At Alaska Border Station, Wolves Lurk in the Woods but the Main Peril Is Boredom

ALCAN PORT OF ENTRY, Alaska — Never mind drug smugglers and illegal aliens. For U.S. Customs inspectors at this cold, isolated outpost on the Alaska Highway, the biggest enemy is boredom.

“Somebody gave me good advice when I first got here,” inspector Patrick McGownd said. “No. 1, you have to be your own best friend. No. 2, you have to get out of here every chance you can.”

The nation’s northernmost year-round border station, a cluster of buildings on Alaska’s border with the Yukon Territory, is a challenging place to live and work.

Winter brings temperatures of 60 below, and summer awakens hordes of mosquitoes in the scrubby spruce forest that stretches to the horizon. Most travelers stop just long enough to clear customs and use the restroom before hurrying down the road toward more scenic spots.

But, for a handful of federal workers and their families, about 25 people in all, this wide spot in the road is home. Many, transferred from more populous areas, take some time getting used to the place.

Grocery shopping requires a 2-day excursion to Fairbanks, 300 miles away. Mail comes three times a week, and the newspaper arrives a week late, if it arrives at all. In a medical emergency, officials will stop traffic to let an airplane land on the road. Otherwise, residents are on their own.

“I’m used to going to the mall. Now, we’re 300 miles from the nearest K mart,” said Rosie Dickerson, 34. She accompanied her husband, Carl, when he was transferred this summer from a busy border station in Eagle Pass, Tex.

Rosie had seen snow only three times before making the 5,000-mile trip north. But she and her two grade-school-age boys are quickly learning the rules of life at the edge of the sub-Arctic wilderness.

Children playing outside must report in every half-hour so mom will know they have not become lost in the woods, where grizzly bears and wolves lurk. In winter, the cutoff temperature for playing outside is minus 20 degrees, so youngsters spend a lot of time inside.

The station’s seven children are taught at home because there is no school.

Carl Dickerson, 38, also is readjusting. At Eagle Pass, 12,000 vehicles go through the border station daily, he said. Here, a busy summer day brings about 300 vehicles. In winter, when frigid weather makes driving hazardous, an entire shift may pass without a car going by.

Dickerson said he was surprised at how friendly his new co-workers are to travelers, passing out visitor guides or giving advice. He was also pleasantly surprised by the camaraderie.

“We’re more or less a family up here,” he said. “We depend on each other for so much.”

It’s the relative calm of the U.S.-Canada border that makes northern border stations the top preference for most customs inspectors, Rasmussen said.

Alcan, of course, turns out to be a little too northern for some.

“There have been people who found they didn’t care for cold weather, once they got a real good taste of it,” Rasmussen said.

Others revel in it.

“Chicago got too crowded. Montana got too crowded. So I came up here,” said McGownd, 38, whose three years at Alcan give him seniority among inspectors.

To keep busy, he runs footraces, competes in biathlons and takes float trips down the Yukon River. On long winter nights, he spends his time and money hunched over mail-order catalogues.

Rasmussen, 56, is back for seconds after ending a 3-year Alcan stint in 1985. He intends to work here until retirement, and, in the meantime, does as much hunting and fishing as he can.