Author: Chuck Banks

The Genesis of the Thanksgiving Fiesta at Plymouth Rock – The CarMax Version

Editor’s Note – Chuck has been screwing around with this blog post for months and it’s interfering with him getting to real unicorns. Publishing now…will update with dash cam footage if and when he reviews them! Thanks for your patience – Chuck.

The “Short” Version” – Not a CarMax unicorn post, just another odd road trip post. This time not even close to an enthusiast’s vehicle. Rented a Cruise America Recreational Vehicle (RV) for a solo, six-day, one-way journey from Seattle, Washington to Anchorage, Alaska. I could have had the RV for most of May at a discounted rate, but I had a music gig in Virginia on May 21st, and the RV had to be delivered to Anchorage by the morning of May 30th. Meant I had to fly to Seattle the morning of the 22nd, pick up the RV in the afternoon, raid Walmart for supplies the same day, and begin my drive on the 23rd. That left seven days to cover 2,200+ miles. Don’t know if any of you have done this drive, but it was a first for me and what turned out to be a spectacular 2,500-mile drive through British Columbia and the Yukon Territory.

There are only two routes, the Alaska-Canada Highway and the offshoot – the Cassiar Highway. I chose the latter. Probably my sixth RV rental from Cruise America and the third “Rental Deal” that I hope to share with you all at the very end of this blog. Scroll to the bottom if you want to skip my trip. Hint: this one was 75% off and the others I’ve done have been even more deeply discounted. It’s a mini version of the return on investment we’ve gotten from MaxCare though?

What about the drive? Here’s the condensed version of that, too. The scenery was spectacular, as you can imagine. The roads were surprisingly good, until they were horrible. We’ll cover “frost heaves” later. The wildlife (aka bears, moose, and wild horses) were along the road but never a threat. Much. Three of the six RV camps offered varying levels of solitude – one pretty unique – and the other three were not unlike a densely populated KOA campground in the US. I loved the self-reliance of the RV and the hot showers of RV camps. I still don’t fully understand the RV onboard systems. I’ve always done the Cruise America RV checkout with a buddy who’s smarter, or more mechanically inclined, than I, or just more likely to pay attention when the Cruise America tech explains how things work. This time I missed a few things and yet learned along the way. (But I still don’t know what all the auxiliary battery runs when the motor is off, or if I need the generator to run the heat…..)

The Compact Plus RV was perfect for a solo run and might be just good enough for a pair of travelers, and no more. It proved durable and just fast enough – I think my dash cam will prove I was never passed by another RV and passed maybe a dozen or two myself along the way! It’s like a Motel6 room on wheels – a very small Motel6 room. I learned that I needed a full two days to decompress from travel, breathe, enjoy the occasional scenic stop along the way, and not rush morning breakfast and coffee before getting back on the road every day. And yet within minutes of being on the road, sipping coffee, snacking, and listening to music and watching the road, I was back in my element with no regrets.

The regrets came in late afternoon, though, after covering 250 miles and having another couple of hours to go. In all my long distance driving I have not been able to be comfortable with shorter days, fewer miles, and really, really soaking up the scenery. Reviewing the dash cam, I looked at one scenic stop that I thought was meaningful, and noted it was a sum total of eight minutes off the road! I think the longest I did was 20 minutes by a river, and another break cooking lunch at the continental divide.

A good friend had pushed me to find some reflection and solitude time on the road and as much as I wanted that, the demands of driving an RV, at speed, on undulating roads with unexpected divots and rough patches, passing trucks and RV’s, and looking for wildlife, while drinking coffee and searching for radio stations….does not make for a peaceful easy feeling on the road. It was demanding, exhausting, rewarding, and fun. The only self-reflection I did was over drinks and a campfire at a couple of RV spots. And when all was said and done, I still had the wherewithal to add a seventh day and drive to beautiful Seward, Alaska -254 miles round trip, just to go running along the waters of Resurrection Bay – before returning the RV in Anchorage.

The price. The normal price for a one-way rental would have been $2,690; based on a $182/night fee and .38 a mile. The normal one-way drop fee was not visible to me and was waived anyway for my deal – 75% off. I added total insurance coverage at $159, prepaid sewage dump and prepaid propane refill at $39 each to keep life simple. (Full and maybe too much disclosure – I dumped little and used little propane so not sure how much of a good deal this was?) I used the generator for a whopping one-hour total to microwave soup and chili every now and then over seven days and the charge was $3.50. The initial quote from Cruise America was based on an estimated 2,300 miles of driving, and with my whimsical round trip to Seward I ended up driving 2,589 miles.

Bottom line – instead of paying about $2,700 for the excursion my net price for the RV was $1,072 – about $150/night. Fuel cost me another $1,200 and blindsided me. Eight of my 13 fill-ups were 20 gallons or more and the most expensive 30-gallon tank cost me $185 USD. No idea why I was taken aback by how much fuel I would use and how expensive it would be. Felt like a noob. RV parks were only $268 total. Walmart food and supplies was $175. Bar tabs….I don’t remember. No records were kept.

Conclusion: It was a fantastic bucket list drive for a reason and worth every penny. I’m going to do it again. (And as of this writing the first Seattle to Anchorage “Rental Deal” has been published on the Cruise America website, but at the moment only 25% off. Nah.)

THE (REALLY) LONG VERSION

Cruise America rents RV’s ranging from “Large” 30 footers that sleep seven (with a Ford V-10 motor!), down to 20 foot “Compact” RV’s that sleep 3. They also have tow-behind travel trailers and occasionally truck campers (includes the pickup truck) on their website, although none now. In between is the “Compact Plus” that I rented; a 20.5-footer that sleeps four. The Compact Plus is narrow, with single tires on the back axle instead of dualies, and at only seven feet wide it fits in a regular old parking place at Walmart. I’ve seen specs that suggest it has either a 5.4 liter or 7.1-liter V-8, and I regret forgetting to pop the hood and see what I had…but what I had was just adequate for passing and climbing mountains. No complaints.

About the RV

The Compact Plus has a 40-gallon fuel tank, 20.5-gallon freshwater tank (showers and dishwashing – non potable), 16-gallon grey water tank (from the shower and sink), 6-gallon water heater tank, 11-gallon propane tank, and 17-gallon sewage tank (the poopy one). The RV also has an onboard generator ($3.50 an hour to run it) and an auxiliary battery for cabin lights, charged by the engine or the generator (I think). The young lady who checked me out in Seattle worked in the detail shop the week prior and knew even less than me about the systems. My RV had a solar trickle charger, and neither of us knew what it did on a regular basis. The RV had a microwave oven, small propane-powered fridge with a tiny freezer (didn’t matter – no matter the setting the top two shelves of beer, yogurt, water, and soft drinks froze solid), a gas cooktop, and a a shower/toilet stall.

Picture on the left is rear facing, with the kitchen area (cooking on the left, fridge and microwave on the right), bed and dinner table in the back. Right photo is forward facing, with the toilet/shower on the left and a dim view of the over cab bunk straight ahead.

The bed over the cab slept two and the rear bed another two, all probably double bed sized, and the rear bed had a cutout section for a modest dinette table on a pole that easily stowed away. The RV had Bluetooth and a USB jack, although the cab’s acoustics were such that nobody could understand a word I was saying on the phone and voice to text ended up with the most bizarre messages, so I used Air Pods whenever I needed to make a call or text. I brought an old iPhone6 that has my entire iTunes library of old to use as a basic MP3 player. Apple oddly deleted a thousand songs from my iPhone 14, and I loved hearing my old library from the iPhone6.

