DAY 2 (17 JUNE): FRANKLIN, NC (1A5) TO MINNEAPOLIS, MN (KFCM)

1A5 - KEKX - KRPJ - KFCM

[I’m finally submitting this about two weeks after our trip. The adventure of the flight was definitely a highlight, but the challenge of settling into our new place quickly after our arrival has overwhelmed the majority of our move. I hope to finish submitting this trip log in the next day or two.]

I know that I haven't checked in for several days, but we've been a little busy. I'm writing this from our Days Inn room in Dawson Creek, British Columbia. That's Canada, Don't ya know. [Note: I’m not submitting this until Thursday the 27th. We were just too busy with the flight and settling into our new home to make any headway. Additionally, we just had internet installed today. There is only so long you can sit in a McDonalds sucking the Wifi out of them.]

After having breakfast with my cousin Rick, who I haven't seen in many years, we loaded and prepared to depart Franklin, NC for someplace in Kentucky. I honestly forget the name of the airport or city that we planned to use for our first stop. The weather was less than ideal with ceiling and rain issues in the mountains north and west of Franklin. I filed IFR and we were all ready to climb through the clouds to beautiful blue skies. Only, Flight service couldn't issue an IFR clearance over the phone because of some incoming traffic. They said it would be 20-minutes. Jeez! No worries, we had the ceilings to work our way through the river valleys northwestbound and get my instrument clearance from Knoxville Approach south of their class B airspace. This first section of the leg became an exercise in evaluating the ceiling and visibility around each corner compared to our ability to turn around. After some difficulties getting the right frequency for Knoxville, we climbed up to the blue skies on top of a broken to overcast layer and enjoyed a smooth and uneventful IFR flight.

Whatever our original destination was (ends up it was Stuart Powell Field in Danville, KY), it had a storm cell right over top of it. This necessitated a diversion to somewhere less hostile. Addington Field (KEKX) fit the bill nicely. We topped off the tanks and everyone stretched their legs. The nice lady working the counter was generous enough to give Brayden a small model airplane kit. Super stop and I would recommend them to anyone.

I originally planned our next stop for somewhere just North of Chicago in Wisconsin. From Addington, I amended our plan with a stop at Rochelle Municipal Airport (KRPJ) in Rochelle, Illinois. This shortened our distance, but increased our fuel costs. I sensed that our first day was a little long for the passengers and I tried my best to shorten it while reaching our daily goal.

There is a big skydiving operation that dominates the field at Rochelle. We even listened to and watched a turbine single drop a load of skydivers while we were on the way into the field. Lucky for us, the skydive folks opened a nice restaurant filling our need for lunch. I've learned that our crew operates better on a full stomach. Rob, from the airport's FBO, met us at the self-serve pumps and gave us all rides down to the restaurant. What a guy. He's a talker, but he is probably more dedicated to promoting his airport than anyone I’ve met. We got a history lesson, update on current happenings, and a detailed schedule of the future goings on that he was sure we would attend. Kudos to him. We all hope he remains successful. Similar to most of the stops on our trip, we recommend this little for a quiet lunch stop. If we had more time, I might have convinced Uncle Norris to get in a jump.

After some burgers and fries, it was time to launch. We planned to make Fargo, ND as our final stop for the day, but that too was abandoned. I attempted to out climb the scattered afternoon buildup without success. At 12,300 feet, I realized that we weren't going to get over them without oxygen, which I don't have. I descended to get under the scattered to broken clouds, but couldn’t find an altitude that didn’t beat us to death. Additionally, I was getting pretty tired. I decided to refrain from wearing out the passengers on the first day, and we diverted for dinner and a hotel. We chose Flying Cloud Airport (KFCM) on the south side of Minneapolis as a sure bet for services and a nearby hotel. The staff at Thunderbird was nice enough to let me do an oil change while my Dad arranged for a hotel and rental car. I’m not sure what the fuel price was, but I’m sure it was high with the great service and multitude of jets at the FBO.

During the day’s legs, Dad and Uncle Norris seemed to really appreciate the nuances of the changing countryside. As we left the Southeast, the built up areas became sparse as the shear vastness of the midwest’s farmland took over. Most of the farms to this point seemed to be family owned spreads with a house, barn, and associated facilities for each field or set of fields. Deeper into Minnesota the family farms yielded to corporate farms on massive expanses of fields with only one house, we presume to be for the main caretaker. Seeing the unending landscape of farmland along our route really put perspective to the magnitude of people in the country that are dependent on environmental factors for their livelihood.

