Destination Circle: Day 22

June 4, 2016

It was drizzling in the morning and I drove around this little town thinking there might be an oil change place but didn't find one and then went in search of a coffee shop and didn't find one of those either. I almost headed out of town, but decided to eat breakfast first at what appeared to be the only open restaurant. Even the harbor was quiet except for a few guys doing boat maintenance.

Thompson Pass just north of Valdez (yesterday)

If the weather had been cloudy yesterday, I would have completely missed the show as today I could see almost nothing except clouds and fog for a couple of hours. But I will never forget the absolutely incredible scenery of this route in the brilliant late afternoon sun.

I took a small detour through Copper Center, a historic gold-mining area, seeing many old log cabins, slowly slumping back to earth, tilted and askew, with windows and doors open to the critters. The few families scattered through this area live in haphazard dwellings, their yards filling up with old vehicles, wood piles, outbuildings, barrels, boxes, bicycles, trash heaps, discarded furniture, kids' toys, dogs....How do intact kids emerge from these situations?

Boreal Forest Trail - Wrangell-St. Elias NP

Stopping back at the Wrangell-St. Elias VC, I got a cup of coffee offered free to travelers, bought more books, went to the parking lot, put a Skeeter Beater on my car window and worked on the computer an hour. I then walked a sweet little "Boreal Forest" trail before continuing north to Tok where I spent the night under spruce and aspen trees in a perfect campground, also run efficiently, with the rules explained up front (although the "No Washing Pets in the Showers" rule was conveyed by several bold signs in the bathrooms). A common history with people is that someone came to Alaska to work on the pipeline and then stayed, which was the case here with the owners of this campground. Slowly, over the years, commuting seasonally between Anchorage and Tok, they developed the property into a haven for campers, getting the highest marks by the accreditation people. Everyone retires early, although I guess this only SEEMS so as it doesn't get dark.

Before settling in for the night, I went to a 7000 square foot, quite new, very nice, very spacious Visitor Center where a gentleman gave me information about going up to Chicken, Alaska, and then east over to Dawson City on the Top of the World Highway. Yes, it was a lot of gravel, and in the mountains, but "just stop when a big rig comes towards you and wait 'til it passes; don't move to the shoulders as they can be soft..." So that's my plan for tomorrow. Dawson City is on the Yukon River...in Yukon Territory in Canada. It's not Circle (farther downriver) but I won't have to retrace my driving, and the gravel portion is less (I am guessing about 75-80 miles. Each reference varies on this.)

The lady in the laundry room in Denali told me that the Tok VC is so impressive because it's the first one people driving to Alaska come upon.

Dinner was a BLT with avocado at Fast Eddy's, very busy and full of travelers. I got seated at a small table against a wall with a reading light. Nice, as I always read while eating.

aspen leaf miner infestation

Back at the campground in the tent area, my neighbors were a bicyclist in a tent to the right and a car camper guy to the left, with RVs across the road in front of me and woods behind. Everything about this place was meticulously cared for....like new wood shavings at all the tent sites, a nice gas grill for tent campers to use, clean, warm and well-lit bathrooms and showers, free WiFi (although limited to two hours with restrictions: "You can check your email and do your banking and surf the Internet...but not upload and download, watch movies, Skype...")

As I was driving around yesterday, I remembered a nonfiction book I had read several years ago titled Pilgrim's Wilderness: A True Story of Faith and Madness on the Alaska Frontier by Tom Kizzia. It takes place in what is now Wrangell-St. Elias and is a captivating story. Amazon says:

Into the Wild meets Helter Skelter in this riveting true story of a modern-day homesteading family in the deepest reaches of the Alaskan wilderness—and of the chilling secrets of its maniacal, spellbinding patriarch.

Destination Circle: Day 21

June 3, 2016

Sunshine!

I half-heartedly looked for an oil change place in the morning but ended up at Kaladi Coffee instead and then parked downtown and went to a federal building which houses the Alaska Center for Public Lands While I knew a lot of this state belongs to you and me, in fact 85% of it does: Bureau of Land Management, National Parks and Preserves, Fish and Wildlife Service (who administer the National Wildlife Refuges) and the Forest Service. 

FYI: There are 16 NWRs in Alaska totaling 76,000,000 acres! 

