Snow dominates in Bettles

Snow. Snow. And more snow. Over 100 inches of snow fell in Bettles over the winter and has settled into about four feet of snow. All buildings are capped in several feet of snow while yards look amazingly clean with everything buried under the snow. The snow is hiding all the low brush so only the spruce, birch, aspen and willow are poking out.

Snow-covered pick-up trucks and van

Tracks of ptarmigan, snowshoe hares, red squirrels and possibly lynx and marten are found all around. Flocks of twenty ptarmigan create mazes of tracks as they feed on the willow and birch buds.

After shoveling the roof

The sun’s higher angle in the sky and longer presence is beginning to melt the snow little by little. Icicles are beginning to form on eaves and patches of gravel are beginning to appear on the roads. Despite highs in the twenties, there is considerable warmth in the afternoon sun when standing outside—as long as there isn’t any wind.

One of the two massive snow piles at the airport

The arrival of snow buntings means that spring is on its way since they migrate north to breed. They join the resident redpolls, pine grosbeaks, gray jays, ptarmigan and ruffed grouse that have survived another winter in the arctic.

Old Bettles Ski

Located downriver about six miles from Bettles is Old Bettles—orginally called Bettles until the new Bettles was built and after that it was referred to as Old Bettles. We decided to ski down there on the winter trail instead of the river. A well-established mushing trail made for fast skiing on the 11.5-mile round trip.

On the mushing trail to Old Bettles

The trail starts on the west side of the gravel pit next to the runway. The trail drops off a small ridge (15 to 20 feet) into the lowland of spruce. Spruce dominates the country that is pocketed with patches of aspen and willow. The trail is practically impassable in the summer because of the muskeg and stretches of stagnant water.

Crossing the snow-blown Koyukuk River was the last step to reaching Old Bettles, which itself was buried in several feet of snow. The mushing trail created a hard trail to cross the river on; otherwise it would have been a deep slog through the snow.

Crossing the Koyukuk River

Several buildings are still standing in Old Bettles, including the general store. The last person moved from Old Bettles back in the 1980’s if I remember correctly. Old Bettles was a native settlement that marked the point on the river where steamboats could go no further. The town was a major supply point for miners working on the John and Koyukuk Rivers upstream.

What once was the Bettles Store

Now, the abandoned town serves as a recognizable pick-up point for boaters coming off the John River, which joins the Koyukuk River just north of Old Bettles.

One of the Old Bettles cabins

Old Bettles is also a source of confusion. On topographic maps, it is still labeled as Bettles while the current location of Bettles is only marked as Evansville (which is the native village on the north end of Bettles). Therefore, some boaters float past Evansville thinking that Bettles is downriver and continue on to Old Bettles (labeled Bettles on their map) and realize their mistake when they arrive at the abandoned town. 

Another cabin half buried in the snow

Driving into Bettles

After loading all the boxes of goods that couldn’t freeze into the backseats of our trucks we (consisting of Ryan, Eric, Fawn and I) departed North Pole and headed north to Bettles. We stopped at Hilltop truck stop north of Fox for a hearty breakfast and to top of the gas tanks and gas jugs (the one gas station between here and Bettles is closed in the winter).

We followed the Elliot Highway until it turned towards Manley Hot Springs and the Dalton Highway branched to the north. The first section of the Dalton Highway (also known as the Haul Road) was rough gravel but after 20 miles it turned into a decent paved highway. 

Dalton Highway

The oil pipeline parallels the highway for most of the duration

On the last ridge before the Yukon River the trees were caked in windblown snow. The ‘snow ghosts’ decreased as we descended down to the Yukon River Bridge. Two-and-a-half hours after breakfast at Hilltop truck stop we arrived at the rest area on the north side of the bridge. 

Snow Ghosts

Yukon River Bridge

Near Finger Rock Mountain we encountered blowing snow which turned into small ground blizzards at points. One such place was Beaver Slide, an extremely steep hill that, thankfully, is straight. In addition to the blowing snow, the road was covered in a thin layer of ice, forcing us to slide down the Beaver Slide in an almost out-of-control state.

Small ground blizzard going down Beaver Slide

We stopped at the Arctic Circle rest area to take pictures of the sign and stretch our legs. After a total of 4.5 hours we reached the turn off for the Bettles winter road.

On the Arctic Circle

The Bettles winter road is only open for a month or two in late winter/early spring. A right-of-way is permanently cleared through the trees from the Haul Road to Bettles. Then late in the winter a dozer and grader clear the snow from the right-of-way, fill in the dips and creeks crossing,  and leave huge snow berms on the sides. The frozen ground covered in packed snow makes a decent roadbed.