Plopping down into the driver’s seat for the first time at Cruise America in Everett, just north of Seattle, I got anxious. The seat was hardly adjustable – fore/aft ever so slightly, and I couldn’t recline at all – the shower stall wall was up against my seat back. The seating position was like a kitchen chair, a far cry from the plush recliner in the Mercedes S600. I anticipated too many stops to stretch, back aches, and pain pills.

To my surprise it turned out to be like my old Porsche 911 – totally unable to change seating positions and yet it didn’t matter. I rarely got stiff or uncomfortable even staying in one position for two to three hours at a pop. The RV had cruise control that served me well until the roads got too bad and I needed to be more hands (feet?) on. It also had a “Tow/Haul” button on the gearshift that I have never fully understood, other than it controls descent on hills and it did that well. In the past I disengaged “Tow/Haul” because I wasn’t towing or hauling but read somewhere I should leave it on all the time and so I did. As always, I defer to RV people who know more than me on the right answer.

Pre-Trip Intelligence
Before leaving home, I joined the Alaska-Canada (Al-Can)/ Cassiar Highway Facebook page for insight and advice on driving north. There are folks on it like me nervously planning their first drive looking for wisdom, experienced hands giving their best counsel to us noobs, and lots of folks currently driving and offering real time observations. All were helpful, some more than others. Beforehand, they all said I need the map/travel guide Milepost, the definitive Bible on driving the Al-Can. I bought it on Amazon for $30 and I just sold it for $15 on eBay. Milepost literally has turn-by-turn, mile-by-mile (km-by-km?) details on the couple of primary routes, side trips, sights to see, where’s gas, camping, propane, medical help and on and on. It really has a ton of information and is updated regularly. It’s a real analog resource. It was of limited value to me. Way too detailed. It’s fun to read it before leaving home and maybe at night during the trip, but impossible to use in real time balanced on the dashboard while bouncing up the highway.

The Route
The toughest decision of my trip was whether to take the western, slightly, shorter, more remote Cassiar Highway route (British Columbia Highway 37), or the more civilized and popular Al-Can Highway (Highway 1). The Cassiar sounded even more remote, exciting, and riskier and the Al-Can includes the photo-op at Dawson’s Creek.

A number of factors drove my decision. The first is embarrassingly stupid. Before I left Virginia, I poked in more than a few start/end points in Google maps and had a really good itinerary planned (Seattle-Williams Lake-Kitwanga-Dease Lake-Whitehorse-Tok-Anchorage). Even booked the first night’s RV camp at Williams Lake. Kept looking at the picture of Dawson’s Creek at Mile 0, the official starting point of the Al-Can Highway and then BAM! – I realized that wasn’t on my route! Totally lost on me that I had chosen the more remote route – the Cassiar. The one that has the longest distance between gas stations. That’s when the Al-Can/Cassiar Highway Facebook page started to spook me. There was talk of wildfires interfering with the eastern Al-Can highway route. At Bob Quinn Lake on the Cassiar Highway a washout closed the road for a bit. There are only two routes north and both sounded ominous, and I hadn’t even left Virginia.

My ADHD and OCD made me create two spreadsheets, one for the Cassiar and one for the Al-Can, with daily mileage, gas stops, running stops, and possible overnight points. The route was the same from Everett until Prince George, British Columbia, where I’d be around midday on Day 2, and so I held off making the call until I got a feel for the road and (hopefully) more current info on road conditions after the first day of driving.

Last, the Facebook group clued me in to some interesting Canadian websites that are highly recommended for late breaking updates; BC Wildfire Service app, Drive BC for road conditions, and 511 Yukon for Yukon Territory road conditions. Again, I found them of interest before I left camp in the morning, but clunky when I had no cell service on the drive. The best intel on roads and fires and availability of gas was the Facebook page, and even then, I had to scrub the info for perishability. “When I drove through last month……” is of no use when conditions change fast. And they can change quickly. But then again, I didn’t have Facebook when I didn’t have cell. If you want to start a fight on the Facebook page, just try to advocate technology over a paper map, or denigrate Milepost. Folks will pummel you.

DAY BY DAY MEMORIES

Day 0
Flew into Seattle and had a quick lunch with a friend who promised, and did, deliver me just north to the Cruise America location in Everett, Washington before the place closed for the evening. I was grateful because I brought two giant suitcases, a backpack, and a guitar with me. One extra-large suitcase had bedding and camp supplies, and the other clothing for warm weather, cold weather, and running gear for both. Pickup at Cruise America went okay. The RV’s control panel showed fresh water was a third low and I asked for it to be tanked up. The young lady did her best to explain things and struggled on the auxiliary battery and the solar charging light – at return the young man told me that’s a solar trickle charger.

I loaded my bags and headed to Walmart. I had placed a $175 online order upon takeoff from Washington with food, more supplies, a camp chair, and even a $12, 12-cup coffee pot. Every time I’ve rented an RV, I bought a coffee pot and donated it upon return. A bargain. The Walmart delivery was delayed but I used the time to put clothing and supplies away in the RV. I intended to spend the first night in an Everett hotel and get an early start the next morning and really didn’t want to hump all that gear to my room.

I left Walmart and almost immediately a trouble light came on in the dash about a fuel filler problem. And while I didn’t think it was a big deal by itself, equally immediately I wondered what else about this RV might be unreliable and how foolish I might be attempting this journey alone. A foreboding wave came over me on the short drive to the hotel and I honestly considered returning the RV to Cruise America, complaining that I had little confidence in the camper, and abandoning the whole journey. I get that way sometimes. Instead, when I got to the hotel I tightened the gas cap, and never had another problem. That close to quitting prematurely.

Checked into the Delta Marriott in Everett, had a beer with dinner, and watched the Denver Nuggets complete their sweep of the Los Angeles Lakers by just two points and win the NBA’s Western Conference. Heading to my room I found the Delta Marriott has a private pantry for Platinum members with much of the same food, drinks, and snacks I paid dearly for at Walmart. No matter. With each coming and going to my floor I plundered more yogurt, chocolates, breakfast cereals, and general snacks. It’s the Baltimore in me. I got an okay night’s rest, tossing and turning worried how the drive would go, and yet woke up excited to get started.

DAY 1 EVERETT TO WILLIAMS LAKE 390 MILES 7 HOURS

After a last hot hotel breakfast, I headed north. Even though there was an Interstate running through Everett, Waze took me only on backroads to get to the border crossing town of Sumas, Washington. The slower speeds allowed me to familiarize myself with the RV. My navigation plan was to run using Waze on my phone as much as possible, an old-fashioned Garmin GPS that I owned for years, updated with the latest maps, and an even more old-fashioned paper map from the Alaska-Canada Highway almanac and Bible, Milepost. I knew my iPhone 14 has built in satellite GPS, and yet when there is no cell, and you close a navigation app it does not seem you can resume navigating by GPS. Or at least I didn’t know how. The satellite GPS Garmin gave me situational awareness and context on where I was and how far to go that was reassuring and constant.

I had input my first refueling stop as my first waypoint, Sumas, Washington. It was the last possible place to gas up in the USA and the border crossing point into Canada. I really chose it for its name – Super Dooper Boomtown. Added 25 gallons of regular for $100 and was set for another 400 miles. (Cruise America had given me the RV with ¾ tank and I only needed to bring it back with that much.)

