Bearly Alaska

Two hundred and twelve miles would get me back within the States today.  Well, sort of.  Departing Smithers BC early this morning and with one last unobstructed look at Hudson Bay Mountain, I was anxious with the anticipation of finally touching Alaska.

 

Heading north on Highway 16, following new sections of the Bulkley River, it was much of the same beauty as yesterday.

The gorge at Moricetown introduces a venturi effect to the river’s flow.

Hagwilget was the home of “the quiet people”, a village of the Carrier Indians.  Their cedar-rope lashed poles provided supporting timbers for their bridge across this span displaying some phenomenal primitive engineering.  It was so well built that when telegraph crews arrived in later years they only felt the need to reinforce the existing structure with wire.  Today this gorge is spanned by the bridge pictured below.

Hazelton BC was founded in 1866.  It’s the oldest surviving pioneer community in northwest BC.  Sited on the Skeena River, it was the area’s commercial hub for many years.  Through 1913 it was the upriver terminus for sternwheeler riverboats that plied the rapids of the Skeena.  Looking at this section of river, I would have not thought a sternwheeler to be the best choice of boats, but the mines, farms and settlements of those days, dictated otherwise.

The next intersection sent me north onto Highway 37 for about another 90 minutes.

Reaching its junction with Highway 37A and heading due west toward Alaska, the beauty factor increased tenfold, as did the mosquito factor.  This is where bear country unveiled itself with the Bear River, the Bear Glacier and yes…even a few bears.  I’m convinced that they can detect the scent of a GoPro camera.  Turn it off and the bears appear.  Turn it on and there are no bears to be found.  I did sneak up on a few black bears, with hope for a grizzly tomorrow.  Their prized quarry of salmon, hasn’t yet reached this far upstream to spawn, but there is still the possibility of a sighting.

Stewart BC followed shortly thereafter.

 

With a quick check-in at the hotel, I was back on the bike and off to Hyder Alaska, 2 whole miles away.

 

To not be misleading about this “Alaska” business, we are NOT talking Anchorage, Nome, Deadhorse or Fairbanks here, just little old isolated Hyder.  Yes, it is truly Alaska, but just a molecule of the overall state, situated at the north end of the Portland Canal.  The only way in or out is through the same customs station in Canada.  It’s an anomaly within US boundaries.  Once you’re in, you can only go about 30 miles, actually crossing back into BC, until the maintained road terminates near the summit viewpoint of the Salmon Glacier.  Canadian money is used as easily as the US dollar.  The RCMP provides their civic protection and fire crews from both countries respond, as needed, to either side of the border.

Travelling a short distance beyond Hyder put me at Fish Creek.  It’s a wildlife viewing area with raised platforms and walkways to keep the animals safe from the spectators.  It’s a good example of succession in that, as the Salmon Glacier retreated, this bared land began to host lichen, then fireweed, then alder, followed by spruce and now hemlock.  It’s part of the Tongass, America’s largest national forest and the largest protected temperate rainforest in the world.  16 feet of annual rainfall occur here.

It was there that I met Gary, travelling from New Zealand with 2 buddies on motorcycles.  He bought an Indian Chieftain in Texas and has covered much of the continental US, Alaska and Canada.  I noticed that his windshield bore a sticker to constantly remind him to “Keep Right” on these highways.  I suppose I’ll need a “Keep Left” version if I ever ride “down under”.

Crossing the border into Hyder AK was no sweat and I actually had to look twice to realize that I had done so.  Crossing back out of Hyder, at the very same spot, to reach my hotel in Stewart BC…well, that was a bigger deal.  Had they not just seen me and maybe 3 other parties cross within the last 2 hours.  How could they have forgotten so quickly?  Where else did they think that I went in that box-canyon type of town?  But, it was simpler to just answer their questions. Nope…no weapons, drugs, plants, soil, tobacco, alcohol or fireworks.  Yes, I live right where my passport says I live.  Yes, I crossed into Canada on the very same entry date that is stamped in my passport.  Yes, I’ll gladly remove my helmet just in case you didn’t memorize my outfit on the way in…and so on.  I suppose that it gets lonely in this remote outpost and with Sarah being able to see Putin’s front porch from her front porch and all, one can’t be too careful.

Tomorrow will bring another day in Stewart BC and Hyder AK, with hope to ride near the top of the Salmon Glacier.