North to Alaska with a No-Account Cat

Book by Herb Williams

                My wife, Sharon, and I have over the years satisfied our itchy feet, figuratively speaking, by traveling extensively throughout the United States and Canada, but neither of us had been to the “last frontier”—Alaska, and it was time to go before time ran out. I wasn’t getting any younger. Besides, we wanted to see for ourselves what the North Country was really like, and to verify—or disclaim—the horror stories about the road conditions up there.

After charting our route, I made a routine inspection of Big Blue—our misnomer for our thirty-foot motor home; it’s really big and white; only the trim is blue, but that combination doesn’t have the beauty of alliteration.

I had been warned to expect at least one flat tire, probably while we were somewhere in the boondocks, so I made sure the spare was properly inflated, although I had no idea how I might change a tire of that magnitude and weight! I made sure that all of the vitals (fluids) checked out and bought extra radiator hoses and a fan belt, the most vulnerable parts to give way when least expected. I also purchased fuel, oil and air filters, along with several quarts of motor oil. I bought bubble wrap to cover my headlights, and ¼” hardware cloth (actually wire mesh) and cut it to fit inside the grill to cover the radiator, because I had been told that I would encounter sections of construction where there would be loose gravel that would be kicked up by passing vehicles.

I packed a variety of clothing, especially a raincoat, and the other obvious necessities: passports, credit cards, traveler’s checks, cash, a cellular phone, less than two liters of liquor, and a six pack of beer. I left my handgun at home, since it is illegal to transport it into Canada. I checked to make sure my CB radio was working, and I made sure all of the window shades were in good condition since daylight during some parts of our trip was likely to last between sixteen and twenty hours.

I hooked up our ’98 Honda Accord—complete with rock shield—packed up Sharon and Pickles, our “no-account” cat, (the no-account label will be explained at our first Canadian border crossing), jumped into Big Blue, and off we went.

With the latest copy of The Milepost in hand, we proceeded to plan our trip. Since this “bible of the wilderness” contains updated information on maps, road conditions, campgrounds, businesses, and colorful side trips in Alaska, the Yukon, British Columbia, and Alberta, Canada it was reverently packed with thought toward care and accessibility. It turned out to be more crucial than food.

While we like to travel independently of time schedules and other restrictions, we thought it best to join an RV caravan for forty-one days of the approximately ninety days we had projected for the total length of the trip. This part of our journey was estimated to cover 3,800 miles from Dawson Creek, British Columbia to Haines, Alaska.

The object of traveling with a caravan was to relieve us of having to reserve campgrounds, entertainment venues, and restaurants in the heart of the area involved and to gain the guidance and support from a knowledgeable caravan master and a “tail gunner,” who could be depended on for help if a mechanical breakdown occurred—a likely scenario, according to many who had been there, done that.

          The larger part of the trip would cover 5,000 miles from Vancouver, British Columbia to Fort Macleod, Alberta, Canada, by way of Alaska and the Yukon.  Eventually, we would travel every major road, and several minor ones, throughout the interior of the vast land to the north.

          In the same humorous/historical style as Bill Bryson and Dave  Barry, North to Alaska with a No-Account Cat becomes a testament to the pristine scenery, colorful inhabitants, frontier-like towns  and exciting adventures found in the land of the midnight sun.  Share unique adventures in places such as the Sign Post Forest,  in Watson Lake, Yukon, Halibut Cove, on the Kenai Peninsula,  Alaska, and         Prince William Sound  near Anchorage, Alaska,  home to twenty-six glaciers, including the most spectacular—Meares and  Columbia.

           When I later sat down to write this book, it was not to provide just another standard trip log describing in detail every place and activity, rather, it was to provide entertaining descriptions, anecdotes, and stories, which hopefully create a chuckle now and then, while providing important information about, and creating an interest in Alaska, the Yukon, British Columbia, and Alberta, Canada—not necessarily in that order.