Entrance into this building was at least as thorough as airport security checks. I didn't have anything in my pockets and I didn't have a belt on, but my purse has some questionable items, although I passed with no questions.

I asked an employee if he knew about the “road between Chicken, Alaska, and Dawson in Yukon Territory,” and he said “No, I've never been there.” So I asked if anyone in this place knew, and he disapperaed for awhile into an inner office, came out and said, “It's gravel with caution for motorcycles.” Well, that was helpful.... I still have this Yukon River hankering going on in my mind and am beginning to formulate an alternative (to Circle) plan. 

Worthington Glacier (I think) on the way to Valdez

OK....one more coastal town to visit: Valdez...famous Valdez of earthquake and oil spill disasters. 

Alaska Dispatch News:

"Fifty years ago, North America's most powerful recorded earthquake struck Alaska. With an epicenter in Prince William Sound, the magnitude-9.2 earthquake demolished communities in the state's most populous region, created numerous killer tsunami waves, and resulted in 131 deaths, including some as far away as California. The catastrophic quake is today considered a scientific "black swan," an extremely rare, unpredictable and disastrous event. Twenty-five years later, also in Prince William Sound, came another "black swan," a disaster that officials had assured would not happen except possibly once in a century: the Exxon Valdez oil spill."

en.wikipedia.org

"In Prince William Sound, Port Valdez suffered a massive underwater landslide, resulting in the deaths of 30 people between the collapse of the Valdez city harbor and docks, and inside the ship that was docked there at the time."

There are not enough superlatives to describe the scenery on the way to Valdez. The sun was out; the mountains were incredible; rivers were running high, and there were several lovely waterfalls in Keystone Canyon just north of Valdez. 

road to Valdez

On the way, I stopped at the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park and Preserve Visitor Center, which a has separate building for exhibits and also a Native Interpretative museum. These are in a setting of  Quaking Aspen and White Spruce, utterly beautiful and peaceful. The aspens are infected (though not mortally) by an aspen leaf miner which stunts the leaf size. Their trails through the leaves are easily seen. The ranger assured me the aspens were not endangered although the infestation is slowly spreading.

Horsetail Falls just north of Valdez

On the desk was a basket of lovely wooden and very realistically painted reproductions of birds' eggs that I coveted. Someone could make these and sell them to the gift shops in all the park and refuge visitor centers. I would buy them in a flash. 

So, still stunned by the beauty I'd seen, I arrived in Valdez which is a mecca for those who love to fish. There were far fewer touristy shops...in fact, barely any, except some bars and restaurants along the harbor. I ate at Mike's Palace and had delicious salmon baked on a thin piece of cedar and a modest portion of tiramisu for dessert. A food channel was on the TV mounted on the wall. I think the proprietor was Russian and prided himself on serving above-average food. He and another dark-haired ESL gentleman were constantly overseeing the action and checking on the customers. Even the veggie side was perfectly prepared and flavored: a mix of broccoli, carrots and redskin potatoes. 

I stayed in the Eagle's Nest Campground in a tent site for $30. Everything about this place was efficient, quiet and very clean, including the bathrooms. Again, I did not set up my tent and when I woke to rain in the night, all I had to do was pull the little rear window closed and snuggle back into my cozy sleeping bag. 

Valdez Harbor

The next morning, the young guy next to me was working hard to get a fire going with his damp wood, fanning it vigorously and adding paper towels in quantity. He and his lady had slept in a tent as they were driving a small sedan. 

As I checked in, a middle-aged woman arrived at the same time and immediately requested a secluded spot, complaining that "they often stick me between two huge rigs...." She was from Arcata, California, and had a newer RoadTrek, lucky lady. These Class B campers are totally self-contained, small enough to handle easily and cost $100K or more. 

Halibut fishing derby update in Valdez

Destination Circle: Day 20

June 2, 2016

Seward, Alaska

It's difficult to judge the time in the morning: is it 7 a.m. or 3:30 a.m? I don't think it gets truly dark at night as there was always light whenever I woke. I often fall asleep again until the thud of car doors slamming means it's probably actually morning.