Next came the border crossing, and I was anxious as hell. I’ve crossed hundreds of borders in my day, usually in my own name, and yet the Al-Can/Cassiar Hwy Facebook crowd had me unnerved. What can you bring or not bring into Canada? I put off buying bear spray until after the border because of the chatter. One traveler told a story of having misspoke on carrying medicines, I think, and the Canadian guard said, “I wonder what else you might not be remembering?” and tore into a lengthy, intrusive secondary inspection of their RV. I have my crossing all on dash cam. It’s quite cringeworthy.

Wasn’t sure how the border crossing was going to go with nothing to show on the RV but a rental agreement contract number and insurance ID. Was a total non-issue for customs.

He asked me about produce and I may or may not have forgotten about some Walmart apples. I explained in way too much detail about the one-way Cruise America RV deal. And when he asked if I had alcohol on board I said yes, a couple of miniatures (not at all accurate) he asked me how many. I said two. I actually had two half pints of Jack Daniels (thought it would be sacrilegious to take Crown Royale or Canadian Club into Canada). Not sure why I panicked. I think when he asked, “How much alcohol?” I heard “How bad is your drinking problem?” and overreacted. The rule I think is no more than 1.75 liters and I was far from that. Anyway, in minutes I was through the check point and feeling silly at my ridiculous behavior. (Spoiler – somehow my dash cam overwrote my return into Alaska and my silly banter on return is not recorded.)

The rest of the drive on Day 1 was largely uneventful. It rained quite a bit; the scenery grew more rugged with streams and rivers and two-lane byways heading northeast into Canada. As with my last couple of cross-country drives, as a three-time blood clot survivor my plan was to stop at midday and squeeze in a three-mile run. By map recon I had chosen a town called Lytton, just off the highway and along the Fraser River, as my running spot. But when I rolled into the “town” I found nothing but foundations surrounded by blue construction zone fencing. I stopped and asked the highway crew what happened, and it turns out Lytton burned down in hours back in 2021. The weather had hit 121 degrees – the highest temperature ever in Canada and higher than records in Europe and South America at the time (thanks Wiki), and a wildfire torched the woods and the town. Oddly there are still a handful of houses miraculously untouched.

I drove for a bit looking for a place to run and gave up, heading on to my campground. For the rest of the trip, I struggled to find places to run. On the route to Alaska there are few “rails to trails” type paths to run just off the highway, and it’s too dangerous to run along the two-lane byways that make up most of the route. For the most part I had to run in towns, and it was far duller than I wanted it to be.

On Day 1 I tried to take a few business calls that were challenging because of the crappy Bluetooth and RV cabin acoustics, and pulling over was inconvenient and clunky. I found myself a bit irritated trying to do voice to text even with air pods and started to feel irresponsible that customers and suppliers were counting on me to keep things moving even on this road trip. I kept making promises to catch up when I got to towns with cell service or Wi-Fi. That went on for two days.

I had my one and only RV camp reservation made in advance at Wildwood RV Park in Williams Lake, British Columbia. Some good guidance on Facebook was that RV parks are relatively plentiful and booking too many in advance might box a traveler in. While that was mostly true, after the trip I was surprised to learn that in advance I had penciled in five overnight layups between Seattle and Anchorage, and I actually stayed in four of the five. It was a good plan after all. I rolled into Wildwood way before dusk and the kind owner checked me in and showed me around. The price for full hookup (water, waste, and power) was a whopping $34. That included hot showers in the morning, so I didn’t have to use the cramped RV shower. I thanked her, and promptly headed back out to the Fox Mountain Brewing Company in Williams Lake to watch the Bostin Celtics stave off elimination from the Miami Heat in their game 4 of the NBA Eastern Conference playoffs, eat dinner, and knock back a few Hillbilly Blond” beers. A self-sustaining dinner in the RV would have to wait for another day.

Felt like a slacker eating and drinking at a brewery my first night in the RV.

The weather in Williams Lake was chilly but not so cold that I wasn’t comfortable zipped up in a fleece blanket inside a summer weight sleeping bag. Didn’t need to turn the heat on and slept like a baby.

DAY 2 WILLIAMS LAKE TO KITWANGA 440 MILES 8 HOURS
Highway 97 (Caribou Hwy, following the Fraser River) North to Prince George Fork – Highway 16 (Yellowhead Highway) to Kitwanga

Woke up without an alarm about 8 am, took a hot shower, and made a pot of coffee for a quick breakfast and to fill the thermos for the day’s drive. Got everything stowed and some music ready and had an “Aha!” moment – the shoreline – the power cable connecting the RV to the campground utility pole, was still attached. Was both proud of myself for remembering and a little sheepish that I had to get back out from behind the wheel to disconnect it and stow it in the side compartment. I wonder how many lines are ripped out driving away unplugged? If it happened to me, I would just keep going with the power line dangling along the highway until I could find a remote place to put it all back together.

A gas station was right across the street, and I added 30 gallons of regular gas for $137. Don’t hold me to refueling costs and figures. At some point I was converting liters to gallons and Canadian dollars to US and Fahrenheit to Celsius and trying to sort it all out, then reconciling with the credit card bill a month later. For sure it was $137 after conversion, and 114 liters.

Surprisingly, I was into Day 2, and I hadn’t really decided the route I was going to go. The Cassiar Highway seemed more rugged and there was some reporting of a closure a day or two earlier at Bob Quinn Lake, all of which made me a little nervous. Taking the Al-Can Highway the whole way would be longer and make me a little anxious about reaching Anchorage by the Cruise America deadline if something went wrong, and there had been forest fires wreaking havoc off and on. One of the towns (Fort Nelson?) had even lost power due to the fires, and with the loss of power came the loss of access to gasoline. A few hours north of Williams Lake was Prince George, the crossroads where I’d have to decide between the two.

Oddly, during all my predeparture planning I had been looking at the Cassiar Highway route as my default, but thinking it was the Al-Can the whole way! Only a day or two before flying west did I realize the error of my ways, and that only came from my puzzlement that the touristy “Start of the Al-Can Highway” photo op sign in Dawson Creek was mysteriously not on my route! I felt stupid. At some point while driving north the morning of Day 2 I locked in on the western, remote Cassiar Highway and committed well before Prince George.

I made a stop in Quesnel about midday to finally buy bear spray. Bought it at Canadian Tire and Auto, which is more like a combined Tractor Supply and outdoor store than an automotive outfit. A saleslady fetched the spray from behind a locked cabinet, asked me if I’d ever used it, and gave me a quick tutorial. I asked her if she’d ever used bear spray and she said, “Oh no, I just shoot them and smoke the meat for the winter.” The first colorful Canadian I’d meet along the way. I had to sign a document acknowledging bear spray is dangerous and non-returnable and I was on my way. Not cheap either at something like $40.

I had been struggling with ending Day 2 at either Smithers, a large town with a Super Walmart and some big RV campgrounds, and Kitwanga, a more rustic crossroads with limited gas and RV camp offerings but a little farther away. Again, the Facebook crowd had me anxious about gas along the Cassiar Highway. I decided to go long and make it to Kitwanga.

On one hand, it seems underwhelming and a bit if understatement to say the Day 2 drive was more of the same, but it was. More mountains, more streams and rivers and rapids. More trees that reach to the sky. It doesn’t get old and yet it does become familiar, pleasant, and satisfying.

I gassed up in Prince George after 150 miles, again in Smithers 230 miles later, and oddly, after only 40 miles in New Hazelton because the Facebook crowd warned me the PetroCan station in Kitwanga was going to close for a few weeks. Then it wasn’t closed, so I gassed up again to be ready for the next day! Five gas stops in a single, 440-mile day. Some of the advice on the Facebook page is to “gas up every chance you can” and that makes no sense. I’d still be on the road with so many gas stations close by and open. In winter, that might be another matter.

