I’m trying to remember now exactly how many years ago it was…probably about 4 years, I’d guess, #1 Daughter decided she wanted to move.  She decided to move from Colorado to Alaska.

At that time, she owned a 1983 Ford Ranger.  It’s color was rust and primer.  It was a four speed with the stick shift on the floor.  You could watch the road pass underneath your feet.  It’s top speed was 50 MPH.

She called it her “Pony.”

#1 Daughter loaded all her earthly possessions (after a garage sale and trips to the thrift store to make donations) into the bed of that truck and was going to drive the Alaskan Highway all the way to Anchorage.

She asked me if I would go with her.

I jumped at the chance!

Under normal circumstances, this trip would take 3(ish) days.  It took us ten.

We left Colorado on an afternoon and made it to Cheyenne, Wyoming for the first days drive.  The truck was struggling along the “hills” between Ft. Collins, Colorado and Cheyenne.  We were averaging 30 MPH on the highway.

That little truck was fun to drive but it had a hard time keeping speed on any type of incline.  We pulled into our hotel and grabbed some dinner and then hit the sack.  It had been a long day.

We were up and out of there early the next morning.  We drove about 7 hours the next day.  When the roads were flat, we were able to push the truck along at its 50 MPH max.  As soon as we hit any type of hill, it was back to 30.

We continued this pattern until we reached Boseman, Montana.  We had stayed the night at a Days Inn (I think).  We hit the hotel breakfast, grabbed a cup of coffee for the road and went out to the truck.

It wouldn’t start.

Now, this truck had a mind of its own and we tried every trick we knew to encourage it to start.  It was a no go.

#1 Daughter stayed with the truck and I went back into the hotel.  The breakfast area was packed and me, not being shy, announced very loudly, “We are having trouble getting our truck to start.  Is anybody here a mechanic?”

Nobody was BUT the manager knew of a place just down the road that might be able to help.

This is how the REAL adventure began.

The auto place brought a tow truck over and took the truck literally across the street.  They took a car off of the lift and put our poor little vehicle up there.  It would need one part.

They special ordered the part and instead of waiting for it to be delivered, they drove and went and got it themselves.

They did not gouge us for money.  They were super nice!  If you ever get around Boseman, Montana, area, I recommend a stop.  Good people.

Three hours after I made my announcement in the breakfast area, we were on the road.

We reached the Canadian boarder.  #1 Daughter was nervous.  The people at the crossing could tell so we had to pull over.

We were told to go get in a line inside and do some legal stuff.  I can’t really remember what it was.  What I do remember is getting our passports stamped and going outdoors to find them strip searching the truck!

THAT was a surprise!

They didn’t find anything and begrudgingly re-packed the truck and sent us on our merry way.

Finally, we reached Dawson Creek, the official start of the Alaskan Highway.  We stopped for pics and then giddily hit the road.

We had heard some pretty awful stories about not being able to find gas and bad road conditions.  MFH (My favorite Husband) had made sure we had a gas can for this part of the trip.  We filled it up (never had to use it) and drove on.

British Columbia literally took our breath away!  It was so pretty!!!  The roads weren’t as bad as we had been led to believe so we were zipping right along when it wasn’t hilly.

We made it to Yukon Territory.  This is where we stayed at the creepiest place ever.  It was also the cleanest place we stayed!  The owner though….long story.  I will never, ever, stay there again.

After that weird first night in Yukon Territory, we did it.  We hit the biggest hole EVER!

BAM!

Our heads hit the top of the inside of the truck!  I mean, this was one. big. hole.

The truck was still running so we kept on driving.

Later on that morning, we stopped for gas and something to eat.  We went back to the truck and started it.  It made the most awful grinding noise you have ever heard in your life!  We finally got it going and kept on driving a few more hours.

We made another stop.  This time, the noise was worse and we couldn’t get it to start.

It was super cold.  We didn’t have any cell phone reception so we went inside.

We found ourselves explaining the situation to the lady that owned the “gas station.”  She was busy cooking and told us her husband was feeding the horses but would be back in a half hour.  We were welcome to stay inside and keep warm.

Her husband finally arrived and looked at the truck.  He crawled under the truck to see what was up.

Now, these people we soft spoken.  Reserved.  We had been commenting to each other about this when we heard an explosive, “SHIT!” come from underneath the truck.

Uh-oh.

This nice man told us that the bell housing was cracked.  He was going to push start us out of his business and we were to keep driving until we got to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory.  If we had to stop for gas, we were NOT to turn of the truck.

We nodded.  Yes, sir.

He took his very pretty, very new pick up truck and bumped the back of our tired Ford Ranger with the nose of his pretty new truck until we were able to engage the clutch and get ‘er going.

We were off!

We literally rolled into our hotel in Whitehorse.  Very pretty town!

The rest of that day was spent calling mechanics.  We were trying to find someone who could weld the bell housing.  We were going to have to replace the transmission and a bunch of other stuff if we couldn’t find somebody to do the welding.

Nobody would do it, that is until we talked to this one place…

The next morning, we discovered we had parked on an incline.  We were going to jump start the truck and pop the clutch and drive to that last place we had talked to.  We had an appointment.

It was pretty tough going due to that incline!  Pushing a pickup truck up an incline by yourself…getting it going fast enough….it wasn’t pretty.  Finally, I caught the eye of a group of teen guys that had been enjoying the show and I collared them into pushing the truck for us.

We found the mechanic and funny thing, he said the exact same thing the nice man that owned the gas station said!  “SHIT!”

There was a crack about 2.5″ in the housing.  It was too big to weld.  Boo.

BUT, he had some fancy new tools he had been wanting to play with that would be perfect for this job.  This kind man made a sleeve that wrapped around the housing.  It squeezed the housing shut.

He didn’t charge us a dime.

He kinda winked at us and wished us good luck on our trip.  He had told us how he was out on probation.  He had been in a bit of trouble in the US and was no longer welcome in the States.  NOT that he would hold that against us!  He was awesome!!!   🙂

As a last warning, though, he told us to avoid bumps because he didn’t know how long the sleeve would hold.

We were super careful after that.

We reached Alaska and went through customs again.  The guy at the gate looked at us and the truck and asked, “You guys drove THAT thing!?!”

The two of us laughed and assured him that we were fine and drove away.

We reached Anchorage the next day and the day after that, #1 Daughter dropped me off at the Anchorage airport and I flew home to Mississippi.

Leaving her there, all by herself, not knowing a soul, no job….it was tough.

We cried and hugged at the gate.  Soon, I was in the air, on my way home to MFH.

It had been an adventure to be sure!  The sights we had seen.  The road accidents we had witnessed (one fatality).  The super Canadians!!!  What an awesome adventure!

(Within 3 days, #1 Daughter had secured herself a job and a place to live.  All worked out well.)