The 6th Cayenne Arctic Route Adventure

Marc123 said:

They look pretty cool, even in brown!

Click to expand...

Cayenne_fan said:

Hey Marc.... if you don't mind I can update this thread everyday as the trip goes on unless you want to? Let me know cause I know everyone else on this forum will love to be informed about it as it progresses!

Click to expand...

Day 8 - 9:30 AM
The challenging trailer

It's bloody cold out there this morning - minus 40 Celsius when you factor in the windchill. You couldn't find a more gruelling cold-weather hybrid vehicle test than the most northern point of this continent. But the hybrid Cayenne fired up without complaint.

We decide to try our luck at the checkpoint, but we're unable to convince the unsmiling guards to take sympathy on us. Our Italian companions are disappointed, but cheerfully settle for pictures of the restricted access sign and the vast open tundra adjacent to the ocean.

After filling up (at $5.00 a U.S. gallon) we set forth once again to tackle Haul Road. There's a thin snow blowing almost diagonally, and the big rigs pass in great swirling clouds. Traffic is heavier today, with trucks passing every fifteen minutes or so. Visibility is horrible, and the rigs seem enormous when they suddenly appear through the gloom.

I admit I've got butterflies thinking about the deadly Atigun Pass - particularly given that our trailer's brakes were periodically malfunctioning causing it to wiggle and squirm. We inch our way up and down the double switchback, mere feet from a tiny guardrail separating us from a 4,000-ft drop.

Reaching the end, I exhale with relief.

Day 8 - 1:00 PM
Ahem, pit stops...

Once over the Pass, trees start to reappear, and soon we're back on pavement.

I know there's one burning question you're just dying to ask, but are much too polite, and that's the matter of "pit stops". From the Arctic Circle to a few miles past Coldfoot, there are occasional wooden outhouse shelters. After that, it's a quick dash outside and a shake for the guys.

For me, it's a bit more... elaborate. Out on the frozen tundra, there are no rocks or bushes, no cover from approaching trucks. Opening the front and rear doors forms an impromptu shelter, my travelling companions chivalrously averting their eyes while I curse the stinging snow.

After we've reached the treelike - it seems easy - a simple dash up the steep slope and a quick crouch behind a spruce. Part way up the incline, I break through the deceptively thin crust and flounder in deep, thigh high snow, cursing and grabbing onto a spindly tree to haul myself up.

Finishing my ritual as quick as humanly possible and "invigorated" by a handful of refreshingly cold snow, I flounder back down the slope, grabbing at trees for balance and fling myself back into the Cayenne... only to find my two companions convulsed with laughter. Wankers.

Click to expand...