Whitehorse City Day  18 – The Muktuk Experience

One of the highlights of the Tour was the trip to Muktak Adventures. Till now, not much has been posted, however, here is a report on it from Peter Morelli:

A haunting cry split the Yukon silence, then another and another, as 130 sled dogs bayed in a united Muktuk Welcome. We had arrived at Frank Turner’s “Muktuk Kennels” for the Great Bentley Pull. But first a chance to wander among the sled dogs – each with their own kennel, their name written on the outside. They were all people-friendly, some more so than others. Our favourite was Mischief. He was super-friendly. If he could have leapt on my shoulders he would have. He had to be content with lots of hugs! As more Bentley Alaska members arrived the puppies were able to enjoy a brief escape from their enclosure to be fussed over.

We were fortunate to have accompanied Dave and Kelly Beddows, and so were treated to Anne Turner’s fantastic game barbeque – juicy Bison and Elk steaks accompanied by spicy Caribou sausage. All washed down with wine and beer in the Turner’s lovely warm and mosquito-free dining-room. During dinner Frank Turner told us about the Muktuk Kennels and his involvement in the Yukon Quest, the 1000 mile International Sled-Dog Race. Frank held the record of 10 days until 2009.

Then outside for the main event – the Great Bentley Pull! Later arrivals were also given the “Muktuk Welcome”. Then chaos seemingly prevailed as the team was hitched to Andrew Davies’ 3/4½. The dogs set up a cacophony of excited barking as they realised something was up – each calling “Pick me! Pick me!”

Finally the chosen 14 were all harnessed to the Bentley and with dog-handler Demeris leading the way on a quadbike they were off. With a brief hiatus as the team tried to head off down their familiar training run, Andrew and his Bentley flew round the kennel complex, not once, but three times, with Peter Graham and then Ann Davies in the passenger seat. The cameras clicked and whirred, the gathered Bentleyists applauded and all too soon the great event was over. Another first for Frank Turner and his marvelous dogs!

The uniqueness of the event was not lost on Andrew Davies who had a front-row seat - here is his point-of-view from the cockpit:

I didn’t believe that 14 dogs could pull my Bentley until I was talking to one of the locals in Whitehorse  and the guy told me that they hold competitions and Frank’s team of dogs pulled a semi trailer last year, I thought he was winding me up.

Anyway after being asked if I would volunteer my car for the pull I thought I ought to show up.

We had a lovely BBQ before the Bentley pull and we saw all of Frank’s achievements dog mushing , he has achieved many awards with his dogs over the years.

When we went outside and put the car ready for the long harness that would take 14 dogs, the whole of his yard was like electric, he had at least 50 dogs to choose from and they were all crying like children, barking as if to say please take me.

While the selection of dogs was going on I decided to walk the whole race track and check for ruts and stones to avoid. The first straight (Sled straight) is about 100 meters, then I came to Elks corner, a 90 degree bend not too sharp, then came the long mosquitoes curve, plenty of mosquitoes they would eat you alive if you stood still. Then came a sharp 120 degree bend (Grizzly corner), there were plenty of ruts and large stones in this area, so I  had to take care and not cut the corner too much, now we have the long kennels straight, 150 meters at least, at the end is a nice sweeping bend past the house (Mushers corner) to the finish.

I got into the car as the dogs were all attached and I could feel the excitement of the dogs as they tugged on the car, all the dogs were tethered in pairs.

There is a quad bike in front of the dogs with one of the dog trainers driving and Jeff the camera man sitting on the back, the idea is the dogs will chase the bike and Jeff will film all the action.

Frank put his thumb up and we were ready to go, the motorbike is off and I loose off the hand break, the car lurches forward with amazing speed quicker than I would in 1^st gear.

We get half way up Sled straight and the dogs decide to go right (no one warned me) I had to break and brought the dogs to a halt, they told me later they were off to the river as that’s the track they are use to in the winter.

Frank and the girls get the dogs ready again and off we go with just the same amount of power, up to Elks corner and I see Jeff fall off the bike as it went around the bend, I just missed him with the Bentley, he must have gathered himself together very quickly as I could see him in my mirrors back on the bike and overtaking us on the inside of mosquitoes corner he almost came off again at grizzly. I took it wide on grizzly to avoid the rough area, now we are going flat out down kennel straight, I glanced down at the speedo and we are doing 10mph, not bad for 14 dog power, as we approached Mushers, spectators were everywhere. Mushers corner was almost flat out then we had the chequered flag.

Frank said we had better have another run as the last lap was a practice run to warm the dogs up.

The second lap was fairly uneventful and we reached a maximum speed of 8 mph

We then had the thumbs up for a 3^rd lap, Anne jumped in for the final lap and off we went at great speed again, I had to slow the dogs as we went past the river road to the right as they were desperate to the river again but the kennel girls were blocking the track so on to Elks then I noticed the dogs fading a bit on Mosquitoes, when we got to Grizzly they cut the corner and I had no choice but to follow then through the rough (no damage done) then as we went down kennel straight and Trevor and Judy were standing in another track to the right, again the dogs wanted to go right they almost knocked Trevor over but he scared them back on the kennel straight for us (must have thought he was a black bear or something.) Mushers was flat out, then at the finish the dogs turned left towards the kennels as they were really tired and wanted to go home.

Day 25 (June 25)

 

The following report was submitted by Terry and Wendy Unwin:

After yesterday’s morning-long deluge, today dawned bright and sunny so we awoke with the songs of Oklahoma still ringing in our ears after yesterday evening’s enjoyable theatre performance. The car park was already populated by the early morning car cleaners, one of whom was renowned to have been out there 2 ½ hours already. Thank goodness our mud-coloured car needs less effort!

An adequate breakfast consumed, the driver’s meeting of a revised route, permission having being secured for use of the Victoria Parliament building as the venue for the conclusion of the tour. We eventually set off with the hood still in place due to a slight deterioration of the weather; spitting with rain that soon cleared. Within a few miles we had to stop to dive way to a family of 2 adult and 2 young deer crossing the road in front of us, maintaining the wildlife theme which has been one of the joys of the tour.

On through leafy residential roads with lovely houses we passed by Cowichan Bay but forewent the proposed coffee stop; too soon after breakfast! We also passed by the winery as it was pre-opening time. It was a bit early in the morning for a tasting anyhow but we saw vines planted in fields alongside the road, perhaps the first we have seen in BC. The route next took us briefly on to the Trans Canada highway but only for a short distance as we soon turned off to skirt 2 sides (or more) of the picturesque Shawinigan lake; more nice houses but we suspect the nicest ones were beyond view, lakeside down private driveways.

Back to the Island Highway 1A we were soon traveling our way through the inner suburbs of Victoria moving ot the revised route instructions so we crossed the “Blue Bridge” and to the gathering point at Oak Bay marina for a welcome coffee break prior to forming the convoy to be escorted to the Parliament Building by local police including the force’s late 40s Buick; that is after a photo call which said car and 2 friendly and good humoured local bobbies.

So, 30+ cars in rough date-order wended their way along the final few miles of the route. Those of us towards the tail end of the convoy into the forecourt of the Parliament Building sat and fretted a little as temperature gauges climbed whilst cars were directed to their final positions. A checkered flag was waived and many photos were taken including an “official” one on the steps of the building. Each car received an etched glass plaque with the Tour’s crest and a large framed photograph of the individuals’ cars taken at lake Louise, Bear Glacier, or other vantage points during the tour.

With the cars safely ensconced at the Empress Hotel’s underground car park, the afternoon was whittled away walking the sights of Victoria that were close to the hotel, float planes landing, street performers entertaining and sampling the local fare (including ice cream, delicious!) What remained was the end of tour gala dinner . . .

The evening began with cocktails in the hotel’s Edwardian Palm Court; drinks and snacks as the warm-up for the excellent meal that followed. Speeches were made and mutual thanks announced for the excellent organizing team, rewarded by gifts presented on behalf of the tourists by Mike Morgan and Rob Follows. David Cohen thanked the participants for their camaraderie and mutual assistance in keeping aged cars going till the end, 8,500 kms (5,000 + miles) of sometimes arduous, but always beautiful, roads etc.

Singled out was David Ayre for helping so many with their cars, Mike and Jane Morgan for their  general kindness and one for each era of Bentleys participating, each presented with an attractive glass trophy suitably carrying the Tour logo. An identical award was made to David Webster for his music-making and Rolf and Edda Aschmann were given a ribboned tire pump for their fortitutude in coping with no less than 13 wheel changes.