Bettles Winter Road

Right away we crossed the Jim River—my first river crossing in the truck. No bridges, just a plowed swath across the ice. Then there was a narrow, rough stretch where we hoped we wouldn’t meet any semi-trucks, if we did we would have to back-up quite a ways.

The worst portion of the road came at Gordon’s Gulch—massive overflow. We started on the ice and started punching through. Then the road split and we had to decide to take the high or low route on the overflow. We opted for the high route even though it was sloped with a build-up of overflow since the low route looked steep. After chaining up both trucks, we crept forward while punching through the ice in spots—rough but no problem with chains.

Gordon's Gulch full of overflow

Driving over the overflow and punching through

The chains stayed on until the top of Jim River Hill and weren’t needed again. The notorious overflow at certain creeks was non-existent this year, making for a smooth ride (at 30 mph). The last major river we crossed was the South Fork of the Koyukuk which had a cardboard sign on the bank stating to not stop on the river—no problem.

As we neared Bettles, we encountered the burn from the 2004 fires. In spots, the fire burnt the trees on one side of the road and not on the other. The right-of-way acted as a fire break. We had good views of the Jack White Mountains from here on into Bettles.

The extent of snow pack was evident from the beginning of the winter road but in some areas of the burn, I could barely see over the snow berm. The snow on the other side wasn’t much lower than the top of the berm in places—four to five feet deep!

Crossing the South Fork of the Koyukuk River

Finally, I had been on the winter road to Bettles, just like most things in Bettles. The winter road is the main way to bring in building supplies, trucks, fuel, fuel tanks and goods to Bettles without paying air freight. Among the goods we brought in were a range for our house, insulation for the house floor, a shower pan, bikes, skis, potting soil and lots of food—six months worth of dried goods and frozen food. That included over 80 pounds of flour, over 60 pounds of meat, 25 pounds of sugar, 10 pounds of oatmeal, over 30 cans of fruit, 10 pounds of onions and five dozen eggs.  On top of that was 170 pounds of dog food for Nelson.

The work began as we pulled up to the little brown house surrounded by four feet of snow out to the road. A big thanks to Eric and Fawn for helping shovel a path and hauling in boxes. 

Little Brown House

Confined to the pathway

The Science Behind the Northern Lights

A faint glow illuminated the northern sky as we packed the truck in the dark to get an early start out of Haines Junction, Yukon. At first I thought it was the glow from street lamps or maybe the start of morning twilight but then a shaft a light reached high into the sky—northern lights. We hustled out of town to a pull-out and confirmed our guess. Though faint, the glow slowly moved and an occasional ray poked high into the sky.

Northern Lights over North Pole, Alaska

These northern lights (also called aurora) could’ve been easily confused with dawn which did gradually encroach on the light display. Because of this similarity, northern lights are also called “Northern Dawn” or “False Dawn”. The Latin meaning of aurora borealis is “Northern Dawn”.

                

The aurora can light up the sky like dawn but when active the swirling, rippling and overhead displays cannot be mistaken for anything else. Legends and folk tales provide many reasons for the aurora, including ancestors dancing in the sky, but scientists know that solar particles and gas molecules create the aurora.

                 

The northern lights are similar to neon lights which glow when energy (in the form of electricity) is added to tubes of gas. With the northern lights, the energy comes from the sun and the atmosphere is the tube of gas.  The sun emits energized particles that are carried toward earth on the solar wind. The earth’s magnetosphere (a protective shield created by the Earth’s magnetic field) prevents the majority of particles from bombarding earth but a small portion penetrates the barrier.

                 

A recent increase in solar activity produced a spectacular display over North Pole, AK.

These energized particles collide with gas molecules in the atmosphere and transfer their energy, much like cue balls. But instead of using the energy to move across a pool table, the gas molecules emit a flash of light, which is the light we see. We cannot see just one flash; we only see the aurora when there are millions of flashes.

                 

The light can be green, red and even blue or purple—the color depends on the gas molecule. Oxygen molecules emit green and red light, nitrogen emits violet and blue light, and hydrogen emits red light. Often seen before dawn, blue and purple aurora is caused by sunlight striking the top of extremely high rays in the atmosphere. When the aurora is weak it often appears colorless because there isn’t enough color for our eyes to detect.

