The first TSD began right out of the hotel parking lot and went for 27 miles, a great way to start the day. A 300-mile transit to Watson Lake brought us to lunch and the beginning of a short 6-mile TSD. The final long transit to Whitehorse, the capitol of the Yukon Territory, was made even longer by a poor fueling decision on our part leaving us just five miles short of services. Thanks to our 2nd Alcan buddies in the BMW SAV for the quick tow into town.

We gave up 4 more points to the leaders who now led by 7.1 points.

Day 4: Whitehorse, Yukon Territory to Glennallen, Alaska, 535 miles

This morning began with a short out and back TSD section containing 10 controls. Several teams made crucial mistakes on this section. For a time we had an unexplained error on the first control, but later figured out that the Italian Subaru team that belonged immediately in front of us had missed a turn thus allowing us to arrive before them at the control. The control crew, expecting the Italians gave our time to them and their time to us. After we straightened this out we had a total error for the section of 7 to the leaders 6. We seemed to be going the wrong way.

The second slalom found us on a frozen lake. This is a site that is used for snowmobile and ice racing. The course looks like a road-racing course, only it's ice. We would use the same format as the previous slalom.

This time we counted both of Paul's times and gave up just .3 points to the leader. I experienced the first big off on my second run, and felt the bite of an additional $10 penalty for the tow out.

The leader board now has the Isuzu in first with 45.5 points and us in second with 52.9 points.

Day 5: Glennallen, AK to Fairbanks, AK, 515 miles

Dawn broke cold and dim at the Caribou Inn. The trees were totally white. Everything was white. After unplugging the battery warmer and block heater, we were off on another day of adventures.

We had two TSD sections scheduled today. The side trip to Valdez and the slalom in Fairbanks were cancelled, (darn). We remained in good spirits.

The first TSD went OK. On the second, near disaster strikes. At a CAST 28 (where we change speeds), our crack navigator updated the computer with what was supposed to be a minor adjustment to the time. This was anticipated to be less than a full second. All of a sudden the computer null readout indicates that we are about a minute and a half ahead! I became anxious, Larry was baffled and Paul was panicked. Paul shouts for me to hold the speed at 28mph, and Larry attempted to figure out what had happened. There were two miles till the finish and surely there would be a control. I do my best to hold the speed. We passed the control 10 seconds early. Our worst performance yet.

The scoring for this rally allowed the discard of the worst leg from day 5, so we of course discarded our 10. Never the less, the Isuzu pulled further ahead. One of the Team Subarus, a Legacy Outback, was in third gaining ground on us. We were still in second place though with many miles to go. The top three scores are now; Isuzu 50.5, us 60.9, and the Outback, 75.

Off we went on the Richardson Highway (named after our illustrious navigator) on our way to Fairbanks. We made a quick stop at North Pole, AK to send post cards to our loved ones back home, visit real reindeer, and take our picture with Santa.

It would be Fairbanks this night and then off to Prudhoe Bay in the morning. It was so beautiful up there. Easy to forget the rest of the world. Little roadside café owners that normally only see a half dozen customers a day were dumbfounded when 12 cars pulled into the parking lot simultaneously and 30 boisterous ralliests stormed in and ordered lunch.

Day 6: Fairbanks, AK to Deadhourse, (Prudhoe Bay) AK, 500 miles

Off to Prudhoe Bay we go. There were no competitive sections for the next two days, just the requirement of physically making the trip and checking in with the organizers at the hotel in Deadhorse.

We traveled up the Dalton Highway, a private road until 1996, built by the oil pipeline company. This road is now a State Highway, however some of the big rig drivers seem to think that it still belongs to them, a proposition we weren't in a position to challenge. Mrs. Dalton, the wife of the man who was responsible for building the highway, would accompany us on our trek.

The weather looks good, but stories of drop-offs and whiteouts abound. In 1996, Rallymaster Jerry Hines spent the night in his car and had to follow the snowplow back to Fairbanks when attempting this road.

On our way, we crossed the Arctic Circle, stopped for photos and then a few miles North in Coldfoot we rested at the only gas and food stop along the way. It was here that we regrouped, as we were required to caravan from here to Deadhorse another 250 miles north. John Fouse the Operations Manager of the Oil fields at Prudhoe would lead us to our final destination.

Ahead the Brooks Mountain range was simply breathtaking and awesome. It appeared as big chunks of snowy granite sticking up out of the tundra. We saw our first moose up close and personal loping along the road. We watched him take three steps into the woods and vanish. How does a 1300 lb. moose vanish?