I moved on to Fraser Lake, a small town where I found a midday run along the lake. It was exactly what I needed. I even took a few minutes more to make a business call or two and microwave some chili for lunch. Felt refreshed and got back on the road.

The afternoon drive was just like the morning and the day before. Beautiful really. Saw my first snowcaps. The road was a little more remote and right after two young ladies driving little cars solo passed me, I saw what was either a coyote or a fox beside the road and I made a mental note to mark that on the dash cam but never found it again. I rolled onto Kitwanga by dinner and the gas station was open (turns out it was closing the next day) and so I tanked up anyway and looked up the RV camps on my phone. I found one, called them to make sure they had a spot, and rolled into the Kitwanga River RV Camp to check in.

The old man at the desk gave me a spot on a hillside in between two RV’s whose owners only came on weekends and said I should sign into the “Upper” Wi-Fi site. I was impressed they had a Wi-Fi repeater. The cost for full hookup? $35.

Decided to cook all the burgers at once so I could microwave them for future dinners. Set off the smoke detector. Glad there were no neighbors! Needed a drink to settle down.

Set up. Plugged in. Had a cocktail and made dinner. And the mosquitoes assaulted me in waves. I had heard about the bugs in Canada, and it was spot on. While the bug spray kept them off me, they still landed on my food and in my Jack and “Twist Up” (Walmart’s generic Diet Sprite – top shelf only for me). The bugs were oppressive. I hung in there much of the evening enjoying the scenery and drink. Set up a game camera on the picnic table to record all the bears passing through that I had read about on Facebook. Secured the RV, or so I thought, and slept soundly again in the comfy bed and sleeping bag.

DAY 3 KIWANGA TO DEASE LAKE 300 MILES 6 HOURS
Highway 37, The British Columbia Hwy, Stewart-Cassiar Hwy, to Mezidian Junction (gas) right turn on 37 (still British Columbia Hwy becoming Dease Lake Hwy)

Woke to find that I had not, in fact, secured the camper. No harm, but more than once on this trip I’d exit from the driver’s door at the end of the day, return through the RV side door to cook and chill, and at bedtime forget to lock the front cockpit doors. Fortunately, no bears tried the door handles. In fact, the game camera documented absolutely no wildlife came by the RV at all. Disappointed. Back in Virginia my Facebook feed would show me reels of bears opening car doors like nothing. Glad I didn’t get eaten.

Sunrise had come early and brought with it a sweeping change in my attitude. Instead of a functional breakfast, quick pack, and return to the road I sat back down for a second cup of coffee and even a third. The bugs were few and the snowcapped mountains were still there (duh) and for the first time I relaxed and worried not about the itinerary. I wished I had my “Be Here Now” coffee mug with me. I had planned for a 300-mile, six-hour drive and so with about 30 hours of sunlight every day there was really no deadline. Eventually, I packed up and returned to the road (again remembering the shoreline just before engaging drive), heading north on Highway 37.

Was surprised to find I felt as comfortable being back on the road, singing and driving and slurping coffee, as I was hanging at camp. It’s a good feeling when neither driving nor camping are a drag and equally fun. Highway 37 follows the Nass River, and about an hour and a half in I screamed across it on the modern Nass River bridge, catching the rapids out of the corner of my eye. That was my first real “what are you doing?!” moment. Made a U-turn and parked the RV for a good half an hour, enjoying a cup of coffee on a park bench and soaking up the scenery and experience. And hoping the bears weren’t doing the same.

(The dash cam caught me turning around, parking for a while, and wandering into the porta john. Really should be an autodelete feature on these things.) Later I would make stops that I thought were unhurried and meaningful, only to learn from the dash cam clock I parked at a scenic overlook for….eight minutes.

Somewhere north of Kitwanga I spotted my first bear meandering beside the road, and then another. The road was largely green, tree-lined, two-lane byway and it was easy to spot a black blob way in the distance and slow down. The harder part is going back to the dash cam footage to find them for posting here. Will do my best.

The Cassiar Highway is more remote, with far less traffic (I am told) than taking the Al-Can the whole way. I had long stretches with little to no traffic, some RV’s, and cargo, construction and utility trucks to pass, and occasionally I got passed by SUV’s and sedans. There were a few places where roadwork was being done and we slowed, but I never hit sections with the “pilot cars” I had read about – service vehicles with yellow lights that escort small convoys of travelers in one direction or the other when one lane is closed off (or around washouts). I’ve never seen that in the US and think it’s probably better than a flagman at each end with radios turning us loose to blaze down the road.

Also, somewhere north of Kitwanga I lost cell phone service, a remoteness that would last for the next two days until I reached the town of Whitehorse in Yukon Territory. Unsettling at first. I know the iPhone 14 has emergency satellite and allegedly a GPS capability, but all the apps lost their position once I changed screens. Fortunately, I had the old (but updated) Garmin GPS from days of old for situational awareness on location and directions. Really, though, it’s almost impossible to get lost if you stay on the main roads. There are few to no choices to be made along the way. But it was disconcerting to have no phone service.

The Bob Quinn Air Strip. Fascinated me. Silent and remote.

Halfway through my day I saw Bob Quinn Lake on my left – well really just the rustic Bob Quinn airport – and had to pull over and check it out. Got out and poked around over another cup of coffee. Found a neglected 4000’ runway and nothing else, no hangars, tower, or airplanes. Quiet as cemetery. The sign said the airstrip was built in 1990 “to ensure Canadian access to the mineral bounty of the Stikine-Unik-Iskut region”. The internet suggests there was another gold rush going on in the 90’s, and the airstrip was built to counter suspicions the Americans would come up the Stikine River to supply the camps. Don’t know why the Canadians wouldn’t trust us. We almost always play fair.

But who was Bob Quinn, and why does he have a lake (that I never saw) and an airstrip named after him? Wiki failed me but the internet did not. Check out this link. The Bob Quinn Aerodrome web page says “Bob Quinn Lake was named after a trapper, telegraph operator and prospector who sought gold in the wild country between Stewart and Dease Lake in the early 20th Century. Bob Quinn was tough: in the winter of 1911, when he was working a remote trapline, alone, he slipped and broke a leg. Three months later he emerged from the bush, hobbling to Meziadin, then over the Bear Glacier to Stewart on handmade crutches. He had set the broken leg himself and survived the winter alone, by shooting and eating the occasional beaver that got close enough for the injured man to reach.” It also notes, “Bob Quinn was persistent: in 1924-5 he and three others spent two years excavating for gold near Dease Lake. They sunk a test shaft that reached bedrock and promised gold. Instead, they found a Chinese waterwheel from the gold rush of 1870, and little else.” I knew none of that as I sipped my coffee, but thinking he must have been a local hero, or government guy, to have an airport named after him.

Doing a three-mile run between Kitwanga and Dease Lake seemed out of the question, given the remote road with none of the civilized parks with hiking trails or small towns for a quick park and run. Seems in this part of Canada the whole country is a beautiful, rugged national park or a gas stop at a road junction. (As I write I regret not bravely running up and down the Bob Quinn runway with my bear spray and pocketknife. Would have been an adventure.) I pressed on, stopping in Mezidian Junction, where Hwy 37 makes a 90 degree right turn before continuing north. Gassed up, bought a cup of local fresh coffee, and watched what looked like a Medevac helicopter take off to likely fetch some unfortunate soul to safety. Or maybe the air crew had just stopped in for gas and coffee, too?

