Best Chicken Dinner Ever

With apologies to Colonel Sanders of KFC fame the best chicken I ever saw was the town of that name up the Klondike loop out of Tetlin Jct. near Tok, Alaska. Chicken, AK is not so much a town as an excuse for a break in the wilderness before getting to Dawson City via the Top of the World Highway. The distance to Dawson City is only about 160 miles but it's the road conditions that determine the time it takes to get somewhere and word is to allow about 7 hours to make the journey.

Chicken boasts a summer population of maybe 25 and a winter count of 3 to 5 who make it through the long nights and cold temps when the road closes in the fall. Ski equipped planes can reach them bringing in the U.S. mail and other supplies two days a week but other than that they are on their own to enjoy the Aurora  Borealis all by themselves. The town's name came about because the early gold miners couldn't spell the original name of Ptarmigan. Ptarmigan are also referred to up here as chicken, thus the name. The Willow Ptarmigan is officially the Alaska State Bird and apparently filled many a hungry miner's cook pot.

Yes, that is a Moose strolling by... good moose.

We stayed at the Chicken Gold Camp which is a bustling place during the short summer season. It can host 30-50 RV'S as well as accommodating tenters. There are also nice looking rustic cabins available for the cream puffs out there. The clerk at the counter was from Kentucky, and the owner spends his winters in the wilds of Tuscon, AZ.

There is still active gold mining going on and some cater to the discriminating tourist who wants to spend the day recreating the life of a '49er during the gold rush. We chatted with some folks who actually came out with some impressive vials of gold and unlike our gold panning in Fairbanks the gold was truly earned the hard way by washing down a slope with high pressure water, shoveling the rocks into rockers, and then panning for the elusive flakes and nuggets.

The road out of Chicken to Dawson is pretty challenging according to those coming in that way so the plan is to leave early and take it slow.

The inevitable gift shops have all sorts of items playing on the town's name. There are shirts with chick's breaking out of shells proclaiming "I got laid in Chicken, AK" as well as 'University of

Chicken' sweatshirts proclaiming a "Grade A education with the team nickname - the Packers- emblazoned on the back. You get the idea...

One of the ladies we met, Cheryl, was from Pennsylvania. She was in Chicken for the day having driven up from Tok where she had moved, bought land, built a house, and was now living, as so many are up here, off the grid. Her husband, more a fan of creature comforts, had elected to stay put back in PA which seemed OK with Cheryl.

Several blogs ago I had mentioned meeting Greg and Pablo the dog who were hoofing and pawing it from Prudhoe Bay to Austin, Texas. When we took the turn to Chicken off the Alaska Highway there they were still plodding their way south and east. Actually Pablo, perhaps the smarter of the two, was still contentedly riding in style in the trailer although I suspect he does periodically get out for a potty or num num break...

The Alaska Highway?

I know that it was America that built the Alaska Highway during WW2 due to the Japanese threat of attacking and invading through the Aleutian Islands and Alaska. And Lord knows hundreds if not thousands of Americans just like me make the trek along its length on our way to the 49th state. However, the title "Alaska Highway" is something of a misnomer. Perhaps it's obvious to you, but it wasn't to me, that 3/4's of the Alaska Highway is actually in Canada. Only a couple of hundred miles from the border to Delta Junction are in Alaska. So folks taking a vacation driving to Alaska are actually taking a Canadian trip. The only reason I'm pointing any of this out is to acknowledge how beautiful this part of Canada is and how worth the time it is to take your time driving to Alaska and really enjoying the Canadian part rather than rushing through it. Just sayin', eh?

Anachronisms

There are several military bases in Alaska. In a hundred mile radius of Fairbanks it's not unusual to hear the roar of a fighter jet flying overhead. Driving east out of Fairbanks you pass

Eielson air force base and there are rows of fighters visible from the highway. The military might is impressive and harkens back to the cold war days when Russia posed the major threat to the U.S. Certainly Mr. Putin  seems willing to flex his country's  muscle but an attack on America over the pole seems a long shot.

