Saturday

 

Our big adventure.  We put on our winter hiking boots, packed our arctic gear, and boarded a plane to Utqiagvik, Alaska, deep inside the Arctic Circle, the northernmost city in the U.S.

 

Stowaway alert.

 

Even though lying on the luggage, Henry didn’t get to go.  We got a dog-sitter for him and left for a long day-trip.  We got up and left at 5am and didn’t get home until 10pm.  Henry got walked and petted three times during the day, and fed dinner when it was time.  Amie the dog-walker loved him.

 

Our flight first went to Deadhorse at Prudhoe Bay, by way of Denali in the clouds,

 

…then on to Barrow.

 

This is our ride.

 

And the arrival gate.

 

A look back from the front of the terminal.

 

Our rental car office.  That’s our little white car.

 

We went to the most highly recommended restaurant in town, Sam and Lee’s.  Chinese and American food.  For lunch, we each went American.

 

I had the $20 club sandwich.

 

Together, lunch was $50.  Someone asked me later if the sandwich was worth it.  Well, we were in Barrow and we were hungry, so yeah; it was worth it.  It’s expensive here.  Everything they have here has to be flown in or barged in.  Gasoline was 5.99 a gallon.  We filled the car back up before we turned it in.  With the limited driving, it didn’t take but a few dollars to replace what we used.  Farther south in Alaska, we’ve paid $90 to fill up the Jeep.  Groceries are high.

 

 

How can people make enough to even buy food?  Wages for jobs are probably high, but it didn’t look like there were all that many jobs to go around.

 

The town is not geared to tourism.  There is no cute little downtown with shops.  We ate lunch.  We went to the grocery store.

 

We went to the gas station.  We met up with two other people who were also visiting.  Other than that, everyone else was local; just going about their business; taking no special notice of us.  They were nice.  They were friendly when we spoke with them, but they were busy going from place to place, doing their own errands, living their own lives, on four-wheelers as much as any other mode of transportation.  The town itself was buzzing with activity (even though it doesn’t look like it in the next photo).

 

There is no pavement.  All summer long, water trucks drive around town wetting the roads to keep down the dust. src=157617612354.7740.16328229406212507309@Feluria0FCF0" style="width:5.7916in;height:3.8416in" width="556"/>

 

 

There is a football field.

The high school kids used to play straight on the gravel, but a woman from Florida sponsored a fundraising challenge a couple years ago and gathered enough money to sponsor this stadium.  The football team is thriving.

 

 

Early in the day it was still a little chilly out on the tundra.

The wind was up.  That was a good thing though because it kept down the bugs.

 

We drove to the Arctic Ocean.  (It took about a minute from the airport.)

 

 

 

 

We did our version of the polar plunge; we each dipped our hands in the Arctic Ocean.

 

 

There is a tolerance in town for junk.

 

 

Perhaps when it is that expensive to get everything there, there is no mood to pay that much to get it gone again when it’s done.

 

This lonely snow machine is likely in its final resting place as well.

 

Outside of town there are still signs of oil and gas, tanks and towers, civilization, but other than that, it’s tundra.

 

 

 

 

 

And a few remaining snowdrifts in July.

 

Time to leave, just as the fog was rolling in.

 

For the last several weeks we’ve been practicing pronouncing Utqiavik, so we could be respectful of the local preference.  While we were here talking to people though, whenever the name came up we were told “Just say Barrow”.  Funny.  Susan at the car rental even said “I was born in Barrow.  My birth certificate says Barrow.  It will always be Barrow to me.”  Okay.

 

Barrow is so isolated it kind of feels like we just visited a different planet.  There is no easy way to get to any neighboring villages, let alone the southern half of Alaska or the lower 48.  Not in the summer anyway.  It’s probably a lot easier to get around locally in the snow and ice in winter on snow machines.  Rivers turn into roads.  Barrow.  It’s a separate kind of place.

 

 

 

 

 

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