Dawn Phelps
Columnist
Glenn heaved another spare tire on the back of his truck. “I might need that on the trip,” he thought to himself. For several months, Glenn and his three younger brothers had excitedly planned their move from Nebraska to Alaska where they would homestead land together—400 acres to be exact.
Despite the protests of their sad mother, the four brothers’ dream of living in Alaska was taking shape! Glenn, the oldest, was the master planner, the list maker of the family. His list grew longer as he tried to anticipate everything that he and his younger brothers might need on their journey to Alaska and in their future life in the wilderness.
They planned to drive two trucks. Glenn’s truck was large, just what was needed to transport their necessary supplies to Alaska. For months Glenn had not slept soundly. As he dozed off, another item would pop into his head.
Sometimes he climbed out of bed to add it to the list, and sometimes he tried to remember the item until morning. He had already bought supplies they would need—tools and spare truck parts. Building tools and axes for chopping firewood. Kitchen utensils and staple food items so they could survive the winter.
Glenn had heard tales of motorists being stranded on the ALCAN Highway when a fuel pump went out. He reminded himself to purchase a spare fuel pump at the auto parts store.
He thought about how easily a sharp rock could shred a tire or how a fan belt could snap, stranding a traveler—he already had two extra fan belts packed. He had heard how windshields could be shattered by a stray rock flung by another vehicle, but he was not sure an extra windshield would survive the trip in the back of the truck—he’d just hope for the best.
Glenn had purchased a large iron wood-burning stove, an absolute necessity for the frigid, forty-below winters of Alaska. He had packed several large boxes of books to help pass the time during the long, dark winters—he could imagine himself reading beside the stove. They would also need kitchen supplies—pots and pans, dishes, and food to get them started.
Glenn had worked on his truck, attaching a metal sheet which his brothers called “armor” to the underbelly of the truck to protect it from what lay ahead. He also reinforced the bumpers with steel plates in case he had to push another stalled vehicle or get pushed out of a snowbank himself.
After weeks of planning and packing, the day finally came for the boys to head north. Glenn did a final inspection. Everything looked good. The supplies and stove were securely tied down.
He checked the oil; it was okay. He had some extra quarts packed just in case. The needle on the gas gauge said full, and Glenn’s map was marked. He had planned well—they were ready!
Glenn started his truck and began backing out of the driveway—he would lead.
When he stepped on the gas, his truck moved more slowly than he had anticipated, seeming to creep, strain, and groan under its load.
They headed out of town, and as they reached the first hill, Glenn pushed the gas pedal to the floor. But as the truck reached the top of the hill, the truck was only going 30 miles per hour—top speed!
At that moment Glenn realized his truck would never make it over the steep Rocky Mountains in Canada—the truck was just too heavy! He had over-planned, over-packed. So, the brothers headed their trucks back toward home where they re-planned, re-packed, and lightened their loads.
Some of Glenn’s precious books and spare tires were left behind; some of the “armor” had to be removed. Then the next time the four brothers left Nebraska, they made it safely to Alaska where they lived for many years and remained very close as brothers. Sadly, their youngest brother died of cancer in 2021.
I know this story is true. I met all four of the brothers about twenty years ago when I visited my niece Lori in Alaska at Christmas after my husband had died. Lori was married to Norbert, the youngest of the brothers. While there, I listen to the brothers tell stories of their adventures before and after they arrived in Alaska—of getting ready for the trip, of salmon fishing, and hunting caribou and moose.
A couple of weeks ago, my niece Lori and her two grown sons by to see us when they came back to Nebraska to visit her late husband’s family. Lori’s mom, one of my younger sisters, had lived in Fairbanks for over forty years, and she also died in 2021.
Truly this is a story of four fine young men who followed their dreams of living in Alaska, and they ended up spending their lives in that beautiful, cold land with temperatures of forty below this time of year. Now you know how they left Omaha in a truck that was so heavy it could hardly make it up a hill. But they turned around, readjusted, and kept on going—north to Alaska!