After dancing to the very loud music of Carmelina Cupo and her band, contact details were swapped and fond farewells made, especially be those on early ferries to get cars back to Gordon Wilson and flights home today (Friday 26^th).

Space constraints preclude me adding more, except to state our own heartfelt thanks to David and Adele, Colin and Laurel, Kevin, David and Kelly, and, of course, Basil who will now have to type this up.

Other notes of interest: while still in Chemainus, many folks saw Mike Morgan driving in a direction not in the route book. At least no one followed him; however, we did later discover the reason. As he was about to start his run for the day, Mike was approached by a policeman who asked if he would be so kind as to take his daughter to her school graduation in his Bentley. Mike agreed and surprised the young lass at her house when he picked her up and drove her to school. Apparently there was quite a large crowd of students there who saw her disembark from the Bentley and were most impressed – this will be one graduation one student will never forget.

The three winners for class were: Peter Graham in the W.O. class, Bernard Darby in the Derby class, and Ed Hammond for the post-war (modern) Bentleys (Anne Pilo picked his name out of a hat as there we three cars nominated in this category.) Bernard and Liz Darby were so happy to have won something that they will be hanging their glass trophy in their most prized location for family photos and other prized mementos; their downstairs loo.

Day 24 (June 24)

The following report was submitted by Bibbi Stebbing:

We woke a trifle later this morning. There had been some serious country dancing the night before by the newly-formed Bentley girls who have added several new items to their repertoire; again, aided and abetted by the fiddle playing of David Webster.

The day was very gloomy and decidedly wet. Our spirits could have been a bit higher, but it was difficult to raise too much jollity in view of the waterfalls descending on the knees of both driver and navigator (originally from a leaky windscreen. Note to self – fix it before next tour!)

There was a tremendous boost to the day after about 120 kms. We arrived at a wonderful venue named “Fawlty Towers.” This was in no way whatsoever like the BBC John Cleese hotel of the same name – it is the home of Steve and Barbara Harris. He is a local well-known car aficionado and collector and she is a cake-baker of extraordinary skill (as is their son . . .  whose chocolate cake was utterly exquisite.) Seventy plus more or less bedraggled Bentley occupants arrived at Fawlty Towers to the playing of not just one but two magnificent bagpipers, properly be-kilted.

The whole Harris house seemed filled to capacity with a permanent and varied collection of objects and art including: china, furniture, bears, chickens, dogs, model cars, and antiques of all sorts. It was fascinating – and we all felt extremely privileged to be there. There was also a temporary exhibit of the most wonderful plates holding vast numbers of delicious cakes, scones, and biscuits as well as endless pots of Earl Grey tea.

It was very difficult indeed to leave this haven, but leave we must!

A few of us were lured by colin Gurnsey to make a ‘quick detour” to visit the home of a very historic car, the 1906 Zust car which competed in the Great race from new York to Paris in 1908 (it came third.) The owners of this important car, harry and Shirly Blackstaff, were extremely hospitable and allowed us to  see, not just the Zust, but also the other extraordinary vehicles and bits of machinery they had collected over the years.

By the time our visit had drawn to an end, the rain had just about stopped and we decided that since we had spent several extra hours enjoying the Zust, and had previously filled and emptied our plates of many a delicious concoction at Fawlty Towers, a lunch stop was something we perhaps ought to forgo. So we went instead and headed to the town of Chemainus where we were spending our penultimate night.

Chemainus is a miracle town. It used to b an important logging town, starting from 1858, and was a prosperous place around the turn of the 20^th century. However, the logging industry began to fail in the late 1970s and, rather than see their town become a ghost town, the inhabitants re-invented it into a tourist attraction. A total of 37 splendid murals were painted around the town, attractive restaurants and shops were established, and a theater was built. It was a huge pleasure to walk through the town, to see the paintings, and enjoy the beauty of this unique town.

As though this was not enough, our organizers had booked for us all to go to the Festival Theater this evening. We started with a first-rated dinner in the theater dining room, which was followed by a hugely enjoyable performance of Oklahoma. Oh what a beautiful evening! I’m sure we won’t be the only Bentley on the road tomorrow wither Rogers and Hammerstein’s classics being sung, badly but joyfully, as we drive our final 100 kms to Victoria where we will be staying at the Empress Hotel.

What a fantastic adventure we have experienced over the past 25 days. We have travelled over 8,000 kms over a huge variety of spectacular landscapes and roads. We have seen mighty mountains and glaciers, raging rivers, blue lakes, forests, and wonderful wildlife.  We have shared incredible days with a wonderful group of fellow Bentley drivers. Thank you, a thousand times, David and Adele and Colin and Laurel for your tireless and excellent work in making this not just happen, but for making it such a huge success. Much love, too!!

Day 23 (June 23)

Jane Morgan has provided the following:

Promised power ‘outage’ finished earlier than expected, but still entailed groping round in pitch dark (not something we are used to) in the early hours of the morning, trying to remember the geography of yet another bathroom.

Overcast day with some drizzle and showers. Bentleys don’t need umbrellas, but John Fairclough’s Aston did! Impressive display of eagles circling over shore during breakfast. Signs of logging on the water.

Beeline for Campbell River in view of its reputation for superb salmon fishing. No time for a coffee break this morning! Lush forest and mountains bigger than expected. Road signs with diagrams of logging lorries. Bridges over the road: when did we last see these? Saw a young deer by the road: others saw much more wildlife including a bear. One couple explored Telegraph Cove, a boardwalk village on stilts, named when it was just a lonely telegraph post, and watched a catch of huge salmon being brought ashore.

6 keen fishers were able to go out in guided boats on the afternoon tide, and came back with one 21.5lb salmon, caught by Peter Harnik. Meanwhile others watched the seals, geese and clam diggers over the beech, went for a flight, were ferried over to the spa, swam or caught up on the chores in the peaceful surroundings of Painters Lodge. Everyone beginning to wind down a bit and even talk not of the next day but the next tour they might do.

Team photo in front of the lodge, though quite a few missing. Dinner places marked by the ‘baby’ photos we had sent in which caused much mirth. One posted as ‘The most wanted person in Canada’ with a competition, run in great style by Julian Smith, to solve the riddle of who it might be. Kurt Furger eventually owned up, to everyone’s surprise, and gave an amusing speech explaining the milestones in his development as an eventual Bentley nut.

Evening ended with Laurel trying to disentangle the ladies during another country dance practice. However, the repertoire expanded and by the end of the evening we were able to complete our own version of Strip the Willow, the Gay Gordons and the Dashing White Sergeant more or less in time to David Webster’s fiddle and without completely falling about in hopeless giggles. 

Other notes of interest: one can tell that Jane is a doctor as this reads like a prescription, will update with the full story when time permits.

Day 22 (June 22)

Liz Darby has been volunteered for today’s journal entry:

11:30    HELP! Have been reminded by Adele that my husband volunteered me to write today’s blog. The only problem is that he forgot to tell me. Dire thoughts of revenge race through my head. I’ve got 6 ½ hours to catch up on so here goes . . .

 4:30     The alarm goes off – impossible, I’ve only just got to sleep. Stagger out of my very luxurious bed and throw on some clothes. Another day begins. Only a 6 mile drive then 15 hours at sea.

 5:15     Grab the last remaining croissant, gulp a cup of coffee, load the car and head for the ferry terminal.

 7:30     Eventually lines are let go and off we sail to Port Hardy at the northern end of Vancouver Island. Out ferry, the Northern Expedition, is brand new, the previous one sank. We have fine sunny weather. During the morning we have seen a 50 million more trees and several whales. Our voyage, down the inside passage, starts at the Grenville channel where the narrowest portion is only 1400 feet wide. Depths of 1620 feet mean that vessels can travel close to shore.

 12:10   Having caught up with my morning so far, I am sitting on deck just gazing around me at truly amazing scenery, and I spend the next four hours doing just that with the odd doze in between. We pass Butedale, established in 1918 where a cannery and fish reduction plant operated until the 1950s and Swanson bay established in 1909 as one of the first sulphite mines on the coast – it was abandoned in 1918.

 14:30   Boat Bluff half way through the trip was established in 1904 and is probably the most scenic lighthouse along the Inside passage. Its white light is visible for approximately 20 miles.

16:30    We’ve slowed down.

 16:45   Even slower, have just passed Bella Bella. A prosperous fishing village and logging community with a hospital, schools and a First nations cultural centre. BC Ferries began a passenger service to Bella Bella in spring 1977 and continues to call in here on a year-round basis.

