Omak, Washington to Spokane, Washington

“Go, go and see.”

John Muir

Total Miles: 8637

To all of our faithful blog readers:

You are invited to a "trailer party" on July 7 at 6:00pm. Have dinner in our driveway and tour the Airstream. Please let us know if you're coming so we can plan accordingly.

paulinebrez@gmail.com

Safely Home

Clinton, BC to Omak, Washington

Tomorrow we will be home.

A few reflections:

v     The fearsome Alaskan mosquito was not a factor

v     We didn’t need a gun or bear spray

v     The roads were better than expected

o       The challenging sections were part of the mystique, we hope they’re never smoothed out

v     Gas management took some forethought, but not too much

o       We only heard the “ding” once

o       Carrying an extra 5 gallons was a precautionary measure, but we didn’t need it

v     Campgrounds are charming, RV parking lots, less so

v     Visitor’s Centers are worth a stop

v     Cell phone coverage was spotty, WiFi was widely available, but often slow

v     Take the side roads, always

v     Bears and bald eagles never get boring

v     Alaska and Yukon Territory are the best kind of zoo

v     One month of togetherness in close quarters? No problem!

Wildlife count: 7 deer

Airstreams: 2

Miles: 277

Gratitudes: PKB: memories JMB: cheap gas at $4.39 in Omak

Final Gin Score: J: 3025 P: 3210

Denali Visitor's Center

Houston, BC to Clinton, BC

For the first time, we zone out and just go.

There is no question, British Columbia is absolutely gorgeous, but today it seems especially inhabited and rather refined. There are stop lights, lots of pavement, and frequent towns. There are many trees, and lush greenery but with a busy highway running through it. Something’s different.

Twenty-four hours ago we were standing above Salmon Glacier. Today we are a world away. As we travel down the map, Alaska and the Yukon are diminishing.

The scenery has become farms and ranches, the animals are horses and cows and the familiar deer are back. Our lunch stop is at lakeside, but the sounds of traffic intrude. We pass 50+ bikers decked out in leathers, strung out for a mile.

And, it’s dark at night. Most peculiar.

At Prince George we intersect with the Yellowhead Highway. We could turn north yet again and start all over.

Responsibility beckons.

We do see a moose ‘dancing’ on the blacktop. “Should I go this way? Should I go that way?” He’s big enough to stop traffic while he makes up his mind.

Wildlife count: 5 deer, 1 moose

Airstreams: 3

Miles: 437

Gratitudes: PKB: one last moose JMB: burgers on the grill

Gin Score: J: 2950 P: 3130

Hyder, Alaska to Houston, BC

FRESH! The mist, the air, the feeling of being first to arrive. It’s early morning at Salmon Glacier. The viewpoint is from above the ice sheet. We look out and down at the five visible miles of 1000 foot thick ice. We can “see” the flow of this icy river. In the stillness we can hear faint creaks as the ice grinds against moraine. It’s a meditative place, so we hang around.

The twenty miles of dirt road that gets us here was built by a mining company. It’s utilitarian, not glamorous, but the surroundings are. In two miles we count 17 waterfalls. They are everywhere, draining the upper reaches. Somebody left the faucet running. We are at the snow line and the water is sculpting what remains. We’ve driven into the clouds and then above them and right back into British Columbia. The banks of forget-me-nots don’t seem to care they’re on the wrong side of the border.

We continue beyond the glacier just to experience more of this road, but not too far, it ends in 6 miles. We do a little jade mining of our own when we see some greenish rocks. We load a few into the truck for further investigation back in Spokane.

Keith Scott, the self-proclaimed, Bear Man is camped near Salmon Glacier. He has a one-man tent plus his car and he lives here all summer, selling DVDs of bears to tourists. We buy one, just to honor his tenacity and gentle way. Later, we learn while talking to a couple of Hyder locals that he drives from New Brunswick every year and has been coming for 28 years. They tell us he played professional basketball in Canada and does nature talks at schools.

Ponder the choices we make to fashion our lives.

We mail a post card at the Hyder post office, zip code 99923. The stated pick up times are twice weekly. No hurry.

We stop in Stewart to walk on the ¼ mile boardwalk out into the estuary for a grand view of Portland Canal. The map shows Misty Fjords to the west, and the Pacific Ocean straight ahead. Yellow cinquefoil is poking waxy heads through the graying slats, making an eye-catching contrast.

 The Stewart museum has displays on the five movies filmed in this area. Bear Island (1978), The Thing (1981), Ice Man (1982), Leaving Normal (1991), and Insomnia (2002). We have to be satisfied with what we learn at the Visitor’s Centre because today, the museum, (and just about everything else) has a hand lettered sign on the door saying “closed for graduation”. Yes, there are lots of cars in the school parking lot and the community is honoring their young people. Graduation trumps museum, no contest.

We head back on the Stewart-Hyder access road, glad we came. Wall to wall waterfalls thread their way down the canyon walls, following the path of least resistance in free fall.

We do a Bear Glacier redux for lunch and then we’re back on the Cassiar Highway.

