First off did you know it’s National Truck Drivers Appreciation Week? I think that is worth a celebration. Truckers truly make the world go around tackling one of the most difficult jobs, spending hours on the road, miles away from their family, just creating an honest living. For a population that will probably never actually see the face behind supplies delivered. Truck drivers also seem to be equipped with infinite knowledge. Maybe it’s all their windshield time, or from overthinking while waiting on a reset, they just seem to have a lot of answers. In fact, I know I can almost always call at least one of my gear jamming friends to get the best food location in almost any random town, and if they don’t have a good food location, they can usually direct me to a cold drink.
Picture this you’re in bumper to bumper traffic…. in a stand still, watching cars weave around you, stuck above your 18 wheels, and unable to move. It sounds pretty miserable right? But this article isn’t focused on the asphalt cowboys that make the world spin, this one is focused on the dirt road dreamers that bounce a long the 414 mile trail, The Dalton Highway. Now although this road is titled a “highway” this is a never ending journey of the worst washboards you can imagine, and minimal service areas in site. This gravel highway has steep sides, and mud that will be caked to your vehicle for months!
I drove from the North Slope aka Deadhorse and only went south 100 miles, I have yet to complete the entire journey. However, after being on the road (thanks to an AMAZING opportunity I had with Helene Neville) I can tell you that regardless of how much someone was willing to pay me, it wouldn’t be enough to become a Haul Road Trucker. So here it is my list of the top 10 things I learned on the Dalton Highway.
- Montana is pretty keen on referring to anything above a car as a “truck” or a “pickup” a truck would be a semi, where a pickup is a 4×4 vehicle with a box. As soon as you get on the Dalton Highway that rule goes out the window. A pickup is referred to as a 4 wheeler, and a truck is an eighteener.

- Lights must always be left on. It sounds like a weird rule for a state that doesn’t actually get all that dark in the summer, but after a few short miles your vehicle becomes camouflaged to the road from the gray clay that covers the road. Honestly, I question how much the lights actually help.
- Vehicle maintenance cost has to be significantly higher. I drove this road in a rental vehicle, and truly if I had to make this journey in my own vehicle, well I wouldn’t. The road tosses you around regardless of your speed and makes your dash sound like its going to rattle apart at any given moment. That’s in a pickup, imagine having to deal with that on a much larger scale. The amount of tires, struts, filters and everything in between these truckers have to replace regularly has to add up quickly.
- PACK TYLENOL, I don’t know if it was a combination of rattling apart my teeth and the vehicle shaking or just having to sit for multiple hours on a road that would only take an hour to drive if it were paved, but my body ached everyday I had to make that drive.
- Permafrost will soak your toes. Although the views are absolutely spectacular along the route, stepping off of the road is like stepping into a giant sponge that has been soaking for months in less than a second your socks and shoes will need changed.
- Bring binoculars, maybe it’s my Montana heart, but after identifying elk and antelope my entire life, it’s a lot harder to tell the difference between a muskox and a grizzly if they are a ways out, and that just doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you want to struggle with.
- There aren’t “loose truck” roads, or many pullouts. On occasion the highway supplies a small stopping point for trucks to check their loads, but realistically for a road that has no shoulder it isn’t enough. The stopping points are really just north on the highway after hills that have excessive double digit grades.
- Lattes and liquor are a luxury. You just spent 14 hours driving this highway to make a delivery to Deadhorse, if it were me I’d want coffee or wine to unwind before I have to make the trek home. Unfortunately, you just made a delivery to a dry town, and both latte stops closed at 5:00….How bad does that suck?!
- Let me take 9. Back, basically anything on this highway is a luxury. You want to use a bathroom? Well you better hope it’s at the halfway point in Coldfoot! You need a gas station, restaurant, or a hotel…yep same story.
- Truck drivers do what they do with heart. I’ll never understand how they endure what they go through everyday and keep a great attitude through it all. Most of the time on the highway they were quick to give a friendly wave, or a greeting across the radio. They seem to always be willing to give a helping hand or advice. For being miles away from where they keep their roots, they have a way of making you feel right at home regardless of where they are.
I think I could write for hours about all there is on this desolate road, but luckily for you, until I drive the entire thing, I don’t think it would be fair for me to keep you reading that long.
So for now that is all you get.
Until next time,
Julissa