The year was 1968. My husband and I had just spoken our marital vows in Fairbanks, Alaska where we both lived and worked. For our honeymoon, we were going to drive to Missouri, where I was from, to introduce my new husband to family and friends. Our vehicle was a yellow 1965 Corvette.
We didn’t know what to expect for restaurants or grocery stores along the Alcan so we purchased various food items for the trip: bread and peanut butter (my favorite), Vienna sausage, Spam, Nalley’s Potato Chips, and Coke (his favorites), plus a few other snacks.
Approaching the Alaska/Canadian border, we pulled off the road to enjoy a spectacular view of the Chisana River fronting distant mountains and valleys. I had never viewed such scenery before and the memory is still vivid in my mind 40 years later.
Leaving Alaska, we immediately traded asphalt for the dusty, washboard, gravel road in Canada for approximately the next 1200 miles. Headlights were supposed to be on at all times due to dusty road conditions. About 100 miles inside Yukon, Canada, we pulled into an old abandoned gas station. Rough road had caused the muffler to loosen. In order to wire it back up, my husband needed to get underneath the car. However, three inches of ground clearance was not enough. Spying an old railroad tie and some scrap lumber to be used as ramps, my husband managed to back the rear wheels up onto the tie. He crawled underneath, did his magic, and we were on our way.
Early the next morning we were moving toward Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. I should mention that watering the road was normal and necessary in order to keep the dust down. When stopping to fill the gas tank, it became routine for my husband to pump the gas while I cleaned all the windows as they were always dirty, either from dust or mud. Traversing toward Whitehorse, we came upon a vehicle traveling at a slower pace. The road desperately needed watering as the dust was terrible. In fact, we could see this vehicle’s cloud of grime long before we came upon it. He apparently didn’t want to be passed as he would speed up each time we pulled out to pass. This cat and mouse game went on for several miles. But persistence prevailed. When we finally got out of his dirt bubble, our speedometer indicated 100 mph! Dust permeated the inside of the car with a thick layer on everything.
We were approaching the Muncho Lake area on our third day of traveling. Navigating a mountainous road, my husband applied the brake only to find it was all the way to the floor and the car wasn’t slowing down. Being a quick thinker, he downshifted and used the parking brake to get our momentum slowed. Fortunately, there was a place to pull off nearby. A fitting was loose causing brake fluid to escape. For some reason he had extra can of the stuff in the car. We were soon on our way with working brakes.
The following day saw us in Dawson Creek and paved roads! Upon our arrival we discovered an A&W Drive-In. We were so hungry for American Food - Fast Food - anything other than Alcan food. Hamburgers, French fries, and Root Beer tasted so-o good. After filling our stomachs, it was time to fill up the gas tank and wash the car. More than an inch of frozen mud was caked on the outside and the fender wells were filled with it. There was so much mud that the tires were rubbing on the frozen muck whenever the wheels turned. Twenty-five minutes in the carwash using a high pressure wand, and our Corvette was sparkling yellow once again. Needless to say there was plenty of mud on the floor of that carwash when we left!
The rest of the trip through Canada and the United States was uneventful. I always liked to think it was because we were traveling on asphalt.
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