There is the one lane wood plank bridge 130 feet over the Ness River, a view of four of the Seven Sisters, the graying stand of authentic totem poles in Gitwangak, and the ginger-red splashes of Indian paintbrush and then we are off the Cassiar. The sights become less natural and more sophisticated, like the world’s largest fly fishing rod, (60 feet long with a 21 inch fluorescent fly), in Houston, BC.
☺

Wildlife count: 2 eagles, marmots, 2 black bears

Airstreams: 1

Miles: 299

Gratitudes: PKB: special people special places JMB: the Salmon Glacier Road

Gin Score:

Authentic Totems

Salmon Glacier

Iskut, BC to Hyder, Alaska

A red fox with a white pouf on his tail tip crosses the road as we set out.

Bears appear all day long. One makes a lasting impression by looking straight at us with a mouth too full of leaves and twigs, just having breakfast. Another sits upright at the side of the road giving us the once over, one more 'who is watching who' moment. A little guy scampers as we approach, unsure which direction to take. This is a bear zone.

Mileage markers reappear, as do double yellow lines, but the road remains narrow. We cross several constricted wood decked bridges with “yield to oncoming traffic” signs, but there is no traffic, oncoming or otherwise. We pass the site of a 1950’s forest fire which is now an abundant huckleberry patch. The Barrage River flows in a deep-cut canyon around rock pinnacle islands.

The mountains play peak-a-boo behind wispy gray-white clouds, ducking in and out of view. Avalanche chutes still filled with snow and ice but benign in the summertime become visible on the high slopes.

Northern yarrow and cow parsnips hoist their white heads on tall stalks, and white daisies with yellow centers are sprinkled like salt in the greenery.

We cannot resist one last meander. We take the turn onto the Stewart-Hyder Access Road. It’s a spur road off a side road leading to two small communities. Stewart, (population 699), is in British Columbia at the head of Portland Canal, a narrow saltwater fjord about 90 miles long which forms a natural border between Canada and Alaska. Hyder, (population 100), is 2 miles further on in a little piece of Alaska that’s so small there’s no US border crossing. The access road is a neck swiveling experience with multiple waterfalls dropping down on both sides. Although it hardly qualifies as a highway this route is called The Glacier Highway. The hanging glaciers, (definitely plural) are spectacular, but Bear Glacier is the big daddy. It pours down into a lake all blue ice and glint. We stop for lunch and admiration.

Bear River Canyon is a dramatic passage. Near a “watch for landslides” sign a tractor is parked and ready to clear debris. Probably comes in handy.

We drive through Stewart and on into Hyder where the pavement dramatically turns to dirt. We drop the trailer at Camp Run-A-Muck and drive out to Fish Creek to the bear viewing platform. When the pink and chum salmon spawn in this creek, (August and September), the bears come in droves, and so do people. The platform is a long gated boardwalk with walls paralleling the creek. There are rules. You must be quiet, you must not disturb the bears, (and eagles and sometimes wolves), you must stay inside the boardwalk, and oh, don't forget to close the gate. All is quiet today, we are here too early, but we envision the action.

Wildlife count: 1 fox, 6 black bears

Airstreams: 0

Miles: 210

Gratitudes: PKB: bears and more bears JMB: the vistas in the canyon

Gin Score: J:2725 P: 2795

Welcome to Hyder

Bear Viewing at Fish Creek

Whitehorse, Yukon Territory to Iskut, BC

We do some back tracking through Teslin to Junction 37 where we turn south onto the Cassiar Highway. We were rookies when we came through here more than two weeks ago. Now we have the mud, dirt and grime to prove our road experience. The big question around the RV parks in the evening is: “Are you on the way to Alaska or on the way back?” We are among the few who are on the way back.

We drive over the Nisutlin Bay Bridge again, but only once this time.

We pass the section where teenagers have spelled out names and messages in the embankment with white rocks. Peace signs, class of, just married, (seriously?) Adolescent billboards.

The Cassiar Highway is a special place. We slip into this undisturbed, undeveloped territory through a side door, like Alice into Wonderland. It reminds me of driving on a forest service road, only it’s paved. There are no lines, and no mile markers, a narrow strip closed in by dense trees. Sections of the road are bermed with 2-5 foot drop-offs from the shoulder, like driving an on-ramp for miles.

We stop for lunch at Blues Lake; it’s totally silent, just the lap of the water and the cries of birds. Just us.

This is a special area and we take pleasure in passing through. We’re gatecrashers in this pristine wilderness world.

In the midst of this natural splendor we come upon Jade City. There’s a jade mine in the nearby mountains. This place is filled with mass produced jade junk in the business of mining tourists. Onward.

Needlepoint Mountain makes a show. Definitely named after the stylus and not the crewel.

We cross the Arctic Pacific Divide. This summit marks the divide between the Pacific and Arctic Ocean watersheds. Never considered it before today.

Our stop for tonight is the Mountain Shadow RV Park half a mile off the highway in an out-of-the-way spot surrounded by snow capped peaks. Secluded, sensational, and it’s for sale! 235 acres, a slice of heaven, and only $1,200,000 Canadian. It’s a bargain. Anyone?

Wildlife count: 2 black bears (one was brown), 2 moose, 1 eagle

Airstreams: 0

Miles: 444

Gratitudes: PKB: permission to enter  JMB: the girl I’m with

Gin Score: J: 2585 P: 2600

Lunch

Needlepoint Mountain

Tok, Alaska to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory

A bumper sticker reads: “Was the guy who built this road coming from hell or going to it?”