 17:30    Must have dozed off. Dinner calls, quick hair brush and off we go.

 20:40   Fantastic food. Still amazing scenery. Pop my head outside. Breezy and a lovely smell of the sea. One whale sited during dessert. A quick shut-eye before we disembark.

Day 21 (June 21)

Sarah Hall continues with the following report:

We were awoken by the noise of some other occupants of the hotel leaving noisily (perhaps they were getting us back for the singing last night), surprisingly it was not the chickens who could be faintly heard from their soundproof chicken hut, then went to breakfast at the King Edward.  I’m not sure how many of us they thought they were feeding, but the food was very good.

We then rushed to fill up the car and drive to get an official photo in front of the glacier, as we pulled up by Geoff it started to rain, and Mike almost refused to get out of the car. (Wimp) ((he now says the delay was to et Geoff wetter)).

The road delighted us again, with waterfalls, and snow covered peaks, and seemed as if it was snowing with the fluffy seeds from the trees (like cotton), also it seemed shorter as we travelled back up it.  As soon as we arrived back on Route 37 we met up with the WO cars.

After 126 miles we turned off to see the village of Gitanyow and their totem poles.  Unfortunately the drizzle and grey skies had returned and it was difficult to see the top of them, but everyone milled around drinking coffee and chatting about the previous night.  The people of Gitanyow were a very pleasant bunch and enjoyed taking photos of their poles with our cars as much as we did.

About 70 miles further up Route 37 we turned off onto Highway 16 to go to Terrace for lunch, by this time I was driving, and I was horrified to see that a one way metal bridge had to be crossed to get to the town, there wasn’t time for me to bail out and let Mike drive, so I was stuck behind the wheel.

Not only was it a single lane, but it also had bends on it and it was longer than the previous bridge we had crossed so the holding of breath wasn’t an option.  When we got to the other side my hands were sweaty (who is the wimp now?)  Dr Mike flagged us down and after a restorative time in a gift shop followed by lunch and a glass of wine Mike continued the drive to Prince Rupert after a quick stop at the ‘Show and Shine’ being held by Skeena Cruisers Car Club outside Canadian Tire.

The road continued to follow the river which became wider by the mile and after a while found ourselves at our hotel.

NOTE MARILYN & GRAHAM DISASTEROUS TRIP TO HYDER

We were surprised to see Graham & Marilyn’s car arrive on the flat bed. So we rushed out to check what was wrong……..it turned out they sneaked off to Hyder first thing in the morning with Graham Young in the back (to get the bear stamp on their passports).  Yards from the Alaska border the car’s engine just stopped so they literally ‘cruised into Alaska’.

They explained to the Canadian border official what was happening and she suggested that one of them get a lift back to Stewart, and, a bemused German in a camper van was instructed to take Graham Young into Stewart.  Whilst Graham was in the back of the van it passed David & Kelly who were awaiting their return (having noticed them sneaking off).  Graham was left in Stewart having given the German strict instructions to stop any/all Bentleys he saw and gave them a hastily penned SOS message.  The garage of course was closed and the whole village was deserted and the lady at the hotel said everyone had gone and indeed they had as David & Kelly had decided they were fed up with waiting and drove up to Hyder.

Graham Young borrowed a bike and peddled back to Alaska to relay the bad news that they were all alone.  However, he was met by a camera and relieved laughter from Graham, Marilyn, David & Kelly.

They loaded the Bentley, Graham & Marilyn were given the Smart car and Graham was given his 5^th form of transportation this trip, the luggage van.

Meanwhile, the German had caught some late leaving WOs and dutifully presented them with the SOS message, so they waited at the side of the road for some time before proceeding.

Other notes of interest: after Mike Morgan won the Rear Ender, he has decided to try and retire it, thus the lack of any Rear Ender updates. There has been an ongoing debate around the “award” as some people are deathly afraid of winning it, other see it as an Australian thing with no basis in Canada while the proponents of it see it as “a bit of fun” that allows everyone to hear about the news of interest for the day. Nonetheless, a group of First Nation singers and dancers prevented the reestablishment of the Rear Ender as Graham and Marilyn would have been shoe-in winners.

At the hotel in Prince Rupert, Bernard Darby was finally provided an executive suite and was cursing his luck as this was the shortest hotel stay of the entire trip – everyone had to be up and out of the hotel at 5:00 am to catch the ferry to Port Hardy. The view from his suite was worth it though.

Day 20 (June 20)

Today, the tour split up, with the W.O. Bentleys going to Bell II and the rest going to Stewart. Tony Sinclair has provided his journal entry for the day – apparently much toned down from the exaggerated one sent to the 30 mates on his daily journal list:

Well that was some day, possibly the worst sustained weather that we have come across in 3 weeks of driving. I’ll tell you more about that in a minute. Getting back to last night, although we did ask where to park the cars when checking in at the “Big Horn Hotel”, there was a difference of opinion between the Owner and the night security guard. Inevitably after we had all retired for the night the telephone rang to say that we had to park our cars elsewhere. The idea was that in time honoured tradition in these parts we would “circle our wagons” as protection against presumably the marauding local Indians (sorry “First Nation” people as they are now called). A bit over the top if you ask me, but then you didn’t see the arrows in old “Bertie Blower’s” hide in the morning!

My night’s sleep in the “Twilight Zone” was fitful and disturbed. I couldn’t help but dream of Jack Nicholson in “The Shining”, fully expecting the owner to come in at the dead of night and do me in. The yellow light from the one and only 30 watt bulb in the centre of my room was left on, my only protection against being caught unawares. In my subconscious I heard this beep beep beep noise, and thought that it was the Refuse Collection Wagons out of the Charlton Heston movie “Soilent Green” doing their early morning rounds to collect the dead bodies before everyone got up! Thankfully it was only the OAP coach reversing into the parking bay of the hotel next door, primed and ready to take another load of “Wrinklies” on some Magical Mystery Tour ... where I am not sure since we are hundreds of miles from anywhere?

Still, I digress. Today was all about doing yet another circa 300 miles in our splendid vintage W O Bentleys. Old “Bertie Blower” is in our good books, having performed faultlessly yesterday. I wonder what today will bring? Out of Watson Lake and over to Nugget City for breakfast (where the rest of the tour were staying owing to space constraints) and we were off on a 296 mile trek due south. The route was immediately off the main Highway, and consisted of a single road running down to Dease Lake on Route 37 and into British Colombia, all the way down eventually to Bell II and our overnight stop at the Lodge there.

Where else could you find a road 300 miles long that is almost unused, that goes up and over and through glorious mountains, traverses icy streams and rivers countless times, and dips down into lush forest valleys below? Can you imagine finding such a gem in the UK? I think not. Regrettably the Weather God however was not with us today, and for most of the day it became the drive from hell! Pouring rain, freezing winds and many gravel stretches of the road made the driving conditions appalling. Those of us in W O Bentleys, sitting up there exposed to all the elements, were slowly but surely being frozen to death. My goggles kept misting up, the windscreen wipers were nigh on useless (but aren’t they always anyway on this ancient machine?) and my rainproof jacket turned out to be nothing of the sort. It was only our mid morning stops at Jade City that rescued us from purgatory.

We pulled into what turned out to be a large wooden showroom, where upon the lady owner took pity on Paul and I, who were doing a good impression of the “Tin Man” from the “Wizard of Oz” ... we were so stiff with the cold. It seems that out here in the middle of nowhere they mine jade, and then make all manner of jewellery and artefacts out of the stuff – and lovely it was too. “God I’m freezing” I said to Cheryl the owner. “Don’t have a spare jumper do you?” She shouted for her husband “Nathan, this guy’s got a problem with his car. Have you got some jumpers?” Sorry? What’s she talking about? I soon realised that to Canadians a Jumper is a set of jump leads, whereas what we call a Jumper they call a Sweater! That sorted she kindly gave me one of their corporate promotional ones for free – how kind. “Where do I queue for the coffee?” I asked. “What? I don’t understand” she continued/ "What’s “Queue?” In the end I realised that they call it a “line” not a queue. Talk about nations divided only by a common language!!

