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Journal Entry, March 13th On the road! After three days at the ISE show, we had Monday to change out the fluids and pack the truck. Of course I was my typical optimistic self about fitting everything in the truck and trailer. Well, we did fit everything, but could not have added one loaf of bread in the space left over. The first thing that amazed Chris and me was how well the truck was running on the highway, despite weighing over 7,700 lbs. GCWR. The smooth-riding ATs and the 5.29 gears was the right combination, and we managed nearly 600 miles before stopping south of Nephi. We had the EeziAwns deployed in a few minutes and I fell asleep with the sound of I-15 rumbling in the background.
borders, and I had thought Canada would be all smiles and ehs welcoming our visit. No, we were getting questioned more by the Mounties than I did at a military checkpoint on the Algerian border. Pasquale was next, passing Chris as they traded seats. Then came my turn, and the officer honed in on my time in service, asking about which base I was stationed at, was I deployed overseas, etc. Then he stood up and said, Welcome to Canada, and with that we were blazing north to find the first green beer we could order for Saint Patricks Day. To break up the drive a bit, and experience some suitable winter adventure sport, we drove to Canmore, Alberta, for an ice climbing lesson. We had booked the day with Sarah, a world-class climber and one of the Yamnuska Mountain Guides. Excited to escape the cab of the Tacoma, we loaded up our gear and headed to Cascade Falls, a grade three route just south of town. Once we began trusting the crampon points the climbs came easy, and Chris and I knocked off several fun routes. With a half-days rest, we climbed back in the truck and drove down the hill to Calgary and a meal with the members of the Rocky Mountain Cruiser Cluba first-class group of Toyota fans. From Calgary, it was all about making mileage, and we drove for days with stops only for sleep. Arriving at the start of the Alcan (Alaska-Canadian) Highwaywas a major milestone, but only afforded enough time to take a few pictures and grab a cup of coffee before moving on to Whitehorse.
Whitehorse
After driving for days on the Alcan, each town barely registering as a blip in our daya stop for expensive fuel, cheap coffee, a slice of brown bread, and the flirtation of WiFi (travelers note: a sign indicating Wireless Internet is not a guarantee of actually connecting to the internet)Whitehorse came as more than a surprise. First, it was much bigger than we expected, and it has great coffee, real WiFi, and more than a few excellent resources. The downtown area has great character, a decent sushi place, the Edgewater Hotel, located along the Yukon River, and most important of all, The Kanoe People, a family-run outfitting company that specializes in expeditions farther north. They also rent personal locator beacons (PLB), which would be our only means of calling for help once on the ice. We performed a full inspection on the truck, and rearranged the trailer by putting the lighter sleeping bags and clothing on the bottom, and moving the survival gear and Arctic supplies to the top. We also topped off both of the trucks fuel tanks (18-gallon main, 22-gallon auxiliary) and the trailers jerry cans (10 gallons) in preparation for the push to the Dempster. As we would discover, finding fuel, or more bad coffee, would not be that difficult.
The Dempster
The Klondike Highway is a well-maintained road, and proved to be not only exceptionally scenic, but also an easy segment of our journey. This allowed us to subtract nearly a day from our schedule, as we covered the Klondikes entire length in only five hours. So, with a camp in Dawson City not needed, we topped off the fuel tanks a few minutes before the gas station closed, and turned north on the Dempster Highway, despite warnings from the shopkeeper that weather was moving in and the Dempster was closed. We decided to air down the tires on the truck and trailer. This would improve the ride quality on the uneven route, and also increase our traction on the irregular ice found farther north. Then we started up the 417-mile-long gravel road, looking for a place to camp. Camping on the Dempster in winter is not an easy task, mostly because people dont camp on the Dempster in winter. All the campgrounds were closed, and deep snow prevented access to any side trail or rest area. We continued to drive, growing more concerned as the sun began to set, casting a rosecolored glow across the roads surface, the distant mountains standing in sharp detail against the bent and broken spruce that created a corridor to the north. We scanned the sides of the road looking for a trail, even a pull-out that would provide protection from the building wind and 24-hour truck traffic. Luckily, we found a side road that led into a stand of trees, apparently used by loggers to collect wood for heating the homes in Dawson City. We pulled back into the trees and shut off the motor. It would be well below zero that night, and we would have to trust that our large battery, synthetic drivetrain fluids, and the Toyotas toughness would allow it to start in the morning. We deployed the roof tents, climbed inside, and cooked dinner
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Dempster
Overland Journal Winter 2007
Journal Entry, March 23rd Despite the lack of clouds, the sky has almost no color, a muted shade of lavender punctuated by the near-stick-like spruce trees, coated in frost, stunted and packed tightly together. It is so dry that my eyes itch and my nose stings when taking a long breath. Animals seen so far: Lynx, Fox, Wolves, Coyote, Caribou, Moose, Bison, Willow Ptarmigan, Ravens.