Today started as overcast with low clouds settling on the mountains. A perfect morning to find my new favorite coffee house, the Sea Bean, in downtown Seward. It was light and airy with delicious food and coffee, and couches and prints on the walls and books and a chess board. I ordered breakfast and coffee and used their WiFi for two hours, listening to good bluesy music and the conversations of tourists. A motorcyclist came in with a little boy who had carefully-combed long blond hair with a cowlick from a helmet he had been wearing. Judging by the interplay between the guy and the kid, I made up a story: the guy (who looked so much like Keith Richards that I looked back at him a couple of times) was a wild dad who had picked up his sweet sober small son for a paternal visit. And took him to the local coffee shop on his motorcycle. "It wasn't terribly scary was it? It was kind of fun, doncha think?" he asked the quiet child.

The skies cleared by noon when I left.

Seward Harbor with cruise ship in background

Exit Glacier near Seward, Alaska

The tourists probably came in on the cruise ship and were querying about the shuttle to "the glacier." This is Exit Glacier, about 15 miles out of town in the Kenai Fjords National Park, and accessible for those who will hike to it. Which I did. A ranger-led group was explaining things to 8 to 10 adults, and I overheard that they would be gone 1-1/2 hours. But then found out that was because there was ranger talk and dawdling along the way. The actual trail was less than a mile, but with some elevation. A lady just ahead of me, while not in deep distress, was wondering "how much longer" to another park guy who happened by. "You're almost there; you are through the hard part..." I was relieved to hear this also.

Of course Exit Glacier has receded noticeably in the last 50 years but was still impressive to see so close. The fit and hardy hike an 8.1-mile "strenuous" trail farther up the glacier edge led by a dude in very long blond dreads. All were ready for action with their hiking poles and proper clothing. Everywhere I go are Bear and Moose Warning signs and what to do in a close encounter. Like for a moose (which are "unpredictable"), one should run away and get something between you and the moose; in a imminent black bear encounter, fight back; with a grizzly encounter, use bear spray and curl into a fetal position "protecting your neck and abdomen." But with both bears, first try to just "back slowly away, arms out wide and talk quietly to the bear."

one more Glaucous-winged Gull

When I got back to the beautiful Visitor Center, I asked about birds in the area. None of the four staff who were standing around waiting and eager to give out information knew birds, but one quickly got an iPad and a bird ID app and, between us, we figured I was hearing a Wilson's Warbler. I also saw clearly a Violet-Green Swallow.  They thanked me for asking questions.

One starts to become accustomed to the breathtaking scenery. It is everywhere....

I drove back to Anchorage, stopping by Potter Marsh to photograph a cooperative Arctic Tern, and then stayed near the airport, paying too much (even through Priceline) for a room which was 1/8 mile from the front desk and looked over the tar roof of an adjacent building. I had a gyro for dinner, though, that was delicious. The waitress spoke English as ESL, as so many of the employees do in the places I've been. There are parts of Alaska where the Russian influence is very evident; perhaps the accents are Slavic. The darling girl in the Sea Bean this morning also had an accent I didn't recognize. The dining room was full of jovial, mostly middle-aged to older folk. I figure tourists generally fly to Alaska (or take a boat) and these hotels near the airport are decompression chambers the first night. Some were eating al fresco on a patio overlooking Lake Hood, which I could easily see through floor to ceiling windows. It was late afternoon and sunny and just warm enough. But the ambiance (except for the huge taxidermied specimens in the lobby) was that of any bigger city in America. In fact, what I saw of Anchorage in general, in my cursory drive-throughs, was a city like Grand Rapids or perhaps Traverse City.

Arctic Tern at Potter Marsh

The world's largest seaplane base is on Lake Hood with hundreds of small floatplanes lining the five “fingers” of canals that were dredged to accommodate them. I figure Alaska is roughly square in shape, and only the southeastern section has roads. Thus, bush pilots are an important method of transport for many natives and visitors. Some of the outer communities and cities do have roads, but they are local and do not connect with any main routes. So escape or access is by air or water, or in some places, by rail or dogsled.

print on wall in the Sea Bean in Seward, Alaska

The rivers surprised me: most are broad with braided expanses of narrow flowing streams and huge gravel bars, littered with the skeletons of uprooted trees and driftwood. The whole scene looks like one could wade across or hop from bar to bar. Do these rivers rise and run with snow melt in the spring, changing channels, scouring the river bed, leaving debris?

