Alaska - Snow Camp #4: Whitefish
The Milepost.com - Fox to Manley
May 1, 2023
Along the first 73 miles of the Elliott highway there are only two designated camp spots on the map at milepost 11, beyond that a trailhead atop Wickersham Dome at milepost 28, after that provisions for camping or resupply on the Dalton highway are sparse for 414 miles to Prudhoe Bay.
Fortunately, we had not yet dipped into our food stores giving us about 7 days to explore up North after leaving Fox. Plus, we had one more recommendation from the hotel owner in Fairbanks to stop at a “great place for pie” at the top of the hill just outside of Fox, qualified by “and it’s a HILL”. By the time the road sign came into view, we were still climbing, and had not stopped climbing from the moment we left the RV park driveway. Appropriately named, Hilltop, it was indeed a prime stop for truckers, travelers and locals alike, a diner/market/gift shop/gas station, open 7-5, 7 days a week, we made it in time to have a quarter pound burger each and took hefty pieces of blueberry and apple crumb pie to enjoy at camp.
Leaving the cafe, we were finally heading down hill, but after the third corner, seeing yet another descent, we started to dread the climb back out even more than the initial ascent. We sailed past rustic cabins covered in plywood and flapping sheets of Tyvek, crushed mail boxes dangling from snapped 4x4 beams that didnt survive the snow plows, and one curious signpost for Olnes, Population 1 at the bottom of the hill. Most driveways were plowed down to dirt but many side roads were still a frozen bed of white. Spring was clearly a few days behind in the North.
We stopped at the bridge to admire the Chatanika River still locked in smooth sheets of ice, before we peered down the entrance road to Whitefish campground. There was evidence of only one vehicle’s failed attempt to make it down the hill which meant we would most likely have the place to ourselves. We chatted with a couple that had stopped at the bridge on a quest for signs of river “break-up”, a much anticipated event indicating winter is finally letting go (promptly followed by betting on the start of “green-up” as Spring gets underway).
Shoving our front tires into the snow bank, I waited atop the hill while Nivaun began the search for a spot to camp. After traversing both ends of the campground, he found the one and only bare spot underneath an evergreen next to the river, alongside the Pavilion. And so began our third snowtage of the trip, breaking trail through a foot or more of snow as we went, first with our paniers, and then returning to push one bike at a time.
Once camp was set, we sat back in our folding chairs to enjoy hot coffee and pie and watch the ducks, ravens and a hawk fly up and down the river. In spite of the squirrels atop the evergreen towering above us, protesting our presence quite loudly for what seemed almost an hour, our minds were set on staying at least another day to enjoy our river-side oasis amdist the snow.