and brewed chai on two stoves perched on a Storm case. Despite the heat from the stoves, we were still wearing our heavy jackets, the condensation from our breath billowing like smoke from our lungs. The cold, dry air was already beginning to take its toll. The idea of camping at well below zero had sounded like fun in Arizona, but in practice the results were much less glamorous. As soon as the sun set, or with even the lightest breeze, our time spent outside the vehicle or tent was measured in minutes. Being desert dwellers, our skin, our lungs and even our eyes where ill-equipped for the cold, and our heads would retreat inside the sleeping bags to retain every ounce of moisture exhaled. We awoke well before dawn, and with the HID driving lights puncturing the distance we rolled north. The air was perfectly still, and save for the road we were driving on there was no other sign of man: no buildings, no aircraft, no other vehicles. For hours, we continued north without encountering another soul; we were completely alone. Well, not completely, as the silence and lack of traffic had emboldened the fauna on this desolate piste. Pure white ptarmigans erupted from the side of the road as we passed, completely camouflaged against the snow. A fox crossed directly in front of us, his fur a deep red, and full, and in a moment he had cleared the snow bank and was off into the brush, leaving the three of us scrambling for cameras and feeling more than a bit slow. Of all the animals this far north, the one I wanted to see the mosteven more than a polar bear was a wolf, to have the chance to lay eyes on one of the planets most cunning and accomplished carnivores. My chance would come. The Dempster can best be described as purity of purpose, a narrow thread of a gravel roadbed built several feet above the permafrost and tundra, and heading as straight as possible to its goal: Inuvik and the rich oil fields above the Arctic Circle. Fortunately, the scenery is nothing less than breathtaking, and every kilometer yields a new vista, a change in flora, or a scurry of fauna. For 735 kilometers, its length is only interrupted once, by the fuel stop at Eagle Plains. Eagle Plains is also where they often close the road north, because of frequent storms and whiteout conditions. Dont expect a town there, as Eagle Plains is only a small collection of metal buildings, their sole purpose to service passing vehicles. A gas station (run by the lady in the bar), a repair shop, and a motel with cafeteria, all with a heavy 70s feel. The place just felt odd, and not only because the first item for sale on their billboard was ICE. The lady in the bar confidentially informed Pasquale that the mountains to the west were not real, only a figment of our imagination. Fearing that another few minutes in Eagle Plains would really have us seeing things, we jumped in the truck and continued north, passing through the open gate with no warning of things to come. As we would find out later, the gates should have been closed hours before our arrival. The road crew monitoring the winds and white-out just a few hundred kilometers north simply forgot. So our solo white Toyota slipped past Eagle Plains and north to the Arctic Circle, our second major milestone of the trip. The wind was already building, and we pulled masks over our faces and big gloves onto our hands. We could barely see the sign welcoming our arrival at N66 33, as the truck rocked from the gusts. I think we spent less than five minutes there, our eyes tearing from the biting wind, no longer able to see through the viewfinder, the howling blasts stealing our words of celebration, our concern building. The Tacoma wouldnt move, despite the throttle Chris was applying. The engine revved against an unknown obstacle, then suddenly let loose with a wild crack, truck and trailer lurching forward. Certain something had failed; I jumped from the truck and went to investigate. Had my most trustworthy of vehicles let us down in a rising storm? Crawling around on the frozen surface I saw nothing out of place, and I even double-checked the CV axles, certain they were the culprit. The wind grew more wild and fierce, and sent me retreating to the cab, filling it with blowing snow. Go ahead and drive again, Chris, I said, between wiping my running nose and tearing eyes. Again, a violent crack as he pulled away, and with it a revelation: The tires, warm from the previous hours driving, had frozen to the surface. Relievedat least somewhatwe continued north, deeper into the storm. We should have stopped, since there were several pullouts along the way, and visibility had dropped to just a few feet, the wind carrying a sheet of white nearly horizontally across our field of view. We had heard rumors of these storms lasting for days and actually turning over trucks. Instead we switched drivers quickly and I continued north, our progress measured 10 feet at a time, the distance between the snow plow poles that lined our side of the road. Inching forward, a pole would come into view and we would move toward it, pass it, and then see nothing for a few moments before the next pole would break the whiteout. For 20 miles this continued as we snaked along the twisting ridgeline that slowly dropped toward Fort McPherson. At last the visibility began to increase, along with it our speed and confidence.