Destination Circle: Day 19

June 1, 2016

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Homer, Alaska - Beluga 

It was ovecast when I left my wonderful room, but not cold and not raining. After a stop for an Americano just down the street, I walked the Beluga Slough Trail, seeing a single Sandhill Crane, a few crows and sparrows, gulls flying overhead and ducks in the distance. The marsh / slough was on one side and the ocean in front of me. It was peaceful. How can proximity to the ocean not be therapeutic? Driftwood, salty air mixed with the scent of the evergreens, ice-capped mountains across the bay...

Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge - Homer, Alaska

The Visitor Center had the usual exhibits of natural history and habitats, information, conservation concerns, short movies /videos, a small gift / book shop and staff eager to help anyone with anything. I learned that one can hop on a ferry here and go as far as the Aleutian Islands, or to Kodiak, or one can rent a “water taxi” and explore the islands and ocean that way. In fact, a ranger who had been a naturalist on the Tustamena (boat to Kodiak, Dutch Harbor, Unalaska, etc., for 12 years) and now at the Visitor Center was knowledgeable about birds. He suggested I take a 2- or 4-hour trip with someone he personally recommended from a list of charters telling me that “You WILL see birds...Karl knows his birds and where to find them.” So I tried for 30 minutes to call but could not get my phone to work as a telephone. I was repeatedly prompted to “re-enter the 10 digit number ....” which I did along with changing settings, but nothing worked and I also kind of knew I wouldn't just be able to call, get on his boat, spend 2 to 4 hours and be on my way. It was already 10 a.m. I didn't want to spend all day and another night here.

So I drove back out on the Spit and watched the gulls in the harbor get especially excited about the comings and goings of the fishing boats.

Sailing in Seward Alaska

I went to Seward next. The Kenai Peninsula is a large chunk of land below Anchorage that ends in fimbriations of fjords. These land masses are jagged wild places with glaciers, mountains and no roads. The cruise ships are only allowed within a certain distance of the coast; however, the more intrepid and adventurous travelers rent water taxis, are transported into the fjords and dropped off with their kayaks and tents and backpacks. As far I as could gather, there isn't the same regulatory presence in these national lands as there is the the lower 48.

I don't remember if I mentioned the cruise ship, the Zaandam, which was docked in Skagway the morning we arrived there on the Matanuska, but this ship eventually continued on to Seward and, once in port and docked, the crew discovered a 50-foot dead fin whale wrapped around its bow. No one is certain how this happened: was the whale dead before the encounter, or did the ship hit it? the immediate problem being what to do with a decomposing whale, so it was towed onto an undisclosed beach nearby where a necropsy was performed. The newspaper said that these cruise / whale-watching ships have measures to avoid harming whales, so who knows how this happened?

Barrow's Goldeneyes - Seward, Alaska

Seward is a deep water port surrounded by mountains and glaciers. A gigantic cruise ship arrived in the night, and the small boat harbor was filled with fishing boats. When I first arrived, I drove out on a marginal road along the water, past signs warming of avalanches and falling rocks. I saw hundreds of Glaucous-winged Gulls, some Harlequin Ducks, a Black Oystercatcher, Bald Eagles. Near the end of the road were funky camping areas. I did camp but closer to town, right on the water, as did hundreds of others. The registration was automated and efficient. It was chilly and windy, and I sat in the car for two hours, catching on up on this blog, drinking a glass of wine. I tried to eat the cold leftovers of my dinner the night before (the gorgonzola mac and cheese and non-rock crab) which had now congealed into a hard unappetizing lump that really wasn't even “forkable.” So I walked for an hour which sounds virtuous, but I was only in search of food. Several downtown (about a 3-block area) had bars and restaurants with doors open to the night with the sounds of the happy relaxed people inside, but I only wanted a munchie or small snack, not a $30 minimum meal. Finally, at the harbor, on the other end of town, I got an ice-cream cone. Walking back to the campground, I saw a guy catch a huge fish, throw it on the dock and continue fishing.

The restrooms at the campground were acceptable, barely. But the view was awesome....I have seldom been out of sight of the most photogenic, classic, snow-covered mountains while in Alaska. The snow extends in ribbons down the drainages, and on the slopes, there are often large white patches surrounded by bright spring greenery.