Prior to ascending Atigun Pass, John¹s voice came over the radio, warning us of two big rigs descending "The Ice Cut." Discretion and our previous experience with these hairy mammoths caused us to wait quite docilely at the bottom of the grade for them to pick their way down. Trust me, this was a great choice. As they lumbered by, we noticed that they were using the entire available road surface. That surely would have been an interesting confrontation.

Once we crested Atigun Pass, the only color we saw was white. Ice, snow, or rock, it didn¹t matter ­ it was all, white. Even the road was white. It was well plowed though, in fact we watched an Alaska-sized road grader/snowplow groom the already smooth, level surface. The blade turned up a pure white berm perhaps a foot high, and if you looked closely, you might detect a faint, bluish-white shadow to mark the edge of the road, where just enough depth lurked to suck in any errant wheel that dared to stray from the trackless path.

As we descended from the Brooks Range onto the North Slope, we saw precisely why it is so named. Down, down an 18% grade we went, diving into the vast whiteness before us. The land, or what we presumed to be land, finally leveled out, and became gently rolling ­ very gently rolling, but totally, blindingly, numbingly white. All of it, everything. Our convoy tightened up without any prodding from John, the wagon master. Nobody wanted to disappear along there.

The slow descent of dusk in the far North kept light in the sky much later than we expected, but by the time we approached Deadhorse, the "town" that serves the oilfields of Prudhoe Bay, the only lights visible were those of our caravan and the unexpectedly numerous strings of glowing points that marked human attempts at existence in this unforgiving environment. On we trudged to the much-anticipated Arctic Oilfield Hotel.

The hotel was made up of large mobile modules, still sitting on their wheels. These modules were connected to form a quite large complex with not only individual sleeping rooms, but also community showers and toilet facilities, a rec. room and a large cafeteria.

The food was surprisingly good, in fact outstanding and the rooms were warm. We ate dinner and breakfast here and in the morning prepared a box lunch for the trip back to Fairbanks. Without question an experience to remember.

Day 7: Deadhorse, AK to Fairbanks, AK, via Oliktok Point, 600 miles

Prudhoe Bay in February is probably as close to being on another planet as an earthling could ever experience. The ground and the sky just seem to meet. It is so white and so desolate up there that you literally can not tell where the ground stops and the sky starts. It is cold and white in every direction...… and we have a FLAT tire. Could we ask for a better way to start the day?

The morning tour of the industrial complex that makes up Deadhorse was fascinating. Only one group before us was granted the privilege of driving through the oilfields to Oliktok Point. All Alcan participants had undergone security clearances prior to the start of the rally so we were able to pass through the ARCO checkpoint without issue. We were escorted in convoy the entire 50 miles to the edge of the Arctic Ocean. This is as far North that one can drive in North America.

The view of the Arctic Ocean was a bit disappointing. No whales or seals or even polar bears, just a whiteness beyond the rail that was otherwise indistinguishable from the whiteness on our side. Just minutes exposure to ­15 degrees with a wind chill of -30 brings pain to the exposed skin. Frost formed in our noses when we breathed. Hands without gloves lost all feeling in about a minute and a half. One needed to be careful, this kind of cold is nothing to screw around with.

After taking a camera full of photos the entire troop was once again escorted back through the desolation that makes up this unforgiving place. A stop for fuel at one of the two stations serving the region and we were on our way to Fairbanks, 500 miles to the temperate South. There's a motto up there in the frozen north; never pass gas!

A bulletin in the hotel and then John¹s warning over our radio advised us that we were in a Class 1 Condition. This means that all vehicles were to travel in convoy with their lights on. Shortly after our departure, the Class 1 was upgraded to a Class 2, and we were advised that should it go to a Class 3, we would be required to stop -- wherever we might be, no excuses. The only movement allowed would be to get the vehicles off the road as safely as possible.

For the next hour we thought about the smallness of our little convoy on the Arctic plain, and squinted our eyes against the blowing snow as we hoped the boxy shadow ahead of us was following another shadow that was still on the road. The radio announced that a big rig was approaching from the front, give way, but keep moving. As a truck the size of Texas passed by, we learned what total white out looked like. As we came through the blowing snow into the clear, all we could see was Subaru's, everywhere, and not moving. Reflexes take over at moments like these and a quick flick to the left, just as the rear of the truck passed by, followed by a quick flick to the right and lo and behold we were astride of the car in front of us. Luckily the trucks weren't traveling in pairs as we now found ourselves stopped on the wrong side of the road. The Italians, the next car back, used the same technique, only right then left, resulting in plowing off the road into the deep snow. Luckily no harm done and with a little help from the gathered masses, the car was pulled back onto the road.