                 

The aurora can extend over a hundred miles into the atmosphere and even though it may seem to touch the horizon the lowest aurora is 40 miles above Earth’s surface. Sometimes the rays can be straight overhead or a bright band in the northern sky. Displays higher in the sky are more common at higher latitudes while mid-latitudes typically see aurora on the horizon. However, when solar activity is high, the northern lights can be seen further south, higher in the sky, and often red (which is less common). 

A hint of red fringes green arcs of aurora.

The northern lights have been extremely active this spring and are predicted to be more active through 2013 because the solar cycle is at its maximum point. The 11-year solar cycle corresponds to the wax and wane of sunspots, with the maximum occurring during times of increased sunspot activity and the minimum occurring during minimal sunspot activity. More sunspots equates to an increased flow of energized particles carried towards earth on the solar wind.

                 

The few hours around midnight are the best time to observe northern lights but they can be seen anytime during the night if they are extremely active. For an auroral forecast, check the University of Alaska Fairbanks Geophysical Institute’s website at http://www.gi.alaska.edu/AuroraForecast (there is even an app).

                 

When the northern lights are swirling across the sky, I find it easy to forget about the energized particles and gas molecules creating the light and simply enjoy the show. 

Note: Published in the Bonners Ferry Herald on March 29, 2012. 

The Alaska Highway

Fairbanks 1000 km. Six hundred miles I estimate. There aren’t many road signs in the Lower 48 stating mileage to the next town 600 miles away but on the Alaska Highway it is normal (along with kilometers). As the only all-land route to Alaska, the 1400-mile highway traverses remote country where towns and gas stations are far apart.  

                 

Starting in Dawson Creek, British Columbia, the highway crosses northern British Columbia and then the southern portion of the Yukon Territory until it crosses into Alaska and ends at Delta Junction where it connects to the Richardson Highway leading to Fairbanks.

The beginning of the Alaska Highway in Dawson Creek, British Columbia

The highway doesn’t take the most direct route but under the circumstances it was built it is an amazing accomplishment. There were no blueprints or maps for the Alaska Highway like there are today. Instructions were to build a road from Dawson Creek to Delta Junction as fast as possible. The United States needed a road to Alaska to expand military defense after the attack on Pearl Harbor.

               

A road to Alaska wasn’t a new idea; it had been talked about for years between Canada and the United States. There was even a committee formed to oversee it but there wasn’t any urgency to build a road until December 7, 1941. On that day the idea catapulted into reality and the road was completed in record time. By February 2, 1942 the route was decided and on February 14 a work order was issued for construction to begin. On March 2 (less than three months after the attack on Pearl Harbor), American troops arrived in Dawson Creek to begin work. In eight months and 12 days, over 15,000 men constructed the 1422-mile Alaska Highway—less than one year after Pearl Harbor was attacked.

                 

The Sign Post Forest in Watson Lake, Yukon began in 1942 when a homesick solider posted a sign with the mileage to his hometown. Now there are over 14,000 signs from around the world.

Parts of the highway followed wagon roads, Gold Rush trails and local trails, but the majority of the road was forged through the wilderness as it was built—often by the surveyors climbing trees to look for the best route since there were few reliable maps available. The only requirement was to connect the towns containing airfields, which included Fort Nelson, Watson Lake and Whitehorse. These towns contained air bases on the Northwest Staging Route, which facilitated movement of military supplies to Alaska and aircraft on lend-lease from the United States to the Soviet Union. The air bases became major supply points for road-building material and food and supplies for the troops.

                  

By no means was the new highway a paved road or even a decent gravel road. The road was a single-lane swath bulldozed through the trees in some areas and a corduroy of logs (logs laid parallel to each other to form a hard surface like a bridge) over swampy areas. Bridges (133 total) were built across most of the rivers but the larger rivers initially required ferries. The troops battled muskeg and permafrost that became quagmires of mud that could swallow bulldozers in the summer. They also endured mosquitoes, gnats and temperatures so cold that antifreeze froze.

                

The end of the Alaska Highway in Delta Junction, Alaska

Improvements started the moment the road was open to military traffic in 1942 and continued after it was opened to civilian traffic in 1949 because of its primitive state. Sections were straightened and widened, steep grades lessened, gravel laid down and eventually all of it was paved.

             

Even with all the improvements there is still adventure in driving the only all-land route to Alaska across some lonely stretches of country. Part of the appeal is the remoteness with the sparsely located towns, the range of scenery, and seeing a sign for the next town 600 miles away. 

Note: Published in the Bonners Ferry Herald on March 22, 2012.