So Seward is another town between mountains and ocean. Of course, hard-core outdoor adventurers love Alaska with its opportunities to climb, hike, bicycle, kayak, sail, fish, hunt, canoe...The homes away from the cities are not trophy homes and usually have yards full of stuff. There are often one or more additions to the original structure, greenhouses, attached or separate, un-mowed lawns, stacks of firewood, double entrances and unpaved driveways. The properties mostly look a bit messy and littered, unpretentious...

I have seen two police cars in the past two weeks. Traffic generally moves at 65 at the high end with many pull-outs and passing lanes.

Seward is the city of murals

Another camper pulled in near me, a young guy, who was also puzzled about the “rules.” One was not directed to a designated campsite and could just pick anyplace that was available. But there also were no little posts on which one could clip a registration, so I didn't know what would happen if I left with no signs that my space was occupied. I guess I could have put up my tent, but it was chilly...

I read until I got sleepy and slept perfectly well...




Amy's flowers....

Destination Circle: Day 18

May 31, 2016

I have been having weather karma with yet another clear morning of sunshine and mountains and the ocean, beginning today in the form of the Cook Inlet. My first duty was to find the Title Wave bookstore in Anchorage. Dave and Ellen have mentioned this place so many times, and I never need urging to visit a bookstore. It is similar to Powell's in Portland. Most of the books are secondhand. It's huge. I got some treasures to add to my car library. And then had a raspberry scone and coffee at Kaladi's, an Alaskan alternative to Starbucks and just as good, and bought an iced ginger molasses cookie for later.

Homer, Alaska

My destination was Homer on the Kenai Peninsula, a couple hundred miles mostly south of Anchorage. But first I lingered at a lovely marsh and boardwalk on the city limits (Potter Marsh). Gulls, terns, eagles, ducks...

The route to Homer is along the north shore of Turnagain Arm, around its eastern end and then west and south. Anchorage is at the point of land at the far end of Cook Inlet where a peninsula from the mainland juts into the water, thus splitting the Cook Inlet into the Turnagain Arm on the south and the Knik Arm on the north. So the city has ocean on three sides. One has to drive around the Turnagain and then west and south to get to Homer, into the Kenia Peninsula moving through the huge Kenai National Wildlife Refuge with the Kenai Fjords and the Harding Icefield to the south. It's takes mindfulness to concentrate on driving safely with so much natural grandeur....including the roadless wilderness across the Cook Inlet. The land settles down near Soldotna, and for the last hour, I could be driving in Michigan, although as I got closer to the ocean, it was reminiscent of the coast north of Ft. Bragg, California.  

nesting Mew Gulls in the harbor in Homer, Alaska

Homer: Hmmm....where to stay? I wandered up and down the streets checking out options, half looking to camp and half needing to tend to business requiring the Internet (like paying bills). I happened on The Pioneer Inn, a two-story home with lovely perennial gardens. I decided to try to find the rates online and happened on a serendipity...the owners were Rich and Amy who had run this place since 1991. Rich was originally from Georgia and Amy was from Grand Rapids, Michigan. As I was reading this on my iPhone, she came across the parking lot carrying potted plants and wearing gardening gloves. I talked with her and then Rich who also appeared. They had one room available just for the night at a reasonable rate, like half what most motels were asking this time of year. Check it out next time you're in Homer.

A fishing boat was on a trailer in the yard. Rich and his sons (I think they were his sons) had built this according to a photo in the room: the Miss Amy. He had been a pilot for Eastern Airlines until that company was no more. He bought this place in Homer 40+ years ago, learned construction, did commercial fishing (Homer is the halibut capital he world) and still flies around Alaska. Amy home-schooled their kids.

I loved Homer. It does have tourist kitsch but also seems grounded and not self-conscious alternate. The small hippie businesses are borderline west coast shabby but in a nice way, along with the mainstream businesses, a large fishing harbor and hundreds of Mew and Glaucous-winged Gulls. Not many other birds, although the crow I kept seeing was the Northwestern Crow, not the American Crow; therefore, another life bird! I missed (by two weeks) an annual shorebird festival. Spring migration is mostly over and the bird have flown on.

