“This isn’t a bad road – some years it’s worse,” Archie Waquan says cheerfully as he navigates his 12-person van along what seems like an impossibly glassy, bumpy stretch of highway during this road trip of a lifetime. “They had rain last week, so it’s pretty icy.”
But then again, what’s a little rain when you’re driving the winter ice road to Fort Chipewyan, one of Alberta’s most remote and longest continually settled communities?
For tourists like us, it’s our only chance to travel by car to visit the historic town, which is situated on the fringe of Wood Buffalo National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage site that is home to the largest free-ranging buffalo herd in the world. (Along with 3,000 buffalo, there are some 200 species of migratory birds).
For the approximately 900 residents of Fort Chipewyan, it’s also their only chance to head south by road trip to larger cities such as Fort McMurray (three hours) or further even to Edmonton (seven hours) along Highway 63. Otherwise, it’s 30 minutes by commuter plane, five hours by power boat or three to five days by canoe.
December Opens Road
“The community looks forward to the winter road opening in the first part of December. Everyone’s itching to get out,” Waquan notes. The winter road – open just four months each year – travels about 280 kilometres through the frozen bogs, lakes, rivers and creek that in the warmer months make up the vast and remote Athabasca River Delta. Waquan, former chief of the Mikisew Cree First Nations (MCFN), has made the three-hour drive countless times. He and wife Dawn Waquan, lifetime residents of Northern Alberta, operate the Wah Pun Bed & Breakfast – a popular nine-suite lodge.
He could probably do this three-hour road trip with his eyes shut, but thankfully his peepers are wide open as the road cuts a swath through the jackpine and poplar – two kinds of trees hardy enough to survive in the rugged climate. The road isn’t always on ice, Waquan notes – much of it travels across the sand, marshes and muskeg that blanket large sections of northeastern Alberta. (The region is also known for its massive oilsands developments, Syncrude and Suncor, near Fort McMurray, so it’s a great family road trip.)
But there are also a number of river crossings, some 30 feet deep. I’m grateful to hear the ice today is usually a safe 48-60 inches thick, which Waquan says is optimal considering it’s late march and nearing the end of the road’s season. “Smaller vehicles can go 20 inches, but even then they’re really gambling. At 20 inches they don’t allow more than one vehicle to cross at one time.”
Ice Levels Monitored
Ice levels are monitored and the road, built 15 years ago, is closed when it’s deemed too hazardous, or special restrictions are made such as night driving only (when temperatures are colder).
Our group is greeted by the occasional wave or honk from a trucker, particularly when we stop at the halfway point of our drive. Waquan points to a couple of structures on the side of the road. “Bathroom, anyone?” We all crawl out of the van to take pictures of the porta-potties in the middle of nowhere.
The geography changes as we get close to Fort Chipewyan (and the giant river delta, which especially with the wind and blowing snow becomes difficult to see much beyond a couple hundred of feet). The boreal forest is gone; the only foliage now is willows and sagebrush and the road is flat because we’re now on parts of Lake Athabasca.
We stop the car again and race outside, shivering without our jackets in the howling wind, to take photos as two snowmobilers zip past us – dogs resting comfortably in their laps. They’re off to the annual ice fishing derby, the men tell us, and word is maybe 800 people will turn out. Thanks to its big prize purse, it’s one of the biggest events of the years, drawing visitors from Northern Alberta, the Northwest Territories and beyond. We promise to stop by and head toward town, but it looks like everyone’s LEAVING town, heading toward the derby site, where hundreds of vehicles and people are scattered on the frozen lake.
“We’ve got a convoy!” jokes Waquan. “There’s going to be nobody left in Fort Chip pretty soon.
Tour Fort Chipewyan Bicentennial Museum
Thankfully, not everybody has gone and we get a warm welcome from Oliver Glanfield, who gives us a tour of the Fort Chipewyan Bicentennial Museum. The two-storey white clapboard museum beholds a treasure trove of local lore, and Glanfield guides us through the past as he proudly displays memorabilia dating back to when Fort Chip was one of the region’s most important fur-trading posts, dating back more than 200 years. There’s also First Nations attire and other artifacts, plus a thorough library of historic books, papers, photos, maps and other lore. “The history of this area is very, very rich,” notes Glanfield, the community’s unofficial tourism ambassador.
After a lunch of hearty stew and bannock with local elders, we head off to one of the town’s other major landmarks – the Fort Chipewyan Roman Catholic Church. Built in the early 1900s, the church features a remarkable interior, including elaborate and colorful murals on the walls and ceilings that have been painted with local blueberries and cranberries mixed with fish oil.
Our final tour stop for the day, after a quick road trip through the town with local tourism co-coordinator Dale Monaghan of aboriginal-owned Air Mikisew, is to check in at the fish derby and drop a line into slushy holes in the ice to see what we can catch. After a few futile efforts, my fingers numb from the cold and wind, I determine this is not the sport for me and head back to the warmth of the van. For us, the derby has a happy ending – local wilderness lodge operators Alice and John Rigney have come by with steaming cups of hot chocolate and fresh-based carrot cake. On a cold day in Alberta’s remote north, after a memorable road trip, what else could be better?