Wandering Amerrickans

Aug 19- Finally!

Morning weather report… guess what? Skies were clearing!!! There was no rain (I bet you didn’t think I was gonna say that)!

Our morning was a bit chaotic. Even though I had said out loud to my crew last night that our activity was to be from 9-3 today, none of us paid attention; I said we needed to leave at the same time as yesterday’s plan for a 9:30 meeting. It wasn’t until 8:15 that I reread the email that said the activity was from 9-3 and that they would meet us at 8:30! SH@T!!! That was in 12 minutes and we weren’t dressed etc, and we had a solid 10 minute drive to the parking lot… Needless to say our morning started off a bit stressful!

The driver, Zach, was very patiently waiting, as was the rest of the van full of people. I made our apologies and off we went 4 plus miles north of McCarthy to Kennecott to get fitted for crampons for our hike today on Root Glacier.

Kennecott Mines National Historical Monument is super super cool. It is operated by the National Park Service and is located in Wrangell St Elias National Park. It started off in 1900 after the discovery of copper ore. At its height there were 76 buildings, many of which are still standing. There is one hotel there and a few guide operators as it is the jumping off point for many of the backcountry excursions and day treks.

Our group today consisted of the three of us, Dale and Claire, a couple in their 60s from Cincinnati and Jan, a 68 year old Belgian guy who recently underwent quadruple bypass surgery.

We set out on foot from the center of Kennecott, immediately passing the historic mine buildings. All the buildings are in a varying state of existence- some completely preserved, some in stabilization preservation, some succumbing to the harsh Alaskan elements.

After exiting the historic sight, we were immediately struck by the vast moraine field – the same one we kayaked next to yesterday, but today we had gained elevation and could actually see just how immense it is. The scene was surreal, like an exaggerated 3-d drawing – like nothing we have ever seen before.

The hike to the edge of the glacier alone was beyond spectacular. The views were stunning, and we were all so excited to finally see some of the mountain peaks surrounding us. The trail tracked along the edge of the valley until it took a turn and headed out towards the glacier, zigzagging down the debris field left on the sides (lateral moraine).

The trail was 2.4 miles down to where we donned our crampons to start the trek across the glacier. We have trekked on a glacier one other time, in Patagonia, so at least we were familiar with walking with crampons on – walk like a cowboy with your feet further apart than normal, shorten your stride, and always point your toes uphill or downhill – no sidestepping.

Root Glacier is enormous – full of crevasses, moulins and blue pools. The glacier undulates reminding one of endless sand dunes. Parts of it are covered in a thin layer of fine rocks and are parts are white or blue. There are streams running over the top, the perfect place to refill your water bottle and I can assure you, there is nothing as delicious as fresh glacier water!

Zach did a great job leading us up and over the glacier. There were a few challenging sections that Billy later said he almost opted out of but after the other folks made it, he did it. Frankly, I was beyond impressed with all of their athletic capabilities.

All told, we trekked about 1.5 mile on the glacier itself, spending about 2.5 hours out there. We all agreed the experience here far exceeded our experience in Patagonia. Here, we were able to walk relatively freely, not following the leader in a single file; it was just our group out there the majority of the time versus group after group; and the surrounding scenery was more spectacular here. All in all, a fabulous day, and the weather finally cooperated!

On our return trip we were free to ascend to the rim trail at our own pace. Billy and Jenny led the charge while I followed closely behind taking pictures. At one point, I looked down the switchbacks to see the rest of the group stopped and Jan checking his heat rate via his neck pulse. I offered to come down and take his pack, even though I was wearing one myself, but he said no. When I caught up to Billy and Jenny and relayed what had happened, Jenny, who was not carrying a pack, headed back down the trail to offer the same as me but Jan wouldn’t let her carry it for him either. I tell you what, our group members were impressive. They trudged on right behind us, bad knees, surgically repaired arteries and all!

We grabbed lunch at the same spot as yesterday and it was even better, or maybe we had worked up an appetite but whatever the case we certainly enjoyed it again.

By the time we started for the pedestrian bridge, the skies had cleared even more and we could make out the tops of a few peaks we hadn’t seen earlier. We beelined to the bridge, the best vantage point, and we’re thrilled to see almost the entire Root Glacier and a good part of its mountain peak staring back at us.

