Stretching 415 miles north through some of Alaska’s greatest wilderness areas, the Dalton Highway is one of the world’s iconic road trips. Built to support the Trans-Alaska Pipeline System, the road shadows the pipeline, enters the Arctic Circle and ends in the desolate oil fields of Deadhorse/Prudhoe Bay – how could we not resist the challenge?
DAY 1
The Elliot Highway Part 1
The Dalton is initially accessed via the Elliot Highway which starts at Fox, 11 miles north of Fairbanks. This road in itself is a scenic drive and worthy of being followed to the end of its 150 mile length.
We had just completed the equally scenic Steese Highway to Circle, site of some of Alaska’s greatest gold fields. This emerged onto the Elliot at Fox and so we were immediately off on an even bigger adventure!
Our first stop was only 300 yards north at Fox Spring – a tap supplying fresh spring water. It emerged beautifully cold and clear and judging by the constant stream of visitors was a popular stop.
At 5.5 miles, Hilltop Services advertised their pies but seemed to be in the process of closing down. Nevertheless Simon managed to fill the car whilst I read the warning signs about travel on the Dalton – at least we weren’t attempting the road in winter when things would get really challenging!
We had 80,700 miles on the car as we headed north through rolling tree covered hills, the road producing a series of long ups and downs. Our car rental firm had supplied us with a Je p (the emblem was missing an ‘e’) which was a bit battered around the edges and made a horrible noise at low speed; they were obviously working on the proviso that if we wrote it off it didn’t matter! As we were also responsible for any recovery costs, this wasn’t totally reassuring!
So we rattled along, checking out the Tataluna River which has an old bridge upstream of the modern crossing and shortly afterwards the Arctic Circle Trading Post which was built by the Carlsons who settled there with their 20 children (15 adopted!).
The children enterprisingly set up a stall to sell lemonade to the truckers going to Prudhoe Bay in the late 1970s which can still be seen, whilst the old wooden shop and garage is adorned with lost hubcaps and number plates. A peep inside revealed workshop manuals and dusty tools.
The adjacent Wildwood General Store, festooned with the obligatory moose antlers, has been closed since COVID.
Continuing on, with some delays due to summer roadworks, we found the Fred Blixt public use cabin. Fred, a Swedish trapper, built the original cabin in 1935 and it is now one of the few public use cabins accessible by road. The cosy wooden hut can be reserved online and is only $42 a night.
Onto the Dalton Highway
73 miles from Fox the road forks near Livengood – a great name for an old mining town that has virtually ceased to exist these days. The Elliot Highway continues west for 80 miles to Manley Hot Springs, but our interests lay to the north on the Dalton Highway, often known as the Haul Road because of the trucks hauling supplies to Prudhoe Bay.
The section north of the Yukon was built in only 154 days and was completed by September 1974. It was named after James W. Dalton, an Alaskan who was involved in early oil exploration efforts on what is called the North Slope due to it being north of the Brooks Range .
There was a Dalton sign and another newer one in a further mile – of course we had to stop to photograph both! Various campervans pulled in and 4x4s which all looked in better shape than our Jep.
Soon we got our first good sighting of the Trans Alaska Pipeline which was built between 1974-77 to carry oil from the frozen waters of Prudhoe Bay to the more hospitable port of Valdez, a distance of 800 miles. It crosses three mountain ranges and 34 major rivers and streams. Due to permafrost half of it had to be built above ground.
At Mile 38 there was an interesting photo opportunity where the pipeline emerged from underground. It’s skin felt very hot. A sign warned against climbing on it which I assume everyone does anyway!
Hunting with rifles is banned around it, although apparently one can still use bow and arrow! Its most dangerous moment came in 2001 when someone shot it with armour piercing bullets – he ended up in the state penitentiary. The ‘headache bars’ at each service point are to stop large vehicles which might damage it.
Our first major stop was the Yukon River at Mile 56 whose bridge had opened in 1975 in order to carry the pipeline across the 2000 feet wide waters. We caught sight of the river from the hills above and juddered over it on wooden boarding. Strangely, it sloped downhill.
To the east there was a friendly ranger station; the chap said we were amongst the only 1% of tourists who venture into the Arctic Circle. In anticipation, I stamped my passport – an original, free souvenir which sat rather nicely next to my Antarctic stamps.