We stayed at the Days Inn, and luckily they had a complementary dinner. I forget the Mexican dish that was served, but I had a couple portions. The crew was tired and ready for bed early. I, however, had to figure out what my password was for EAPIS. I opened the account a couple months ago to make sure I knew how to use it. I’ll be damned if I didn’t completely forget the password. It was easy enough to get it recovered through email. Filling out the EAPIS was simpler than I thought. There was a lot of info to put in, but it was pretty straight forward. The only catch was needing the decal number to complete the airplane information. I called the FBO and groveled to get the nice lady on duty to write it down for me. Note to self: I better record that number in my phone for when I’ll need it in a couple days. Off to bed after a pretty successful couple days.

Brett
http://www.andringatrec.blogspot.com/

DAY 3 (18 JUNE): MINNEAPOLIS, MN (KFCM) TO REGINA, SASKATCHEWAN, CANADA (CYQR)

KFCM – KBAC – S28 - CYQR

We planned to fly from Flying Cloud in Minneapolis to Barnes County Airport, more commonly referred to as Valley City Airport, for cheap fuel. We would then process through customs and have lunch at International Peace Garden right on the border between North Dakota and Saskatchewan. The plan was to end the day with two legs into Edmonton City Centre for the night. Seems simple enough. The weather was predicted to cooperate with a high-pressure system on and to the northeast of our route holding a frontal boundary stationary to the southwest. I had just finished the oil change and the plane was running great. Off we go!

The first snag occurred when the auxiliary fuel pump, which is used to prime the engine before start, failed to come on when I pressed the switch. The switch has normal and emergency sides, and only the normal side was failing. I used the emergency side to prime and attempted a start. When I cranked the Continental IO-550 engine of our Cessna 206, it sounded like a loud lawnmower. Only three cylinders came alive with normal temperatures in the cylinder heads. The exhaust temperatures on the odd number cylinders registered in the 1100-1300 range with low to no cylinder head temperatures. I attempted to lean the fuel mixture and adjust everything in my power to get it running right. Unsuccessful, I shut it down to ensure I wasn’t doing any damage. After a minute or two of thinking, I attempted another start and the engine purred like a kitten. Huh. After a lengthy run-up I was convinced that the problem had something to do with priming using the emergency side of the fuel pump.

We departed Flying Cloud under a 2,000-foot ceiling, which quickly cleared leaving us a beautiful, smooth flight to Barnes County Airport in Valley City, ND. I chose this stop based off their fuel price listed on the map in Foreflight. What a great airport! While I was fueling at the self-serve tanks, Dad and Uncle Norris explored an open hangar nearby with an impressive collection of airplanes and a classic muscle car. Cory and Jarrod Lindemann entertained them with descriptions of the different airplanes in the hangar and their maintenance business specializing in larger restoration projects. There were too many airplane types to remember, but some of the more impressive specimens included a Supercub, aerobatic biplane, two turbine crop dusters, and several aerobatic models in varying degrees of restoration. The collection of airplanes was impressive, but the organization and condition of their hangar was even more impressive. There wasn’t a thing out of place; the floors were polished clean; and every part, fuselage, wing, tail, and canopy were stored meticulously around the hangar.

After fueling, I opened the cowling and inspected the electrical connections to the auxiliary fuel pump microswitch. Sure enough, one of the three wires leading to the microswitch had broken where a mechanic had previously soldered the wire to the switch. I inquired from Cory whether he could get the wire reattached to get us on our way. It took a little work and a little more time than either of us thought, but he was able to get us going again. He removed the microswitch to solder the wire on cleanly, ensuring that the bond didn’t short to the next wire. The longest part of the process was working in the tight space with some special tools to reattach the microswitch. I asked how much the repair would run me, and I honestly don’t think he was going to charge me. It felt like we had completely closed down their shop for a couple hours, as Jarrod chatted with us the entire two and a half hours that Cory was working on the plane. I, of course, compensated them well above what I thought was fair and we said our goodbyes.



I got a weather update from flight service, updated our EAPIS, and updated our arrival time with CANPASS. EAPIS is the web-based system used by the U.S. Customs and Border Patrol to track incoming and outgoing private airplane and boat traffic. I’ve read many complaints about it from other pilots that were experience with international flying before it was implemented. I didn’t find it that difficult, but it would have been nice to be able to just update our departure time with the delay in Valley City. With the new departure time, I was required to submit a completely new manifest, though our crew and passenger information was still in their system from the previous submission. CANPASS is the phone system to alert the Canadian Border Patrol that you are going to need processing at an airport of entry. I initially called them prior to departing Flying Cloud, but had to call them another three times to update our arrival time. What a pleasant and helpful bunch to work with.