Killed a lotta bugs. Once drove across the USA in a GMC Yukon (ironic) and counted the number of dead bugs in a 2″x2″ square on the windshield in one day’s driving, then measured the whole windshield and figured I murdered 14,000 bugs on the trip.

My destination for the night was Dease Lake, an outpost first settled in 1837 by the Hudson Bay Company, and a crossroads for gold and asbestos miners. It was supposed to have a restaurant, gas station, and a couple of RV camps among other amenities. What it did NOT have was a pub or restaurant of any kind with sports on TV, which the general store cashier shared with me in a bemused way as she probably did daily. I had counted on watching Game 5 of the Celtics-Heat playoffs as I had in Williams Lake.

That freed up time for a run somewhere in the village of Dease Lake. But where? Map recon didn’t show a good three-mile loop, and driving towards the lake and small airport didn’t show an area that looked long enough or safe enough to get in three miles. But driving back into town I spotted a young lady in shorts and a tank top running carefree down the same road and I figured if she could do it I certainly could, in an admittedly sexist way. It was not lost on me that she was carrying a two-way radio. She was clearly smarter than me. Parked the RV back at the general store and began my run. Didn’t take my bear spray (the young lady didn’t have any!) but when the road got remote, I jingled my keys like a bell – bells are also recommended for hiking in bear country. Not sure if that works but it made me feel better. Later when I was visiting Portland, Oregon the church pastor explained to me that it is also a good idea to watch for fresh signs of bear activity and know the difference between black bear and grizzly bear droppings. Black bear droppings are smaller and contain berries and possibly squirrel fur. Grizzly bear droppings have little bells in them and smell like pepper spray. Funny man.

Six miles north of town lies Water’s Edge RV camp, a dry camp (not no booze – no power, water, sewage – but Wi-Fi when the cam generator is on) and I booked a spot on the lake for the night. It was to be the best overnight stop of the trip. An old man checked me in and explained no generators after 9:30pm, right after he checked in some young kid (turned out he was 36) camping in an old Toyota Yaris. My spot ended up being right next to the kid, I found as I carefully backed into my site hoping not to go off the cliff and into the lake. Quickly set up for the night and took a couple of beers, my guitar, and a camp chair down to the lake to play a few tunes before dinner. It was a very short (25 feet?) but steep descent to Dease Lake and worth it – a post card setting. I could have stayed there for hours, but I didn’t bring enough beer down to the lake and I was hungry.

Returned to my RV to cook burgers and read the news on my tablet before the camp generator, and the camp Wi-Fi, shut down at 9:30. Afterwards, the “kid” invited me over to his site for a beer and sit with a guest from the far side of his site, a 60-something hippie American he had met while I was playing music by the lake. My biggest regret of the whole trip was not getting a picture of the American’s camper van, an early 90’s Ford with an inert (I hoped) air-to-air missile mounted on the side hollowed out for his awning. The rocket had some anti-government warning painted on it.

The ”kid” turned out to be Charlie from Quebec, who was making his way all the way across Canada for a job painting buildings in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. He assured me he had tremendous savings and was choosing to migrate all the way west from Quebec to work for the summer, and maybe in the winter he would drive south to Mexico and works where it was warm. Never doubted he would. His Toyota hatchback had been converted to a camper. The rear seat was removed, and the front passenger seat pushed front so he could sleep in the back, and beneath the hatch floor and where the rear seat had been he built stowaway cabinets for all his food and supplies. It was pretty nifty.

I had a few beers with Charlie and the unnamed hippie dude, and we talked about music, travel, family, and work. The American explained why he was traveling south from Anchorage after a disappointing reunion with his daughter there, all the while smoking pot heated with a blow torch. I’d never seen this before and since learned it’s called “dabbing”. Charlie had stacked a half dozen empty beer cans on the table and offered to trade me a joint for another of my beers, and I gave him one but declined the joint. We all got a kick out of two anti-government campers hanging with a semi-retired US federal government guy.

Amusement when there’s no Wi-Fi or cell? Battleship on the iPhone. And my stupid phone couldn’t tell the difference between a Michelob Ultra and a Natural Light!

Charlie listened to me bitch and moan about the first two days of pulling off the Cassiar for business calls, stared me in the eye, and said “Chuck, seems to me the best thing for you right now would be to stay an extra day or two up here with no cell service”. Been back from that RV trip for months, and every couple of days I think about how right he was. In the morning the American was gone, and I missed my chance to get a photo of his van. Charlie insisted I join him for some French press coffee, and I did, then we parted ways to continue our drives. In the unlikely event someone is still reading this post, this deep, and in the even more unlikely chance someone knows Charlie from Quebec who has a blue Toyota Yaris camper and is painting houses in Whitehorse, please put us in touch.

DAY 4 DEASE LAKE TO WHITEHORSE 405 MILES 7.5 HOURS
Dease Lake to Whitehorse via Hwy 37 to Junction 37 (140 miles, 3 hours) then Hwy 1 – the Alaska Highway

I left Dease Lake refreshed and ready for the drive to Whitehorse. The next leg was allegedly the longest segment without gas, but it was only 140 miles to the next gas station, and I had tanked up before my run the afternoon before. The Ford RV had a range of about 400 miles. But under Charlie’s influence, I really started to absorb the rhythm of the road.

That was easy at first because the road just north of Dease Lake, also know as the Tahltan Highway, was exceptionally smooth and well maintained. Made a mental note to look it up later and I have from this link. I learned that “Tahltan Territory is in the remote northwestern area of what is now British Columbia and encompasses the legendary Stikine River and its tributaries. The Tahltan (pronounced “tall-tan”) people are the Original People of this vast and spectacular wilderness landscape. They occupied and lived sustainably here long before colonization and have never extinguished their Aboriginal Title by treaty or any other legal process…….the Tahltan as “Keepers of the Land.” Tahltan Territory was virtually roadless until 1972 when Highway 37 was completed, running north along the Iskut River and Lakes to Dease Lake, Cassiar and the Yukon.” But nothing about why the road is so nice, so I asked the Facebook community and got nothing at all except a hundred likes. Message me if you know.

Pulled over in Jade City, which is not even close to a city with maybe a couple of dozen residents, a mining camp, and souvenir shop and ultra small motel. No gas, as advertised. A bit dull. But five minutes north of town I spotted the eerie Cassiar Cemetery and had to pull over. The graves were odd, poorly marked, and while in disarray a few had some fresh decorations on them. The web later told me the cemetery was from the early 60’s and had 106 graves (so far) largely from the nearby ghost town of Cassiar. My gut told me the place was haunted, and as the skies darkened, the wind whipped up and the rain lashed out, so I fled. I wasn’t scared. I just needed coffee. Honest. I’d later learn the town of Cassiar was just west of Jade City and maybe I should have stopped. Here’s a link to a heartbreaking news piece from when the entire mining town was auctioned off in 1992.

The ride north to the Junction 37 refueling stop, where the Cassiar rejoins the Alaska-Canada Highway (Hwy1) continued to be interesting. Saw (I think) my first solo bicyclist who was heading south, through the rain, alone and hauling saddlebags of supplies front and rear. It really looked like a rough way to travel before bedding down wherever one could, before being eaten by a bear. I’d see more of these solo bikers on the trip, all of them tougher than me.