Internet access and cellular coverage is spotty in Alaska to say the least (thus the delay in getting some of these posts up) and all we've heard in the last ten weeks have been snippets of news stories from the lower 48. It seems the violence has ramped up considerably not just in the U.S.  but overseas as well. No country appears to be immune. Still, as we drove by those multi-million dollar aircraft sitting on the tarmac I had to wonder how effective they would be in dealing with the terrorist acts that seem to be today's norm. They seem anachronistic in the modern world of IED'S and suicide attacks. Military hardware, however impressive and awe inspiring seem impotent given the current challenges. Still, military spending drives a chunk of the Alaska economy and with oil prices depressed I'm sure Alaskans would be loathe to see those dollars disappear.

On the drive from Denali to Fairbanks one passes a turn to the left. There is a standard green street sign indicating you are at Stampede Road. I'm sure 99.9% of folks never even see the sign and even if they did they'd probably have no idea of its significance. If you've  ever read the Jon Krakauer book "Into the Wild" or seen the movie you might recollect that it's the story of a young man, Chris McCandless, who in trying to find himself died 25 miles or so back on this road on what's known as the Stampede Trail. In 1992 he had hiked in, set up camp in an abandoned school bus (given the difficulty of the terrain how it got there I can't even imagine) and was trying to experience his ideal of living off the land, off the grid. He didn't make it much more than one hundred days. To this day Alaskans don't seem to have adopted Chris as one of their own. Perhaps he was too extreme, too much on the edge, even for people who have to balance on the edge all the time to survive  up here. It's a fight to live up here and Alaska is unforgiving; unlike the fighter jets that practice at war many Alaskans depend on their own wits and skills to survive from day to day, season to season. Perhaps Alaska is itself an anachronism in that regard- it clearly doesn't reflect the reality of daily life for most of us. Maybe that's the attraction, what keeps a steady stream of folks heading north, looking for their own ideal of life in the great north. They may not be as out there as Chris was, but their certainly distant cousins. Sophie and I did share a quiet moment in contemplation of a young man's life cut short too soon. It seemed the least we could do.

Is IQ a Matter of Degree?

The university of Alaska at Fairbanks has a beautiful campus and hosts a wonderful museum  aptly named the Museum of the North.

Before you conjur up images of your typical museum, think again. This place is a must see. It's more visitor and information center and the native artwork on exhibit is amazing. Hey, they need something to do to while away those long winter nights when they're not craning their necks at the Aurora Borealis.

Students are the U of A at Fairbanks are known to boast how cold it gets by posing in their skimpies in front of the time and temperature sign. There are some very smart people at the University, some of them students, but I'm not so sure how smart it is to wander out in 50 below weather in my undies. So no need to worry about that picture from me. So if intelligence is a matter of degree (71 of them to be precise) I'm feeling pretty high on the mensa scale, albeit not as brave as the U of A students, by sharing what I think is the more appropriate image.

Fairbanks Times Two

The first time we were in Fairbanks we stayed at the Chena River campground off of Airport Road. We should have known by the street name that there might be an airport nearby and sure enough we had been treated to a bird's eye view of the sights and more importantly the sounds of airplanes and helicopters landing and taking off. As wonderful as that experience was we were not anxious to repeat it (you know, been there, done that) so on this jaunt through town we went looking for a nicer (quieter) place to lay our heads. Heading east out of town one quickly reaches the North Pole. Seriously, there is a town

called North Pole and as you might imagine the theme is very much Christmas. The town boasts a remarkable gift shop (only 180 days 'til Christmas!). The Milepost, that bastion of guidance to northland travelers hinted at a campground ahead called the Chena River State

Recreation Area.  Compared to the campground in town this place was Shangri-la. It's on a beautiful Lake with swim beaches, non-motorized boating (great kayaking/canoeing), wonderful single and double track bike trails, and pristine campgrounds. This is actually

where my wife Sophie tried out her mosquito net enclosure for the first time. Like in so many  other of these Alaska state campgrounds not many out of state plates but it was clear that this was the hidden gem locals flock to in the summer. So if your looking for a great place just outside of Fairbanks  to spend a couple of fun days swimming, boating, biking and camping this is a place we'd highly recommend!