Fortified we pressed onwards and upwards ... well that is for about another 20 miles when I realised that old “Bertie” was beginning to slow down. I suspected that he too was beginning to freeze, and for that read the dreaded freezing of his twin SU carburettors hung out there in the front of the car for the wind, rain and freezing weather to get at. Power down, we limped along, until at one point he coughed to a standstill on a hill. Nothing to do but to either wait in the rain for him to warm up, or to pee on his carbs again. Having relieved myself and himself of the problem, we carried on ... and eventually staggered into our lunchtime stop at “MaMa Z’s Jade Boulder Cafe” – don’t you just love these names!! We left “Bertie” to warm up from the heat sink of his engine, whilst we went in under cover and did the same to us ... via a bowl of soup and a hot coffee.

With only 140 miles on the clock and still 150 miles to go, we couldn’t hang around. Jumped on board, did the usual cockpit checks, and fired up the car. No, “Bertie” was having none of it. The starter was dead. Under the bonnet to find out why, and for whatever reason he just decided to come out of his sulk and fire up when we tried again. David Cohen also kindly squirted “RainX”, an American product designed to waterproof glass, on my goggles and windscreen to try and reduce the impact of the blinding rain. Off we set again, but didn’t get very far. “Bertie” was again freezing up, indeed the butterfly plates and the spindles of the barbs froze in open position, the engine roared up to 4,500 revs screaming its head off, and I had to hit the magnetos off to stop the engine from blowing itself apart!

No choice now but to get out and do some doctoring. Not wanting to get Kevin Clark involved, our resident mechanic, given that it is now 2 whole days without involving him, we sorted it out ourselves. Some old socks were forced over the SU pots and I dug out the ground sheet and with duck tape wrapped it over the stone guard at the front to provide the whole carburettor assembly with a wind shield. For good measure I also fitted again the radiator gaiters to the bottom half, to try and raise the engine temperature. Finally, and throwing all convention to the wind, we put up the hood! No ... you didn’t put up the hood did you, I hear you all saying. What a wimp! Well why not, since everyone else in a W O Bentley had long since give up fighting the elements and had joined the wimp’s brigade!

The final part of the trip was uneventful, on long fast roads with a chance to build up some speed. One final drama was to be played out however, when at 295miles down the line, and only 2 kilometres from the Hotel, “Bertie” started to back fire from fuel starvation. Now my 35 gallon tank has 30 gallons plus a 5 gallon reserve. So at 295 miles he was slurping at the bottom of the barrel so to speak. A couple of flame throwers out of the exhaust aimed at Neil and Sheila Carpenter in their 1930 4 ½ litre WO Bentley following close behind, and we coasted to a halt no more than 500 yards from the hotel. Fortunately the reserve switch worked, and so no dreaded “Rearender” award for old “Bertie” today then.

We checked into Bell II Lodge, a favourite apparently with helicopter off Piste skiers. Room is fine, designed in a sort of Austria Tyrolean way, but they have the world’s highest charge for using their Internet ... a whopping C$25 ... and if that weren’t bad enough when I signed on there was nothing waiting for me! What a swiz!

Talking of being Pisted, tonight’s dinner was reserved specifically for W O Bentley owners only (i.e. pre 1031 Cricklewood built cars) and what a hoot it was. The remainder of the rally, made up of the slower Darby Bentleys etc had been directed onto the town of Stewart ... a further 100 miles down the line (seems illogical to me too?).  Armed with mouth organs we were all required to sing and mime a song. I did “Whistle while you work!”  complete with “dig dig dig” actions of one of the 7 dwarfs. All we needed was a conga through the restaurant to the tune of “The Birdie” song, complete with arm actions to prove that we are all juvenile delinquents at heart!

Sheila Carpenter sitting at our table said “I now wished I owned a Darby Bentley!” ... code for get me out of here, this is too embarrassing for words. Highly embarrassing maybe, but great fun. Time for Dopey to get to bed! Night night!

Sarah Hall offers this report as she was with the non-W.O. group in Stewart;

After an early start we turned onto Junction 37 South, and found ourselves on a pleasant narrowish back road, and thought ‘this is ok’ the day won’t be too long if it stays like this.

However, after many ups and downs, the ice heaves and areas of gravel started to appear, many of the ice heaves were harmless, and Mike began to ignore the signs, until ‘the one’, which looked very innocent, but was hiding the big brother of all tire wrenching lumps ever seen.

We were very relived to stop at the Jade shop (only shop in 300 miles) where the lovely owner forced coffee into our hands, which took away the chill of the early morning. Whilst Mike was trying to wake up I hastily searched though all the lovely pieces of Jade. Fortified by his second cup, Mike chocked and paid up.  It was then my turn to drive and unfortunately the tarmac we had been on disappeared  the road went back to being gravel, which because of the rain wasn’t dusty, just slippery, filthy and of course to me scary!

Several of the faster cars overtook, sometimes where appropriate, sometimes not ‘plus sans change’.  After I don’t know how many miles the road went back to tarmac, and we pulled into the lunch stop, too early for the meal provided (unfortunately, as I’ve been told it was delicious).

I cannot describe how lovely the all the scenery – think The Alps – times by 4 and then you might be somewhere near  I was overjoyed to see horses by the side of the road, with big cow bells on.

More of the amazing scenery and then the tea stop at Bell II Lodge.  Back on the road for the newer cars, warm rooms, and showers for the older.

We were rewarded for our extra journey to Stewart, by mountains, racing rivers, fallen trees from last winter’s avalanches and glaciers, one of which was conveniently placed so photos could be taken, also fortunately by this time the rain had stopped.

We arrived in Stewart, very much a one donkey town, a very much smaller version of Dawson City, without the renovations and one main street.

Driving round to the Ripley Creek Inn we were greeted by chickens scratching in the dirt, Bernard sitting happily outside saying that Liz was off bear hunting in the centre of the town (as usual we saw no bear) and a very ramshackle looking building.

With reluctance we dragged our suitcases upstairs, to find a charming large room with balcony and distant views to the sea.

More cars arrived and Liz came back with her trophy, Bernard claimed that Liz had frightened the bear away, after all he was scared of her.

We explored the rest of the hotel on the other side of the chickens road and found a delightful lounge with fireplace. After that we had a very quick walk around the town, and found the museum at the front of the hotel, which was dedicated to toasters, I asked at reception and the owner of the museum just happened to be there so we got a private guided tour, I was surprised and delighted by the many old toasters and sandwich toasters (which dated back to the 1920s).  The owner explained that his parents were Dutch, so toast wasn’t common place when he was growing up, hence his interest in toasters.  The Grants and the Smiths returned from their jaunt into America to get cocktails and proudly showed us their Canadian Bear stamp on their passports, Ishbel had also had her first ever ride on a motorbike, supplied by a Harley Davidson riders in Hyder, USA.  Then everyone decided it was time for a drink.  (Unusual that).

We went to the King Edward Hotel for dinner, promptly for once as everyone was looking forward to the King Crabs.  The crabs were delicious and for some of us we couldn’t manage all of them, much to the delight of the others who couldn’t get enough of them.

Back to the lounge and more joviality and sinning, fortunately someone sensible suggested bed time before all the rugby songs started and we all happily went to bed.

Other notes of interest: yesterday, Paul Sinclair (car No. 20) earned his wings as his farther finally capitulated and allowed him to drive “Bertie Blower.” He did a great job and was toasted tonight at Bell II Lodge.  Despite the wet weather, all cars made it to destination with Ian Holdaway (car No. 5) arriving last – there is a first for everything and he never expected this. Four of the five W.O.s from the WABDC had their hoods up today and it can be reported that Adrian Cook (car No.9) did not capitulate. Adrian also hosted the evening at Bell II and great fun was had by all with the kazoo now becoming the instrument of choice for the Bentley Boys.

For three weeks now, Bibbi Stebbing has been trying to get Roger Goodwin (aka “Sweetheart”) to call her by her name and not “Biddi,” we’ll see this week coming up if the message has sunk home.

Day 18 - Day 19 (June 18 to June 19)

Kurt Furger, using his free day to get ahead of the Tour, gave this report:

 

Day 18. Roger and I took off with the Smart car ahead of the other Tour participants, our assignment: supervise the loading of the cars in Nugget City for transportation to Vancouver. Stopped at Carcross Desert, known as the smallest desert in the world. It was created by a retreated glacial lake leaving behind nothing but sand. The winds from Bennet Lake have prevented vegetation from taking hold. Stopped in Teslin for lunch at Dawson's Peak Resort on the lake and had a coffee and cigar outside on the balcony, i.e. 15 ft from the building, respecting the new smoking law. Saw a Grizzly bear on the side of the road munching away. Arrived back in Nugget City, population less than 50, where the three Bentleys were stranded. They were well taken care of by Linda & Scott, the owners of the hotel here. They moved here 15 years ago and started the place from scratch, today it’s a million $ business. Doug and Penny from B.C. who take care of the RV park for the season are here in the their 38 ft Holiday Rambler right next to the three sad Bentleys and kept an extra eye on them. They invited us in for a nice chat and showed us the inside of the motor home which sports a 350 hp Caterpillar engine right under the master bed.