Most striking between the Cassiar Cemetery and the junction was the sprawling remains of the Cassiar Highway fire of 2010 that burned over 100 square miles of forest. The Canadian wildfires and smoke blanketing the US have been a remarkable news story all summer, and eyeballing the charred carcass of a decade-plus old forest fire that goes on and on for miles is staggering. I tried to view the footage from the dash cam, and it doesn’t do justice to the graveyard of trees.

Made it to the Junction 37 and lined up behind a half dozen RVs for gas and after a while got out to compare notes with the others, only to find that they had stopped well short of the pumps and none of them were in line for gas. Felt like an idiot. Gassed up and was on my way for another four-hour stint. Endured some rutted roads and minor construction delays but made it to the Continental Divide for a brief walkabout at the rest stop, then on to the Morley Lake rest stop to microwave some delightful chili.

There are benefits to traveling solo. Had some nice passes – me around a small convoy of RV’s as well as a VW Jetta that was holding things up, and some even more impressive passes of the snow-capped kind. Crossed the cool Teslin River Bridge at Johnson’s Corner and headed northwest at Jake’s Corner, along Marsh Lake. Finally entered the town of Whitehorse, my stop for the night. Easy to get in a three-mile run before dinner, although had to run in pants and gloves and a wool hat, unlike Dease Lake the night before in shorts and a T-shirt.

Laid up at Hi Country RV Park right on the outskirts of Whitehorse, the most well-outfitted site of the whole trip and according to its website “The Most Popular RV Park in the Yukon.” They may be right. Great Wi-Fi, hookups, firewood and fire rings, hot showers, but absolutely no view.

Made some dinner and a drink and watched the world go by. While pondering life by the campfire a middle-aged woman stopped by and with a thick German accent said, “My journey’s over. Would you like some of my potatoes and onions?” At first, I thought this was some odd swinger code, like hanging pineapples upside down from the RV mirror, and was oddly uncomfortable. Then I remembered a good friend had once told me that Whitehorse hosts a ton of German tourists and there is even a nonstop flight from Frankfurt to this small town of 25,000. It was hard for me to believe. But it’s true. And as I looked around the RV camp, I saw a whole lotta RVs from the same Canadian RV rental outfit. Germans fly in, drive the Yukon, and overnight in Whitehorse before returning home. Politely said no to the potatoes and onions anyway.

Did a final little video with my phone about 11pm, in the still light evening, of a totally silent RV camp with no one awake but me. Spooky. I went to sleep about midnight thinking I’m going to have a very hard time with jet lag when I go home.

DAY 5 WHITEHORSE TO TOK, ALASKA 390 MILES 7 HOURS

Whitehorse to Tok via Destruction Bay. Hwy 1 to Alaska then Hwy 2, Alcan Crossing Inland. Kluanne Lake. Destruction Bay.

Another excellent night’s sleep in the camper followed by breakfast and coffee in the camp chair, and a hot shower in the bath house. Planned for a seven-plus hour drive that would return me to the USA, but first a gas up and stop by the world’s largest weathervane on the east side of Whitehorse, really a DC-3 airplane on a pole. It moved ever so slightly so the video is worthless. Just outside of town I passed a herd of wild horses (they couldn’t drag me away) and a couple of brown bears. Grizzlies? One took his good old time crossing the road and didn’t give a damn about my RV.

Was a beautiful day with more of the same great scenery and seemed to be driving straight towards Mt. Martha Black and Mt. Archibald forever, until a hard right turn in Haines Junction and heading northwest to loop south of Silver City and Kluane Lake. Kluane Lake was an awesome sight prompting another five-minute stop for pictures. At the pullout there was a broke down vehicle with a couple of others around it and more than a few underneath doing repairs. I didn’t know what protocol was, since there seemed to be lots of help and pretty much no assistance I could provide, so I made coffee and headed back out. I still don’t know if reaching out to them and pretending to offer help would have been the right thing to do.

Gassed up in Destruction Bay because it didn’t hurt to top off and because it’s a pretty cool name for a town. The town got its name from the early 1940’s when the US Army set up camp there while building the Alaska Highway, and a storm tore down all the shelters. Now there’s a population of maybe three dozen, and the web says there’s even a one-room schoolhouse for kindergarten through eighth grade.

The road from Destruction Bay off and on to Tok, Alaska, was the most challenging and brutal drive of the trip. It was my introduction to “frost heaves,” where the underground ice pushes the soil upwards, and the roads undulates, if you will, often without the pavement breaking up – although there was much damaged road surface through here as well. Overlook the heaves and the vehicle easily bottoms out, putting suspensions and clenched teeth at risk. During the daylight they’re not hard to spot, as the lines in the road are more obviously wavy in a very short distance. The Canadians even put orange flags in buckets on either side of the road to mark them.

That said, I found about half the time there was no problem where the flags were, and then I walloped hard into some unmarked spots with no warning. In either case, there are often skid marks leading into the heaves where trailers bounce their tires, I think. (Side note – afterwards, I posted on the Al-Can Facebook page my appreciation for the Royal Mounties painting black stripes at the frost heaves, getting yucks from many although one or two just thought I was an idiot and pointed out they were skid marks.) The right answer is to slow down, watch what’s happening with vehicles ahead, and adjust accordingly. But when you’re driving alone and there’s no passengers to alarm (or injure), and you remember that you bought RV insurance, you drive hard and fast to keep up with more rugged vehicles.

Bounced along behind a Nissan Xterra for a long time before they stopped for gas, and I had to lead the pack myself. Over years of long-distance driving, I’ve found in rain or snow that like the trite saying, once it’s your turn at the front of the pack, you’d literally better lead or get outta the way. I pushed the RV pretty good and only slowed down when I hit some hard bumps and my running shoes fell out of the overhead bunk onto my head, scaring the living hell out of me. My dash cam footage doesn’t do the rough road justice so I “borrowed” the shot below from the web. Bizarre, eh?

After the rough roads, the other significant challenge in the final hour approaching the Canada-US border was remembering I still had three apples in the cupboard. Customs gets agitated on the whole bringing fresh fruit across the border thing, and being that I’m pretty cheap, I choked down all three apples (one at a time) while still in Canada. Then I learned that there’s a good 15 miles or so from the international border to the actual US Customs and Immigration checkpoint and I had far more time to eat. Worse, I thought it would be funny to tell the border agent the whole story and he said I would have had no problem bringing the apples with me. I have no future as a smuggler.

My American arrogance was also shattered by my illusion that maybe the road would be better on the US side. It was not. I bumped and bounced my way to Tok, Alaska, my overnight rest stop and where I had already picked out a legit sports bar to watch Game 6 of the Celtics-Heat Conference finals. I knew I had to be in Tok by 4:30 local to catch the game and I was. Tok has about 1,200 residents and was big enough that I had my choice between the Tok Lodge Bar, Fast Eddy’s, and the Bear Den Lounge. I chose the latter and had a great meal and a few beers while watching the Celtics once again hold off elimination by only one point, amongst a sparse group of elderly regulars at the bar playing what I now know is called “pull-tab” gambling – buckets of tickets that are games of chance, pulling off tabs rather than scratch off lottery tickets, and are popular in bars and non-profits. Read somewhere that “If you see pull tabs in a bar, you know they have the best fried food.” They were not wrong. So far on the trip I learned about dabbing, German “potatoes and onions,” frost heaves, and pull-tabs.

