fairbanks. I wore part of my costume from the run and was even recognized by fellow participants!
The midnight sun festivities concluded, what was really calling to us was the Arctic Ocean. There was only one US route there, the Dalton Highway. Legend has it that only the hardiest or craziest travelers would venture all the way to the Arctic Ocean on the 500-mile, tire-eating, window-breaking, semi-improved goat trail predominantly used by the truckers hauling equipment to and from the Prudhoe Bay Oil Fields. We parted ways with The Aluminum Whale and Less Junk More Journey and we performed our final preparations for the challenge that lay ahead.