Day 19. Most of the people we met on the way from Whitehorse to Nugget City were well aware of the Bentley tour and their adventures. They know that the three cars broke down and that some in the group showed a lack of respect for the local liquor laws in Whitehorse, carrying drinks from inside the Hotel to the outside. The day for Roger and I started as promised washing the Grants, Young’s and our car. The Smart car also needed a face lift as the little white car was black in the front from mosquito bodies. Supervised the loading of the three cars in the early afternoon. A flat bed lifted them up and put them on to the long distance enclosed trailer. The tie down of the cars was in Yukon style: a couple of two by fours nailed down in the front and back tires, no straps. The assumption is no sudden stops. In any case the cars are now on their way to Ft. Nelson and then via another stop to the Vancouver shipping company. The exact route is not yet known, but we are all hoping for the best. After a steak dinner we enjoyed the northern lights show in Watson Lake.

 Other notes of interest: a tired crowd enjoyed the northern lights show last night and many used the time of soothing music and images to catch up on much needed sleep. One of the Bentley Alaska Tour license plates was now been added to the sign-post forest in Watson lake - one of the few legitimate pieces in one of the largest collections of stolen property on public display.  All Tour participants are happy to be putting both Watson Lake and Nugget city behind them.

Day 18 (June 18)

Niki Follows rejoined the Tour in Anchorage and sent her son Jasper back to Vancouver – apparently he was not too happy about this but will join us again later. For our free day in Whitehorse, Niki has provided the following:

I was awoken by the sounds of jet engines – military? – but slid back into sleep as today was a “free day.” A free day in the North could mean rides on a paddlewheel boat, driving to Skagway (2 hours there and back across the border in Alaska), visiting a sled-dog Husky Centre, fishing, hiking, museums, golf, hot springs at Takhini or just doing nothing.

Somehow the day became one of accomplishment. The sun was out and the post-breakfast crowd began dismantling Bentleys in the car park. Robert tightened a wheel bearing, rotated a few tires and, generally, behaved like a proper car guy. I hung out in the lobby trying to needlework in the semi-darkness. The busiest hotspot in the hotel was not the bar, but the laundry room. Much advice was exchanged and shared on laundry rooms we have all known and advantages and disadvantages of “sending it out!” We women most preferred the latter, but I understand that several chaps have actually lost their trousers on this trip. I won’t mention any names.

Lunch was enjoyed in mid-afternoon – half a gigantic cinnamon bun saved from Buckshot Betty’s and 2 yoghurts from breakfast. One of the best things about car tours is the freedom of n cooking! We walked the streets of Whitehorse in the afternoon. The bookstore was fantastic with more car magazines than most shops in a city. Lots of interesting things to buy like: ivory carvings and jewelry from “found” mammoth bones, tusks, and teeth – a thriving artist community that belied its ordinariness architecturally. What could beat a log cabin with dueling horned moose – life-sized – on the roof and the sign reading “HAUTE COUTURE.”

And tonight we’ll be watching huskies trying to pull a 1923 Bentley – a great free day.

Other notes of interest: last night, June 17, the Tour retuned to Whitehorse from Tok. This was the longest drive of the Tour thus far, 624 kilometers or 387 miles, with all cars, in the apt words of Terry Unwin, “porpoising” along Highway 2 in Alaska and through Tetlin National Wildlife Refuge. Whitehorse is a rest day to repair cars, see the local sights, do nothing, or as many participants have commented, do anything that does not require driving. All vehicles made it in safely although car No. 2, driven by Nowell and Bibbi Stebbing, came in on the trailer as their Bentley lost power at the Canadian border. The Canadian Border guard was a refreshing change after dealing with one of the Americans at Poker Creek.

Other news is that Mike and Josie Thompson, car No. 6, have arrived in Whitehorse and finally joined the Tour.  They drove about 2,620 kilometers (1,640 miles) in two and a bit days from Vancouver in their Bentley, Smokey. Welcome and congratulations. It was also Etienne Veen’s birthday and, although he was trying to slide it through beneath the radar, word leaked out and it was celebrated at dinner.

Quote of the day: Bev Smith called Dr. Mike Morgan's coon-skin hat "a bit of old roadkill." 

Day 16 - Day 17 (June 16 to June 17)

The following report was submitted by Peter Harnik:

Days 16 Anchorage to Tok:

 

Already thinking of the grind for the following day we were up early, largely packed and down for breakfast before 0730. Good selection of fruit and juices but a curious interpretation of cooked breakfast at the Marriott – steaming water in all three chafing dishes. Seems they might have reversed the start times for the ‘free’ day and a normal day. In time some cholesterol did appear, including some lovely sliced kielbasa sausage in which we partook.

Outside, the weather is cloudy and cool which, given our real or imagined temperature issues with MR3393, is not unwelcome. Finally loaded after an annoying pas de deux with some taxis who would move to occupy a space just when one had drawn a bead on it, we were on the road.

First stop was the Musk Ox Farm at around 45 miles. There were 59 animals in all including 5 from this year’s issue. Once nearly hunted to extinction in North America, they were repopulated from animals in Greenland and now there are 3,000 in Alaska and, reportedly, some 150,000 next door in Canada. Though they were said to be wild, the ones we saw, especially the yearlings which came to the paddock next to the Visitor center, seemed quite passive and readily accepted the bunches of dandelions which Andrew Davies supplied them. It was here that the writer finally gave in and swaddled his torn shoe with some fashionable black duct tape. For those wondering, it would have been done earlier but one had been concerned that he might be mistaken for one of the regular Anchorage residents loitering around the Marriott, and the timing of the ‘rest’ day and some car tinkering with Kevin until the early hours of Day 16 meant that there was no time for a shopping expedition in Alaska’s largest city.

Having done our cultural requirement for the day, we gave Wolf Country a pass and soldiered on Matanuska way. The clouds gradually broke away and what had been shrouded in low level fog on day 13 revealed itself gradually. While not balmy, it was easily 10C higher than our previous trip through the same route. At one stage on the road, Trevor and we were behind an RV who had trouble understanding the concept of steady speed. When a break to pass, Trevor shot out only to have the clod squat on the center line. Some klaxon sounding and appropriate hand gestures were sufficient to get the miscreant back on side and them safely past. I must say he was much better behaved when we were able to swing by him. The ensuing road works meant a nice rest stop while the sign lady took the opportunity to learn Trevor and Judy Eastwood’s life story and they hers. Eventually we too were peppered with the inevitable  ‘what year?’ A: “’29” ‘how fast will it go?’ A: “fast enough to be ticketed” type exchanges, at which point we were suddenly freed to roll. A quick photo stop and the Matanuska Glacier rest area for photos was followed by a long run , past the suggested lunch stop, the gem (with roaring fire on Day 13) found by the Hammonds and on to lay-by that was favored with some direct sunlight where we snacked on some food brought along for the purpose.

After another hour or so, the writer became ‘tired’ as one would say in Blighty and rather than nod off asked the navigator if she’s like a shift at the wheel, which she did all the way to the Golden Bear in Tok – so probably the last 80 miles of the journey. The only interesting observation I could make about the stretch was that the perspective of the different direction made the mountains seem much less snowy. Of course they weren’t shrouded in mist and fog, either.

Day 17 Tok to Whitehorse:

The day we have been dreading arrived. 387 miles plus  a border crossing and the loss of an hour due to time zone. Usual Tok departure weather – lowish clouds and cold showers – had been laid on. Figuring if we could make it from Tok to Anchorage at 3/4C with the top down, we could do it this time, too. So as not to push our luck too much, however, we lodged MR3393 under an accommodating pedestrian shelter in the Westmark’s parking lot while at the breakfast trough.

Fed, watered, and postcard stamped, we set off around 0815 and quickly formed a fast moving caravan led by Terry and Wendy Unwin, Trevor and Judy Eastwood and John Dickinson and Charles McGowan for all of about 8 miles until we hit the first of what would be many roadworks stoppages for the day. Once freed of that we powered up the climb, finally stopping at the Tetlin National Wildlife visitor area to test the quality of their sanitary facilities. Many and excellent, was the conclusion.