We made a coffee and enjoyed the viewpoint for a while before crossing the road to the Yukon River Camp, a very basic prefab building whose main claim to fame seems to be that they were invaded by a bear one winter. It was duly shot but the boarded up window where it gained entry can still be seen.
They had a rather peculiar system of fuelling up. Leaving the credit card inside, Simon was handed a key to the pump and told to take a picture of the total when he was finished to bring in and show them. It certainly relied on the honesty of the buyer!
We decided to head on a little further and ended up camping at the 86 Mile Scenic Overlook, a huge gravel quarry which gave us a fabulous elevated view east and south over densely wooded mountains and valleys.
DAY 2
Our first stop was only 10 miles up the road where a short trail around the rocky tor at Finger Mountain led to beautiful views over the Kanuti flats and mountains. We were entertained by scampering ground squirrels – apart from the odd jack rabbit, they were the only wildlife we had encountered. Simon remarked that he thought he would have already been eaten by a bear by that stage!
The Kanuti Bridge to the north was a pretty stop and had a multitude of busy swallow nests on its eastern side. Gold panning is supposed to be productive, potentially yielding $12 per cubic yard. There was an unidentifiable carcass in the parking lot: Simon wondered if it could have been human!
On the rough gravel of the Beaver Slide (109 miles) the snow covered peaks of the Brooks Range first came into sight 60 miles ahead. It’s willow lined edges were supposedly a bear and moose haunt but we were unlucky and didn’t spot anything. On the descent there is a WiFi hotspot – look for the green gates – one of several en route!
At 115.5 Mile we came to what for many people is the highlight of their trip, indeed it is as far as many people bother to go: the Arctic Circle. The sign showed the latitude N 66°33′ W 150° 48′ at which the sun does not set on the summer solstice (20 June) or rise on the winter solstice (21/22 December). A third of Alaska lies within it.
We had briefly touched on it once before at Grimsey, an island off the north of Iceland, but now we would be penetrating much further. Strangely the weather did not feel at all arctic, in fact it was positively balmy and we were quite comfortable in t-shirts.
The road continued to wend up and down the hillsides, including one bend called ‘Oh shit corner’ (126). It was once signed as such but the sign was stolen so many times they gave up!
Another lyrical pull out came at Gobblers Knob (132.1) where we got a lovely high view over the mountains to come, with the Brooks Range in the distance – this range marks the Continental Divide and has peaks at over 9000 feet.
No. 5 Pump Station was an untidy sprawl on the hills below. The nearby Prospect Camp recorded the coldest ever temperature in Alaska in January, 1971: -80°F/-62°C! The average summer temperature in Coldfoot is 10-15° but we were enjoying temperatures close to 30°, the bright sunny days perfect for appreciating the fabulous views en route.
Grayling Lake (159) is a pretty spot and right beside the road. More lakes can be seen as the road heads north; although the area only gets about 5 inches of rain a year, the permafrost keeps water on the surface.
Frighteningly, Coldfoot is the nearest thing to ciivlisation for 250 miles in either direction, although the Arctic Interagency Visitor Centre is well worth a visit for its information and displays on the area.
There is a dusty parking lot at the Coldfoot Camp Cafe (907) 474-3500) where burgers cost $15 and petrol $7.49 per gallon (double the price in Fairbanks). The table under the telly is reserved for Dalton Highway truckers only! The bar has the last alcohol before Deadhorse, which is dry.
After a cold coke on their dusty verandah we headed north for lunch on the Koyukuk river (204) with a wonderful view of Sukakpak, a 1,338 m peak of bright clear limestone.
The road continued on along the Dietrich River to the Chandalar Shelf where the treeline is 2,500 feet – Colorado’s is 12,000, Ecuador’s 19,000 by comparison.
Next up was probably the most spectacular part of our trip: the Atigun pass. At 4,739 feet/1,422 m, it is the highest pass in Alaska and where the highway crosses the Continental Divide: rivers to the south flow to the Pacific Ocean or Bering Sea, those to the north to the Arctic Ocean. The mountain tops were bare and still quite snow covered. We kept an eye out for Dall sheep, the only wild white sheep in the world but didn’t see any, although there were some hoof prints on the summit!
We dropped down to a spectacular, wide u-shaped valley with jagged mountains to each side. It would have been perfect without the road and the pipe zig zagging up the middle: the zig zags allow expansion of the pipes in the different temperatures.