The fuel pump worked flawlessly and the engine started perfect. We departed Valley City on the hour flight into International Peace Garden. On the last portion of our flight through North Dakota, it was amazing to see what we presume to be massive and widespread flooding. Roads were under water and fields were completely saturated. Uncle Norris added this to his list of things he wanted to research about the landscape we covered during the trip.

We landed within a minute of our planned arrival time at International Peace Garden. Landing to the west, I taxied across the U.S./Canada border onto the northwest ramp. I call it a ramp, but there is barely enough room for two aircraft to taxi. I parked on the northwest corner so we had a great view of the peace garden down the hill to the west. On the approach, I called customs on the advisory frequency as the Canadian Flight Supplement directs. They didn’t answer. I attempted to phone them after we shut down, and still no answer. I then called CANPASS, who cleared me through customs over the phone. They gave me a clearance number that serves as our record for completing customs. The group was free to explore Canada. We exited the airplane, stretched our legs, and headed down the hill to the peace garden.

You’ll have to look at the map to understand, but the hill running down from the airport’s western side leads to the road below with U.S. and Canadian border stations and the entrance to the peace garden. When I say the border stations, I mean that the path down the hill leads you right along the international border to an area between both countries’ border stations. Not knowing where to go, I walked into the Canadian customs office to ask where the lunch spot was. I hear these Canadians are super nice, eh. The CANPASS system is not linked to the border stations. Four blundering Americans strolling around the demilitarized zone between the countries was not one of the welcomed activities by either border authority. I spent the better part of five minutes explaining to the Canadian authorities how I got there, what I was doing, where I was going, who CANPASS was, and why I thought I could stroll around their engagement area. In the meantime, Dad hit the Canadian duty free store and Uncle Norris loitered around the border station exploring the small bit of Canada available to us. It is a wonder that I’m not writing this from a Canadian prison.

Eventually, I convinced the Canadian border folks that we were simply a rendition of the Three Stooges (plus an innocent seven year old we kidnapped). They directed me to the entrance of the park and bid me farewell. The lunch spot was the snack bar at the peace garden. I’m pretty sure that Brayden had his seventh straight meal of cheeseburger and fries. We walked back through the middle of the garden and admired the effort put into splitting everything right along the border such as a fountain, pillars, parking lots, flower gardens, walkways, and flagpoles. The view of our airplane sitting high on the hill, seemingly looking down on the road and garden is one of my favorite pictures of the trip. The sky couldn’t have been any bluer. It helped that we didn’t get arrested walking back across the road between the border stations.




I had a noteworthy challenge departing International Peace Garden. I had done all my research on how to get weather and file in Canada. When I dialed 866-WX-BRIEF, the call wouldn’t go through. I think I was getting U.S. cell towers still and wasn’t being allowed to call to the Canadian toll free number. The crew was forced to lay out under the wing while I walked back down to the Peace Garden entrance station to call (to the glare of border guards on both sides).

We departed International Peace Garden and flew VFR direct to Regina, Saskatchewan. Uncle Norris and I marveled at the meticulous nature with which the fields were plowed. This was no small feat with a countryside peppered with small ponds and marshes. How does a farmer teach someone to take care of the fields? The process of mentoring your children on how to plow around each lake to maximize your crop must be an astonishingly arduous process.

The arrival into Regina was uneventful. There are a couple organizations on the field that offer fuel. Regina would be our first lesson that FBOs in Canada aren’t the same as those in the U.S. We chose Esso Aviation for no real reason. The ground controller directed me to a large parking ramp on the west or southwest side of the field, and turned me loose to figure the rest out. Umm… now what? We found another couple of small planes and parked next to them as if they knew what they were doing. I walked to the Esso building and headed in to use the bathroom and arrange for fuel. Umm… still no one was present. I tried to walk back out to the airplane, but the door was locked and I didn’t have a code. The lesson here is that the doors are customarily locked to traffic entering the airfield. You have to make note of the gate/door code when leaving so you can get back in. No worries. I called the one Esso guy on duty and arranged for fuel and to get the door code.

Because of the maintenance delay in Valley City, we decided to finish the day in Regina instead of our planned destination of Edmonton. That worked out though, because the girls were crossing the border at about the same time we were and would meet us in Regina. Without planning it, we all ended up at the first Canadian stop together. We called for a cab to meet the girls at the Days Inn. Carly, Brayden, and Declan were hyper with excitement to see each other. Their highlight for the day was using the three-story water slide into the hotel’s pool.

