Well, the beginning of the road really. The end of the road north. The beginning of the road south. Either way, we ran out of north to drive when we arrived in Deadhorse in Prudhoe Bay, Alaksa, on the shores of the Arctic Ocean.
Looking north across the Arctic ocean, the white line on the horizon is the sea ice that had finally retreated from the shores a few days earlier.
It's not a stop in Deadhorse without a photo with a sign to prove you were there.
There's not much in town really. But even the most industrial scenery looks good in the right light.
Where we stopped to dip our toes in the Arctic Ocean, the northern-most point of our travels.
From there, the only option was to turn around and drive south—for what turned out to be three exciting years of sort of, mostly, more or less driving south—in the most round about way we could manage.