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Journal Entry, March 25th Mush! Well... at least that is what we thought we were supposed to yell. But it turns out that "mush" isn't really the thing to shout and "go doggies!" works just fine. Give a light press on the braking pad and say "Chee" to turn right and "Chaa" to turn left. Judi Falsnes of Arctic Chalet has some very fine dog sledding teams and they hauled us around this arctic wonderland for the ride of our lives. We were lucky enough to sled with a cross-breed of Alaskan malamute and Siberian husky. They are pure white and I would consider them to be the "Land Cruiser" of sled dogs. They aren't the fastest, but they will just keep running forever.
In the distance we saw a parked truck, its yellow lights flashing, clearly waiting for us. A young, smiling Inuit man was sitting in the truck, his cheeks full and lightly frost-nipped. We slowed to a stop alongside and were greeted with a Hello, and, You guys okay? followed by, You know, you guys were the last to make it through Eagle Plains before they closed the road, eh? All we could get in was a Yeah, before his eyes lit up and he said, There are wolves here, just up on the hill, protecting a fresh caribou kill. I watched them take it. With that, my eyes lit up too, and I was clamoring to get out of the truck with my camera. With emphasis, he added, There were four of them during the kill. I can only see two now. Not really a warning against checking them out, but a friendly comment, most likely needed for our survival. We were way down the food chain here, and surrounded by elements and animals that could kill in a moment. The man was patient with us, incredibly kind in sharing information on what he had seen, and pointing to where the wolves were, his eyes trained to the terrain. And there they were, resting at the top of a ridgeline, their heads, eyes, and ears trained in our direction, but certainly not showing much concern. Actually, more of a taunting look, it seemed to me. Seeing them on the ridge, only a hundred yards away, was a powerful experience. I was humbled to be in their presence. The road worker followed us the last few miles to the northern gate and let us through and on our way to Inuvik, locking the gate behind. It would remain locked for the next two days. We had been lucky.
Inuvik
Pushing farther north, we arrived in Inuvik a full day early, which allowed us some time to thaw out in a cabin and prepare for the final push to lands end. We had reservations at the Arctic Chalet, which had several excellent cabins with, incredibly, mostly functional WiFi, and about 30 fluffy malamutes. With a day to spare, we booked a dog sled ride with Judi and her malamute/husky teams. I have a big soft spot for dogs in general, but especially the Arctic breeds (we own a 132-pound Malamute named Yukon), so going on the dog sled route was pure and absolute fun. My cheeks were hurting more from smiling than the cold, and we laughed, fell over, and got dragged behind the teams for over two hours. What a thrill. There is just something about working with dogs; the activity strikes deep within our nature, supported by 10,000 years of symbiotic partnership with mans best friend. Judi and Olav were also a huge help with our planning for the trek farther north, and she called in a favor for us, arranging a day with a polar bear hunter named Joe in Tuktoyaktuk. Things were shaping up nicely, and the next morning we would be within sight of our goal.