We are passing through an area where winter temperatures can reach -72 and temperatures stay below freezing about 165 days of the year. This road has been under re-construction since it was built in 1942. This particular stretch presents some unique challenges. According to an informational board: “ …much of the soil is of glacial origin and unsuitable for road embankments. Anything that causes the permafrost to melt will cause the ice-rich soil to liquefy, and liquid soil has little strength and will settle then subside. When it refreezes it expands or heaves. This process wreaks havoc on the road surface by creating undulations and cracking.”  May I politely say that this is an understatement of great proportion? We bounce and heave for 200 miles. We catch air on some of these bumps, and others raise you up and slam you down like a pile driver.

When we stop at the Yukon government Visitor Centre we mention the road conditions to the ranger there and she tells us the road ahead is worse. We stay awhile.

They have a map of the world and everyone who stops puts a pin into their home city. Eastern Washington is pretty full already, but we manage to squeak in a red-topped pin. There’s also a variety of molds of animal paws and some soft sand to make imprints. We test a few.

Even with the rough ride, there are positives.

The Kluane Range parallels the highway. Every crisp peak and snow field is accentuated by the blue sky background. Their knobby backbones rub up against the heavens.

There’s a view around every bend and curve. Chain after chain of small lakes and over-sized ponds and then, the 154 square mile Kluane Lake, the longest in Yukon Territory. It’s smooth as a mirror today and reflecting back images of sky, cloud and mountain.

We come around a curve and drive right into a painting, the last piece of Kluane Lake and the Ruby Range, ready to hang above the couch.

This is a migratory bird route. Hundreds of thousands of birds from as far away as South America return here each spring to nest and raise their young. Trumpeter swans are among them. We see them in secluded ponds. They are great big birds.

We leave Alaska at the Beaver Creek border crossing. This is Canada’s most westerly community. We turn our watches back to Pacific Time and re-enter the land of the Loonie and the Twonie.

Our Lady of the Way Church in Haines Junction was created by a resourceful priest in 1943 from a Quonset hut left behind by the American Army after they’d completed the Alaska Highway. He fashioned a one of a kind place of worship with a name we find especially appropriate today.

As we rock and roll on this crazy road we check from time to time to see if the trailer is still behind us. It never fails to be there..

We hear about a couple whose microwave has fallen out of their fifth wheel because of the road. When we check our trailer at the end of the day we find 3 ripe tomatoes have fallen out of the cupboard and splattered onto the floor and every hanger in our tiny closet has fallen off the rod.

Giddy up!

Wildlife count: 4 trumpeter swans, 1 eagle

Airstreams: 1

Miles: 387

Gratitudes: PKB: the guy driving this rig JMB: the girl with me

Gin Score: J: 2340 P: 2415

Our Lady of the Way

Seward, Alaska to Tok, Alaska

We put some miles on today.

After dropping our hitchhiker at the Anchorage airport we turn east on the Glenn Highway. With Anchorage in the rearview mirror we head back towards Yukon Territory.

The mountains are out today, checking their reflections in the mirrored lakes at their feet.

The Matanuska Glacier is about two miles wide; at its terminus it’s four miles wide and drains into the Matanuska River. When this huge iceberg comes into view in the middle of a balmy sun-drenched day it seems incongruous, like the freezer fell open and spilled its contents.

The highway follows the Matanuska River which changes character over the miles. Here it’s wide, shallow and flat with many lazy channels braided among gravel bars, the bed too wide for its water. There it’s wild with rapids and river rafters are taking advantage. Eventually it will empty into Cook Inlet, a day’s drive away.

The road goes high, the river stays low. We come curving and winding down and splayed out in front of us is a complicated mix of greens and browns in the river valley, putting the scenic in this designated scenic highway. Grand and grander.

We cross the Copper River, which stays mostly out of sight. This is one of the sources of the much touted and much eaten Copper River Salmon.

Frost heaves and road construction make for tricky driving.

Sheep Mountain is worthy of a stop. It is a mix of unusual color caused by the presence of gypsum stained with iron oxide (rust).

Instead of a yellow sign with a moose pictured on it, we see a real moose... crossing. He’s not a first timer; he gets to the pavement and runs.

Wildlife count: 3 moose + 2 calves, bison herd, 1 sandhill crane, 3 swans, 2 Dall sheep

Airstreams: 2

Miles: 454

Gratitudes: PKB: friendship  JMB: the truck can handle it

Gin Score: J: 2330 P: 2305

Sheep Mountain

Seward, Alaska

An incredible day! No doubt about it.

The Park Service offers day-long cruises into the waters of Kenai Fjords National Park. Our destination is Holgate Glacier but along the way we see one amazing sight after another. Our boat is piloted by a Krissy Bendt look-a-like. She is cute as can be, knows exactly what she’s doing, and can spot sea critters like nobody’s business.

As we glide out into Resurrection Bay a bald eagle poses for photos, and sea otters roll and float and charm while doing the back float. The otters look small and cuddly but are five feet in length and weigh around 70 pounds. Loons bob in clusters and Dall porpoises frolic in the boat’s bow wake like they’ve found a carnival ride. This park was created to protect the Harding Icefield and the creatures that live in and around the surrounding waters. The ice field is 600 square miles of ice and snow and the largest ice field wholly contained within the borders of the United States.