Back in the cabin, Jenny and I were sitting in the living room, while Billy took a little nap, when we both quickly looked up at each other. “You feel that?” I asked her. She nodded yes. “Earthquake,” I said. “No way,” she replied, “maybe someone just hit the cabin.” I laughed, “There is nobody out here!” Nope, definitely an earthquake. Google confirmed it about 20 minutes later – a 4.1 ( small by earthquake standards).

As the evening progressed and the skies cleared more, Jenny and I drove back down to the bridge to see if the last peaks above the glacier had cleared. They hadn’t but the peaks of all the other surrounding mountain ranges had. We kept stopping the car to look out at the sheer beauty we saw. We have traveled to a lot of places in the world but never ever have I seen anything like Alaska; and now that the full scope of just this one area has come to light, we want to see more. I

told Jenny we might just have to come back to Alaska. She turned to me and said, “Oh.. I’m coming back.” “When?” I asked. “I don’t know exactly,” she pondered “but I’ll be back.”

August 18 – Weather Be Damned

Morning weather report… exactly the same…

One of Jenny’s requests for our trip to Alaska was to get remote – easily done in Alaska if you are happy to hop in a bush plane; not so easily done if you avoid them like the plague. So, since we all know I fall into the latter category I got us remote on our trip to McCarthy. On the two hour ride in we passed only a few other cars. So the best way to experience the remoteness was to get out and experience being here.

After coffee and cereal we hustled out to meet our guide for the day’s adventure. Today we would be doing a 1/2 day tandem kayak with St Elias Guides, on a glacial lake fed by the Kennicott Glacier. We drove the last three miles to the end of the road where we parked and walked across the footbridge, the only real way for tourists to get into town. Years ago you had to pull yourself across in a handcart but the bridge is certainly a bit better!

Our guide Clint got us outfitted in a neoprene layer, over which we could use our own expedition clothing. Billy had forgotten to bring his rain pants but Jenny and I had ours. He also gave us rubber boots and gloves to wear- none of which were remotely warm!

We did a small hike up to the lake where there were two inflatable tandem kayaks waiting. We warned Clint about Jenny’s canoeing history at 2 for 2 with flipping; he said there are four rules for kayaking, rules 1,2 and 4 are – don’t flip the canoe. Rule 3 is have fun. I told him we are rule followers and as such Jenny had every intention to not flip the kayak. I then volunteered to tandem with him!

The kayaks were a bit tricky to maneuver as they tend to want to go in circles. Jenny and Billy did a great job with theirs, considering it was a new experience. We crossed the lake, steering clear of where it empties to become the raging Kennicott River and kayaked along the terminal moraine of Kennicott Glacier. The glacier starts on top of Alaska’s 5th highest mountain peak, Mount Blackburn, some 16,390 feet up, and has its terminus just about at the town of McCarthy.

As we kayaked along, debris was falling down along the ice and into the lake. As we looked 60’ up the glacial wall, we hoped the monstrous glacial erratics didn’t come loose and tumble down – those would certainly create a small tsunami! We have seen glaciers before in Patagonia and watched the ice valve but we had never seen the process of glaciation at work. The crazy thing is we were really kayaking on the glacier as the melt waters filled in a low spot on the terminal moraine, creating a lake, so the glacier was under us. It was so cool;

The whole experience was otherworldly but it was quite cold and somehow, Billy was drenched in his boots and under his borrowed rain pants – a not too comfortable situation. So, we called it quits a bit early and headed for lunch at Potato, one of only a few places to get food in McCarthy.

The place was great, with a huge beer selection and amazing food. We really enjoyed this local filled joint as we tried to dry out. McCarthy has a year round population of 28 people (and I thought Greer was small); but it swells to a few hundred in the summer. We chatted with a girl who had just graduated from William & Mary and came to live in and work in McCarthy for summer – her first time in Alaska. It is a really neat place – lots of history, a totally chill vibe, majestic scenery, and a real sense of community. Both Jenny and I said we could easily do it for a summer; Billy said, “No way.”

After lunch, we walked around town, taking photos and loving all the character there is here. The rain stopped briefly and for a split second, we could see our shadows. We stopped into the historical museum and marveled at the hardy pioneers and how they managed to survive out here.

The running theme of our trip seems to be…”just imagine what it would look like with blue skies…” Today was certainly one of those days but thankfully the weather didn’t completely wreck it-the drizzly, foggy, chilly weather actually added to the mystique of it all!