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Journal Entry, March 26th The cold creeps in quickly on the frozen sea, with no land to break the winds path, not a tree within a dozen miles for shelter. It is 23F and the sun is setting against the expanse of frozen ocean beyond our view, the crumpled surface reflecting the suns auburn hue across fissures of ice cracked from the pressures of the ebbing sea. Despite our discomforts, we are humbled by the fact that Joe, our Inuit guide, maintains a hunting igloo 30 miles farther into the Arctic Ocean, where he insulates himself with twin caribou hides laid skin to skin and covered with a 4X down blanket. We spent the day in Tuktoyaktuk with Joe and his family, sharing in their stories, myths, and a meal, the silence broken by their son Larsen playing Folsom Prison Blues with his hair greased back and wearing a white button-down shirt.
portantly, thick. Driving on the ice road was in fact easier than driving on the Dempster: it was flat, and the turns were wide and easy. Our confidence grew and so did our speed. Lands end was approaching. The Mackenzie River begins to split into a wide delta as it nears the Arctic Ocean, and the land loses much of its elevation, becoming nearly flat and difficult to distinguish from the level of the ice. Calling it a river doesnt quite do the Mackenzie justice, as it is monstrous, the longest river in Canada and when combined with its headstreams the second-longest river in all of North America at 4,241 kilometers (2,635 miles) in length. The delta untethered us from the proximity of land, and all that lay before us was ice, delta, and Arctic Ocean frozen together in an unbroken layer out to the sheer point, the place where polar bears stalk the fractured and broken ice, the point where the sea is too deep and too violent to form a solid layer of ice. We were less than 1,500 miles from the North Pole.
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Arctic Trip
Route
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Journal Entry, March 29th There is no way I can possibly describe everything that has happened since we left Tuktoyaktuk. I have been humbled and awed by what I have seen and experienced. Some of the highlights: We successfully navigated a very remote route between the Mackenzie ice road and the town of Ft. MacPherson. Along this route, we stopped at a great little place called Aklavik. That was the last outpost we would see before Ft. MacPherson 120 miles later with only the Peel River to guide us. We encountered no one along the way. We watched Caribou battling in the snow. That evening, I saw the Northern Lights for the very first time. We ended up camping along the Dempster about half way between Eagle Plains and mile 0. The temperature dipped very low, at least -23F which is where our digital gauge seems to bottom out. It was likely -47F based on numbers from other people. We are in Whitehorse this morning and are headed out for the Cassiar Highway. We have a long way to go on our journey south.
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The Aurora
Our arrival in Fort MacPherson signaled the end of the ice roads, and in our minds the end of the adventure. From that point, we would only have the long trek back south, retracing over 4,000 miles of winter road conditions to home. However, the Arctic still held a surprise. As we headed south on the Dempster, my only regret was that we had not seen the Aurora Borealis. It was late, and the cab was quiet, the silence lightly broken by whatever music played from the iPod. I was driving, and just inside my peripheral vision I caught a glimpse of green. I slowed down and looked over my shoulder to the northand stared, my eyes transfixed on the most amazing display of light and color I have ever witnessed. It was like the combination of 20 years of grand finales dancing across the horizon. It was the Aurora, and we came to a stop in the middle of the road and stepped out of the truck to watch in silent wonder. The Arctic had bid us the most magnificent of farewells.
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4. Fluids: Use 0W30-grade synthetic engine oil, and lighter synthetic gear grades as well. We used a Wolverine 50-watt oil pan heater to run off 12V and a 250-watt unit for shore power. The transmission was fitted with a 125-watt unit. wolverineheater.com 5. Lighting: Winter brings long nights, and for periods in December and January the Arctic is cast into nearly complete darkness. We used IPF HID lighting to extend driving hours and ensure sufficient visible distance to eliminate animal strikes. We combined two HID lights on the bumper with four halogen spot beams on the roof.