Galbraith Lake was still ice covered and the road stayed high although it opened out a bit near Toolik Lake (284) and at the top we had a superb view of the Brooks range before beetling on over the plains. At 309 miles we joined the Sagavanirktok – or ‘Sag’ – River which ran wide and dirty with snow melt.
We carried on over wild, wide open country that resembled the altiplano – the road rose several metres out of the bog and we wondered at the amount of hardcore that would have been used!
We had delayed our trip on the Dalton by a couple of days as there had been a washout at mile 315 – snowfall had melted rapidly in the hot temperatures, a block of ice had blocked the culvert and the road ended up been washed out.
I had read the official note saying that it would take 3 days to repair and asked at the tourist office in Fairbanks if this were likely to be true.
The lady looked at me rather blankly and replied
‘If they say 3 days, then it will be 3 days.’ She obviously had no experience of an English project whereby 3 days probably means 3 years!
And indeed it duly opened 3 days later so that when we arrived at the repair we were able to proceed behind a pilot vehicle. It had been a long day and soon after we found a nice campsite above the river at Mile 320.8. Distant snow topped mountains rose to the south and we thankfully collapsed with a bottle of wine to enjoy the scenery after a long day.
DAY 3
The rough gravel road continued, a causeway on through undulating tundra, a waterlogged wilderness where we spotted a few caribou. They migrate towards the ocean in summer to give birth away from the hoards of mosquitos that are found inland.
Oncoming trucks created large dust clouds – it wouldn’t be much fun for the few cyclists whom we had seen. The route seems to appeal to them, and motorcyclists, who quite often continue on to the bottom of South America.
Just after the Happy Valley Workers Camp (334.4) we found a small herd of muskoxen with some very cute calves. A large ruminant related to sheep and goats, their luxuriant coats help them withstand the long winters. Known as qiviut, the fibres are 8 times warmer than wool, don’t shrink, and can keep the animal warm at temperatures down to -100°F.
They were actually shot to extinction in Alaska and had to be re-introduced from Greenland – unfortunately when threatened they form a distinctive defensive ring, adults outermost, which makes them an easy target for hunters.
At Last Chance Wayside (354.6) there was a viewpoint at the top of a hill with superb views in all directions over the tundra and shortly afterwards a real treat: a good bitumen road all the way to Deadhorse!
The last stretch of the road was through largely flat Arctic tundra with low vegetation. Shortly before Deadhorse, we passed Franklin’s Bluffs to the east, their deeply indented sides colourful with oxidised iron. The Sag river spread out throughout the valley.
Deadhorse
As the old adage goes, it is the trip rather than the destination and if Trump had to live in Deadhorse he might rethink his ‘Drill, baby! Drill!’ mantra.
Oil was discovered in 1968 about 9000 feet down and the place is basically a giant outdoor construction site of vehicles, oil rigs and blocks of corrugated housing intertwined by bad, muddy roads.
The average oil worker earns $150,000 a year which must be the main incentive to live in the ghastly place, which is ‘dry’ (alcohol banned) to boot.
However 3000 – 4000 people do work there (very few actually live there) and it is the largest oil field in North America with 3-4% of domestic production. Apparently, due to it’s age, the pipeline only runs at 25% capacity these days, but it shows the money to be made in oil when it is worth putting an 800 mile pipeline in to ship it out, as well as a road and a bridge across the Yukon.
It was hard to know where to start but we filled up with petrol ($7.20 / gallon) and then found the well stocked local store where we bought a couple of stickers of the ‘I survived the Dalton Highway’ ilk for $3.
The outside wall was festooned with stickers and the original rusty tin sign that says ‘Welcome to Deadhorse’ – the town was apparently named after the construction company who built the airport and it appears to have stuck, although for tourism purposes many people prefer to call it Prudhoe Bay.
We had a picnic lunch on the Sag River delta which was actually rather lovely as long as one didn’t look at the mess behind it. It was still another 1,200 miles to the North Pole but the place was surprisingly cold after the warm temperatures we had been experiencing – I think it must have been the wind chill factor with the breeze coming over all the ice. The average in summer is actually 0-5°, although it was a balmy 10° on our visit! To make it even more environmentally friendly than it was already, heating belched out in the buildings to keep them at at 75°.