After the game I sought out an RV camp. There were many in Tok, all with crappy websites and nobody answered the phones. I drove to my first, the Tundra RV Park and Bar, because it sounded up my alley. Had everything, including a bar where allegedly the locals go. When I met the lady at the front desk it was like a Monty Python skit. Wi-Fi? Unfortunately, it was down. Hot showers? Normally yes, today the water heater was out. How about the bar? Yeah, that’s not yet in season so not as such. Okay, I just need a site then with power hookup? Sorry, but the power’s down, that’s why there’s no wifi. Predictable, really, I suppose. It was an act of purest optimism to have posed the question in the first place. The kind lady sent me to another RV camp that was sure to have everything I needed, the Sourdough Campground and Café just south of town. Closed. You can check in and pick a site and pay in the morning, but no Wi-Fi password. No thanks.

I drove back into town and tried the Tok RV Village Campground. The lady there had just flipped the open sign to “closed” as I walked up the porch. Somehow, she sensed my exasperation and invited me in any way to book a site. I had ruled this place out because while they have many sites, they have perhaps only two or three with campfire rings and charge something like a $35 premium for those – overall double what I had been paying for RV camps. The total, including a bundle of firewood, was about the cost of a decent motel room. By then I would have paid $100 to have a place to stay. Enjoyed my evening in a largely deserted RV park with dinner, a beer or two, a campfire, catching up with emails over Wi-Fi, and some guitar time. An uneven but satisfying night back in the USA.

DAY 6 TOK TO ANCHORAGE 318 MILES 5.5 HOURS

By now I had the routine down of preparing the coffee pot the night before, powering it on at wake up and having some yogurt and a breakfast bar outside in the camp chair and hitting the bath house for a shower before methodically packing up for the drive. It was now second nature to unplug and store the shoreline before getting in the driver’s seat. If all went well, another 300 miles or so and I’d be in Anchorage.

The rain started and came down hard on southbound Hwy 1 out of Tok. I tailed some motorcycle riders all rain-geared up wondering how they do it. Near Slana, Alaska the highway parallels the Christochina River, and by the time I hit the near-halfway point of Glenallen the rains had stopped, and I pulled over for a run.

The town felt bigger than only a population of maybe 400 and was a nice stop. Its heyday was as a shortcut road from Tok to Anchorage constructed during WWII, rather than the northern route through Fairbanks. I had seven days to get the RV to Cruise America Anchorage and was going to complete it in six, having resisted the urge to make side trips along the way to bank a day for emergencies. Now it looked like I’d be done on time, if not early. Maybe I should have gone via Fairbanks and Denali?

The view from Highway 1 continued to be spectacular along the Matanuska River, with a whole range of snow-capped mountains always on my left. I even pulled over to take some pictures of the Matanuska Glacier, but it was starting to cloud up. Got surprised by another Cruise America RV that pulled in with a young French couple who were going to spend a month making the journey I was doing in six days. I think they got it more right. By the way, we Cruise America vagabonds wave at each other when passing, like Harley riders but not so tough looking.

Just a half-dozen feet below the overlook was a giant moose carcass that everyone thought to be a nice photo op, including me. On the route from Tok I had seen my first live ones along the road and was surprised one would come so close to a rest stop, only to be eaten by predators. Or campers?

Again, the scenery was pretty much the same as before, and by now it was repetitive – breathtaking. I descended from the hills and pulled off the highway in Eagle River for gas. The gas station was in a strip mall, and I felt a combination of melancholy and weariness with the trip nearly over. It was now down to finding an RV park in Anchorage for the night, figuring out what to do with my free day, and the administrative drudgery of packing up and preparing to fly home. I spent some time on the phone and found an RV park just east of Anchorage and drove there only to find it a dump. And closed.

Worked the phone some more checking out several RV parks in Anchorage proper. None had good reviews. Some reviews suggested that after-hours when the camp staff left, the hoboes and bears arrived. No thanks. The most promising was also right by the railroad tracks. I drove there, but it was closed and provided no afterhours provisions for Wi-Fi and was a bit expensive. Finally went to the Creekwood Motel and RV Park and was pleasantly surprised by an efficient and helpful man behind the desk that in minutes set me up with a corner spot and full hookup. The price was $60, less than I had spent the night before in Tok.

The Creekwood RV park is really a fenced in area along a creek behind the motel with a mixture of long term and overnight RV campers, and while I was a bit nervous there were no drifters or bears that I knew of. Ventured out for a celebratory takeout KFC meal from a restaurant a half mile away that went horribly wrong (wildly understaffed – the same guy manning the deep fryers was taking orders and carrying buckets of chicken out to cars full of very angry parents and frantic children) and it took almost an hour to get my food. But good chicken is worth the wait. With a full belly and a quiet campsite, I slept like a baby.

Bonus Drive – Seward R/T 254 MILES 4.5 hours

Woke up and poked around the outside of the RV to see if anything bad happened overnight, and all was well. Unfortunately, when I tried the bathhouse, it was filled with men showering and prepping as if they were headed off to work, so I retreated to make coffee and figure out my day. If you’re wondering, I’ve never been a big fan of showering in the half-dozen RV’s I’ve rented. My wife and I tried to shower (not together!) in my first RV rental at the Grand Canyon, only to learn without a leveling system it’s hit or miss on whether the water is going to go down the drain or over the shower basin and down the stairs. And it’s cramped with a small sink and toilet in the little closet with the shower. Just not worth it.

With a whole day ahead with no plans, I called an audible and made plans to drive to Seward, Alaska, for no other reason than to go running along Resurrection Bay. It seemed like a nice bookend to the drive from Destruction Bay. Route 9 from Anchorage to Seward is a twisty, hilly, and well-maintained road that resembles the right side of our large intestine in shape only it’s a thousandfold more scenic. After driving something like 2,300 miles in six days from Everett, Washington to Anchorage, Alaska, this 250-mile round trip felt like one of those ceremonial stages in the Tour de France where the outcome is decided, and the rider takes in the majesty of it all. I have no idea if that really happens in the Tour de France but that’s what it felt like.

When I parked and ran a few days earlier in Whitehorse there were signs prohibiting RVs from camping in public lots. For my run I scribbled a note and left it on the dash explaining I was out running, not camping, so please no tickets or towing? As I rolled into Seward, I thought it was going to be a hassle to find RV parking without paying a big fee, and instead cruised all the way to the Iditarod Mile Marker parking lot, where I parked for free overlooking the water. I ran from there all the way to the Seward Cruise Ship Terminal and back and was pleasantly annoyed to see countless RV sites with full power hookup and fire rings right on the water! That would have been so much more pleasant than the Anchorage hobo camp. Had I only known, and if I hadn’t been so tired when I rolled into Anchorage I would have loved to overnight in Seward. Add it to the “next time” list.

I drove back to Anchorage and checked into my Fairfield Inn for my final night in Alaska. Uneventful, beautiful afternoon drive back in order to make the Miami Heat-Boston Celtics NBA Eastern Conference Game 7. Love a game 7 even when I don’t care who wins. Great game and Miami ended the Celtics season with a dominant win, lined up to play Denver in the championship. I drove a few blocks to the Peanut Farm Restaurant and Sports Bar, the only patron there who arrived in an RV. Seemed odd.

Returned to the hotel and spent an hour unloading everything to the room to be sorted later. The original plan was to donate the coffee pot and camp chair to the Salvation Army as I’ve done before, but it was way across town. The kind lady at the hotel reception desk said the housekeeping staff would welcome my unopened food and water so that was easy. (Accidentally bought four giant family packs of Pop Tarts rather than four small boxes back in Washington, so had way too much there!) Cleaned and gassed the RV and stored the hub cap that had nearly fallen off in the rear bunk. All ready to check in the next morning, before flying out in the afternoon.

