NOTE: Before reading this blog, I highly recommend you first read The Dempster Highway Experience by MFI published September 1, 2024. Her blog helps put this one in proper perspective.
After 5 decades of consideration, construction of the all-weather road between Inuvik and Tuktoyaktuk (population 900 and hereafter referred to as Tuk) was started in January 2014 and officially opened in November three years later. The ITH (Inuvik-Tuktoyaktuk Highway) was 86 miles long, and the first road to provide access to Canada’s Arctic Coast. Previous to the ITH, Tuk was only accessible via the Mackenzie River Ice Road for four months during winter, and only reachable by air or boat during the rest of the year. The gravel road was built entirely on permafrost at an astronomical cost of $299 million. Construction included 8 bridges and 359 culverts. I included the adjacent map to illustrate how much water peppers the landscape through which the road was built. Original proposals dubbed it the “Road to Resources” because its purpose was to improve the efficiency and profitability of oil and gas exploration in the Tuk region. But by the time the ITH was completed, Canada had placed a moratorium on all Arctic oil and gas development. This was good news for environmentalists but bad news for future economic growth. Debate over these alternatives continue.
We drove the ITH on our last day in Inuvik, deciding it best to leave Arthur safely parked. Arlene had friends in Tuk whom owned a restaurant called Grandma’s Kitchen, and she recommended we plan on having lunch there. We were surprised when I goggled the restaurant and up popped a map to it. We headed north about 9:30 AM under wonderful weather conditions, took our sweet time (making severa stops for pictures), and arrived 3 hours later.
As roads go, the ITH was simply a shorter version of the Dempster Highway. The surface of the permafrost melted in the summer and this permitted formation of puddles, ponds, and potholes. Where the road was dry, the dust from traffic was choking, entered every possible crack on Sid, and settled into areas discovered months later.
The ITH crossed the treeline just north of Tuk. Surprisingly, the terrain there consisted of rolling hills before giving way to the expansive tundra. For the most part, the tundra was flat and endless. But periodically, we saw isolated rounded mounds that had erupted out of the mossy surface. We had no idea at that time what they were or their significance.
We likened the ITH to the Dempster Highway, and these pictures illustrate why. Yes, Sid became horribly filthy again and had to endure another thrashing on bumpy roads.
Arlene had informed us about seeing occasional parking lots off the side of the ITH. These were used by indigenous hunters, fishermen, trappers, and berry-pickers to preposition their ATVs, snowmobiles, boats, cargo trailers, etc. and precluded their having to transport this equipment north every time it was used. This was done without any security fencing or gates. It was just understood that you respected the personal property of others.
The scenery along our drive lacked snow-capped mountains, glaciers, and river valleys; but what we saw certainly had a horizontal beauty of its own.
In reading about what to do in the Arctic, we came across a word we’d never heard before. What in the world was a Pingo? The answer required help from Wikipedia. Get ready for some science! “A Pingo is a periglacial landform, which is defined as a non-glacial landform or process linked to colder climates. They are typically conical in shape and grow and persist only in permafrost environments, such as the Arctic and subarctic. Closed systems, also known as hydrostatic pingos, are formed as a result of hydrostatic pressure that has built up within the core of pingos due to water. The formation…occurs when layers of permafrost generate upwards movement or pressure, resulting in masses of confined soil freezing, which pushes material upwards due to expansion. This type… is formed in an area where a lake has been infilled with sediment. This figure [sic] indicates that the ground is insulated, allowing liquid water to collect underneath the sediment. In winter months this sediment begins to freeze which leads to expansion of the sediment, confining the water and increasing the pressure. This results in the formation of the mound.” OK, so they’re mounds of uplifted ice.
“Hydraulic (open-system) pingos result from ground water flowing from an outside source, i.e. sub-permafrost or intrapermafrost aquifers. Hydrostatic pressure initializes the formation of the ice core as water is pushed up and subsequently freezes. These [sic] pingos have no limitations in the amount of water available unless the aquifer freezes. The groundwater is put under artesian pressure and forces the ground up as it makes an expanding ice core. It is not the artesian pressure itself that forces the ground up, but rather the ice core that is being fed the water from th4e aquifer. These are often formed in a thin, discontinuous permafrost. These conditions allow an ice core to form, but also provides it with a supply of artesian groundwater. If water pressure entering an artesian pingo is strong enough, it can lift the into up allowing a sub-pingo water lens to form underneath.” Right! So they’re still mounds of uplifted ice.