Sophie's Best Souvenir of All

Mosquitos in Alaska are problematic; they have to be acknowledged  and dealt with. When we first came up we had a couple of cans of bug spray but quickly realized we were under armed  and out gunned. So we stopped and got some heavy weapons - citronella candles (55 gallon drum size), bug nets (full body - "Alaskan camo"), and heavy duty Deet repellant (Alaskan gain in the economical 55 gallon convenience barrels). Still not enough... so what to do? I'm not a hunter but was contemplating getting a mosquito hunting license which only seemed fair as they - the Mosquitos- clearly had their human hunting permits with no bag limit.

As is often the case, my lovely wife Sophie  had other ideas. So armed only with credit card she troops off to a Fred Myers (much like a Walmart  except it's not),  heads for the Outdoor Living Center and scores what will likely be our most treasured souvenir of the trip. A screen enclosure, 11ft. X 11ft. of enclosed bliss. Big enough to cover a picnic table, two huskies, and

two very itchy human occupants.

Of course there was "some assembly required" but I let Sophie have the full pleasure of erecting her new purchase. Heck, it was up in no time and it's amazing how fast an hour can go by while watching your not mechanically  inclined spouse assemble something one handed while swatting the very same mosquitos she was attempting to defend herself from.

Once up I was more than happy to join her in her new abode. Short of a real cabin or igloo it did the trick of keeping the Mosquitos out and us in. A purchase any woman would be proud of. For me, I still regret not getting the hunting permits. I already had a special  place on the wall to mount that mosquito I was going to bag...

Roadside Sign Primer

In the lower 48 road signs mean one thing while in Alaska they often mean something completely different. So to enlighten all you southerners here is a quick primer on what Alaskan road signs really mean.

One of the first signs that might have you scratching your head is the triple hump. When you see one of these your blood runs cold as you quickly learn this is the warning of a rough road with bumps fast approaching. The trick to negotiating these rough road sections is knowing how fast, or slow for the feint of heart, you need to go. Some of the bumps are quite daunting - we've seen 40ft. RV'S  high centered on the middle hump due to a speed miscalculation. Alaskans seem to prefer the ballistic missile approach thinking that the first hump is really a launch ramp that will send them flying smoothly over hump number two before landing quite nicely, thank you, on the back side of hump three. Only problem is that many times there is, though not pictured, a hump number four and sometimes six, seven, and eight. Alaskan vehicles are not new for very long.

Next up is a sign you might misconstrued to warn of an upcoming downhill section. Hah! It really means there is a monster pothole ahead capable of swallowing full size trucks. There often filled with water so you can't really see how deep they are. If they'd only put in diving boards there's some Olympic swimming records waiting to be broken. Motorists beware: fear ye all who enter these.

This one is obviously a warning to cyclists. Where you live you may have a similar sign meaning you are about to cross a railroad. Not in Alaska. Here they denote you are about to climb a hill or pass so steep you're going to need a ladder to get your sorry assistance up it.

Next up we have the fast food sign for bears sign. Bruins aren't the most adept readers but when they come across these signs they really start salivating as they know there's going to be lots of tasty meals ready to eat just up ahead.

Finally, we have the Dog Team Crossing sign. Yes I know you can read but this one's probably not too common in your neck of the woods. Most places have all sorts of sports teams - football, softball, basketball, hockey - the list is endless. So it's good in Alaska that they celebrate their teams as well. I've already blogged on why Alaska doesn't have an NFL  team but they make up for it by more than a four to two paw ratio. Gotta  love those canine athletes. Speaking of which, when we swung through Wasilla which is home to the Iditarod  headquarters we met and chatted with Mark Nordman, the race director and former musher, who was nice enough to take a picture with one of this year's real race sleds that had broken a runner during the race. These broken sleds are valuable, $4,000 or more, so when they break down they get flown back, at musher's expense, and reunited with their owners. The canine athletes? They had already caught the red eye out of Nome  in March.

So there you have the basics of Alaskan road signs. Safe travels and if you happen to drive into one of those notorious potholes your car's seat cushion may be used as an emergency flotation device.