Following a bit of exploring, hot showers and dry clothes sounded appealing. We drove back to the cabin and hung out for a bit. Jenny wanted to go back to town to the saloon and listen to the live music that was posted on flyers in town and was on the calendar for this evening. We obliged her and forwent our planned dinner in to check out something local.

On our drive back in, I spotted a creature running across the road. It took me a few seconds but I realized it was a lynx! Such a cool spy – they look like they have a cat’s head on a small bear’s body.

Seeing as it is a small town, the crowd was minimal but the guy was good. Dinner was acceptable but we were able to sit outside, the beer was cold and the company (for Billy especially) was good – so that made up for it

A few correction points: Wrangell St Elias National Park is also a Preserve and it is over 13,000,000 acres. There is one other road access point all the way in the north

August 17 – Detouring

We made it through the night – With Jenny and I snuggled tightly together in a twin bed, window open all night and brave Billy taking the room the mouse ran out of!

Morning weather report- Windy, very cold, clouds blocking everything but not raining (there is the plus side). Coming in last night, we had the faintest, faintest outline of the mountains with their snow-covered caps and oh how marvelous they looked. This morning- nothing!

We made a few pit stops as we headed south – gas, grocery store, coffee, etc. We had no plans but to make our way across the Edgarton Highway (aka the MCarthy Road) to stay for the next three nights to spend time in Wrangell- St Elias National Park, the largest of the parks in our NPS at 12,000,000 plus acres (twice the size of Denali).

We had talked to one of the owners at the lodge we stayed at last night about maybe driving to Valdez before heading to McCarthy. She emphatically said, “Go to Valdez.” I told her that I had read it is the most beautiful drive in all of Alaska, and that I had read that it in multiple places. She told me that that is so and again said, we should go to Valdez, even if the clouds are low.

Continuing south, we pulled into the park headquarters and saw something we have never seen at one before- a totally empty parking lot save for one car. We got out to at least take a look at some displays as we assumed the visitor center was closed but there behind a window was a park ranger. How crazy is that? One of our national parks at 11:00 AM and the parking lot was empty. All three times we had to park at Denali, there were only a handful of spots available. We chatted with the ranger a bit and then asked him about Valdez. He also said we should go to Valdez, so what did we do? we decided to drive to Valdez – a mere 90 mile detour (each way as it was a turnaround detour).

Again, this is the way we roll, changing plans on a whim, driving where our interests take us and never hesitating to take a detour if there is something we enjoy on the other side (In January we made a last-minute 500 mile detour to Houston to see some friend). So in the grand scheme of things, a 90 mile detour to see Alaska’s most beautiful drive was a no brainer.

The low lying clouds held on for about half the way, to the point we did quickly discuss just turning around – not much sense detouring to see the most beautiful drive if we couldn’t see much but we held our course. There were intermittent breaks in visibility and the rain which had also started, at one point we were in some pretty thick fog but as we descended from Thomson Pass, the rain stopped, clouds were breaking and the sun was trying its hardest but visibility above 1,000 feet or so was almost nonexistent.

Ok, so the drive. I am sure you are curious as to whether or not it was worth it. The answer, a resounding definitely! It was spectacular! Prior to the Thompson Pass we were getting scenes of Ireland and Iceland, after the pass it was like Hawaii with hundreds of waterfalls pouring down out of the soaring cliffs. Truly breathtaking scenery!

We headed for lunch, since we never had breakfast, after which we made a run to the brewpub (something we have done in almost every town to get some local beers to go). Jenny then suggested we go check out the salmon hatchery to see if we could spot seal lions or otters.

We drove around the head of Port Valdez to the east side where Solomon Gulch Hatchery is located. Holy Cow, we were blown away by the scene we watched unfolding in front of our eyes – thousands upon thousands upon thousands of salmon were either struggling to make their way upstream, stuck in side inlets of the river and slowly dying or were already lying dead being feasted on by thousands upon thousands of seagulls. Honestly, probably the wildest natural phenomena I have ever witnessed – totally surreal!

We couldn’t help but sit and watch and listen (the shrieking of the gulls was insane), for quite some time. The chaos and madness of it all was somehow, a bit addicting.