These cold northern oceans provide more food than tropical waters, and this area is filled with sustenance. All around the boat what seems like hundreds of off-shore orcas, (the killer whale), surface and dive, this pod comes into the bay for one day, once a year to feed, and we are here to witness their feeding frenzy. These are carnivores and they are hunting beneath us, killing sleeper sharks, porpoises, and any other marine mammal unfortunate enough to cross their path. There’s a lot going on down there. We can hear them “singing” in an audiophone recording our captain has made. The detritus from their kills floats to the surface and attracts feathered scavengers. All varieties of gulls flock and feed, including the common murre, otherwise known as Alaska’s penguin because of its similar markings. Meanwhile, we observe in awe.

Out in the Gulf of Alaska humpback whales cavort for us, repeatedly giving us the tail. They take 500 gallons of water into their mouths and then sieve it back out retaining the krill and other tiny organisms. It’s a big all you can eat buffet out there. Our skipper tells us they sometimes cruise for seven hours looking for just one whale. Today, we have many gifts from Neptune.

Deep in Aialik Bay, Holgate Glacier dwarfs our boat with its 600 foot face. Our captain tells us to “listen to the glacier”. We hear a freight train, a jet engine, BOOM, a rifle shot, creaking, grinding, SPLASH. Huge chunks of ice break off, (calve), and fall into the water. We see them plunge before the sound reaches us. The glacier fascinates. It is always active, always moving.
While we’re busy “listening” the crew is doing a little ice fishing. They use a net to haul in a chunk of glacier ice. They rinse it with hot water and begin chipping it into small bits. As we chug away from the glacier they are mixing glacieritas for us, chilled with glacial ice.

Last “stop” is the rookeries in the Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge. On giant rocky crags of pillow basalt, Steller’s sea lions and multitudes of birds are hanging out. Scientists are studying the sea lions because they are losing numbers and no one is certain as to why. A web cam has been installed for observation purposes and the resulting transmission is broadcast on channel 6 in Seward. Anyone can watch.

The birds are numerous, but the tufted puffins are the most unusual and unique. Black feathers and a white face emphasize their thick red bill, their yellow tufts are most apparent during mating season. We watch them dive and dip and flutter and roost on the rocks. They are chunky looking, and don't look flight ready. Appealing in every way.

As we head back, the orcas surround us once again and then start heading out to sea. Their day is done, and so is ours.

As we glide into port we pass our Airstream sitting patiently in the waterfront park. Home isn’t far away.

Oh, there once was a Puffin
Just the shape of a muffin,
And he lived on an island
In the bright blue sea!

He ate little fishes,
That were most delicious,
And he had them for supper
And he had them for tea.

A favorite childhood poem, by Florence Page Jaques.

Wildlife count: 1 black bear, 4 eagles, 3 sea otters, 1 mountain goat, kittiwake gulls, common murres, loons, cormorants, Steller’s sea lions, tufted puffins, Dall porpoises, orcas, humpback whales

Airstreams: 0

Miles: 0

Gratitudes: PKB: orcas schedule synched with ours JMB: Mother Nature up close

Gin Score: J: 2140 P: 2160

Poser

Glacier Ice

Steller's Sea Lions

Homer, Alaska to Seward, Alaska

Happy Father’s Day to all the special dads in my life: the fathers of our beautiful and brilliant grandchildren, (+ one soon to be), and the father of my beautiful and brilliant daughters.

Things look different in reverse. We back track to Soldotna on our way to Seward. Taking the Kalifornsky Beach Road loop affords the opportunity to see a working fish cannery, (not very glamorous), and several most likely million dollar homes with million dollar views.

We’re socked in today. It’s a relief because I’m running out of words to describe the mountains in this place. Maybe they need a rest too, consequently they’re undercover.

Father’s Day brings out the fishermen in even greater numbers, by the hundreds in fact. The pullouts are jam packed with rigs, the rivers are wall-to-wall rods and reels.

As we turn south towards Seward we’re in new territory and we find the tiny community of Moose Pass (population: 189) celebrating the summer solstice with the Annual Moose Pass Summer Festival. White tented booths hold carnival games for the kids, firemen grilling sausages, local crafters displaying their work; the ASPCA’s petting booth and the filling station selling “Moose Pass Gas” T-shirts. The firehouse is decked out with painted swallow houses. They tell us they love their swallows….who feed on mosquitoes.

Another stop at Bear Creek Weir to watch the red salmon crowding in the creek and leaping a small manmade waterfall. The creek is intentionally dammed by the Cook Inlet Aquaculture Association to stop “excess” fish from returning to their spawning grounds in nearby Bear Lake. As we watch the fish being scooped out of the water and dumped in boxes to die it all seems like Machiavellian manipulation, but evidently it’s being done in the name of science and for the protection of future salmon, but certainly not the ones we are seeing today.

When we reach Seward we drive out along Resurrection Bay to Lowell Point on a narrow gravel road fronting the bay. Another no guard rail experience, this time nose to nose with the harbor seals.

Exit Glacier is just out of town and then an easy walk from the visitor’s center to great views of this three mile long ice flow descending from the Harding Icefields.

Our site for the night is right on the bay with views of both water and mountains in this “city” named for the man who arranged the purchase of Alaska from the Russians in 1867. Quite the acquisition, even though at the time it was known as Seward’s Folly.

