Bringing Pam up to the Yukon and, ultimately, to our new home
We’ll move up in the spring, and if you don’t like it, we’ll move back down south by Labour Day
Back in 2009, Pam and I had been living together in Black Diamond/Turner Valley, Alberta (now known as Diamond Valley). A really close friend of ours who owned a horse ranch, just south of Pincher Creek, Alberta, was in a bad car accident, ending up in a Halo to support his neck and head for about six months.
Of course, we offered to come down and stay with them to help around the ranch. We parked our little 14-foot camper in their yard and spent the winter there. We helped out with all sorts of things, like taking care of the horses, doing snow removal and sometimes even cooking, cleaning and shopping.
Once our friend got better, it was time to move along, although we had nowhere to “go back to.” We talked a lot about moving somewhere to get a fresh start. Saskatchewan was too flat. Edmonton and Calgary were old hat, as we’d spent decades there already. Vancouver was way too expensive.
The prospects of both finding new jobs and somewhere to live were daunting, to say the least.
Then one day I said, “What about the Yukon? Our résumés will be on a pile of less than one hundred, instead of thousands in the bigger centres, the scenery is spectacular and the people are amazing!” (Pam had never been there.)
I made her a promise. “We’ll move up in the spring, and if you don’t like it, we’ll move back down south by Labour Day.”
Done deal!
We knew that Pam’s Grand Caravan wouldn’t pull our trailer up the Alcan safely and we lucked out finding a ‘78 “dentsides” half-ton F-150 pickup for $500. It had the built-in tool box in the side of the box—and two large fuel tanks, which we would need coming up the Alcan. We nicknamed the truck “Kermit,” in reference to it being green, and started making preparations to head north.
That trip is one we will never forget. Kermit was an old workhorse from a farm. He ran great! I did the usual tune-up to prepare for the journey—oil change, spark plugs, new coolant, -40 windshield washer fluid, and we were off.
We left Pincher Creek and made it as far as Cochrane (about 150 miles) before we saw our first issue. Coming out of Cochrane, going up a big hill, the truck started coughing and spluttering like it was starving for fuel. We turned around and went back into town and I replaced the fuel pump. Fixed! (Or seemed to be.) We made it all the way to Sundre (another 50 miles) before it started doing the exact same thing again. The guy at NAPA was quick to point out how the new fuel pumps were prone to failure, so I replaced it again. Fixed again (finger’s crossed)! We headed to visit some friends in Red Deer (another 65 miles). Kermit ran great until just outside of town and the “gremlin” was back again.
In Red Deer, in our friend’s driveway, I replaced the fuel pump for a third time; also the fuel filter, and, on the advice of our friend, bought a spare fuel filter and fuel line for the rear tank. The thinking there was that perhaps the tank had sediment and it was the rear tank causing the problems. Off again!
Kermit’s gremlin was back by the time we hit the Wetaskiwin turnoff (about halfway to Edmonton), and I spent a “most enjoyable” [/s] hour under the truck, changing the filter and fuel line on the side of the highway. (Seemed to do the trick.) Off to our friend’s place in “Edmonchuck”—Kielbasa City, my old stomping grounds. Guess what? Same thing as we got close to their house …
We spent five or six days in Edmonton. I did a bunch of research: removed the EGR plate, changed the filter again, torqued down the “battleship” (the intake manifold) and pulled the new spark plugs to check for fouling. Everything seemed great … again. We made it to just about Grande Prairie before the gremlin reappeared. I went to the local NAPA for advice and, well, they had nothing to offer other than what we had already tried.
The next morning, the truck was running great again and we made it almost to Fort Nelson before the gremlin was back. By this time, I’d had enough. Emboldened by the fact that we now seemed to be getting five or six hours hassle-free, when the truck started as normal in the morning, we headed for Watson Lake. That day, the day that we needed it the most, the truck ran fantastically.
We camped in the local campground, and Archie Lang, who ran it, stopped in for a beer with us as he was picking up the camping fees. He listened to the story and welcomed Pam to the Yukon.
The final push into Whitehorse was amazing … until Marsh Lake, where the gremlin surfaced once more. We hobbled into Whitehorse doing about 10 miles per hour and set up camp at the Mountain Ridge Motel & RV Park—the only place open at the time. We were here! I made Pam some dinner and called Woody to take us out in his limo on a pub crawl. We had a blast!
We had arrived in Whitehorse in mid-March and I immediately got hired as a line cook at Lil’s Place—50’s Diner. After a few months there, I was hired back into my old job, the one that I had quit a few years prior to my move south with my then girlfriend. Pam got a job working as a prep lab supervisor, which turned into being promoted to the branch manager and a long tenure in the business before she retired.
Ironically, we went out to visit some friends in Hidden Valley and, on the way back to the camper, the truck absolutely died on Couch Road. I was done with this crap! It wouldn’t even turn over this time … I just left the hood up, after trying to fix things, and got back in the truck.
A guy, who lived just around the corner, pulled up in his Jeep and asked if we needed a boost. I told him the Gremlin Saga and he said, “I know what your problem is … Hold on, I’ll be right back!”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I joked. He returned about 10 minutes later with an ignition control module from one of the old trucks in his yard. We installed it and Kermit fired right up. Sounded like a brand-new truck!
I asked him how much he wanted for it. His reply was, “This is my address, right around the corner. Go order a new one from NAPA and, after you install it, bring mine back with a case of Budweiser.” I was floored. Pam cried! She couldn’t believe it. I told her “Like I said, baby … the people up here are amazing!”
To be continued …