Old town - Homer, Alaska

The Visitor Center for the Maritime National Wildlife Refuge was closed for the night. I'll check that out in the morning. The few blocks of Old Town were more eclectic and funky than the rest of Homer, situated a block from the Pacific, which hereabouts is Kachemak Bay. I ate at one of Rich's recommendations, Fat Olives, and had Gorgonzola Cheese and Rock Crab Mac 'n Cheese, tasty, caloric, expensive and lacking identifiable Rock Crab. The waiter with no hesitation or apology said, "Oh, it's mixed in with the sauce..." I just laughed as the wine was fine, the music nice mix of blues and I loved being in this fairly remote little town for the night. 

on the Homer Spit

Homer also has a Spit, a five-mile sliver of land sticking southeast into the bay. One can drive to the end, or walk or bike. Along the way are dozens of small tourist shops and bars and restaurants but also dirty sand and pebbly beaches where one can camp in a tent or small RV or camper, build campfires, hang out, be loose. Just offshore, Pacific and Common Loons were diving as I drove at 5 mph over the rocks and sand. In a tiny lagoon, a dozen people were spaced out around the perimeter, fishing. If I had investigated the Spit before coming on the Pioneer, I probably would have camped there. 

My room was basic but perfectly clean with large windows overlooking the back yard. The bed was incredibly comfortable, and I've slept in a lot of good beds recently. It was huge; the sheets soft and almost silky. Two of the pillows had white pillowcases and two had pillowcases the color of blue-green sea glass.

Destination Circle: Day 17

May 30, 2016

Laundry on my mind. I've been procrastinating but also realize this is not all that necessary as I packed too many clothes. But I'll never have such a lovely place to do laundry again and headed to the “Riley Mercantile.” I had checked this out last night and expected early morning on Memorial Day would be a good time, with no waiting. Except it apparently was what others thought also. 

I met a couple from Vermont and a guy from Texas, and we chatted in the way of total strangers who will likely never meet again. The guy looked like Dennis Quaid, not quite as handsome, tall, a few pounds overweight but pleasant. He had a great smile and eyes that twinkled with good will. He was wearing a nondescript blue buttoned polyester shirt with a couple of small old stains and some baggy unremarkable pants. He was helping with this chore for his family of wife and four kids (“ages 4 to 21”) and were traveling in a large RV. They spend the winter in Austin, Texas, and then summer at a lake house in Wisconsin. They always travel together but when I asked further, he said how their trips were “mostly pilgrimages...like to Rome, the Holy Land, Lourdes....” Once he told me that he and his wife had been on “that island” (meaning Mackinaw when I said I lived in Michigan) for a wedding anniversary, the first time away from the kids in 20 years, and “we were sittin' on the porch and I looked at her and said, 'You miss the kids don't you? You wanna go home?'” They both agreed and so he “called the pilot" and they left within the hour. His wife home-schools the kids. They live on an old hunting ranch in Texas. That's all I got...He was not in the least bit pretentious, surely didn't look or act as a person with means, but he must have them. Means...

the Alfred Hitchcock Mew Gulls at Savage Creek in Denali

The couple were in their 60s, and were pulling a “three-season camper” behind a new Subaru station wagon. The wife was an alpha talker, a type A all the way. The first thing I heard from her was how the washing machine's “Start button needs to be pushed hard because it said 25 and I thought it meant another quarter, but it meant 25 minutes, but I had already put my quarter in, so they gave me back 25 cents....” The husband was a gentle soul who tried to help but didn't always get it right according to his wife. He had had major heart surgery last year but is now fit enough so they hiked nine miles yesterday. “She's my coach,” he said nodding to his wife. She told me all about good campgrounds, about campgrounds where they have "little shampoo bottles like motels," campgrounds that have hair dryers. When she asked about what to see in Michigan should they ever vacation there, she got out a little spiral notebook and very earnestly took notes on my random suggestions. She looked at me rather quizzically like I was a curiosity, traveling on my own. She wondered how I get my mail. She told me where to stay in Valdez and that “you have to go there and stay at the Eagle's Nest campground.” She goes to every Visitor Center along the way, because “they are free,” but she also likes museums, and on and on. She and her husband had a few snappish moments between them, and she also admonished the Texas guy when she noticed he put more than a quarter cup of laundry detergent in the little holder. He just smiled and responded by saying how he was noticing her meticulous folding of clean laundry and that precipitated several sentences on why she washes everything inside out and why she folds the way she does, etc., etc. But hey, they are out doing it...enjoying life, delighted they now qualify for the extraordinary good deal of a Golden Age Pass. 