Day 8 RV Check In, Fly Home

Slept fairly well in a real hotel bed and even made it up for a hot breakfast. As fate would have it, the Cruise America location was almost exactly three miles from my hotel, and I needed one more three mile run before flying home. I dressed for a run and drove the RV to the lot. Backed it into a nice spot and went inside. Years ago, when I first rented from Cruise America, I had expected conflict over fluid levels, cleanliness, pre-existing scars on the body (RV – not mine), and so on, but was really surprised how accommodating they were. Same here.

The Cruise America lady thought I must have been an excellent driver to back the RV into a spot in their yard. I said no, I paid for insurance, and that made me just fearless. The staff took my extra camp chair and the coffee pot to give away for me. While I was waiting a European couple was turning in their RV and another renting one, so they did a turnover of all the unused supplies. What a nice gesture. The check in person tallied up my bill and refunded my deposit in minutes. And just like that I was done. I ran through the streets of Anchorage back to my hotel and took a moment to thank the good Lord for such a wonderful and safe journey. I really am blessed. Then I packed, napped, and took a shuttle to the airport for the redeye home.

Day 120 (That’s how long it has taken me to get around to writing this.)

Reflections. The itinerary was the best I could do within the constraints of my music commitment that prevented me from leaving home earlier in May, and the Cruise America deadline of having the RV in Anchorage by May 30th. I knew the schedule was compressed and I knew it would still be worth it. I still read and comment almost daily on the Alaska Highway / The Alcan / Cassiar Hiway Facebook page, an indication of how much of an impression the drive made on me. I did an after action for that page where I nudged them a little bit to not be so alarmist about how hard or bad the drive can be. I really was provisioned to spend three or four days holed up in the RV, or hike out 30 miles, if need be, and there’s no need for that. But I also said I wouldn’t take as gospel anyone’s commentary on the roads, including mine, that was more than 24 hours old. Someone just asked which route they should take, the Al-Can or the Cassiar (it gets asked almost every day), and I responded that there are only two acceptable responses; comments on how the routes compare in general, under identical weather conditions, or comments on how the road is today.

Nineteen states would fit inside Alaska. No offense, Texas. A bit intimidating?

I would do this trip again in a heartbeat, although I’m ready to include some down days to hike more and drive less. I could also see me doing it in an SUV and staying in motels, or even a Toyota Yaris and sleeping in the back (if I wasn’t 6’4”). The RV was a bit cumbersome for the 2,500 miles of driving and guzzled very expensive gas, and yet it sure was a welcome bed and kitchen every night. It was not a cheap trip and could have been done cheaper. The big three costs were the RV at $1,072, gas at $1,206, and air fare of $833 (I flew first class….it was a long way, and I am too old and too big for long flights in economy!) The whole trip cost me about $4,000 all in adding groceries, two sports bars, and booze for camp. That’s a lot for only a week, but what a week it was. Cruise America closes its Anchorage office in October. Thinking they will need those RV’s relocated south by then, and maybe I’ll figure out how to do it cheaper?

ABOUT CRUISE AMERICA

This was the large RV we rented for the Phoenix to Denver drive, my first RV rental. It had been prepped for sale, with all the Cruise America logos stripped.

A few years back I stumbled on Cruise America RV rentals, and more specifically, the Cruise America Rental Deals web page. I had planned to rent an RV to take my wife and daughter from Phoenix to Denver, seeing the Grand Canyon along the way, in December. Set aside the wisdom of it all, the original price tag was I think $1,600 for the week, all in. A few weeks beforehand I spotted on the Cruise America Rental Deals page an offer to relocate the same size RV from Phoenix to Denver, no one way fee, no mileage fee, and for only $19.99 a night. A stunner. I jumped on it and cancelled my original reservation. We did the trip (a whole story in itself, it was –11 in Denver.) When I turned in the RV the cost, with propane tank up and waste disposal, was $167. Ridiculous savings of $1,400.

On the left is my RV spot at the 24 Hours of Daytona, where we’ve rented RV’s three times. On the right is our rental for the 2022 Austin Formula 1 race.

Cruise America offers deeply discounted rates when RV’s need to be relocated. Relocations are needed when inventory is out of balance, RV’s are being sold, or best of all, when brand new ones come off the factory line near Chicago and need distribution around the country. My Phoenix RV had been refurbished for sale and for some reason was being sold in Denver. I rented another RV from Elkridge, Maryland to Orlando, Florida the same weekend as the 24 Hours of Daytona race and pretty much had a free RV for the race. I also lucked out that my best friend from high school and I are still very close and were attending the race together, and he’s a long-haul trucker who thrived on doing the driving.

The downside of the rental deals is they are rarely very far in the future, so it can be hard to plan. Works best if you’re opportunistic and ready to pounce if the itinerary you want surfaces when you’re ready to go. I’ve considered earmarking a week here and there and snagging an RV regardless of where it’s going! The best deals are to and from the hubs in Phoenix and Orlando, and off the factory line near Chicago. That said, today one popped up from Anchorage back to Seattle. I’ve learned the Cruise America office in Anchorage closes from October to I think April and RV’s need to get up there and back to meet the summer rental demand. I also worried the ones headed to Orlando or Phoenix for refurbishment would be trashed, but they have not been. Cruise America will also rent kitchen sets and bedding, but I’ve found it’s cheaper to raid Walmart upon arrival and donate the stuff when I’m done.

To illustrate the opportunities, here’s a rundown of what’s available as of this writing in late October. Try as I might I cannot keep this current – deals are just too perishable.

New Vehicle Relocation Deal
These come out of E Dundee, Illinois. Today there are seven RV’s ranging from Compact Plus to Large that need to go to California, Arizona, and Florida, with the latest deadline October 10th. Prices range from $49 to $69 a night. Cruise America advises, “Included with this very limited special are 200 miles per night, no one-way drop fees and there is a minimum charge of 7 rental nights per reservation. Maximum rental lengths may apply.” My weekend rental for Daytona was less than seven days so I just paid for seven and turned it in early. Here’s the link.

One Way Rentals
These are any two point-to-points. And since I started writing today the Alaska RV is gone! Seven more here, mostly headed to Florida. Unlike the other deals that specify a nightly rate these just indicate 75% off. Most are travel trailers today and the latest deadline is October 10th. Changes all the time. Here’s the link.

Relocation Out of Phoenix – $9 Night
These are crazy deals. No drop fee and lots of free miles. When I started this there were three, all from Phoenix, one to Los Angeles, one to San Francisco, and one to Manassas – NEAR MY HOME – and one includes a $600 fuel credit! If I only had the time I’d be all over this. None available now.. Bummer.

Relocation to Phoenix – $39 Night
Here’s five more that need to get home, ranging from San Diego to….Manassas. All of them due by October 6th with free miles and no drop fee. Here’s the link.

Relocation to Orlando – $39 Night
Same as Phoenix here’s five going back to the hub in Orlando. The link.

Relocation Out of Orlando – $9 Night
And finally, a pair of RV’s that need to move up I-95 to Manassas by October 6th. Crazy that you could rent one of these for $54 for the whole journey. The link, again.

Canadian One Way – $9 Night

And finally, here’s a real sweet long distance opportunity, Vancouver to Toronto – almost the width of Canada for $9 a night and free miles. Take weeks. This would be a hoot. Link here.

And that, my friends, is everything I can remember about this fantastic RV road trip. If you made it all the way through this piece I thank you. If there’s anything I can add or questions you have please email me. All the best – Chuck.