No ice road trucker here

As I remember--

So, there you are, driving along the Alaska Highway in mid-December. Temperatures are about 30 degrees below zero, it's windy and the highway has been snow covered since crossing the Washington state border, a thousand miles ago.

And you're alone. Just you and your Jeep. There are few other nutcases on this road today, because even in summer, without the snow cover and frigid temperatures, it's not a good highway. The good thing about the road in winter, though, is that the ice and snow fills in most of the potholes.

I'd like to stop every mile or so for pictures. It's all beautiful, peaceful, but all different. While I'd like to stop, there are few-- and very widely scattered-- places to pull over.

I'm thinking ice road truckers are very, very brave and extremely confident. On the other hand, my fingerprints are pressed into the steering wheel, and blood pressure spikes near the boiling point. My stomach is so tied up, I'm eating Tums for lunch and dinner.

But you drive on. The gas gauge never falls below half, because if you meet something in the road (like caribou, for example) and slide off to avoid a collision, you want to be sure you can stay warm until someone finds you-- maybe in the spring?

Fortunately, I stopped before hitting anything and they just stood and stared at this four-wheeled interloper using their path. Even after grabbing the camera and shooting a few pictures, the caribou just hung out, apparently unconcerned.

I, on the other hand, was hoping another nutcase driver wasn't ripping around the corner, unable to stop before crushing me into Canadian Never Neverland.

Photo taken at 1/125, f16 and 400 ISO, near Muncho Lake Provincial Park, British Columbia, Canada.

For more travel stories by Daily Record writers, check Explorer's Backpack.