After such a long drive it was slightly disappointing that the only way to reach the Beaufort Sea / Arctic Ocean (8 miles away) was to join an Arctic Shuttle Tour which departs from Deadhorse Camp, the only operator which provides tourist bed and board, keeping in mind the ‘industrial nature’ of the site – ie. don’t expect much but we’ll still charge you $200 a night!
Tours had to be booked at least 24 hours in advance to clear security and cost $89 – not cheap for what is basically a bus ride to the East Dock with a bit of waffle thrown in for good measure.
Once there, there is the option of a swim in the Arctic Ocean (certificate supplied) if one is mad enough or a wander along the gravel shoreline. We chose the latter and it was actually rather neat as the sea was still frozen – I don’t think that I have ever seen a frozen sea before. It is one reason to do the trip earlier on in the season before the sea does thaw.
The waters edge was scattered with rusty old barrels and driftwood whilst the land around the bay is dotted with oil platforms. The water was as icy as expected; I felt quite sorry for the guide who had to immerse himself twice daily in the interests of tourism and the odd tip!
Glowing or otherwise, after a couple of hours we were deposited back at Deadhorse Camp to go our separate ways. The camping area was quite open in Deadhorse and although the polar bears we had been warned about were out hunting on the ice, we decided to start the trip back.
At 354.4 we halted for the night at Last Chance Wayside, getting the top dog position on the upper heights of the gravel pit. The empty tundra spread all around us, and with the temperature gaining about 20° on Deadhorse, we had a very pleasant evening.
DAY 4
The scenery looked just as good in reverse! We decided to have an easy day and ended up camping at Galbraith Lake (274.7), a beautifully scenic site amidst the mountains of the Atigun Valley.
This was an official BLM campsite, albeit free, with sites neatly scattered in the scrub, pit toilets and trash bins. There was also the added bonus of phone reception due to a nearby research centre!
After lunch, we walked down to the river which flowed into the lake. It’s sides were still quite frozen and solid with ice. We followed it down to the lake – it was all rather scenic, although hard work when one had to walk on the land due to large spongy tussocks. The lake is all that remains of a large glacial lake which once covered the whole valley and was still frozen over.
Later in the evening, the sky grew quite stormy and we actually had some intense rain for about 10 minutes – not the ideal weather for those studying the summer solstice! Happily our roof top tent stood up to the barrage.
Clearing skies later allowed us to fully appreciate the solstice although being above the Arctic Circle the sun did not set anyway and shone as brightly in the middle of the night as in the daytime – quite bizarre as one never quite knows when it is time for bed!
DAY 5
We awoke to another sunny day – we were very lucky with the weather on the trip but June is supposed to be a more settled month. I think it was also unseasonably warm: apparently Alaska had just issued its first ever heat advisory!
We enjoyed the stunning scenery yet again as we drove up the Atigun Valley and into the pass which seemed a bit gentler from the northern side.
At the Chandler Shelf area, we stopped to look down into the valley below where the furthest north spruce tree, approximately 237 years old, once stood before a vandel cut it down in 2004 (235).
The thickening vegetation obviously pleased someone as we then spotted a grizzly bear making his leisurely way along the river edges, thankfully about a mile below us. He had a particularly pale coat so was quite easy to spot and was busy browsing through the shrubs. Even through binoculars he looked impressively large.
Back amongst trees, the highway paralleled the Dietrich River which ran wide and shallow between numerous gravels shoals, busy with dirty meltwater. There are some superb wild camping spots along this section.
The old gold mining town of Wiseman is just a couple of miles off the highway (188.6) to the north of Coldfoot. It’s heyday was around 1910. The population is now 12 although there is still active gold mining in the area.
It really wasn’t worth the detour although we had a nice picnic lunch on the Koyukuk River bank just before the village, followed by a general wander amongst the log cabins and moose-hanging sheds, taking our lives in our hands to walk past some huskies who charged at us from the ends of their chains.
The old Wiseman Trading Post was quite picturesque with it’s moose antler adornments whilst the rather shrunken log cabin post office was no longer functional.
There was a collection of assorted big machinery lined up nearby but that was about it, bar the cemetery which we failed to find in the scrub.
Back at Coldfoot, we filled up the car again, enjoyed a couple of cold cokes on the verandah and then headed on.