Just outside, at a picnic table, a man was working on a laptop plugged into an external outlet. The adjacent little store had good coffee and three young dudes working. All these kids like Emily must line up for the chance to work in our grand national parks.

Alaskan sled dogs in Denali NP

It was such a glorious day. I missed the shuttle to the sled dog presentation so drove 3.5 miles up the road and lucked out finding a parking place. The park uses Alaskan sled dogs, both to entertain and instruct visitors in the summer but also as working dogs, since there are no motorized vehicles in the park in the winter (or so they say). There were 30 to 40 beautiful dogs, each on a short chain with her/her name on his/her dog house. Most were somnolent until it was time to run them around a track behind a dog sled, when, as the trainers walked towards them, the energy changed dramatically, as in lunging, barking, howling, jumping, straining on their chains. The dogs, of course, have no idea whose turn it will be today so all are eager and hopeful. A fortunate five were chosen, and there was one short run around a small track but it was impressive. They do this show three times a day all summer. Ranger Jake then talked for 30 minutes about the dogs and what they do in Denali. 

I drove up the park road as far as allowed in my car and hiked a very short distance along the Savage River. Mew Gulls are abundant all over southeastern Alaska and they were mobbing a woman on a gravel bar in the river who was running away, hunched over and flailing with her hands about her head. Yesterday, Wendy, our shuttle driver, called them “crabby birds.” She would revert to baby-talk a few times when referring to animal behavior.

Habitat quilt in the Murie Center for Learning and Science in Denali NP 

I stopped by the Murie Science and Learning Center with more exhibits and interactive videos, but the most amazing object was a gigantic quilt done by a group of women in Healy, a town just up the road. It was Denali National Park done in the pixelated squares of a habitat map, at least 20 different zones. And, surrounding the map and acting as a border, were individual squares, representing all of the habitats and done in free form by each of the women who worked on the quilt. It filled the whole wall behind the front desk.

Before I left the park for good, I sat in the parking lot under aspens and had a sandwich. It was weird as it felt exactly like a quintessial Indian summer day in Michigan, so much so that I didn't resist the notion and reveled in the autumn sun and warmth while the leaves fluttered in the breeze. It must be the Alaskan quality of light, the position of the sun and cool temperatures...whatever, it was delightful. Autumn in the Spring. I had also felt this season confusion yesterday while on the bus.

Many tourists are foreigners...northern Europeans, East Indians and Japanese. I saw no African-Americans or Hispanics.

Denali NP very close to the Visitor Center

I forgot to mention that yesterday, we immediately saw a mother moose and calf actually meandering through the Visitor Center parking area. And that I saw a pair of Harlequin ducks in one of the streams we passed. Harlequins rival Wood Ducks in beauty.

Off to Anchorage, 250 miles south, with spectacular views of Denali intermittently along the way. Occasionally, I would see signs of "Road Work from 9 p.m. to 6 a.m. and finally (duh...) realized that of course...since it stays light nearly all night.

I knew from experience that I can usually get a good deal at high-end hotels early in the week. I did exactly that and stayed in a Sheraton overlooking the city. It was still twilight at midnight when I finally went to bed.  

south to Anchorage

Destination Circle: Day 16

May 29, 2016

Denali National Park and Preserve, formerly McKinley National Park, is 6,000,000 acres, mostly designated Wilderness, meaning very little man-made alteration is allowed. It truly is a gift to all of us; it's yours and mine to visit but it's home to the animals.

Here's the deal: There is one main park road which is 92 miles and ends at Kantishna where gold was found which was the original impetus for white men to enter what is now Denali, but this incredibly beautiful land also drew others:

www.kantishnaroadhouse.com

"The spring of 1906 brings a remarkable individual to the region, Charles Sheldon. A retired businessman and self trained naturalist, Sheldon comes to the region primarily to study northern sheep (Dall). Well traveled and Yale-educated, he immediately recognizes the uniqueness of the place with the spectacular mountain scenery, Mount McKinley (Denali) the tallest mountain in North America, and the opportunity to see wildlife in such a majestic setting. After a summer exploration with Harry Karstens, another of the Denali greats, he decides to return the following spring. By August of 1907 Sheldon had established his camp along the Toklat river, building a cabin and spending the winter collecting specimens for the Biologic Survey. Noticing the hunting practices of market hunters coming into the area, he realizes that if the animal populations were not protected they would be extripated, hunted out. So begins a colossal fight to protect the animal populations and in turn results in the creation (February 1917) of what eventually becomes Denali National Park and Preserve. A crown jewel in the national park system. Charles Sheldon is considered the founding father and guiding spirit of Denali. He laid out the original park boundary and in his diary on January 12, 1908, presumably in his cabin on the Toklat river, coined the name Denali National Park. Harry Karstens, at the suggestion of Sheldon, became the first park superintendent, and is considered to have set the standard for administration along with being a grand adventurer in his own right, having led a party, the first, to the top of  Denali (June 7,1913).