The Tuk Peninsula was covered by lakes, as seen in the pictures and the map above, thus providing plenty of water to accommodate both types of pingos. While there were an estimated 11,000 pingos worldwide, the densest concentration at 1,350 were found on the Tuk Peninsula. Just 3 miles south of Tuk, we stopped at a viewing area and interpretive display about the second largest pingo on earth called Ibyuk. This pingo was one of eight protected by Parks Canada as the 16-square kilometer Pingo Canadian Landmark. I had read there was a boardwalk, which would allow us to hike to Ibyuk for a closer look. However, missing from the description of this attraction was the requirement for a 30 to 40-minute paddling via rented canoe to reach the boardwalk. Uhhhh, no! The rental-cost and physical toll were obstacles we weren’t willing to tackle. Pictures would have to suffice, and they did. Ibyuk was 984′ wide and 161′ tall.
The top of many pingos appeared collapsed. This was because the surface of the permafrost melted in the summer and caused the ice core/ice lens to sink. Thus the formation of pingos was an iterative process happening over long periods of time. The age of Ibyuk was estimated at between 1,200 and 1,300 years.
We entered Tuk passing a number of residential houses on our way to Grandma’s Kitchen for lunch. Without vertical vegetation, the cityscape was as stark as I remembered from my year at Thule Air Base. Colored exteriors provided a modicum of interest.
The restaurant was closed to customers without reservations, because grandma was being treated at the hospital in Inuvik. We met her husband and passed on greetings from Arlene. Our remaining options for food were the protein bars, jerky, and trail mix from our Yeti. Since we were parked, we capitalized on the opportunity to walk to the Arctic shore for pictures. The driftwood was large and well-weathered, and we ran across a sea of interesting rocks.
The rocky texture of the shore reminded us of Brighton Beach, England. As usual, our lack of petrological education left us ignorant of the composition, structure, and origin of these stones. Yes, I named a few of them.
We read there was a spot at the north end of town where most visitors culminated their Arctic Ocean experience. At this point, we still intended on dipping our toes in the water in celebration. It wasn’t far. When we arrived, a Parks Canada offcial was actively managing the poor behavior of some tourists. She walked out onto “The Spit” to speak with some tourists about something, and upon her return, she politely stopped other visitors from taking selfies after they had climbed on top of some indigenous winter vehicles prepositioned nearby. We had read that the waters were designated as sacred indigenous fishing grounds, and as such, visitors were reminded by signs to be respectful of this fact. The minute she was gone, a group of foreigners hiding behind boulders of the breakwater, partially disrobed, and took a swim. We were ashamed of and pissed off about the utter disrespect being displayed. We decided not to dip our toes out of respect. That…and the fact the water, wind, and air temperatures were chilling. We did walk out to the end of the spit where I took a 360° video.
There were two other landmarks worthy of mention. The first marked the terminus of the Arctic Ocean leg of the Trans Canada Trail. This leg of the trail alone was 2,094 miles, the length of the one-way trek from Edmonton, AB to Tuk. The second was this colorful milepost sign showing the distances to significant Canadian First Nation communities. Let’s just agree that everywhere else was really, really, far away.
We drove past the local garbage dump while leaving town. Tuk residents and businesses have no alternative for managing their solid waste other than to pile it up in preparation for loading trucks, which hauled it south for proper disposal.
We were back in Inuvik by dinnertime. But before returning to Arthur, we stoppped at Bob’s and dropped 25 Loonies (CA $25) to pressure wash Sid again. Once comfortably home, we ate a delicious meal, enjoyed a glass of wine, and toasted our successful day. We agreed the views of the Arctic Ocean weren’t awe-inspiring, but it was never about that. In this instance, it had always been about setting a tough goal and achieving that goal. We could now say we made the journey and survived, if only barely. Checked off another bucket list item.
