Pulling up to the window, we were hopeful that leaving Canada would prove to be less bizarre than entering was. At first, we had reason for optimism. Again we showed our IDs and told them about Rick driving our truck with the animals. With a big smile on his face and without any questions about pepper spray, he told us, “No problem! Welcome to Alaska!” and we were waved through. We pulled forward and waited for Rick to be waved on. We waited and watched in the rear view mirrors. We waited some more. Then we saw Rick emerging from the truck. Parking the U-Haul, we began to walk back toward the truck to see what was going on. “Step away from the vehicle!!” barked the customs guy. Oh great, here we go again. Mr. Customs walked around the truck and made a move to go in the back—a move Inu, the 130 pound sled dog didn’t take kindly to. He made his displeasure known in a series of loud and rather unpleasant sounding barks. Mr. Customs jumped away from the vehicle and decided that showing how tough he was wasn’t that important after all. He decided that Rick was free to go. He drove over to where we had the U-Haul parked and told us that the guy was all smiles until Rick actually pulled up to the window. When he actually saw Rick, who is of Mexican descent, the smiles evaporated. He demanded to see his license so he could run a check on him. He accused him of kidnapping his son (the letter from Kevin’s mother was rapidly produced). He wanted to search Rick’s suitcase, though he was uninterested in Kevin’s. Later, Kevin observed that, “He treated my dad like that because he has dark skin.” Welcome to the United States.
Now we were all feeling angry and depressed, but we got back into the trucks and proceeded northwest. We came upon Northway—a little town with a garage that fixes U-Hauls. We decided to stop there and have the tire looked at. While we waited, we had lunch in the adjoining restaurant, saving our bread for another time. After about an hour and a half, we got the verdict on the tire—ignore it and keep driving. The truck would have to be taken to Fairbanks to be fixed anyway, as it had a bent axle. The guy said he saw them all the time and there would be no problem. Hoping the guy was right, we got back on the Alaska Highway. Fairbanks seemed within reach now. It was getting closer.
We had one more incident to remember on our last day on the road—or at least Rick did! We were driving through a stretch of road that was all torn up and covered in gravel. there was no pilot car, though there were plenty of “no passing” signs. We learned quickly that many Alaskans feel that any sort of rule does not apply to them, as some clown decided to pass Rick. He was kicking up lots of dust and Rick went to roll up his window. No sooner was the window up than a rock flew up and shattered it! If he had been a little slower, it would have hit him in the head! He was not hurt, however, so on we drove.
We finally limped into town on a bent axle and a tire that was so bald in some spots that wire was showing through. Our truck had no driver’s side window and a cracked windshield. But we had made it. The realtor had left a bunch of keys and as Bill tried each one, Inu barked furiously at his own reflection in the double-paned windows. He finally found the right key and we were in!! What a relief! There was still a U-Haul to be unloaded and many boxes to unpack. There were truck windows to be fixed and furniture had to be moved around. But all of that could wait for another day. Just then it was enough to revel in the fact that we were home!