Then it was on the ‘border’. First the Canadian side. About midway through the rather wide (20 mile) neutral zone, we came to major road works number two, where we cooled our heels for a long time behind John and Duncan Fairclough and in front of the always quick Andrew and Ann Davies. It was a long one, during which we passed the time by counting terrorists melting into the tundra. Though we tried to get Osama’s autograph, he declined. The border crossing, reached 10 minutes after we were free to roll was quick. We truthfully denied having any firearms and truthfully interpreted the question regarding alcohol to refer to such purchased in the US of which we had almost none as to also being a ‘no’. Ours, you see, was from Whitehorse. The way had been well prepared by David Beddows so we were through in a thrice and though tempted to stop at the following town and visit with Buckshot Betty, we soldiered on until the inevitable call of nature led us – like John and Charles just before us – to the Koldern River Lodge at probably 130 miles under the keel. The owners, Jim and Dorothy Cook, have inhabited the place since 1969 and from a brief inspection, have never met a rock that they didn’t want to take home with them. It also appears they may have every bit of automotive equipment they have ever driven around on the property somewhere. Dorothy, who regrettably has some form of cancer, is a keen gardener and Yoko took time to examine her rhubarb, beans and the greenhouse. Unfortunately it was too early for her pie, which is reportedly excellent. Before we used the wash rooms, Jim also advised Yoko to be careful because they had seen a 7’ grizzly only that morning.. Her need for relief suddenly gone, it was only when he added that the grizzly had an elephant in its mouth that she knew she had been taken.

Towards the end of our stay there a WO thundered by at speed and once we were rolling the other 6.5L with Roger and Gillian Goodwin pottered by at a stately pace. Our guess that the previous thunderers were David and Kate Ayre was quickly confirmed as we rolled up to the next road works which was actually a pond works – the culvert had developed a blockage and so they were pumping water from one side of the road to the other – in sessions of 20 minutes at a time. The advantages of our more sedate pace were quickly realized as instead of enjoying the full 20 minute treatment accorded the Goodwin/Ayre flight, we only were there for around 5 minutes when the pumpers tired of looking at increasing numbers of the Tour and freed us. David and Roger flashed off only to be caught again at the Talbot Arms gas stand in Destruction Bay where they were challenging the pumping capability of the sole Premium pump. It took ages and in fact Roger observed that he probably would have been better off had he simply left it running while he went to lunch. The rest of the crowd gradually filtered in (though John, Ishbell, Kurt and Roger aka the Subaru Boys, had slinked away shortly after we arrived). Since we were only a little past halfway (225 miles) after splitting a quick bowl of soup and sandwich and watching with interest while a participant who shall remain anonymous had a series of credit cards declined (from the writer’s experience undoubtedly because the UK bank was saving them from certain credit card fraud – why would one ever use one abroad- especially outside of the EU…), we finally paid up and soldiered on our way, through another set of gravel and road works at what one believes was the Sheep Mountain-Soldier’s Summit reconstruction works. The dust along the way was dreadful and we had some interesting times when a couple of semis (lorries to you, probably) poured by and visibility was reduced to 10’ or so. I should probably mention that the overpowering experience of the run through the Kluane River Valley was of the wind, either a direct headwind or quartering causing some interesting steering challenges and certainly a challenge for the engine to overcome. The other was the road quality which probably gives one an idea of the winter conditions they must encounter. What we never worked out was how they labeled some as ‘dip’ or ‘rough surface’ while others with holes, chasms or gravel mounded high deserved no mention. Must just be having fun with the RVers…

In due course we passed through Haines Junction and used the Haines Junction Monument to wildlife to add pictures of a horned moose and some Dall Sheep to our photo collection. At precisely mile 300 of the day, a convenient rest area allowed some relief and a driver change. No sooner were we rolling again than the Davies/Graham convey appeared in the rearview at flank speed and subsequently passed us. As Andrew was leading, however, they were able to discern the correct side of the road and immediately returned to the right hand lane. Our navigator/driver decided to run with them for a while and did well enough to keep them in sight and even held close enough for some scenic snaps, as a new set of mountains had appeared. They subsequently peeled off to a rest area and so we motored on, largely in solace, the rest of the way in until we were caught by the R-Type Conti BC15D driven by the Smiths and we motored in tandem the last few miles to the Klondike, finally arriving at 1801 local time.

Animals seen over the two days: Swan - 5, Ravens - 2 , Ducks (type not distinguishable at 65 MPH) – 3, Hawks – 2, weasel – 1, rabbit (dead) – 1, horses – 6, Elk – 0 (signs for Elk – 61) and of course the Musk Ox, but that doesn’t really count.

Other notes of interest: for those cars bringing up the end, the lunch stop was in Beaver Creek, just past Canadian customs, at Buckshot Betty’s instead of the Talbot Arm Restaurant 200 kilometers down the road. Tony Sinclair (car No. 20) was leaving just as a gust of wind brought in a dark cloud that released a barrage of rain and hail stones – with his 4.5 litre SC, he was able to stay ahead of the storm that was moving eastward. For the rest of the people at Buckshot Betty’s, they were stuck until this freak storm abated.

Day 15 (June 15)

By John Grant, with “technical assistance” from Kurt Furger, very kindly provided the following report:

Today was one of the shortest driving days from anchorage to Whittier and back. However, tow of our keen fishermen, John and Charles, rented a car and went off at 3:00 am to Cooper Landing, a two and a half hour drive for a day’s fishing on the Kenai River. We thought they were a little crazy but they caught 15 sockeye salmon. Well done!

We went off at 9:00 am to drive along the Turnagain Arm, part of the Cook Inlet just outside Anchorage. Once again we hit the jackpot with the weather, a lovely sunny day with blue sky. The scenery was similar to the west coast of Scotland although the mountains are a little higher and have more snow.

Alaska’s most famous bore tide, a high wave or series of waves, advances down the Turnagain in a wall of water up to 10 feet high. The tide was out exposing the mud flats.

The passenger train, Alaskan Princess, which runs from Whittier to Anchorage, passed us at Bord creek, surely one of the most scenic railway journeys in the world.

All the Bentleys met up at 11:00 am at the entrance of the 2.5 mile Anton Anderson memorial Tunnel which goes through the mountain to Whittier. Normally open-top cars are prohibited, but the mayor of Whittier made an exception for the Bentleys provided the occupants wore heard hats.

Whittier is a small village with an old, very large, derelict concrete building dominating the village. Apparently this was an army barracks, but because it is full of asbestos and lead paint, it cannot be demolished. The newer, concrete tall building was the officer’s quarters and this is where the population of 153 people stay in winter. We were told that 46% of Alaska’s freight comes in through the port/rail head at Whittier.

We boarded the catamaran Klondike Express for 135 mile cruise in Prince William Sound.

The views were stunning, this is how we all imagined Alaska. Snow-capped mountains, 26 glaciers, many icebergs of various shapes and sizes, and a great variety of wildlife. A favourite were the sea otters, about twice the size of the otters we see in the U.K. These otters gather together in ‘rafts” and lie on their backs in the sea as though sunbathing.

We were very close to the glaciers for many spectacular photos, and then, on the return to Whittier, close to the cliffs where a large colony of Kittiwakes nest. The noise of the birds was incredible.

We repeated the journey back through the tunnel to Anchorage having seen Alaska as it appears in books and films in the best weather possible.

Most of us headed to Simon & Seafort’s Restaurant to enjoy the local seafood. The halibut cheeks were delicious!

Deciding not to drive to Whittier with the rest of the pack and have a true day off, Anchorage was explored by Liz Darby:

 

A day off to wonder round the city; tented until 1915 when the population was around 2,000 people. In 2009, the population is 282,813. For a city it is quite quiet. Crossing the road does not entail taking your life into your hands. There is also room to stand and enjoy the spectacular display of flowers and hanging baskets which are all over the city. Tulips and Narcissi mid-June are a first for me.

 

There are two military/air-force bases here to the North of the city. Jet planes from here give a free air display whilst on training exercises. How they don’t crash into the numerous private and civil aircraft around amazes me.

 

This afternoon I was in quilting heaven at the Quilted raven quilt shop and drop-jawed at the vast number of souvenir shops all displaying taste and tack in equal quantities. Inevitable I suppose where there is a gathering of tourists.