We crossed the Arctic Circle back into sunsets and ended up camping in the gravel expanse of Old Man’s Camp (107). There were far ranging views across the hills and a sufficiently fresh breeze to warrant a fire.
Slightly worrying, Milepost warned against bears in the area so the bear spray went to bed with us that night!
DAY 6
No bears but woke up to a rather hazy day, albeit sunny. We called in at Yukon Camp and spoke to the ranger who told us that there were two fires burning to the west of Wiseman, caused by lightning strikes. They were considering whether to close Marion Creek campground where we had only filled up with water the previous day. Apparently the spruce trees contain a lot of pitch and are quite flammable.
We did some much needed clothes washing at the spigot at 5 Mile Campsite, filled up our water bottles, got fuel and headed on, momentarily distracted by the internet above the Yukon. Trump has bombed Iran so God only knows what will happen next!
But far from the cares of the world (although I suspect we are on the missile route from Russia if they decide to bomb America) we pulled in for lunch at a pretty lake (134.4) where yellow water lilies were starting to bloom. The only thing missing was a moose knee deep in the water!
We continued on over the ups and downs of the highway – a profile map looks positively saw-like. Stopping for the traditional picture back at the sign, Simon attempted a star jump! Jep looked suitably mud plastered! An already damaged front indicator light was missing and he also sported a cracked windscreen which was quite annoying as I don’t think it had actually been hit by anything but had rather radiated out from the side.
The Elliot Highway Part 2
You know you are going into redneck country when you can’t read the road sign for the bullet holes!
Having just completed the Dalton Highway and taken the pics to prove it, we decided to complete the trio of northern routes. After the Steese Highway, we had followed the Elliott Highway from Fox (11 north of Fairbanks) to where the Dalton turned off north after 73 miles.
Now as we emerged on to the Elliot again, we decided to turn west and follow it to its terminus just after Manley Hot Springs, a distance of some 80 miles.
The good gravel road ran very straight and ascended Ptarmigan Hill to a dramatic ridgeway where the view stretched for miles in either direction over endless mountains. Unfortunately due to the presence of fires in the region it was quite hazy.
There was a turn off to Minto (109.3), a native Athabascan village whose inhabitants still follow a subsistence lifestyle of trapping and hunting. The nearby Minto Flats is a famous duck hunting area. We ducked (!) down for a look and found a huge watery expanse dotted with untidy islands.
At mile 106.4 there was a turn out with a view of the Sawtooth Mountains to the north. An explanatory sign was pock marked with bullet holes which was turning into a recurring theme for any sign along this highway.
The highest point on the Elliott Highway came at 119.5 miles: this was really turning out to be a very elevated route with magnificent views.
For the last 12 miles the road ran through dense trees with high grasses beside the road. At one point Simon had to brake sharply as a moose ran across the road with a gangly youngster in tow – we had just been wondering whether moose ran across the road or sauntered, but this one definitely ran!
Finally signs of life appeared and we entered Manley Hot Springs, first past the community hall and then a town water supply. Manley was first homesteaded in 1902 and a resort hotel was built in 1907. The population peaked in 1910 at 1000 people as the village became a trading centre for the outlying mining districts.
The hotel burnt down in 1913, mining waned and today there is only a population of 42. However the hot springs survive at the Manley Hot Springs Resort: cabins start at $325 but one can reserve an hour in the hot tub for $30 per person. They have a luxuriant greenhouse style setting.
Across the bridge lay the jaunty green and white Manley Roadhouse which dates back to 1903. There is camping on the river opposite for $10 but we continued another 3 miles to where the Elliott Highway ends at Milepost 153 on the Tanana River. This river flows through Fairbanks and is actually an alternative route there for the locals; it joins the Yukon a little further downstream.
There was a large parking area with a pit toilet, the grassy sides fringed by pretty wild blue irises. The wide but sluggish river carried a lot of timber in its brown waters. On the far side there was a large sandy area fringed by thick trees.
We set up camp beside the river and enjoyed a peaceful evening on the bank before heading to bed. Having finally dropped below the Arctic Circle, we even noticed some diminution in the light.
DAY 7
In the morning, with thunder rumbling in the distance and the sky looking quite stormy, we went to the Manley Roadhouse for breakfast. The original 1903 section has cosy sofas and a varied collection of local memorabilia, including a giant mammoth bone hanging from the ceiling.
