Alaskan adventure an icebound trek
Spring had to wait for two northeastern Washington men who spent 32 days in March and early April snowmobiling from Anchorage to Nome and along the icebound arctic coast to the northernmost point in Alaska.
“We started getting a lot more daylight by the end of the trip, but it was still cold, and farther north the snow is influenced by wind and harder than a brickbat,” said Bob Jones of Kettle Falls, recounting the 1,957-mile trip. “It’s white everywhere this time of year, but you can’t hardly shovel snow. You’d need a pick.”
Jones, 66, started the tour on March 5 for his eighth trip to snowmobile the Iditarod Trail during the famous annual sled dog race from Anchorage to Nome. He was joined by Jim Knight, 62, of Deer Park, who was following the 1,049-mile Iditarod route with Jones for the fifth time.
But this year, the two adventurers pushed on from Nome for another 13 days and 900 miles to Barrow through a white wilderness where outside snowmobilers rarely venture.
“It’s pretty lonesome up there,” Jones said. “We saw only seven people on the route outside the villages, and two of them were young guys out of Point Hope hunting wolverines.
“We’d stopped in Point Hope and five people asked for autographs, including a whaling captain. Another couple asked us to take a note to a lady named Ruby in Point Lay. We didn’t waste any time stopping for a beer. Everything was dry after we left Nome.”
Even though the temperatures dropped to 30 below zero along the first leg of the trip from Anchorage to Nome, the trip was free of epic survival adventures.
“We’ve ridden that route enough times to know what to do and how to avoid tipping over our sleds,” Jones said. “I think I actually gained weight this time. I have pictures of my hands after the earlier trips and they’re all dry and scabbed from getting stuck and repairs. This time they were kind of pink, like I’d been washing dishes the whole time.
“The big factor is that snowmobiles are so much better these days. They ride better and you don’t hardly have problems with them.”
Nevertheless, it was the trip of a lifetime, he said. Here’s a sampling of his observations:
Icebound: People on the arctic coast rarely travel on the ground between villages during winter. “When they need to go, they fly,” he said.
Storm-bound: “Bears had torn apart every remote cabin we passed for 300 miles, reminding me of the big high school parties we used to have in Kettle Falls 30 years ago. But one the day we were trying to get to Point Lay, we were still 20-30 miles away at 9 p.m. and we came to this cabin that was in good shape. It had a wood stove, plywood bunks and a sign that said, ‘Welcome.’
“So we settled in for the night and it was a good thing we didn’t camp out. The temperature dropped to 24 below that night and we could hear the wind pick up. The next morning we were in a storm that was downright scary. We learned later that the winds were 70 knots. We stayed in the cabin three days until it cleared up.”
Perspective on explorers: “I have friends who are big fans of Lewis and Clark, but hook up a dog sled on the arctic coast in winter and you’ll know the real meaning of “undaunted courage.”
Deceitful distance: “Beyond Point Lisburne, the landscape gets flatter. At night, with the North Star directly overhead, I could see the lights from a village that looked like it was a block away. The next day I clocked it at 23 miles.
Really big game: Of the eight winter trips through Alaska, this was Jones’ most wildlife-rich experience.
“We saw a moose, a grizzly coming out of hibernation, polar bear tracks out of Point Hope, a herd of 16 musk oxen, and lots and lots of caribou. While we were on the arctic coast, we never stopped without caribou in sight.
Tourist trap: Barrow is not exactly a hot spot during winter. “There’s 4,000 people in Barrow and I don’t think they produce anything,” Jones said. “There’s a very nice Eskimo museum, two restaurants and two hotels.”
Happy returns: The airlines offer a special cargo haul-back rate from Point Barrow, since almost everything flies into the remote village but almost no cargo flies out.
“They flew our two 1,000-pound snowmobiles and our tow sled back to Anchorage for a total of $652,” Jones said. “I told Jim I should crate him up and send him home cargo to save a lot of money.”
From Anchorage, the snowmobiles are being barged back to Seattle.
Highest rating: “On a scale from 1 to 10 this trip has got be a 10,” Jones said. “Riding the Iditarod eight times, you basically know every place you got stuck in the past and what’s around every corner. But once we got past Kotzebue and turned left, we were in a land we’d never experienced before. We were on the coast, through the sea ice, and we didn’t have a clue what was coming next. What a great feeling.”