Discussing the trip at dinner after arriving in Fairbanks, we all agreed that the events of this day were some of the best we had. How can you plan to meet such interesting and generous people as the Lindemanns? I’ve been planning this trip since I was sitting in my housing unit in Iraq during 2008. How could I have scripted that the border authorities would grill me while Uncle Norris wandered around the secure area and Dad shopped liquors in the duty free shop. There were majestic and spectacular sights around almost every bend of our last three days, but we all agreed that the vastly diverse and interesting people we encountered along the trip were hard to top.

The plan for tomorrow is to stop in Edmonton, Dawson Creek or Fort Saint John, and Fort Nelson. It was great to see the girls, but wow, Declan takes a toll on you. It really seems like he should be sleeping through the night by now. Liz and Beverly really deserve a great deal of credit for not only managing the kids, but having a great time while they do it. Until tomorrow…

Brett
http://www.andringatrek.blogspot.com/

This is a great running TR!! Keep posting...

Thanks Z. I wish I could have kept up with it during the trip.

Finally had a chance to sit and read this...will be looking forward to the rest of the story.

I'm glad you had the time. Wish I did. My wife started her job with BLM's AFS on Monday. Inconvenient for me, that was the the second day after we got our household goods shipped. I've been settling the house while taking care of the kids. These are both tasked that I'm not qualified for. I've fallen asleep at the computer three nights in a row. Hopefully I'll have another two of the remaining three days today. Thanks for your continued interest.

Brett

Glad to see you made it here.
If you need a place to park your plane let me know.
I am on a private strip not to far away. 31ak.

Ken

AKFlyer,

Thanks for the offer. I'm on East Ramp right now. That will be good enough for the time being. I'll PM you, but I hope we can link up some time soon.

Brett

Sounds good Brett.

Good to see you made it safe.

Ken

DAY 4 (19 JUNE): REGINA, SASKATCHEWAN(CYQR) TO DAWSON CREEK, BRITISH COLUMBIA (CYDQ)

CYQR – CYLL – CYZH - CYDQ

This was definitely the roughest morning wakeup of the trip. Good ole Declan and his poor sleeping habits took their toll on me during the night. I think he got up two or three times. When the alarm went off, the crew rallied pretty quick. My parents would have been up since four, so it was important to be downstairs at a respectable hour. We had breakfast, took a group photo, and sent the girls on their way. The unplanned rendezvous in Regina was the only time we actually had the whole cast together at one time. After taking a picture for us, the desk attendant from Days Inn gave Brayden a Saskatchewan Rough Riders window flag. This was very generous and unexpected. I was impressed with the Canadians we had met to this point. All (except for the border patrol who thought I was up to some funny business) have been very friendly.

Both the driving and flying crews together in Regina. This was the only time of the trip that all eight of us were in the same place. From left to right: Liz, Carly, Brayden, my Dad, Uncle Norris, Beverly, Declan, and me.

The high pressure that kept the frontal system to our southwest yesterday shifted to the northeast allowing severe weather to creep up to Edmonton. I decided to depart IFR northbound out of Regina to Saskatoon, and then turn westbound to Lloydminster for fuel and some weather decision making. Having worked out the kinks with FBO differences the night before, our loading and departure was simple. The thunderstorms were present out our left door, but our flight route easily cleared them by over 50-miles before turning west. By giving the storms a wide berth, we enjoyed a smooth flight at 8,000 feet, complete with a tailwind of at least 15 knots. The visual approach into Lloydminster was uneventful, and we parked at the fuel tank on the northeast side of the ramp.

Along the way to Lloydminster, we marveled at the vast distances between neighbors. Uncle Norris questioned how many of the residents accomplished the simple things like grocery shopping, power, and schools. Talking with two gentlemen working at Lloydminster’s Courtesy Air, the houses are on the North American power grid and buses cover the entire area, taking children to regional schools. This doesn’t lessen how impressive the austere farming environment was along our route.

The fueling procedure is interesting at Lloydminster. The FBO collocated with the fuel tank is not in charge of the pump. You call a number on the pump to get the padlock combination. Then, You pump the fuel and call that gentleman back to pay with a credit card. I’m not sure if I didn’t just pump fuel and give some unrelated and completely random identity thief my credit information. I wondered if everyone that fuels simply puts their number on the pump and receives the payment from the next guy.