Wildlife count: 14 eagles, 2 harbor seals, 2 moose and one calf, 1 swan

Airstreams: 2

Miles: 240

Gratitudes: PKB: glacial sparkle JMB: my beautiful daughters

Gin Score: J: 2055 P: 2015

Exit Glacier

Exit Glacier Two

Soldotna , Alaska to Homer, Alaska

Eagles rule! We stop counting at 20. They are everywhere, soaring, swooping, perching, nesting, and looking regal. They must know they have national status. It’s in the attitude.

Thrusting upwards out of Cook Inlet are Mounts Iliamna, Redoubt, Augustine and Spurr of the Aleutian Chain. They are sizzling components in the Ring of Fire. Augustine is the most recent eruptor in 2006, but Redoubt rumbled and spewed ash in 2009.

The Aleutian Chain extends beyond the International Date Line to the Bering Sea and separates the Pacific and Arctic Oceans.

The Holy Transfiguration of Our Lord, Russian Orthodox Church is an active place of worship just off the Sterling Highway. It sits on a bluff overlooking Cook Inlet, behind a graveyard of embellished white wooden crosses; all tilted this way and that. Wild flowers grow between the grave mounds, tendering an untamed look. The clapboard siding and five turnip shaped turrets, each with a simple cross attached, add to the building’s foreign air.

Our destination is Homer. It’s located at The End of the Sterling Highway. When the formal road finishes a tiny graveled tributary allows us to continue driving out onto the Homer Spit. The Spit is a three mile or so squat strip about 100 yards wide that extends into Kachemak Bay like a crooked finger. We stop at the tip of the peninsula to gape at the 180 degree view. The mountains are plastered in front of us like a post card wall. We are simply passing spectators.

The Spit is a hub of fishing activity. Deteriorating vessels litter the sidelines; camping tents scatter along the shoreline, three para-surfers jump waves like porpoises. Crude boardwalks thread through the middle on either side of the road fronting shops, and cafes, with every other building offering a charter or selling fresh fish or something relating to fishing. The Salty Dawg Saloon is a Spit landmark identifiable by the lighthouse built into its structure. Inside, tacked to every inch of the low ceilings and rough walls are dollar bills autographed and/or adorned with messages from the ones who fastened them there. A few brasseries are mixed in and a business card or two. The dress code is no dress code, in fact just get off the fishing boat and come on in, the smellier you are, the better you’ll fit in.

We find an RV park of sorts where the spaces are marked off with fishing buoys. We back right up to the water, so close it’s lapping at our bumper. An eagle is perched on a lofty post across the way. Who’s watching who?

We’re surrounded by fishermen. While we’re feasting on fresh-out-of-the-water halibut, in this Halibut Capital of the World; they’ve been out on the water all day and are having brauts for dinner. How do we know? They knock on the trailer door wanting to borrow our mustard. Happy to be neighborly!

Just at the approach to the only stop light in town is a massive eagle’s nest. Mama sits proudly nurturing her young eaglets while tourists and townspeople alike cruise by.

Wildlife count: 20 bald eagles

Airstreams: 1

Miles: 105

Gratitudes: PKB: majestic mountains JMB: fresh halibut

Gin Score: J: 1895 P: 1910

Russian Orthodox Church

Salty Dawg Saloon

Anchorage, Alaska to Soldotna, Alaska

We pick up a hitch hiker today. Well, sort of. She’s a long-time friend who’ll travel with us through the Kenai Peninsula. She brings familiarity in an out-of-the-ordinary place and a new and welcome element to our conversation.

Just add water. We’ve seen streams, lakes, ponds and mighty rivers but now, a new component: open water coming from the sea. Turnagain Arm wraps partially around the bottom of “main land” Alaska in a beautiful blue embrace. A stop at Beluga Point invites us to look for the only all white whales. Of course, they have been hunted to near extinction and are classified “near threatened.” Sorry not to see a single one. However, the snowy, blue, mountains that rise behind the water are a commanding presence. Knockouts!

We have moved from inland scenery to coastal. Low lying blooms are tucked into rocky crevices and spontaneous waterfalls spill down from far above us. As we drive south we see stands of dead spruce trees along the roadway. The 1964 Good Friday earthquake caused the land to sink and the invading saltwater destroyed them.

We’re traveling the Seward Highway towards the Kenai Peninsula but we take a four mile detour to traverse the Alyeska Highway. It takes us to Girdwood where the Alyeska Ski Resort dominates. This is the high rent district for sure. The resort has 304 rooms an indoor swimming pool, gift shops galore, uniformed bell hops and is surrounded with flower beds planted with tulips 10 deep. It backs up to a soaring mountain which hosts an aerial tram taking summer tourists up the mountain. We watch a red sailed para-glider drift lazily down from the mountain top, just a scarlet scrap in all that blue sky. A bike trail stretches 13 miles from Girdwood back along the Turnagain Arm to a community called Bird. Hence the name “Bird to Gird”.

Back on the Seward Highway we head south. Spencer Glacier appears ahead and it looks as though we could drive right up into it if only the road didn’t veer away.

We cross Spokane Creek.

Along the Kenai River we catch a glimpse of the numerous fishermen who ply this river. They stand in their waders like soldiers in formation, dozens of them, yards apart, out in the current casting and recasting. They situate themselves 10 feet or more from the bank which puzzles us, until we learn that it’s a regulation that they must do so. The idea is to protect the streamside vegetation. This vegetation helps slow the current and creates ideal flows for young fish. Eighty percent of all young salmon are found within 6 feet of a river’s bank.

