Back in the day, the ALCAN Highway Experience was one heck of a journey. Ride along and experience the old Alaska Highway.
“I totally loved your description of the highway. It matches my memories exactly.” Linda
As you read this story, you'll find yourself riding along on a historic adventure.
The Alaska Canadian Highway, or “ALCAN” was built during World War II as a military route. It was carved out of the wilderness. The completed road was an unforgiving experience for the hearty souls who braved the challenge.
Years later, while the highway was a bit more tame, it was still not for the faint of heart.
You're invited to ride along.
by Michael R Dougherty
The ALCAN was a narrow, gravel covered dirt road that wound through the
Canadian wilderness like a drunken snake had charted its course.
In
the summer, the constant sound of gravel flying off your tires and
pelting the under carriage of your car, truck, or camper could be
maddening.
Flat tires were common, as were broken headlights and windshields from gravel tossed up off the road by passing cars and trucks.
Driving the road and surviving it was a badge of honor.
While it was only a barely two lane dirt path, it was called a highway. The Alaska Canadian highway, or “ALCAN highway.”
As
a young boy living in Anchorage, the first time I heard the name
“ALCAN” I wondered why anyone would want to put an owl in a can.
The
highway begins in Canada at Dawson Creek and ends some 2012 miles later
at Delta Junction, Alaska. Construction of the ALCAN highway officially
began in 1942.
The first time our family drove the road, we went from Anchorage to Montana and then on to Texas.
The
drive from Anchorage to Delta Junction was uneventful. But back then,
the ALCAN wasn't paved like it is today. Once we entered Canada, we
only drove 20 miles or so before we had a flat tire.
That first
evening we pulled into Beaver Creek, Canada and spotted this huge log
hotel that also had a restaurant. We happily stopped there for dinner and stayed
the night.
The next morning we got up early, ate breakfast and
took off on our first full day on the gravel covered dirt road that cut its way through the beautiful Canadian wilderness.
I
remember seeing cars, trucks, and campers that had all kinds of
odd-looking contraptions mounted on the front of the vehicles to prevent
rocks from breaking their headlights. Most were gizmos made of wire
mesh. Back then, the gravel would hit your vehicle under carriage hard
enough that it could puncture your gas tank. As a result, some people
even fastened different types of padding under their vehicle to help absorb the impact of flying rocks.
One
thing I remember about the ALCAN Highway back in those days, was road
courtesy. If you came upon a car, truck, or camper stopped along the
road, instead of just driving by, you would stop and ask if they needed
help.
We experienced trouble with our car, just as we were coming into Fort Nelson. Our engine started
sputtering, and we barely made it to a service station. Once there, the
mechanic informed us that we required a part, but they
would have to order it.
We ended up staying at a local hotel for several days waiting for the part to arrive.
Later,
when we were back on the road, and in the middle of nowhere, a large
truck came around a curve. The truck was going pretty fast, and it threw
gravel up into our headlights, breaking one of them.
As it got darker and darker, we
continued to drive until we came to a small
settlement where we pulled into a service station hoping they could fix
our broken headlight. Fortunately, after some digging around, they found
the one bulb they had that would fit our car.
Back on the ALCAN Highway, Later that night we pulled into a town and found a small hotel. We checked
in, and the desk clerk gave my mom the room key. When we got to the
room, mom handed me the key and said, “Mike, my hands are full, you open
the door.”
I put the key in the lock, turned it and opened the
door. As I did, a lady in the room sat up in bed, looked at me and
screamed.
I said “sorry”, and quickly shut the door. We quickly
went back downstairs to see the desk clerk. When we told him what
happened, he said, “sorry, I'm new, I gave you the wrong room key.”
With
a new room number and key in hand, we went back upstairs. This time I
made sure I wasn't the one who opened the door to our room.
The
rest of our ALCAN highway experience was uneventful and when we finally ended up back
on pavement, it felt like we were floating on a cloud.
On our return trip, heading back to Anchorage, we pulled into a café and hotel in Destruction Bay.
While
eating our lunch, some Canadian Mounties came in and told everyone that
the road ahead was closed because of a washed out bridge.
We ended up having to spend nearly a week in the hotel while the bridge was repaired.
I
remember the day the Canadian Mounties came back to the hotel and
informed us that they had reopened the bridge, and we could head on up
the ALCAN highway anytime we wanted.
Back on the road and headed
for Alaska, we were curious to see the bridge that had been washed out.
Much to our surprise, the bridge ended up being nothing but a tiny
structure over a small creek.
When our adventure was over, and we were back in Anchorage, we were all happy to be off the road.
While
the highway is now paved and there are a lot more services available
along the way, I remember when driving that narrow gravel-covered road
took a lot of courage.
Since that first trip, I've driven the
road in all seasons, winter, spring, summer, and fall. It's a beautiful,
but exhausting journey.
Yes, I'm an Alaskan and I earned my ALCAN Highway badge of honor.
“I’ve learned a lot about my hometown of Anchorage, and you’ve jogged memories of things I haven’t thought about for years. I can only say YAY!” Juanita.
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