With the airplane fueled and everyone cycled through the restroom, we were ready to depart. By flying into Lloydminster, we had gotten ahead of the front. Flight service me for beautiful VFR weather the rest of the day with isolated areas of afternoon cloud buildup. When I say that flight service briefed me, I mean that the briefer at 866-WX-BRIEF gave me the briefing. I expected that each field had a nice FSS person that briefed you face to face or through a local phone number based off reading the Alaska Airmen’s Association “Logbook”. This is no longer the case. There are regional flight service stations that brief pilots and receive flight plans. The appropriate number at every field I used was 866-WX-BRIEF.

We proceeded to Slave Lake on another short leg, assisted by a honking tailwind. Skies were clear and the air was relatively smooth. The approach into Slave Lake’s runway 10 is fairly picturesque with the runway right on the southeast corner of the lake. Making left traffic put us out over the water with a beautiful view of the airport and town. The number of mills east of town was noteworthy and deserved investigation by Uncle Norris. We parked at Can-West on the north side and called for a taxi.

I met a nice gentleman flying his 185 from Edmonton to Whitehorse to meet a friend. The only significance to meeting him was that it put our trip in a slightly different perspective. I was amazed that he didn't put years of planning and thought into his trip. Really, you didn't get all the literature and cover your walls with charts and images?! That is just crazy. This wasn't a once in a lifetime journey for him, it was just Wednesday. Huh. Interesting. I had lost perspective on how many people are just operating in the area either commercially or privately. It really helped me to relax a little.

The FBO and cab driver both recommended Lou-Lou’s for Lunch, and it didn’t disappoint. We were hungry enough that most anything would have been received well. Now we are up to eight or nine meals in a row that Brayden has ordered a cheeseburger. If mom finds out about this, I’ll be in a bit of trouble. The cab driver also made deliveries to the mills east of town. We queried him about these mills, which we had seen on our approach to the airport. He described the lumber industry and the mills, detailing their importance to Slave Lake and its residence. In particular, he described the difficulties faced by many workers when a new mill was built then closed shortly there after. Several families had purchased homes in town and moved to Slave Lake only to have the mill close and lose their jobs. Although the new, state of the art mill is supposed to reopen, the damage was done.

Gordon (we think this is his name) returned from his delivery and gave us a ride back out to the airport. While I checked weather and filed, Uncle Norris and Brayden explored the fire bombers on the northeast corner of the field. In true Uncle Norris style, they walked right to the middle of the operation and found the most knowledgeable and personable person to tell them about it. Uncle Norris’s curious and outgoing nature added a lens to our group’s view of the trip that really made everything perfect. He wouldn’t allow anything to get in the way of enjoying and exploring every second of the experience.

The firebomber ramp was littered with CL-415s, an Aero Commander, a four-engine tanker, and several helicopters. I was pretty ignorant of all the airplane types except the helicopters. Except for the helicopters, I was ignorant of all the other types. I’ve now educated myself on all the firebomber and retardant tankers through Liz’s work at Alaska Fire Service on Fort Wainwright.

Brayden with a beautiful Electra on the ramp at Slave Lake.

Brayden standing in front of a line of CL-415 Super Scoopers. I didn't know what they were until I got to Alaska and explored the BLM ramp at Fort Wainwright. The CL-415 is the more modern and turbine replacement to the CL-215.

We departed Slave Lake on a westbound course to Dawson Creek. The group discussed whether to go to Dawson Creek or Fort Saint John for the night and decided on Dawson Creek. The allure of getting a photo at the “mile 0” sign was too great to pass up. I expected turbulence with the rising terrain, winds, and afternoon heating, but the ride was relatively smooth. What I hadn’t taken into account was that the terrain was steadily rising to Dawson Creek instead of hilly. I expected the winds to cause mechanical turbulence as they burbled over the hilly terrain, but without the hills, we only experienced a couple bumps from afternoon heating.

The approach was uneventful into Dawson Creek, although I was still struggling with what the CARS radio operator wanted me to report on the way into the airport. In the U.S., uncontrolled airports have an advisory frequency that everyone in the area monitors. You make calls when you are inbound and on each leg of the traffic pattern. Most of the airports I used in Canada had a mandatory frequency (MF) with a local radio operator on the other end. You must contact them prior to reaching five miles and at points in the traffic pattern. I was confused, and thought I still had to make traffic calls. The Dawson Creek controller gave me a quick class on how the system works.