In Soldotna we investigate a fish-walk at the visitor’s center. It’s a walkway along the riverbank that makes the gorgeous river accessible to the casual sightseer.

We admire the decorated halibut and salmon cookies at the Moose is Loose Bakery, but the chocolate chippers are the ones that we take home.

We have our own personal eagle atop a tall tree at the RV park. He rides his treetop as it moves in the wind. He’s unconcerned with our presence and we observe him for a long time before he glides away. He returns with a salmon in his talons and is that a triumphant look in his eye?

Wildlife count: 4 bald eagles

Airstreams: 0

Miles: 198

Gratitudes: PKB: hitch hiking companion JMB: bald eagles up close

Gin Score: J: 1885  P: 1775

Halibut Cookies

Kenai Fish-Walk

Salmon Anyone?

Anchorage, Alaska

Catch up day.

There’s a Costco in Anchorage and shopping there feels just like home. We stock up on provisions that will last for the duration. A stop at a laundromat takes care of another chore.

We eat lunch facing the Knik Arm. Anchorage is a port city and a water view is easily accessible.

Merrill Airport serves private aircraft and on a summer day there can be as many as 1,100 take-offs and landings. They say one of every 60 people in Alaska is a pilot. That would mean about 8000 in Anchorage alone. With the small private airfield, the International airport and Elmendorf Air Force Base the airplanes buzz overhead like flies.

This “city of flowers” lives up to its moniker. Hanging baskets adorn every light post and businesses seem to compete with elaborate plantings.

There’s an aroma of reindeer sausage in the air. The outdoor vendors don’t traffic in ordinary dogs.

Fresh Dungeness for dinner.

In Anchorage we are 4,683 miles from Paris and 2,015 from San Francisco and what feels like light years from Spokane.

Wildlife count: 0

Airstreams: 1

Miles: 0

Gratitudes: PKB: crab legs JMB: Costco

Gin Score: J: 1775 P: 1680

Little Cabin Big City

City of Flowers

Denali, Alaska to Anchorage, Alaska

We leave Denali in the rain but as we lose elevation we lose the moisture and it turns into a lovely day. We have no hope of seeing “the great one”. She’s covered in clouds and they look locked into place. There are many mountain viewpoints as we head south. We stop at several and then give it up. It’s enough to know the mountain is there.

Railroad tracks cross the highway at several points and each crossing signal is powered by small solar panels and wind generators. Ingenius!!

A 14 mile side-trip on a spur road brings us to a dead end in the tiny community of Talkeetna. This small place is a blend of tourism and serious business. The two block main street is lined with gift shops, artist’s galleries, and cafes housed in old, restored log and clapboard buildings. We look at earrings made from porcupine quills. Jim asks how the jeweler got them….the answer: “road kill dude.”

This wee village also provides aviation support and serves as a supply base for McKinley climbers. Mr. Stubbs, a yellow tabby cat, was officially elected mayor of Talkeetna by write in ballot. Look for him on the 2012 Republican presidential ticket.

A stop at the Flying Squirrel Bakery adds a loaf of freshly baked multi-grain bread to our trailer pantry.

We pass through Wasilla, a surprisingly modern small town, (Population 7028). We look eagerly for Russia, but don’t see it. They do have the state’s largest Walmart and it’s known for selling more duct tape than any other Walmart in the world. At their farmer’s market we (I) purchase baby bok choy and spring turnips for tonight’s dinner menu.

We take a break from RV lots and pull into Eagle River Campground in Chugach State Park, a few miles north of Anchorage. We have genuine river burbles and splashes as our soundtrack this evening.

Wildlife count: 0

Airstreams: 1

Miles: 258

Gratitudes: PKB: river music and baby bok choy  JMB: back to nature in a state park

Gin Score: J: 1665 P:1440

Talkeetna

Happy Camper

Denali National Park, Alaska

Sitting on a bus, for twelve hours…

It doesn’t sound appealing, but it turns out to be quite an engaging day.

There is one road in the park, it’s 93 miles long. We drive the whole thing, (actually we are driven), both ways. Private vehicles are not allowed past a certain point, so we spend our day in a glorified school bus with seat belts. (Bill Clinton decreed that seat belts must be worn in national parks.)

Our driver, Kate, has been driving this route for 20 years. We are glad of her expertise as both a naturalist and a skilled navigator on this skinny gravel and dirt road with steep drop offs (still no guard rails). We sometimes experience “the kissing of the buses” when two buses need to maneuver past each other on a road that seems wide enough for only one.

This road will never be paved because wildlife uses it as a trail, especially in the winter. The park is patrolled by dogsled in the wintertime.

Denali is an intact ecosystem.

At the park’s lowest elevation it’s populated with alder, spruce and cottonwood trees, as we go higher the spruce dominate, and at the highest elevations it’s tundra. The tundra is spongy lichen; green tussocks of vegetation. There are 400 different species in Denali. Kate tells us the bears use it as a mattress and lay spread eagle. The caribou consume it as their main staple.