Once we were finally able to pull ourselves away from the macabre scene, we began our return trip north. The weather had lifted in some parts and even the tops of the mountains were clear- a sight we haven’t seen in more than a week. But, that was not to last long.

While we were in Valdez, I had called our hosts for the upcoming three nights, and they said it had been raining since last night and was forecasted to continue for the next week… great. With that news, we were all even happier we had gone to Valdez because at least it wasn’t raining and we had some views, if not limited.

Scenes from around Valdez:

Our drive along the Edgarton from the Richardson was pretty uneventful but interesting in the fact that it was the first time in all the miles we have been that we saw any farming- in this case cows.

The end of the Edgarton brought us to the beginning of the 60 mile McCarthy Road, the only road into Wrangell-St Elias. Again, most rental car companies do not allow travel on this road, keeping most tourists out. Actually the sign at the beginning of the road is an additional deterrent to a lot of tourists I imagine; we cracked up and kept on driving.

The drive in was not a particularly stunning one. Now maybe if it wasn’t pouring, and we could see something above the tree tops it would be but again, we saw nothing. It took us two hours to travel the 60 mile, pothole rutted, washboard of a road, arriving at our cabin at 8:00.

Scenes from our drive:

The cabin was very nice with a great big wrap around deck overlooking what we assume is a beautiful vista in the distance. Jenny whipped up some scrumptious tacos for dinner and we all hit the hay hard!

August 16- Solitude

This morning’s weather was as bad as yesterday plus a whole lot of wind to go with it. Back in April, I scored a lottery pass to Denali to be able to drive our car the extra 15 miles into the park that is normally not open to the public, but seeing as the weather was even worse and there was no hope to see the mountain, we decided to blow it off.

We had a full day in front of us anyhow so the extra time would come in handy. We made a quick stop for some sweets, then on to a place that was recommended by George to grab sandwiches to eat in the car- all was delicious!

Our drive today was across the 130 mile Denali Highway, with the first 110 miles being dirt. This is a road that is off limits to most rental cars unless, like us, you rent from a local dealer that allows it. It was the beginning of hunting season and we had been warned that there would be a lot of local traffic but there was nary a car the whole way.

The good news is the rain stopped but the low clouds never fully lifted. What we could see of the scenery was beyond magnificent; it truly is incredible to have mountains completely surrounding you but to have it that way nor 100 plus miles at the least!

We stopped at one point to let Billy fish one of the picture perfect streams that flowed through the vast tundra. Within a bit less than an hour, he caught three large graylings.

The entire 130 mile crossing took us almost six hours, with stops, including the second highest mountain pass in Alaska at 4,086’; it was very nice for me as Jenny drove almost the entire way.

(Scenes from along the highway):

After exiting the Denali Highway, we got caught up in some of the most massive highway construction projects I have ever seen. The Richardson Highway that runs north to south on the east side of Anchorage was quite incredible. As far as we could see, there were pine forests. And for the first time, we saw the Trans- Atlantic pipeline which runs 800 miles from Prudhoe Bay on the Arctic Ocean- a wild scene to see this massive oil pipeline snaking through the forests.

When I was trying to make hotel reservations for this night, there was a lot that went into the consideration. There were very few options available that were within reason as far as time, distance and covid requirements. Most of the places I tried were closed for this year, so I ended up booking at a historic lodge that actually got fairly decent reviews, but I warned Billy and Jenny that I was quite nervous for the stay.

We checked in at the bar where we met the owners and grabbed a basic meal. The owners couldn’t have been nicer and we really enjoyed talking with them. He was an Army officer stationed here before they bought the lodge. The place is now for sale as they are planning on moving back to the Fort Worth Area.

When we got to our cabin, it was certainly a throwback to at least the 1950s.

All was good, we could deal with the spiders, the lack of an operating smoke detector and the generally more-than-well-worn feeling but it all came to an abrupt halt for me when a mouse ran across my path- an Alaskan size mouse. Anyone who knows me knows, I don’t do rodents- they carry a million diseases; Billy always jokes we should invest in the expanding foam spray company because I am constantly filling gaps to try and stop them from entering my homes.

Well sh@t… 11:00 at night – in the middle of nowhere… no choice but to suck it up. I hope dawn comes soon because come first light, we are out of here!

August 15 – Grizzly Highway

Keeping with the theme of a morning weather report… Today was one of the worst. We received a weather alert for 1-2” of rain including threats of mudslides and landslides. Not a good start.