There was a large, turboprop, airliner taking up most of the ramp; several small airplanes in what looked like two overgrown grass rows with a sign that said “Little Airplane Parking”; and a huge manicured grass area abounded by temporary orange fencing. A ramper for the airliner motioned me past the tail of the turbo prop. I still didn’t know where to go. It dawned on me that the Canadian Owners and Pilots Association (COPA) fly-in was during the coming weekend. I turned north and taxied over a rougher spot onto the manicured grass parking area. The boundary between the gravel taxiway and the grass parking area was rougher than I thought, and gave me a good jolt as the mains went through the lowest spot. For a second, I was afraid that I would strike the prop. That would have been a bad day. Our aft CG, 6” mains, and the dip caused me to bump the tail tie-down into the dirt. I’m glad that I had the yoke in my lap and a little power applied.

I’ve never been a fan of the term “complacent”. It’s usually used in too broad a sense to be helpful. I prefer to analyze exactly where or why I've become complacent to pinpoint what I can do to mitigate risk. I had become too comfortable figuring out parking “on the fly”. In this case, I was getting annoyed and impatient, and taxied somewhere I shouldn’t have. I was feeling successful about the day’s flight before I was parked. I’m glad I didn’t do any damage, save for a couple scratches around the tie-down ring, but this was a wakeup call that I needed to take my time and be deliberate all the way to the tied down.

After parking I walked around to find someone knowledgeable to steer me to the correct transient parking. I found Mark operating a riding lawnmower near where I had just crossed from the gravel to grass. He was attempting to mow the smoothest section in that area and mark where airplanes should cross. Not surprisingly, I had crossed at the wrong spot. He guided us to the overgrown area for transient parking and pointed out the fuel pump. I hopped back in and taxied the now lighter airplane (all the passengers had gone in the terminal) across the correct spot and into the transient area. Mark was even nice enough to mow a parking spot in the transient area for me. It took a lot of power to taxi on the rain soaked grass. Like Gastons a couple weeks ago, my difficulties taxiing on the grass taught me that I need more flotation from larger tires all the way around.

Parked in the fly-in's parking area at Dawson Creek. The prop is intact after taxiing across a rough boundary between the gravel taxiway and this freshly mowed field east of the ramp. After the difficulties I've had on grass, I'm gonna put on an Airglass fork, 8.00 all the way around, and Aero Twin main landing gear gravel deflectors.

The terminal was empty except for the folks in the restaurant. We called the Days Inn for a room and called for a cab using an advertisement above the terminal payphone. I had not done any research on Canadian towns, and thus went into every city/town/village with a curiosity as to why it was established and what its current function was. From our observation, Dawson Creek had two main purposes, the largest of which was to host the many variations of laborer that based from the town to work oil and lumber jobs in the region. The parking lot of the Days in was filled with work trucks of every sort. Most were barely recognizable with many industry specific modifications and enough gravel dust to make vehicle color indistinguishable. The town’s other function was to host the many travelers that, during this time of year, were making their way northwest along the highway. The Walmart parking lot was full of campers with either U.S.or Ontario registrations. My Dad described that the campers were only resting and not camping in the parking lot. The difference being whether one’s awning was out. Awning out equals camping, while no awning deployment means you are just resting.

Waiting for the cab at Dawson Creek.



I had forgotten all about the COPA fly-in that would start two days after we went through. I saw it posted on BCP a couple weeks before the trip. If I joined, I might have won the prize for longest trip to get there.

All the travelers "resting" fort he night before starting north on the Alaska Highway.

We ate at an urban grill in a nearby hotel. Without transportation, we were limited on choices. I’m pretty sure Brayden is on nine or ten cheeseburgers now. Judging by the crazy and trendy hairdos of the restaurant staff, it must get very windy in Dawson Creek. I felt a little out of place in cargo shorts and a sweaty T-shirt. No matter. Highlights from the previous night’s Stanley Cup game were on and they had some Bud Light.

Tomorrow’s plan is to make the trip up to Fort Nelson, followed by Lunch in Watson Lake and Dinner in Whitehorse. Reading the Alaska Airmen’s Logbook, the legs from Fort Nelson to Watson Lake and on to Whitehorse would be some of the most spectacular of the trip. The four of us settled into our two full beds and crashed. I typed about two lines of this summary before falling asleep with my finger on the “D” key. Until tomorrow….

Brett
http://andringatrek.blogspot.com/

Loving the trip report. Your description of Dawson Creek is bang on. I used to stay there lots for work, so one of those jacked up muddy trucks couldve been mine.
If you flew direct from Slave Lake to DC you pretty much flew directly over my house.

David