I drive to the 100th birthday party for Hannah Solomon, a beloved matriarch of the Gwich'in Nation

 

Hannah's daughter, Daisy Solomon, had billed it as "The Party of the Century" and I did not want to miss it. I had thought that I would drive up to Fairbanks the night before, so that I could be there early, but my wife and sons were very concerned, as I am still recovering from my broken shoulder and subsequent replacement surgery.

"What if you have to change a flat?" Margie chided. "What if you get stuck in a snowstorm?" So I relented and bought myself a ticket on Alaska Airlines.  

So why am I driving up the snowy Parks Highway, towards Fairbanks, traffic coming at me?

When I went to bed the night before, secure in the knowledge that I could sleep in and then have Margie drive me to Anchorage so that I could catch my plane, the wind had begun to blow. It picked up in intensity and soon was howling. It blasted against the house and caused it to shake.

It was the kind of wind that you wonder if it will drop a tree on the house, or blast through a window. It was a warm wind, up from the South Pacific. I knew it was melting our snow. It had collided violently with the cold air that had been sitting on us. I could hear raindrops tattering the house, like machine-gun fire.

The power went out, but was on again by the time I got up.

I sat down at my computer and learned that 20 jets had been diverted from Anchorage to Fairbanks and that Ted Stevens International Airport was now shut down, due to 100 mile-per-hour winds, severe turbulence and wind shear.

I did not want to miss the party. "I'm driving to Fairbanks," I told Margie. I got my cameras, warm clothes and a sleeping bag, climbed into the car and hit the road. 

The rain was heavy, blinding. I knew it would soon turn to snow, and it did.

I thought about turning around, but I know the country between here and Fairbanks and usually if you can make it the 100 miles from Trapper Creek through the Honolulu Creek area and then on to Cantwell, conditions will improve and you can make it all the way.

Altogether, it is a 330 mile drive from Wasilla.

It would have helped if we had already taken our summer tires off and put the studded snow-tires on, but we had not done that. In the worst stretches, I had to slow down to less than 25 miles per-hour. Then, when conditions would seem to improve a bit, I would gradually accelerate. 

Always, about the time I hit 40 or a little above, the car would start to fishtail - a couple of times, dramatically enough that I worried that I might go off the road, but I was determined not to and I didn't. As you can see, not everyone was so fortunate.

One who was not so fortunate.

I could see they felt a little silly. If you want to see just how silly, click on the image and blow it up. They needn't have, though. All of us who travel by car in Alaska do this kind of thing from time to time. And don't get the wrong idea. I am not a person who drives by someone in need of help. But they, and all others that I passed this day, had the situation under control.

Nor am I in any position to risk damage to my still weak shoulder. Plus - there was no way around it: the party was scheduled to start at 5:00 PM, Friday, October 10, and I was already going to be late. I drove past, very slowly, hardly more than a creep, but they were fine.

The Igloo hotel. It's been in Alaska for at least as long as I have and in all that time its never been open. Also, they should spell it "Iglu." This is Alaska, not Canada.

Trooper behind me. I have just gone through Cantwell. As you can see, the weather has improved. Now it is time to gather speed, and make up for lost time. The last time I got a ticket, about 25 years ago, the trooper who issued it told me that I could safely go nine miles an hour over the posted speed limit and not get ticketed. Once I hit 10 mph over, he said, they would nail me. 

So I always try to go 9 mph over the speed limit on the highway. But not when there is a trooper behind me. When there is a trooper, I stick right at the posted limit. 

And he stayed behind me for 50 miles or so.

See the name on the sign? Carlo Creek? It will take on added significance at the birthday party, so take note of it, because when the time comes, I will not remind readers of the sign. I will trust readers to remember.

Although I encountered a few more flurries, the roads stayed good the rest of the way to Fairbanks. I arrived at the party at 6:15 PM. So I was late, but I made it.

Next up: Hannah Solomon turns 100