Personal Equipment
As three guys from the Southwest, we learned a lot about personal equipment, and some of it the hard way. The expensive North Face equipment did not work as advertised, but the less expensive Columbia Titanium gear exceeded our expectations. This was particularly true of the manufacturers comfort rating. Our 20F-rated North Face boots left our toes frozen at 10, while Pasquale stayed comfortable in the same conditions in a pair of identically rated Columbia boots (and he was even more stationary). Here is what worked: 1. Layers: Youve heard it before, but layering is essential. We used Minus 33 brand wool base layers and then a series of Columbia layers, including fleece and wool. Avoid cotton. 2. Protecting your skin: Products such as Mustela with beeswax work well. The dry conditions require constant evaluation of skin and eye condition. Those with contacts will suffer the most. 3. Protecting your lungs: I did not use a balaclava for most of the trip, and my lungs suffered severely as a result. It took several weeks before I could take a full breath pain-free. Use a balaclava to rebreathe warm, moist air. 4. Survival bag: Prepare for the worst event (like the vehicle falling through the ice) with a bugout bag filled with survival essentials, including a personal locator beacon (PLB), dry clothes, emergency water, food, shelter, and a compact down sleeping bag. Each of us had a bag handy in the cab. 5. Good boots: One of the products that failed to perform was our expensive boots. Research the performance of the brands you are interested in, beyond the manufacturers claims. We found that different boots with the same rating performed differently. I also recommend a good pair of down-filled booties, which will make a big difference for sleeping. We used 700-down-filled booties with rubber soles for camping. 6. Quality sleeping bag and liner: One of our two Alps Mountaineering 20F bags split out a zipper, and both Chris and Pasquale experienced severe cold spots. I had better success with my traditional Coleman canvas 0F bag and a 15 fleece liner. If specifying for this trip again, we would use bags with much lower ratings and higher-quality construction. 7. Organization: Keep the cab and storage areas organized and easy to access. At these distances and temperatures, efficiency is key to morale and comfort.
Requirements
The Arctic is a volatile region. Travelers can expect intense temperature variations, white-out conditions, frequently closed roads, and poor infrastructure. Obtaining spare parts and having them installed can take days or weeks. Repairs in the field can be deadly. So, as a traveler, proper preparation of the vehicle and team can mean the difference between enjoying the Northern Lights and coming home minus a few toes.
6. Chains: In winter, a trip to the Arctic from the continental U.S. will require thousands of miles of road driving. Many areas require chains to negotiate mountain grades, and it is a good idea to have them regardless. Quick installation is also critical at sub-zero temperatures. We used the new Thule tire chains for fast set-up and good traction performance on ice and snow. konig.it 7. In-cab air temperature: Keep the truck cabin cool, to prevent large swings in temperatures as you enter and exit the vehicle. This also helps reduce condensation on camera lenses. Overall, it is safer and more efficient to wear extra layers while driving, just in case a quick exit is required. 8. Water temperature gauge: The gauge provided by the vehicle manufacturer is not sufficient to monitor coolant temperature. In the Arctic, it is essential to ensure that the engine gets warm enough to promote efficient combustion and proper operation. We used a Scan Gauge II to monitor the engine and transmission status. scangauge.com (OBDII vehicles only) 9. Spare parts: Talk with other owners of your model vehicle and determine the parts most likely to fail at your mileage (plus 20 percent) and either replace the components or carry spares. A spare alternator, all belts and hoses, fuel filter, critical fuses and relays, and known failure components should comprise a minimum spares kit. Know how to change them all in the field using the tools you carry in the vehicle. At 20F, there is little time for troubleshooting. Consider bringing a tent heater and tarp to make a temporary work-space shelter. 10. Code reader: For OBDI and II vehicles, a code reader can be a trip saver. In Whitehorse my truck displayed a check engine light, which proved to be nothing but a loose gas cap. Being able to diagnose issues quickly and bring in the right parts is a real time saver. scangauge.com
Vehicle Preparation
