Bellingham to Haines and Points Onward

When we got word of the ferry’s demise, I was more upset at not being able to make that cruise, in addition to having to drive all that way. I love riding on the Alaska Ferries! So there was relief at not having to drive and delight at being able to make the ferry trip when I heard they restored service. It’s so much fun! But I forgot to bring stuff to do so we did a lot of walking around and playing with other children. There were at least five jigsaw puzzles going that passengers take turns on and there were a few books that people had left, both children’s and adult. Mostly a person just relaxes on the ferry. This carrier, the M/V Columbia, is about four times as big as the M/V Tustumena that travels the Southwest waters that would take us to Chignik. Like the Tustumena, people can pitch their tents on the deck to get the full experience. I did that with Iris the last time going to Chignik but this time we stayed in a stateroom. It has a double story car deck and two stories with rooms. It boasts a big theatre room as well as a children’s play area. There were quite a few children on board who were continually berated over the loudspeaker for running aboard ship. Iris was not one of them. Most of them were military families on the move. There was one lady who had four children under eight all by herself. I think those were the ones getting in trouble. They had been stationed in Hawaii and were now being moved to Fairbanks. I’m guessing her husband went ahead while she brought the kids and vehicle up. She has my kudos.

We got antsy waiting to board the ferry so we got out to stretch our legs. Happened to look down at the tire and see two bubbles in the sidewall of the driver’s side front tire. Oh no! Neither of the two men I asked could tell me how serious it was, not even the guy next to me with the cherry red ’68 Mustang that he kept covered from the gulls’ droppings. I wasn’t worried, I knew there were places in Haines to have it replaced. In the meantime, the other classic car in the back of the line wasn’t moving forward. What’s this dude’s problem? The ferry guy went to check it out and before long some of the bikers on the other side of me went to check it out too. The car wouldn’t start. Several of them tried, to no avail. A decision was made, push the car on board and then have a tow truck come pick it up at its destination. Cherry red Mustang man, the bikers, and several ferry personnel pushed the 70-ish era Nova up the gentle incline and onto the boat. Cheers all around.

Leaving my fate to Google Maps, I found the closest tire shop in Haines was Peter’s Auto and Tire Repair. As the shop drew within view, I thought, oh, maybe not, but I found myself pulling into the Subaru graveyard and reached the point of no return when two gnarly guys looked up at me from the motorcycle they were working on. And what I mean by gnarly is, the look of a quality mechanic in Alaska. Gnarly the Elder and Gnarly the Younger (actually father and son) came to greet me and before I could show them the tire, the Younger exclaims, “Oh my god! What’s wrong back there?! Something is broke!” We all looked to see my back tires abnormally bowed in at the top. I’ll admit, I hadn’t noticed it and I’m glad I didn’t because it looked terrifying. They continued to look and wonder for another minute or two and then the Elder says, “Well it could be from weight too. Do you have it loaded down?” Umm, yeah. We exchanged chuckles and he said he could put it on the lift to make sure everything was okay but that would be $70. No problem, sir. Then we went around the car to look at the tire in question and he kinda shrugs and says, “I mean, yeah, but what are you gonna do about it? I don’t have a tire like that here. It’ll probably be fine.” Oh, is there a tire place in town that would have one in stock? “Yeah maybe but they charge an arm and a leg.” Oh okay. At this point I’m already thinking we’ll just find that other tire shop but we had already agreed he would check it out further while we went to lunch. I didn’t take near enough pictures this trip. Lunch was at a restaurant and bakery and in small lettering “serving Thai food.” Interesting little place and in Iris’ critique it had the best grilled cheese ever and the Pad Thai wasn’t too shabby either. Sipping on my dessert coffee and walking the two blocks back to the shop, I was hoping that it was nothing too serious. Another old Subaru was in the driveway and yet another pulled up as we walked up. I commented to the lady that got out that this must be the Subaru place. She smiled and said, “Yeah that’s my husband. I’m just bringing the mail.” Alright. The Gnarlies had a not-so-Gnarly sidekick there now and they all assured me that the tire “would probably be fine” and the back end was fine since new springs had been put in right before the trip. Everything was fine and he wasn’t going to charge me anything, but I gave him a some money anyway, telling him that piece of mind is worth a lot to me. I drove down the road to the Napa auto care shop and was greeted by equally aged and Gnarly-looking guys (yes!) and I asked one of them for their professional opinion. He muttered something about that not being worth very much and frowned at the tire, saying, “I’d have your spare handy.” Change it, I said. Pretty please.

The border crossing at Haines is very non-assuming. Very much unlike any border crossings with our southern neighbors. When I made the journey 14 years ago, we had to get out and wait in a little room while they inspected my car and questioned us. (Different crossing place) This time, a handsome young man came over to my window. I handed him the passports and asked if we needed to get out. He looked at me quizzically. No, he said. He asked me where I was going and if I was going to be leaving anything in Canada. I really wanted to say something about having to go to the bathroom but I thought better of it. He took our passports inside momentarily, then returned them and told us to drive safely. After being jostled around on the road for hours, I was ready to leave Canada a little present in one of their potholes and I sure was glad for my new tires and springs. Iris and I started singing, Oh Canada you’re pretty, but your ro-ooa-oads really suck! And variations thereof. Alaska roads were only slightly better and it wasn’t until Tetlin Junction that they returned to normal. Arctic engineering is a feat and I don’t think there’s any way to improve the roads unless they are constantly being repaved. Driving on a washboard can be fun in the right vehicle but I sure was happy to reach smoother stretches of highway.

I slept in the car for a few hours that night, excited to be so near our destination, and we rolled into Wasilla around 9:30 am Tuesday morning, exactly three weeks after leaving Missouri. Seems like a lifetime ago.