I had wanted to experience some "real" Alaska weather. After 30 miles of seeing only a part of the taillight of the car ahead and not being able to see the shoulder of the road, I had had plenty. I got my wish of "just a little" bad weather and it scared me.

Conditions began to improve. We were much relieved when we drew closer to the Brooks Range, whose icy peaks now looked like old friends against the blue sky. The blow had abated, the tail end of the wagon train had closed up, and we were treated to glorious views in all directions.

Once again crossing through Atigun Pass we now experienced a feeling of accomplishment. We had made it! We had conquered the Frozen North, had dreamt our Arctic dreams, and emerged, if not quite back to civilization, at least well along the road to get there. Twigs, brush, even tiny trees began to reappear, and moose were sighted in the thickets along the frozen river. Life was good!

Day 8: Fairbanks, AK to Anchorage, AK, 410 miles

Shortly after beginning this day we faced a 12-mile TSD. Here we learned how luck plays a part in every success. Shortly after the start of the TSD, Paul noted that we appeared to have the wrong speed in the computer. A quick check proved him to be correct. We had traveled an unknown distance at a speed 5-MPH faster than the assigned speed. We hadn't encountered a control yet so if we could correct in time, we could save it. While Larry tried to figure out what to do Paul and I did our best to guess how much speed to scrub off. The null read out read 21 (it should read 0.000 if everything is correct.) Larry computed the correct time to the next instruction and had it ready to enter into the computer. We had to now hope that there was no control before that instruction. We could see it ahead, but oops, so was a control, using that instruction as the timing line. Well, at least when Larry inputs the correct time, the null readout would display our error. As we passed the reference point, Larry input the data, and the null readout changed to 0.000. Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

The second TSD took us through a congested suburban area outside of Wasilla. It got a little crazy out, as the speeds under these conditions were very hard to maintain. Somehow we managed to be on time when we needed to be, although being as much as 15 seconds late at times. Not the most enjoyable part of the event.

The Isuzu had more trouble than we did and, in spite of the Rallymaster adding an additional opportunity to discard a score from the day, took several penalty points. The competition had really tightened up now. The scores at the end of Day 8 were, Isuzu, 63.5, us, 66.9, and the Outback, 84.

Day 9: Anchorage, AK to Anchorage, AK, 250 miles

After much discussion of the conditions faced on the previous day near Wasilla, the Rallymaster decided to shorten the final TSD to avoid the congestion experienced by nearly everyone on Day 8. The new shortened course still presented some challenging driving as icy conditions saw many vehicles off the road on the transit to the start. None were contestants though. The course took us along a frozen river with breathtaking views, making it hard to concentrate on the job at hand. Somehow though we managed to get through picking up 3 points on the leaders. The score was now: Isuzu, 68.5, us 68.9. After nine days of competition, only .4 points separated the top two places.

The final competition would take place on an eighth-mile motorcycle-racing oval that is flooded during the winter and used for snowmobile racing. Again the format would be two laps for time, four times by at least two drivers, best two times added together.

I took the first run then Paul took two runs, then I batted clean up.

Dallenbach then took his second run and could only muster an 84.24. Paul Eklund then ran an 80.04. Our team was looking good. Two runs to go.

Johnny Unser now took his first shot using a technique to take advantage of the Isuzu's clearance. He ran up on the outside berm. This however, didn't get the result the team wanted as he scored an 81.40. Paul Eklund, smelling blood, put an 83.49 down.

At this point it was entirely up to Johnny Unser if the Isuzu was to come back and win. He needed a 74.72 to move into first. It was certainly possible, as Dan Coghnour had set fastest time earlier with a 73.40. Everyone was on their feet as Unser made his last run. Our team held it's collective breath as the score was announced; 80.95. We had done it, come from behind on the last day and won the 2000 Alcan Winter Rally.

Epilogue

The rally was over, only the awards presentation remained. Our lovely significant others had flown in the day before and got to see the final action at the track. What more can a guy ask for. They brought our tuxes so we could look spiffy receiving our awards, and then it was over…….. Well not quite, we still had to drive the Subaru back to Portland, more than 3000 miles away. We would spend a total of sixteen consecutive days in that little car, but there's nothing like success to make the miles melt away.