Valdez

At the border, Highway 1 had changed to Highway 2. I followed the number 2 to Tok, the first real town across the border in Alaska. It seemed like a bit of an oasis. I was very appreciative of the (relatively) cheap gas in Tok. Gas in British Columbia cost a fortune; Taking into consideration the conversion of liters to gallons and the exchange rate, I was paying well over US$4.00 per gallon for the stuff in Canada. Tok was selling it for $2.86.

I took the Tok Cut-Off Highway (confusingly again Highway 1) in the direction of Anchorage. I turned south on Highway 4, the Richardson Highway, towards Valdez. Rain fell sporadically as I drove. The clouds had moved in and partially obscured the tallest peaks surrounding the beautiful Valdez as I approached.

I was very eager to explore the town. Valdez was the terminus for the Trans-Alaskan Pipeline. As I approached the town, I could see the large storage tanks on the other side of the bay, each holding around 9 million barrels of oil each. In 1989, the Exxon Valdez had departed this terminal and had run aground on a reef outside of Valdez Narrows. The hull was breached and the tanker spilled over 11 million gallons throughout the sound. Only around 8% of the spill was reclaimed and oil can be found just under the surface around the area. The current at the time was moving out, so the town of Valdez was not really affected by the spill.

On Good Friday, in 1964, Valdez was struck by the most powerful earthquake in American history - 9.2 on the Richter scale. A fault ruptured 45 miles outside of town and made the land ripple like waves. The parts of Valdez that were not destroyed in the quake were sunk by the ensuing tsunami. 37 people were killed. I would visit a museum devoted to the "Old Valdez"

Valdez is also known for it's natural beauty. Two locals I talked to referred to it as the "Switzerland of Alaska". Although I couldn't see them, I knew that 7,000-foot coastal mountains were surrounding the town. Glaciers and waterfalls are everywhere. Just outside of Valdez, I stopped to take in the view at - and hike on - one of the many Glaciers in the area, the Worthington Glacier.

I called ahead to the Bear Paw RV Campground and confirmed that a tent site would be available to me. The place held a lot of RVs but kindly reserved a quiet glade of trees for us tenters near the harbor. I pitched camp and cooked supper and then I set off to explore the town. I walked around the small harbor and watched the fishing boats come in and the men cleaning their catches. I watched as a one fisherman filleted three large Salmon sharks (which according to him, were cousins to the Great Whites). He cut off their fins, he told me, in order to give to the Asian restaurant in town for soup. The fisherman's proud mother was in Valdez for a visit. With her best sales pitch, she tried to convince me that I should hire her son to take me fishing for the sharks - or take me kayak fishing for salmon. I continued on toward the end of the harbor on a peninsula. There were throngs of young people dressed in rubber boot and warm clothes hanging around and smoking outside of the dorms and mess hall of the Peter Pan Seafood company. These were the men and women (more like boys and girls) that were working further out in the deep sea. They put there lives in jeopardy - and were handsomely rewarded for doing it, I was told.

The cloud cover kept creeping downward. I wondered if it would rain as headed back to my tent for bed.