Treed alleyways open up into big wide glacially formed valleys girded by the foothills of the Alaska Range with Mt McKinley/Denali reigning as their crown jewel. The treed mountains become rocky fingers and toes poking into the sky. Where trees try to get a foothold in the permafrost they appear drunken as they tilt unsteadily. This park covers 6 million acres and equals the size of the state of Massachusetts. We’ve got a lot of exploring to do. No wonder we need 12 hours, although with that we get only a cursory look.

Here’s a sampling:

A yearling moose with antlers just starting to bud

Soaring Northern Harriers, (marsh hawks)

Mew gulls nesting among the rocks in a river bed

Snowshoe hares turning from winter white to dark

Empty beaver lodges, (not enough winter snow meant not enough insulation for them to survive here last winter)

A grizzly sow with her two tumbling, wrestling cubs

Dall sheep with their lambs

And what our Ranger Andy calls the sighting of a life time, a wolverine loping down the road in front of the bus. We follow him at a respectful distance for more than two miles. He probably isn’t the brightest wolverine on the planet as he could detour into the brush at any time. We mark his progress by the ptarmigan flushing on either side of him. This is one of the most aggressive animals in the wild and is rarely seen. At first glance he looks like a bear but then his blonde skunky stripes become visible and we know him for what he is.

The park is coming into bloom with Arctic bluebells, yellow daisies of arnica, tiny white rock cress, mountain avens, (a white flower with a yellow center), deep pink clumps of moss campion, Alaska’s state flower forget-me-not, small clustered cups of rosy rhododendron, bright white Canada dogwood, Labrador tea, arctic lupine, wind flower in white with a green center, the enthusiastic wild sweet pea in purple and blowsy, feathery tufts of cotton grass. Beautiful gifts of nature.

With all of these incredible sights the only thing missing is the mountain. It remains discreetly behind cloud cover. We see just a corner. Only 25% of park visitors see it. She’s obviously elusive. The word Denali means the high one, the great one in Athabascan. Great enough to do as she pleases.

Ranger Andy climbs aboard the bus to talk about the mining history in the park. He takes us on short hikes, one at Wonder Lake and one near the cabin where Fanny Quigley lived and died. She lived here before it was a park with her miner husband. She worked hard every day and when her husband broke his leg and moved to Seattle she decided to stay on alone in this place that she loved.  She died here at the age of 73 when the average female life span was 55.

At the visitor’s center there are antler displays to handle and hoist. The caribou horns are extremely ungainly. I wonder how they step so gracefully in narrow places. The moose antlers are unexpectedly heavy. They can weigh more than 70 pounds, apiece.

Lunch on the bus today is our first meal not prepared in the trailer kitchen.

We skip the shuttle bus to walk the two miles back to the village. We’ve been sitting most of the day and the exercise feels good. We have an additional reward when along the trail we pass, (warily), a mama moose and her twin calves.

Have you ever seen those couples, usually older people, who dress alike? We’ve always sort of made fun of the whole idea. But yesterday, there was a two for one sale on Alaska jackets and today we wore them at the same time and place. Concerning

Wildlife count: 2 golden eagles, 15 caribou, 6 moose, and two calves, 3 Northern Harriers, 18 Dall sheep and 2 lambs, 3 snowshoe hares, 3 grizzly bears and 2 cubs, picas, 3 willow ptarmigan up close, plus many more, 1 wolverine, 1 red throated loon, 1 wigeon.

Airstreams: 0

Miles: 184 on a bus

Gratitudes: PKB: intact ecosystems JMB: Kate, our bus driver

Gin Score: No gin game tonight

Antler Chic

Mosquito Nets

Twins

Fairbanks, Alaska to Denali, Alaska

Short drive today. We enjoy a leisurely morning before hitching up and moving out. We are heading to Denali National Park. This is a place we look forward to with a great deal of anticipation. We move in and out of rain, but the day is mostly clear. The frost heaves are so big and rounded you can see them coming. Rolling over these areas is just like riding a roller coaster. Otherwise the highway is in good shape with lots of passing lanes and it feels rather ordinary. We pass the place where the Into the Wild bus is located. Well, it’s out there somewhere, a long hike and two rivers to ford away.

The Nenana Canyon channels us into Denali Park and very quickly thereafter into McKinley Village. It’s a tiny community with a couple of upscale lodges and a variety of shops, tour companies, and small restaurants lining the roadway. We mistakenly drive into a spot where we can’t back up or turn around, so Jim drives creatively through a pedestrian area, very similar to a previous incident in Firenze, (if you were there in 1984, you know what I’m talking about).

We are surrounded by beautiful mountains, but the big one cannot be seen from here. Tomorrow we’ll take an all-day bus tour into the park. Hope the clouds stay away.

I do a little shopping, and my credit card company traces the course of my existence. They always know right where I am.

Wildlife count: 0

Airstreams: 2

Miles: 119

Gratitudes: PKB: the guy driving this rig  JMB: steaks on the barbie

Gin Score: J: 1465 P: 1360

Fairbanks, Alaska

Our day starts with an amble in the Georgeson Botanical Gardens on the campus of the University of Alaska. This place must be a wonder by the end of the growing season. In mid June, it boasts lots and lots of columbine, lilacs, honeysuckle, day lilies, iris, spirea, and Jana’s peonies, a type I haven’t seen before. I definitely want to plant this interesting peony in my own garden.  If it can grow in Fairbanks it ought to be able to grow on Riegel Court. I particularly like the sign on a fenced area stating that the fence was moose protection. They love young apple trees, enough so, that they will eat the entire tree.