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Proper vehicle choice, preparation, and inspection is absolutely essential to a successful Arctic trip, especial as a solo vehicle. Accounts of other trips to this region are littered with dead batteries, cooling system failures, doors frozen shut, and seized engines. Here is our top ten must-do list for a long-distance Arctic adventure. 1. Reliability: Vehicle reliability is vital, so proper service is paramount. Start with a high-quality vehicle, designed for operation in harsh climates and over long distances of rough roads. Research the cold-weather testing performed by the manufacturer of your vehicle. All Toyota trucks are tested to 60F; other manufacturers typically employ much less stringent standards. 2. Batteries: Install two, large-capacity batteries and keep them isolated when the motor is not running. We installed a group-31 and group-24 AGM Lifeline battery in the truck with a heavyduty relay. Even at 40F, the truck always started immediately, and we had a spare that could jump or assist the main if needed. 3. Low-glass-rated tires: Make sure that the tires fitted to the vehicle have a glass rating (the point at which rubber becomes a solid and can fracture) below your predicted operating range. The BF Goodrich All-Terrains we had fitted are good to at least 60F. Use an all-terrain tread design with siping for good performance on ice and wet roads. Overland Journal Winter 2007
TRIP PLANNING
8. Canon cameras: For four weeks, 4,000 images, and 28 hours of HDV footage, we had no failures in the camera equipment. Chris and I used Canon 20D prosumer bodies with Canon L lenses (24-105mm and 70-200mm). Pasquale used XLH1 and XHG1 high-definition video cameras with PortaBrace covers. 9. Good food and liquids: Stick with high-quality foods and lots of warm liquids (avoid restaurants). We used a Jetboil (see stove test, this issue) to simplify preparing tea and coffee. Healthy snacks kept the drivers nourished and prevented big swings in blood sugar. 10. Good tent: We used Eezi-Awn roof tents for the entire trip, and although they were not designed for Arctic conditions, they never failed us, and always provided a comfortable place to sleep. The canvas walls also fractionally improved insulation, along with the standard thick mattresses. traffic due to common weather issues (including white-outs in our case). Fort McPherson (Dempster Hwy Mile 342, population: 952) Small town with a few services, located where the Dempster Highway crosses the Peel River (ice bridge or ferry crossing). Dene Indian crafts, artwork, and guide services may be available depending on the hours and season. Home of the famous Fort MacPherson Tent & Canvas Company. Mackenzie River Crossing (Dempster Hwy Mile 378) Ice bridge or ferry crossing depending on season. Townsite of Tsiigehtchic, a small Gwichya Gwichin community is located here. Location of the confluence of the Mackenzie and Arctic Red Rivers. Inuvik (Dempster Hwy Mile 456, population: 3,667) Small town located on the banks of the Mackenzie River. This is a hub of activity in the region and has all major services including food, fuel and lodging year-round. This is as far north as you can drive, except in the winter season when the frozen river becomes certified for vehicular use. Visit the Arctic Chalet for comfortable accommodations year-round. Be sure to inquire about their dog-sledding adventures. arcticchalet.com Tuktoyaktuk, or Tuk (93 miles north of Inuvik, population: 943) Approximate coordinates: N69 26 34.00, W133 01 52.00 A small Inuvialuit community on the shores of the Arctic Ocean. Approach by vehicle must be made during the winter, driving on ice beginning on the Mackenzie River at Inuvik, to one of the largest river deltas in north America, ending with a drive along the surface of the Arctic Ocean close to the shoreline. Tuk is famous for its pingos, large hills of frozen ground being forced upward by subterranean water pressure, some of which are around 1,000 years old.
American Expedition Vehicles: Custom expedition vehicles prepared by overland enthusiasts in Missoula, MT. aev-conversions.com Adventure Trailers: For providing Chaser #1, which made a solo vehicle expedition possible. adventuretrailers.com Thr Jnsson of Viking Offroad: Thr also was a key supporter of our expedition, providing detailed logistics support on Arctic travel. vikingoffroad.com A big thanks to all those who helped along the way, including Jeff McLaird, Matt Svoboda (from Jeep), Steve in Calgary, Peter Hartl and Jim in Whitehorse. Without your hospitality and support, this trip would have been much less enjoyable. And our Arctic sponsors: Mobil1, Adventure Trailers, American Racing Wheels, ARB USA, BF Goodrich Tires, Deaver Springs, Donahoe Racing, EarthRoamer, Equipt Expedition Outfitters (Eezi-Awn), Extreme Outback Products, Sirius Radio, Thule, and Viking Off-Road.