 

The oldest building I have seen was built in 1915, old by Anchorage standards. A great number of buildings were destroyed in the 1964 Good Friday earthquake: 9.2 was the official measurement.  The soil here is clay; landslides caused the greatest losses and, during the quake and the tsunami which followed, his Alaska’s coastal communities badly.

 

From our room we have a spectacular view of the Knik Arm of the Cook Inlet and the start of the Chugach Mountains. Supper tonight will have to be Alaskan king crab. Having watched the T.V. programme, The World’s Deadliest Catch, about the men who fish for them, sometimes in gale-force winds and mountainous seas, I shall savour every mouthful.

 

To sum up – an interesting day.

Other notes of interest: both Bernard and Liz consumed Alaskan king crab and have not stopped raving about the quantity of meat the crab has as well as how sweat and delicate the flavours are. They are also looking forward to dine on this delicacy again in Stewart.

Day 14 (June 14)

Duncan Young, while not playing the ivories, continues on the keyboard:

At Tok we were divided not for dinner but for accommodation between two motels; the defining feature of one being the all too evident bedsprings and the other the charming exhortation in each room to squash any mosquito found with the thoughtfully provided fly-swat - the rooms were sensibly painted all over with hard-gloss paint.

The next day started with drizzle but soon began to clear, but it was cold and got colder as the cars began to climb. The road surface was beguilingly smooth at first, but soon began to develop an interesting switchback effect, charming at first but soon beginning to induce a feeling of sea sickness in the scribe’s navigator, a sensation otherwise known as permafrost heave. There was warning on road signs of the “dip”, but no mention of the “hump”, something which one could easily get in the circumstances. However the view was delightful and enhanced by the lupins, prickly roses and dandelions thoughtfully planted by nature along the edges of the road. In the distance, mountains could be seen coming into view, shrouded by cloud, but still showing enough of their skirts to intrigue one as to what was behind the cloud layer. These were the Alaskan mountain range on the right and the Wrangell Mountains to the left.

On we climbed eventually reaching Glenallen on the Glenn Highway, ahead of which lay Valdez which was a town slightly off our route. It is famous for having an earthquake on Good Friday 1964 which reached 9.2 on the Richter scale (believed to be the highest ever recorded figure in the North Americas). The old town was completely destroyed but has been rebuilt four miles or so away.

It was getting colder and colder by the time we reached the recommended lunch stop at Eureka Lodge. 3 degrees Celsius was logged by one car, in contrast to the 80 degrees Fahrenheit logged the day before at the same place. The staff at the lodge was charming and efficient and soon had people looking more cheerful with fish and chips and other warming dishes. Additional layers of clothing were stolen or borrowed or just added for the onward journey.

The wildlife report: your scribe spotted a fox and an Arctic hare which had mysteriously turned brown. Earlier reports by others indicated the existence of a porcupine but the only one we saw was flattened in the middle of the road.

No punctures were reported today.

All cars safely completed the day, but there were a few problems. Car no.18 suffered a ruptured oil feed which was resolved with some rubber hose and clips. Car no. 5 broke a coupling in the drive shaft to its overdrive box (a spare carried on the car was to be fitted at Anchorage), and Car no. 20 initially continued to suffer from icing to its exposed carburettors, a problem which was solved by the addition of insulation in the form of thermal socks (they initially looked quite clean) and further sophisticated wind protection by the addition of some cardboard..

Then a splendid dinner to celebrate our arrival at the furthest point from Vancouver. Glasses were raised in toasts to the organisers and helpers for all they had done, to the club and naturally to W.O. The dreaded Rear Ender award was given to Dr Mike Morgan for his efforts to elude the US immigration and customs formalities at Poker Creek (see yesterday’s report). The festivities concluded with the inaugural performance of the Bentley jig by the ladies, who were all amazingly energetic considering the hour and the rigours of the day.

Rear Ender Award

Even though you are now aware of who was awarded the Rear Ender, it might be useful to know that Peter Morelli gave honourable mention to the following people before announcing the winner: a lady from "Darbyshire" (not really from "Darbyshire" but here name is Darby) for her dancing prowess at the Sourdough Saloon; to the two very tired Dutch speakers who slept through most of the riverboat cruise; to the Englishman who brought a Bentley with exposed carburetors to the great white frozen north of Alaska; and to Roger Goodwin for calling himself “Sweetheart” and the associated antics at Diamond Tooth Gerties.  

Dr. Mike Morgan (car No. 33), sporting a coon-skin Davie Crocket hat,  was the clear winner for failing to stop at the Poker Creek border crossing and had a border guard chase him down. He was ordered back behind the stop line before being ordered to proceed again in the next breath thus satisfying the authority of the U.S. border service. Being a foreigner from the U.K., he was provided the utmost courtesy although the people that followed him were almost provided the rubber-glove treatment by a still irate and fuming border guard.

Being a medical doctor, Mike stood up and told people that they should neither be laughing nor getting sick within the next 7 days. He then proceeded, in medical terms, to compare the Rear Ender to a “squashed rectum” before thanking everyone who made it possible ending off with, “I ablute you.” He then related a variation of the following joke:

Bill's all excited about his new rifle. So, he goes bear hunting in Alaska.

The first bear he sees is a little brown bear, and he kills it with his first shot. There is a tap on his shoulder, and he turns around to see a big black bear.

The black bear says "You've got 2 choices. One, I maul you to death or Two, we have sex."

Bill bends over for the bear. He's sore for 2 days, but he recovers and vows revenge.

Bill heads out on another trip to Alaska and he finds the black bear and kills him. At that moment there is a tap on his shoulder. A huge grizzly is standing right behind him.

The grizzly says, "That was a big mistake. You've got 2 choices, "Either I maul you to death or we have sex."

Bill bends over. He survives, but he's really hurting and takes quite a bit of time to recover, and, he's outraged. Sure enough, he heads back to Alaska and finds the grizzly and shoots him at point blank range.

There's a tap on his shoulder. He turns around to find an enormous polar bear, and the polar bear says, "You don't really come here for the hunting, do you?"

Mike Morgan has now become aware that people around him are about to become more polite, as well as his radius of personal space will increase, until the Rear Ender finds a new home.

Day 13 (June 13)

The following report was contributed by Duncan Young:

Several new challenges presented themselves this morning: a steady drizzle, recovery from the fleshpots of Dawson City the night before, and a journey across the water. First there was a photo-shoot with the local newspaper photographer in front of one of Dawson’s historic buildings ( the one owned by Parks Canada and deliberately left unrestored so as to show what can happen when restoration is not undertaken - with permafrost heave taking place come and look at a pile of wood in ten years time), and then to the car ferry across the Yukon which took about ten cars at a time (or five if an RV was on the ferry). This involved driving on the left of the road to get on the ferry (Canada’s only such road?).

The ferry is replaced when the Yukon river is frozen by an ice bridge created by drilling a hole in the ice and drawing water up which is sprayed on the ice to form a highway six or eight feet deep above the natural level of the river.

Once across the river we were on the Top of the World Highway, a dirt road that led us upwards past the most northerly golf course in the world to what would have been magnificent views had it not been for the low cloud which also reduced visibility on the road at times to a matter of yards. The driving conditions were difficult - constant rain, cold, mist and quite slippery roads, and when there was the odd break in the conditions one could see the most magnificent vistas of endless mountains and valleys, snow and scrub (and also the drop previously unnoticed in the mist and rain). The pine trees became more stunted and as the tundra closed in, one could almost sense the permafrost nearing the surface. Finally we reached the border crossing into Alaska at Poker Creek, the most northerly of all the border crossings from Canada into Alaska and only manned in summer and during the day. The crossing itself took a little while but would have taken much longer had it not been for the organisation that had gone into providing the US customs with most of the information they required ahead of time and the help received from the baggage team who had identified all the baggage in the truck for the authorities.

The US customs were helpful, but punctilious. No problems here except for those who had failed to bring any US dollars for the $6.00 visa waiver fee and for those who decided to drive straight through the border without stopping and who were then required to reverse into Canada (an unusual way of revisiting a country). After fingerprinting and photographing other parts of the anatomy, we were all allowed in with the most wonderful caribou stamps in our passports. There was a kind lady (one half of Poker Creek’s population of two) at the border who provided washroom facilities which were welcome after the cold and wet and mud of the drive so far.