The park however was not immediately available to the general public, in fact it was something of a back water. Even with the completion of the Alaska Railroad in 1923 access to the interior of the park was limited because of the rugged terrain and lack of funding coming from the Department of the Interior to develop an access road. It wasn’t until 1938 after 15 seasons of toil that a road snakes through to the Kantishna district.

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Most vehicles are not allowed past the the 15-mile mark, but bus tours/shuttles run all day from May through September, either a talking tour or (in theory) a silent shuttle. The drivers either tell passengers all about the park (tours) or just drives the bus (shuttles). And one can choose a long or short tour/shuttle. I opted for the long talking tour but it was filled up so reserved a spot on a 6-hour "silent" bus which went as far Toklat River at mile 54. I had to be at the WAC (Wilderness Access Center) at 0730. These less expensive shuttles leave all day at half-hour intervals. Whenever and wherever someone wants to get off to hike around or camp in the backcountry, they just hop off anywhere along the road. If one wants back on a bus, he/she just stands by the road-side and holds up a thumb. The tours are more expensive than the shuttles. The prices range from $150 to $50 per person.

People are pretty much allowed anywhere in Denali as long as they sign up, watch a backcountry safety video, learn how to leave no trace, learn about grizzlies and moose dangers, have the required gear, etc. There are trails to follow or hikers can bushwhack.

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I also made a reservation at the only campground with space available. One can drive a vehicle to the Teklanika camping area well up into the park but must stay a minimum of three days. From a base there, campers just walk out to the main park road and wait for buses to take them wherever they wish.

Denali National Park

I was very lucky with the weather. Everyone, of course, wants to "see the mountain" and only 30% do as clouds obscure it most days. It was another perfect day weather-wise.

We hopped on a new green bus and the driver (Wendy) was wonderful. She came to Alaska 30+ years ago when her Dad worked on the pipeline. I figured she was now in her 50s. In the winter she drives a school bus in Anchorage. She talked the whole way, which was fine as she was funny, helped spot animals (one grizzly, several Dall sheep, moose and caribou) and knew just enough of the geology, flora, and the history of Denali to be interesting. She wasn't required to talk as this wasn't an official informative tour, but she loved doing it. The road was gravel much of the way, a bit precipitous in a few places ("don't look down or move to the other side of the bus if this bothers you") with several pullouts. I had to laugh: on the way back, half the passengers were sleeping or dozing....like this was a tiring experience. We picked up and dropped off people several times.  Most were serious dedicated backpackers with their huge loads, girls and guys, fit, healthy, attractive, adventurous.

Riley Creek Campground in Denali National Park

And there are the mountain climbers. As of yesterday, of the 457 people on the mountain, one of them died, a 45-year-old Czech man who "tumbled roughly 1500 feet" which was "witnessed by multiple parties at the 14,200-foot base camp." They reached him within 10 minutes, but he died of multiple trauma. Less than 20% of those who have tried summiting this year have succeeded. (Alaska Dispatch News).

By mid afternoon, we were back and I drove through the campground, picking out a good spot. The young man who registered me warned about moose who wander the campground and who "are calving this time of year. We had to send several people to the hospital last year. If you are charged, just get something between you and the moose and zig-zag." There were absolutely no insects, no moose; the sun was out, the camp sites were all tucked in the spruces. I got a few supplies for dinner and settled in, half reading and half watching the quiet comings and goings of those near me.

As the evening with its forever light progressed, most folks sat quietly around campfires. I debated whether to set up my tent and then did not, due to inertia and the totally comfortable cot in my van. I have a great sleeping bag and slept soundly all night, waking at 0600 and then going back to sleep until 0730. I was warm but reluctant to get out of my sleeping bag as the temperature was in the low 40s. But there was laundry to do....