Seasons
Driving to Tuktoyaktuk can only be done while the ice roads are open, which means late winter to early spring. Ice is usually at its thickest and most stable in early spring (March timeframe). Expect temperatures to be as low as 60F and as high as +15F along the Dempster and Mackenzie routes. Summer is typically beautiful in that area, yet still cool. Overall, precipitation above the Arctic Circle is minimal, and restricted to late summer months.
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Waypoints/Route
Braeburn Lodge (Klondike Hwy Mile 55) Approximate coordinates: N61 28 51.74, W135 46 44.07 Famous for their enormous cinnamon buns, and also a stop on the Yukon Quest dog sled race, Braeburn Lodge is a welcome sight for hungry travelers. Klondike River Lodge (Dempster Hwy Mile 0) At the intersection of the Klondike and Dempster highways (Mile 301 of the Klondike), this is the sub-Arctic equivalent of a desert oasis for the Whitehorse-to-Inuvik traveler. For fuel, food, and water this is a priority stop. From here, it is 456 miles to Inuvik. Eagle Plains (Dempster Hwy Mile 229, population: 8) There is a hotel, restaurant and phone (867-9932453) as well as a tire repair shop and fuel station. Diesel fuel and propane available. Electrical hook-ups, dump station and camping (check ahead of time depending on season). This is where the road is often closed to north-bound
Kanoe People: A wealth of local knowledge and support in Whitehorse. Personal locator beacons available for rent. kanoepeople.com Arctic Chalet: Dog sledding and WiFi, along with clean, comfortable cabins. arcticchalet.com Gun Barrel Steak and Game House: Buffalo Prime Rib. gunbarrel.com
VehIcLe FILe
Owner: Scott Brady
Lund Challenger toolbox housing auxiliary battery, electricals, and ExtremeAire 4cfm/150 psi air compressor Overland Hardware security hasps with stainless locks
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Warn M8000 winch with Viking Offroad synthetic line and Delrin roller fairlead
Demello Offroad heavy-duty skid plate Front differential fitted with ARB air locker and 5.29 axle gearing Donahoe Racing 2.5 coilover shocks with extreme weather plating 295/75/R16 BF Goodrich All-Terrain TA/KO tires with low-glass compound
16x8 American Racing Chamber alloy wheels Demello Offroad bolt-on rock sliders Toyota OEM electric locking rear differential with 5.29 axle gearing
Demello Offroad rear bumper with swing-out tire carrier and quarter-panel protection
22-gallon auxiliary fuel tank Custom shovel and axe carrier (2) Eezi-Awn Series 3 1200 roof-top tents mounted on truck and trailer Thule rack system
Deaver 11-pack leaf springs with Donahoe Racing reservoir shocks and Downey HD shackles
Mobil1 Fluids
Mobil1 was the title sponsor of our expedition, and for good reason, since the temperatures encountered in the Arctic required the absolute finest fluids. Prior to the expedition, our team worked with Mobil1 product engineers to evaluate grade range requirements and any special considerations, such as being able to cold-start at 60F. Synthetic fluids in general provide several advantages over traditional oils, and Mobil1s SuperSyn further extends the protection range over traditional and even other synthetic oils. The long life of the Mobil1 filter and fluids permitted us to drive the entire 9,000-mile expedition on a single oil change. Testing after the trip indicated that the oil had not fallen below any specification levels. During the trip, the fluids worked as predicted, and allowed several cold starts at below 30F, and one at below 40F, without any noticeable valvetrain clatter or difficulty in starting. For the trip, we used the following: Engine: Mobil1 0W30 synthetic with Mobil1 extended-performance oil filter Differentials: Mobil1 75W90 synthetic Automatic Transmission: Mobil1 synthetic ATF
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Independent suspension with airbags and adjustable dampers Nosebox with Lifeline battery, brake system, and fuel cans Thule No-Problem tire chains