So off we set for our lunchtime session at Chicken (a gold mining community so named because, it is said, the first settlers had difficulty in spelling Ptarmigan, the local bird that resembles a chicken and was a prime food source). A population of 36 was swelled by our numbers and those attending the annual Bluegrass Music Festival, artfully described as “Chickenstock.” David Webster ,to the delight of all, produced his violin. He joined the performers in a set, and was rewarded by a photo being taken of his car in front of the stage with all the performers around it. The photo will form the cover of their next album. So don’t forget the royalties, David.

Thankfully by the afternoon then sun had come out and most people, and cars, were drying out and the dirt road after Chicken had become a sealed highway . The spectacular scenery which lay behind the mist and rain of the morning was not quite so evident in the afternoon, but most were quite tired from the exertions of the morning and were pleased to roll into Tok, 187 miles from Dawson City in the mid-afternoon. Not a long drive compared to other days, but it took place in perhaps the most arduous conditions so far met on the tour.

No real disasters during a hard day. Your scribe’s replacement non-Bentley had a puncture which involved using one of those infuriating space saver spare wheels (serve him right for not being in a Bentley). Car number 3 also had a puncture which on repair fortunately disclosed a cracked wheel which was also repaired. Car number 20 suffered loss of power from the carburettors next to the supercharger icing on the Top of the World Highway which resolved itself when the conditions improved.

On the wildlife front your scribe only had one sighting, but it was of a splendid moose, standing disdainfully in the middle of the road. Inevitably by the time the camera was out it had sauntered into the bush and cleverly disappeared from sight.

So on to Anchorage, our point on the tour furthest from the start, tomorrow.

Chickenstock

The town of Chicken, Alaska, that should have been called Ptarmigan, was planning their annual “Chickenstock Music Festival.” As they had been made aware of the Bentley Alaska Tour coming through their town on June 13, 2009, they specially arranged to have it begin a day early. This being a Tour of many firsts, herewith is a report by someone who felt the spirit of the festival, David Webster:

Strange to relate, but I did bring my fiddle with me on the Tour. I have had great fun on several nights singing songs and playing music with Duncan Young on the piano. However, at Dawson City, we met up with a local piano player, Dwayne Kelly, in one of the bars and had a great time playing and improvising on all the “old standards.” Then we all assembled before the evening meal and Dwayne and I played while the Tour members sang Bentley songs to the surprise of everyone in the pub.

Moving on our northerly route towards Anchorage, we stopped at Chicken, a small settlement of 6 people who had arranged a bluegrass music festival where many people from all over the area had travelled for a weekend of music, camping, and entertainment.

We arrived at lunchtime on Saturday and sat and listened to wonderful bluegrass music from bands and soloists who played on a makeshift stage constructed from a lorry platform with a tarpaulin backdrop.

The organizer, knowing that I played the fiddle, gave me an introduction to one of the bands (The River Boys from Fairbanks) and I joined them to play a dozen tunes. Never having played bluegrass before, this was quite a challenge and great fun. The audience of about 200 people knew the band well and appreciated the inclusion of a fiddle in the band.

In return, at the end, I drove the Bentley to the front of the stage and, for their last number, we played with the car as the “star” attraction. Cameras were clicking like mad from all the audience and, at the very end, we arranged a special grouping of the band around the car for them to use as a publicity shot – probably for their next album cover.

What David failed to mention was that, by playing with The River Boys, he made it the first ever “Chickenstock International Music Festival.” Both his presence and his Bentley created a huge stir there which I’m sure will be talked about for years to come.

One more thing almost forgotten, Andrew Davies (car No. 1), the chicken farmer from Shropshire, arrived in Chicken and found a town that called to his heart. He was a one man stimulus plan for the gift shop where he had to purchase all things "chicken" related.

Dawson City by Ed Hammond

 

Twenty years ago we travelled the Rockies in a camper wagon but got no further north than Jasper and Prince George, so for us, Dawson City was certainly a high point on the Tour so far. We were surprised to find that so many of the original wooden  building still remain, some carefully restored  but many hardly touched since they were built and now in various stages of decay. The dusty street and tired boardwalks made it easy to imagine what it had been like 100 years ago. The outstanding pianist in the Sourdough Saloon sparked off spontaneous singing sessions to rival any raucous BDC evening. The river trip on a paddle steamer and an evening at diamond Tooth Gerties rounded off a memorable stay in the historic capital of the Yukon.

Day 11 (June 11)

The following report was contributed by Beverley Smith:

The drive from Whitehorse to Dawson City was long and with little variation in scenery.

Points of interest for us, other than the mighty Yukon River, were the mosquitoes which would compare favourably with the New Zealand West Coasters. We were also amazed at the extent of the various forest fires which had occurred in years gone by.

Dawson City was a pleasant surprise. The atmosphere of the historic old gold-mining town was successfully created with the rendition of many of the old buildings, the replication of others, the dusty old streets with boardwalks, the saloon bar with swinging doors, a great pianist and dancer Liz Darby.

Other highlights were drinking with the locals at the Westminster Hotel (est. 1989), fine dining at the Aurora Inn, and the 1956 Pierre Bertan documentary on the rush to find gold and the establishment of Dawson City.

The discovery of gold resulted in the dramatic conversion of an Indian summer fishing camp, sited at the confluence of the Yukon and Klondike Rivers, to a bustling city.

Crossing the Yukon on the ferry this morning, it was difficult to imagine that for most of the year the same river is covered with several feet of ice and the ferry replaced with an ‘ice bridge.’

Other notes of interest: at this time of year, the sun never sets this far north and it was amazing to experience daylight at midnight and beyond – many internal clocks were thrown onto disarray. The Westminster Hotel seems never to close, even first thing in the morning the patrons are already boozing it up. When one regular was asked if it was not too early to drink as it was not even near noon, he replied that one did not need either a reason or an excuse to drink. Nonetheless, the interesting characters and decor make it a must see in Dawson City.

People had a free day in Dawson City to fix their cars if needed, catch up on laundry, visit the sights, or do nothing. Many enjoyed a lunch on the river boat and a 2 hour tour on the river. The planned entertainment was in the evening at Diamond Tooth Gerties, Gambling Hall and Can Can Show. At the first show of the evening, 7:30, two Tour participants also became involuntary participants in the show – David Webster (car No. 22) surprised all there with his ability to dance, and Roger Goodwin (car No. 16) became the talk of the show. When Gertie asked him, “Sweetheart, what’s your name?” he replied, ”Sweetheart,” and then she asked him, ”So sweetheart, where’re you from?” he replied “Sweetheart Land.” While other audience members are usually shy up on stage, Roger, being Roger, was not. At the second show, Jenny Cook (car no. 9), was invited to dance with Jonny T. Nelson. All other Tour participants at the shows were relieved not to have been picked to volunteer. 

Rear Ender Award

During dinner at the Downtown Hotel, Ian Holdaway stood up and continued to justify his actions that landed him with the Rear Ender – needless to say, he did get a round of applause from half those seated, the navigators, who appear to approve of the hood up in inclement conditions over the long-standing traditions of the Western Australia Bentley Drivers Club (WABDC). Before even leaving Whitehorse, Ian already had a candidate in his sights as he heard that Peter Morelli (car No. 18) had endorsed the hood-up change of rules in order to make life easier for the navigators despite being a member of the WABDC. No matter what Peter had or hadn’t done, which could seem a bit unfair to some, he was winning the award.

During the day of driving, however, this original reason for winning the Rear Ender was replaced by a more legitimate one. At the Pelly Crossing, car No. 18 had stopped to resupply at the Selkirk Centre and, while Mary was in the store, Peter crashed the front of the Bentley into the garage door there. Not only had he damaged private property and scraped the front of his mudguards, but he had done it to the only building along the 535 kilometers (332 miles) stretch for the day that was right next to a RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police) station. Some saw the Bentley outside the RCMP station and assumed he was the first participant to receive a speeding fine – this was not the case, he was filing a damage report. {An aside - when Ian mentioned Peter's crash, one of the people clearing away the buffet dishes dropped an armload of silverware creating a huge crash - what perfect timing.}

Although shocked at receiving the Rear Ender, Peter did have some notes for his defense in the tradition of Nowell Stebbing (car No. 2). Firstly, Peter disavowed the original reason Ian had him up for winning the award as apparently it was Trevor Eastwood (car No. 3) who had made those comments. Secondly, as explained by Peter, he was seeking shade for the benefit of his navigator when Harry (the name of the car) saw the building leap towards the driver. Being a loyal vehicle, it came to his defense and beat the building back – another way of saying that Peter’s foot slipped and got caught on the accelerator such that he could not stop and avoid the door in time. The final score: Harry 1, Building 0.