Our plans for the day were already locked in at a solid eight hours. We had 10:00 tickets to ride the bus into Denali National Park; the only way in and out, outside of a bush plane or a pack raft. The ride is done in an old converted school bus making a few stops along the dirt road for a bathroom break if need be but there was nothing else available ie, water, food, etc.

The skies were spitting at 10:00 however the cloud layer allowed for some vistas and while we couldn’t see any peaks, we could see that the mountains had received their first dusting of snow overnight. The temperature this morning was a balmy 43 degrees, not what we had expected but at least we were prepared for it. Last week it was 85 degrees.

Our bus driver, Dale, has been driving for 27 years. He was a bit gruff but there was some humor thrown in; he did however take covid precautions very seriously and was on top of any mask slackers. He made the rules clear and simple – keep your hands and heads inside the bus at all times, if we come across an animal we need to stay quiet and bear spray and guns need to be inside your packs.

The initial 30 plus miles was uneventful but everything changed soon thereafter. The cloud layers lifted allowing us to see across the valleys, the rain stopped and there was sunshine lighting up the distant hills and mountains.

The first animals we encountered was a small herd of caribou. These caribou had HUGE racks, really incredible in fact. Caribou are cool in that both the male and female have antlers, the only member of the deer family that do, but the females antlers are generally smaller and more irregular. Based on that, these caribou were clearly male!

The next big moment we had was at an area called Polychrome Pass. This is an area of the park that is both scenically beautiful but also geologically impressive. It is an area of massive rockslides that frequently causes problems for engineers. Today, there was some heavy machinery up there trying to stabilize a section of the road that is only wide enough for one bus (yes. I kid you not. And the busses don’t use any radio to communicate so if you come around a corner and meet another bus… trust me… it’s more than scary). The road is sliding down the mountain- in 2018 alone it dropped 12 feet over the course of the year due to shrinking permafrost. Just a few weeks ago the road was shut for hours as the road slumped, stranding busses for hours on both sides.

The colors and vistas at Polychrome Pass are amazing but again, it was all very limited in its scope. I could however easily see the valley floor below over the road edge that was maybe 2 feet from the bus- I can assure you I did some controlled breathing to get through it. Holy cow, this road made the road up to Machu Picchu look like a walk in the park. I am absolutely amazed this is a road in America.

Denali National Park’s vastness was certainly made evident as we drove on. It is the third largest national park at roughly 6,000,000 acres (about the size of New Hampshire).

Our first bear encounter happened maybe 2 1/2 hours in. A large grizzly foraging on blueberries a few hundred yards off the road. We stopped to watch it for quite some time; Dale having to remind the group in the back to stay quiet and keep their hands in the window. Jenny was thrilled, even if it was a bit far away. Crazy thing was recognizing how big these bears are but how tiny it was sitting there in the immensity of Denali NP.

The last stop and turn around was Eileson Visitor Center, closed still from covid. This is where you should get an incredible view of Denali Mountain but by now it was raining and getting foggy. What we did see which was pretty cool was Muldrow Glacier now in an historic surge which began last year; it is currently moving between 30-60 feet per day! We could make out the glacier and the new surge of broken and blackened ice chunks.

By the time the bus left it was raining pretty good and the windows were mud coated reducing visibility to near zero. I was so bummed that all of the incredible views and the one thing Jenny had asked to do in Alaska, to see Denali, wasn’t to be. All this glorious wilderness was only partially available to the eye – very frustrating but that’s nature and that’s Alaska. Jenny did point out we had seen a bear and that had made her happy.

Dale had narrated the whole ride up but had said he wouldn’t be doing so on the return. He said sometimes taking in nature in silence is much better so we looked forward to doing just that; however the family group in the back had no intentions of it. They talked and talked and talked – loudly. Billy and Jenny put their ear buds in while the woman sitting g across the aisle from me rolled her eyes.