We ate French toast in the adjacent bar with a large horseshoe counter. Strangely we were given the choice between the bacon being crispy or chewy – that was a new one to us! The waiter came from Missouri but had lived in Manchester and Prague so was very well travelled.
We shared the table with a Vietnam vet who shot bears on his back porch and complained about them, and the wolves, eating all the moose. A native Alaskan also joined us whilst outside the skies opened and rain poured down.
‘There are worse places to be stuck’, we thought when we were told that the Elliot Highway was closed due to fires at Mile 11 but after breakfast we decided to proceed slowly. We had a little wander in the village which has a couple of picturesque ruined stores and assorted log cabins. The river camping area had a great view towards the bridge but also lots of mossies.
Filling up with petrol, we backtracked, driving carefully on slippery roads, although it appeared that the rain had been confined to the Manley side of the mountains.
Unfortunately the skies were still quite hazy. We stopped at a couple of lookout points and were soon back at the junction with the Dalton again. Jep had completed the trio of gravel roads found to the north of Fairbanks – I suspect a feat enjoyed by few other hire cars!
The last 73 miles back into Fairbanks were on bitumen. The Elliot Highway had reopened and we were soon in town. We treated Jep to a car wash – he had carried us over 1,451 miles of challenging Alaskan gravel and bitumen roads and deserved it!
NOTES
The Dalton Highway
It is easy to overthink these things! The main thing to note is that it is a long way and if you break down it will be expensive (Coldfoot charges $5 a mile plus $150 call out) so make sure your vehicle is in top shape. The average drive from Fairbanks to Deadhorse takes 13 hours without stops.
The road is largely gravel with a beautiful stretch of bitumen for the last 50 miles! It should not present any major problems if you drive sensibly. There can be potholes, corrugations and soft sides. The main danger is probably a windscreen chip due to passing trucks, so make sure your car rental insurance covers windscreens.
We found the best guide was The Milepost, an Alaskan travel planner which is extremely comprehensive – it is priced at $44 at any bookshop. You can actually easily do the trip in a 2WD.
Not all car rental companies allow travel on the Dalton. Those that do include Go North and Alaska 4×4 Rentals.
For current road conditions:
The longest stretch without petrol is 240 miles. Petrol is available near Fox, the Yukon River, Coldfoot and Deadhorse. This also applies to accomodation although there are a ton of beautiful free campsites en route. Drinking water is available at spigots in 5 Mile and Marion Creek campsites otherwise it is $20 to fill up at Coldfoot, regardless of quantity.
Check out prudhoebay.com for general information on the area.
The Deadhorse Arctic Shuttle Tour is the only way to get to the Arctic Ocean and leaves from Deadhorse Camp. At the time of writing it costs $89 and needs to be booked 24 hours in advance.
TIP: You can find free, fast WiFi en route at the green painted power stations!
The scenery is fabulous throughout – enjoy!
OF INTEREST
I have included the following statistics as they really sum up the day/night and weather situation in the Deadhorse area.
Longest Day: 63 days, 23 hours, 40 min.
Official sunrise: 12:09 AM – on 20th of May
Official sunset:11:18 PM – on 22nd of July
Shortest Day: 1 hour, 3 min.
Official sunrise: 11:42AM – 24th of November
Official sunset: 12:27PM – 24th of November
Longest Night: 54 days, 22 hours, 51 min.
Official sunset: 12:27PM – 24th of November
Official sunrise: 11:18AM – 18th of January
Shortest Night: 26 min.
Official sunset: 11:43PM – 19th of May
Official sunrise: 12:09AM – 20th of May
Highest Recorded Temperature: 83 degrees F. on 21st of June, 1991
Lowest Recorded Temperature: Minus 62 degrees F. on 27th of January, 1989
Highest Wind Speed Recorded: 95 knots (109 mph) on 25th of February, 1989
Official Lowest Wind Chill Factor: 28th of January,1989 – Temp of minus 54 degrees F and Wind speed of 31 knots (36 mph) – Gave a chill factor of minus 135 degrees F.
The Elliot Highway
This road is quite straightforward. There is petrol at Minto and Manley Hot Springs and accomodation at the Manley Roadhouse and the Manley Hot Springs resort.
