We drove into Edmonton about lunchtime Friday, did some last minute shopping, and ate at the all-you-can-eat buffet at Shakey's Pizza Parlor. We left Edmonton about 2:30 and arrived at Dawson Creek, Mile 0 of the Alaska Highway at sunset. We made it to Charlie Lake, Milepost 52, before we stopped and crashed on the side of the road next to the Red Barn Pub.
Yesterday we made it to Watson Lake, Yukon Territory. It was a long, hard day. We stopped last evening in Muncho Lake, population 24 and got gas for 62.9 cents a liter and a beer for $1.89 plus tax, along with the required order of french fries. Muncho Lake is a beautiful spot, surrounded by dramatic mountains on all sides.
The people in these parts are real pioneers, without the comforts we're accustomed to. They have electricity, and phones which sometimes work, but flush toilets are rare and TV is available only if you also have a receiving dish. Tiny little settlements of 25 people or less are spaced 50 or 100 miles apart along the Alaska Highway, with nothing but trees, rivers, and mountains in between. The people depend on the Highway for their livelihood. A typical settlement consists of 1 or 2 families who operate a gas station, campground, and restaurant. A few people, mostly indians [sic,] depend on fishing and hunting.
We stopped about 11:00 last night at Contact Creek, Yukon for gas. I also went in and had a cup of coffee and a piece of blueberry pie. Contact Creek consists of about 6 or 8 people and about 3 buildings. It is 130 miles from Muncho Lake, the nearest settlement to the south, and about 50 miles from Watson Lake to the north. On the south side of Contact Creek, we drove through an area 73 miles long and encompassing millions of acres, which had been burnt last year in a huge forest fire. Where there had once been thick forest was now an area of sandy, rapidly eroding hills covered with the charred skeletons of millions of trees, some still standing, some blown over by the wind.
As I sat eating my pie, another traveler on the highway came in and reported a fire a few miles back down the road. The phone was not functioning in Contact Creek, so Mike and I had to stop at the weigh station near Watson Lake, the nearest phone, and have someone contact the appropriate authorities.
Contact Creek does not have a TV receiving dish, but for a while last winter, they rented one. Now, if they want to watch television, they can choose among the several movies they videotaped when they had the dish. While I was eating my pie, I overhead the proprietors of the cafe discussing which movie they should watch. That had seen them all probably a half dozen times. For a while it seemed that Bugs Bunny was going to be the consensus, but in the end the choice was "that adult movie" from the Playboy Channel.
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