As we summited a hill we found two busses stopped; they were looking at bears. We pulled up but couldn’t see them as we were blocked in by the other busses. Dale patiently waited and waited while everyone grew a bit frustrated until the busses left giving us a perfect view of a mama and her two year old cub foraging for blueberries. They were much closer than the other bear and as we sat and watched (with Dale constantly having to tell the group in the back to quiet down and not put their hands out the window), we were thrilled! The bears continued to move closer and closer and just about this time I heard something hit the ground outside the bus. I turned back to hear this guy (the one guy who has needed constant reminders) say he had dropped his phone outside the window. I couldn’t help but crack up, and then tell Jenny who also began to crack up followed by Billy. The bears were literally maybe 20 feet off the front of the bus – we were in row 2 with row 1 being blocked off so we had a perfect view!

At this point, the guy in the back had to make the walk of shame up to tell Dale his phone was laying on the ground. It was all very comical as there were two grizzlies right there ( not to mention a mama with her cub- a no go) so did he think Dale was going to open the bus doors and say sure, go get it?

We continued to watch the bears until they crossed right in front of us and then quickly disappeared over a ridge on the other side. Wow! Wow! Wow! It was beyond amazing and we were beyond ecstatic. It certainly made up for the incredibly crappy weather we have had!

I was glad to see that the road at Polychrome Pass was still intact and prayed it remained that way while we crossed back over – at only twenty feet wide with a sheer 500 foot drop off, hairpin turns in driving rain I hung my head low, breathed hard and received a consoling pat from Jenny.

One last stop and I got out to clean the windows so we could see better. Jenny joined me as we wiped and wiped. Dale came around the bus with a squeegee to help out and turned to me and said, “I hope you don’t find this offensive or strange but your daughter is stunningly beautiful. I hope you don’t mind me saying so. My mother always told me to tell it like I see it, so I just did.” I, of course, told him no offense at all and told him she is just as stunningly beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside.

The clean windows only lasted for maybe a mile and the remainder of the two hours felt like a suicide mission with the family constantly talking, at one point the mother asking her children if they wanted to play 20 questions- both myself and the lady next to me verbally said, “Oh God. No.” She went on to suggest they should play “the quiet game.” She turned to me and said, “This is what happens when kids are hooked on electronics; they need constant entertainment when there are none available.”

In the end, the eight hours was worth it. I had concerns Jenny and I would get horribly motion sick but we were OK. The views we did see were incredible and the bears were fantastic. Jenny said she would just have to come back – to finish a hike and to see Denali.

We Survived the Train Wreck

Morning dawned with heavily cloudy skies again. We were in a bit of a rush to start our way north as we had to drop Billy off for the second day of fishing I had lined up for him and it was 130 miles north. We preordered breakfast from Conscious Coffee and made our way out of town.

The clouds were heavy as we traveled north but we could see that there were a few breaks happening. We commented that had we been traveling in this proximity to Yellowstone, the traffic would be unbearable but we had barely any company on the roads.

We made one stop, at the Denali Scenic View North, and sure enough, we saw the peak of the mighty mountain again! It was crazy that within a few minutes it disappeared again. Yesterday, Billy’s fishing guide told him he might see the mountain twice a month. I have read statistically that you only have a 20% chance of actually seeing the mountain – seeing as we have seen one of the peaks twice (there is a north and south but I don’t know which one we have been seeing), I think we are doing pretty good!

We met up with Billy’s guide, George – a science teacher that spends the school year in way upstate NY, and his summers guiding in Alaska. We wished them luck, and Jenny and I continued our trek north for our scheduled afternoon whitewater rafting.

About 15 miles into our 30 mile drive, it started to pour, and I mean pour. We watched as the outside temperature gauge dropped from 54 to 44. The wind picked up and as we reached our destination we were trying to reassure ourselves that not only could we handle the cold but we could handle the class IV rapids we were about to undertake (mind you we have only run class II up until this point).

We grabbed some flatbread pizza for lunch, eating it in the car as the restaurant only offered to go, while Jenny chatted with Thies on Facetime. We were laughing with him that Jenny is 0 for 2 in staying in a canoe so we were hoping that was not going to carry over to the raft!

We were going to be rafting the Nenana River, a glacial river that forms from the Nenana Glacier. It runs north, dumping into the Tanana River which runs into the Yukon River, eventually ending up in the Arctic Ocean. It averages a summer temperature of 31.8 degrees – hypothermic inducing in minutes.

Jenny and I were layered well- two pairs of wool socks, leggings under rain pants, moisture wicking base layer followed by three Patagonia layers- capilene, down, and a waterproof shell. We also had on beanie caps and wind blocking Patagonia gloves. We were perfectly toasty inside our dry suits! We watched as people showed up in cotton socks, sweatpants and sweatshirts (there was no wonder they were freezing half way through the float).

