Got word from our work-camping employer.   Still no water available and it is supposed to snow today.  Her reaction was UGH.  My reaction was OMG…NO water?  Yes, we have a water tank in our box-on-wheels but one week is our max and even then, we were able to drive to Flying J and shower a few times a week.  Oh yea, we’ll be livin’ the life… as stinky dirt balls!

Dawson Creek is a scruffy town.  The Mile “0” RV Park is a scruffy RV Park.  We are on an uneven site that faces businesses with the main road only 3 sites up, no fences anywhere.  Bathrooms are playhouse size, no ability to bend in the showers, no consistent Wi-Fi, not a place we will stay again.   The town’s saving grace is Wal-Mart and Safeway.  Both are small and sparsely stocked.  Everyone we meet is Alaska bound.  Spending the next two days doing household chores, groceries, washing the road grime off Ribbit and getting things back in place.   Quick stop at the Mile “0” flags that mark the beginning of the Alaska Highway.   Glad to be on our way in the morning.

Beautiful weather for our full day of travel.   Snow plows in winter causing road lines to disappear, then reappear then fade away again with only a faint yellow hue to mark the center divide.  Makes driving a big RV a bit scary.

Mountains, rolling hills and acres of farm lands with snow white shrink wrapped hay bales lining the fences.  John pointed out scattered handfuls of cows in the pasture and said, that must be where pasteurized milk comes from…cows  standing in pastures.  Yes dear, whatever you say dear.

A leg stretch stop at Tetsa for a taste of their famous cinnamon rolls.  The owner, a throw back from the 1947 era, was a friendly gent who was eager to pass on any information of service to travelers, including the condition of the roads.  He was also a jolly prankster and his thoughts were in print scattered around the small cozy café and spilled over onto his gas pumps outside.

We have passed dozens of signs for moose, elk and bear.  Still wondering when we will see the signs telling us when the next showing will be and where.   So far we have seen, but not been able to snap photos of, two wolves at the edge of the trees, one large moose standing in the river (but nowhere to stop), one large moose standing on the side of the road, one deer’s butt going into the trees and a dozen or more animal carcasses in road side ditches.  We also passed the lead trailer in a caravan who, moments before, flipped his trailer attached to his double dooly truck.  10 wheels weren’t enough to keep him grounded in his fifth wheel.   A few miles down, a reasonably new trailer lie on the side of the road, shattered into pieces.  A harsh reminder of what bad road conditions and strong winds can do if you don’t slow down and stay in control.

A light lunch and social chat with the owners of historic Bucking Horse River Lodge, mile 175, former barracks for the builders of the Alaska Highway.  It is now a restaurant, motel and cabins.   The owners have the place up for sale so they can retire.  Pictures line the walls and depict the history of the building, faded memories of all the characters that passed through, some still frequent the café.  One famous character, a 17 year old cowboy, stayed for two weeks during inclement weather on his ride from Alaska to Mexico on horseback with his dog and extra pack horses.  His journey made the national news and is talked about with reverence still.

Spent the night on a roadside province garbage turn-out.   Not my idea, not doing it again.

Fantastically awesome 9 hour drive.

A long steep winding slope into the valley and a delightful quiet lunch by the bluest lake I have ever seen.  It looked like someone had added blue coloring to the water.  The ice crunched and moaned as it broke up under the suns warming rays.

Saw dozens of signs warning us of the Bison but all we saw were hundreds of their gigantic plops for miles.  In the distance, RV’s were stopped with signals flashing, a sign that wild animals were close by.  That was the beginning of the sightings of herds all along the highway.  Some of the larger males would stand in the middle of the road, just because they could.   Saw so many of them that we stopped counting at 40 and stopped taking their pictures so as not to overload on one animal.

The Bison marked the beginning of our wild animal adventure.  From then on, it was sightings of some four legged wild thing every few miles all the way to Watson Lake, Yukon.

Another pause in our journey lead us to a warmer part of the Yukon.   At least is was warmer if you were submerged in the water of the hot springs.  Liard River Hot Springs just happened to be a short walk from the main road so we stopped to let John sooth his bones in the sulfur laced waters while I walked the many wooden boardwalks that moseyed through the area.

Today was like driving through a humongous zoo without fences.   So up close and personal you could reach out and touch them…if you were nuts enough to want that kind of trouble.   We saw a man get out of his car and approach a mama bear and two cubs.…you just can’t fix stupid.

Spent the night attached to the local café in Watson Lake, power and water included, as the RV park was not open.  No Wi-Fi or cable.  Real life had to be dealt with so the balance of the 17 hours of daylight was spent cleaning the windshield (snow on the wipers as John finished) and cleaning up all pieces of things that fell off our counters from the horribly pounding of the tires on the pot holes, bumps and separations in the roads.   This road is not for people with back problems.

Before bedtime John did a little repairing to another “it’s always something” and his handy work left us with an interesting alteration.  We now have peep holes in the night shade.

No dump station, showers cost $3.00 Canadian for 10 minutes and are tiny so we did the Girl/Boy Scout washcloth thing and went to sleep when it finally got dark.