Also on the U of A campus is the Museum of the North. What a fantastic place! The architecture is slightly reminiscent of the Guggenheim in Bilbao. The bright white points and curves of the exterior and the interior spaces that contract and expand are meant to evoke whales, icebergs, mountains, and glaciers. The collections of cultural, wildlife, and historic objects are displayed so cleanly and effectively that I think this might be my very favorite museum ever. There is an exceptional space that tips the balance; it is called “The Place Where You Go to Listen”. Inside this narrow all-white room is a partition of changing color. The rest of the room is filled with virtual sound. It’s like chords, but not music, with a bass line of reverberations that resonate like an irregular heartbeat. The forces of nature resound in this room. We exist in an ecosystem of sound and light. The earth and air and sky are filled with vibrations that we can’t hear. The sounds in this room react to sensors which are placed around Alaska. The deep sounds represent seismic activity in the earth, (which is constant). The chords and colors change in response to sunlight and moonlight, (they say you can hear the difference between night and day). When the aurora is present the chords transform. There is a feeling of connectedness here. If you sit on the one and only bench and close your eyes you feel bonded with the earth and sky. Awe-inspiring!

The museum has a movie presentation on winter in Alaska, (Alaskans eat more ice cream than any other Americans. They say they need the calories to help them stay warm), another on the construction of the unusual museum building and a third on the aurora borealis, (finally, an excellent presentation). We watch them all. Did you know there is an aurora in the Southern Hemisphere, (aurora australis)? OK, but did you know it exactly mirrors the one in the Northern Hemisphere? Neither did we.

The afternoon is gorgeous, all sunshiny and blue so it’s perfect for a paddlewheel boat “cruise” on the Chena River. We make one stop at a replica of an Athabascan village. Our young guide is Athabascan and we enjoy the authentic portrayal of her grandfather’s primitive life-style, (she says now he has email). She still goes with her family every summer to fish camp where they harvest and preserve salmon for the winter.

An extra highlight on the river was a stop to see where Susan Butcher lived and trained her sled dogs. Susan won the Iditarod four times, in 1986, ‘87, ‘88 and ’90. She died of cancer in 2006, but her husband, David Monson and her two daughters still raise and train huskies. Dave demonstrates how the dogs run with a sled. Their enthusiasm, strength, and speed are impressive.

Just as the boat reaches the dock our sunny day ends abruptly in a heavy downpour. Fairbanks averages only 12 inches of rain in a year. Seems like they got most of that this afternoon.

Wildlife count: 0

Airstreams: 0

Miles: 0

Gratitudes: PKB: U of Alaska JMB: my wife

Gin Score: J: 1285 P: 1285 

Botanical Gardens

Susan Butcher's Dogs

Stuffed Wildlife

Tok, Alaska to Fairbanks, Alaska

Setting out this morning is bittersweet. We will come to the end of the Alaska Highway when we reach Delta Junction. How can that be? We really have lots left to see and do and we are far, far from home, but still and all the end of the fabled Alaska Highway seems to be coming too soon.

The drive today is beauty as usual. Crossing Robertson River Bridge shocks as we look down to see the river flowing out from under snow and glaciated ice looking to be about 10 feet thick. The ice is water-color glacier blue. The clear sunny day seems at odds with the ice and snow. Then we realize that the river begins at the terminus of Robertson Glacier.

When the highway passes through an area of permafrost or muskeg the trees are stunted. It seems north facing slopes are prone to the crooked little trees. The warmer south facing slopes nurture tall dense stands.

In Delta Junction we find the monument that marks the end of the highway. The visitor’s center provides a certificate that states the bearer has completed the drive. We have ours rolled up and protected in an empty paper towel tube. It’s interesting to note that Fairbanks also claims the distinction of being the end of the highway but history does not bear it out.

There’s a farmer’s market nearby set up in log cabin-like booths. We come away with loot in the form of homemade bread, peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies, garden fresh green onions and cucumbers.

We head out towards Fairbanks on the Richardson Highway stopping along the way at Rika’s Roadhouse on the south bank of the Tanana River. This is a historic site with a collection of log structures preserved and furnished as it looked in the early 1900’s. The park-like grounds complete with chickens and a penned lamb provide a great place for a leg stretching stroll.

Crossing the Tanana River we have a spectacular view of the Alaska pipeline. It’s suspended above the river and it looks just like …..a pipeline!

My Milepost tells me there’s a place called The Knotty Shop which features burl wood sculptures, but what’s more important is they offer a free scoop of ice cream if you bring in their Milepost ad. Done! Cute place, generous scoop, chocolate brownie in a cup with two spoons.

Last stop before Fairbanks is in North Pole, Alaska. They play on the Santa/Christmas theme big time. Mistletoe Lane leads us to Santa’s house where several live reindeer languish in their pen. Santa is “in the house” and available for a chat. He wants me to sit on his lap; actually he leaves me very little choice. So, big photo op and then we’re pretty much out of there.

RV park on the Chena (long e) River. Serenity among the big rigs. 

Wildlife count: 0

Airstreams: 1

Miles: 202

Gratitudes: PKB: free ice cream JMB: there’s a Freddy Meyer in Fairbanks!

Gin Score: J: 1125  P: 1135

Highway's End

North Pole, Alaska

The Pipeline