We took a quick drive to the input – an absolutely incredible sight to watch as they dropped the boats a few hundred feet down a cliff, our oarsman actually walking them down an almost 90 degree incline!

We received the requisite safety speech and I of course was having second thoughts, especially after the part about making sure if you fall out to get your feet up quickly so they don’t get wedged under the water on anything, but my steady eddie assured me it would all be fine.

Whitewater is graded on an internationally recognized scale by the American Whitewater Association. Rapids are classified on a scale of I-VI; I being very very tame and VI being holy sh@t; commercial operators can only run up to class V – we were going to be hitting a few class IVs – no big deal, right?

We hit the river running and after a few, “Forwards!” was hollered at us paddlers, we were informed that, “our first rapid would be coming up.” Uhm… what the heck were those pretty darn sizable dips we just went through? The ones he was yelling at us to paddle through and that absolutely doused us, I asked. “Those,” he told me, “were just the warm up.” Oh geezus, you must be kidding me.

Jenny turned and said, “Oh boy, the guide in the boat behind us just put on his helmet.” That was the forewarnings what was to come.

We rounded the bend and head first we went into a pretty substantial rapid. The bow paddlers went down hard and then came up and we were all drenched. And so it went – paddle hard, bow down, wave up, paddlers drenched.

Eventually we hit a rapid named Train Wreck that was a bit different. A series of waves that got progressively bigger. At one point I was staring up at a wall of water, we were nearly vertical and I realized I was frantically paddling the air as my oar wasn’t reaching the water. “Oh God. Please! Stay in the boat,” I hollered over to Jenny as we were whipped up and down.

Emerging victorious from the jaws of Train Wreck our guide, Anthony, said that this was the first run of the summer that he basically had an, “Oh shit” moment. He said we hit this rapid harder than he has all summer; the bow went down so deep it launched his ass off the seat where he was in the back of the raft, and he was basically staring straight down at us thinking the front paddler was done for as he lost his foot holds. How he stayed in without having his feet wedged, I have no idea.

The canyon was beautiful and the sunshine was filtering through the clouds, quickly warming everything it touched. Anthony informed us that the trip would end after a few more bends but the rapids were done and so if anyone wanted to be crazy enough to jump in go ahead. And wouldn’t you know, in went Jenny, floating along on her back, peacefully down the river.

The rafting was a blast! We had so much fun. We kept saying we hoped Billy was catching fish because if not, he will be so bummed to have missed out on having so much fun!

We hauled ass north ten miles to check in to our airbnb and let Jenny get into some dry clothes (the neck gaiter on the dry suit must not have been perfectly sealed to her skin as she had some water trickle in). Then headed back south for 40 miles to pick up Billy.

We found him sitting on the porch of George’s house, drinking a beer, overlooking the most gorgeous view. George quickly handed me a beer and told me that Billy had killed it today- he caught over 40 grayling at least. It had been a spectacular day!!! The experience was amazing too he said. They canoed (good thing Jenny wasn’t with them) across some bold water to hike back to some smaller creeks – all the time keeping bear spray in their hand. An epic day for sure!

We left George and headed back north again to make our 8:30 dinner reservation at 49th State Brewing Company, pulling in right on time. The restaurant has the replica bus that was used for filming the movie, “Into the Wild,” the true story about Chris McCandless, a young kid who lived and died out in the Alaskan bush in an abandoned bus he found not too far from where we were sitting. It is Jenny’s favorite book and of course one of her favorite movies – she is drawn to the story, or perhaps the way of life. The real bus was airlifted out a few years back as people were getting hurt and even dying trying to reach it. It is now at a museum in Fairbanks, but the replica is good. It gave Jenny chills to be inside it, she said.

Alaska certainly has that draw, the one that lead Chris here in the first place. It is magnificent and maybe it’s the weather we have encountered that makes it almost hauntingly appealing. Billy already said he could live here, of course he hadn’t experienced winter here. Jenny, I am sure, could van life it here for a long time. I imagine we will return for sure, once retirement rolls around. In the meantime we have a few more days here, to soak up the beauty, and to literally get soaked!

August 13 – Homestead History

Another cloudy morning…Argh! I drove Billy 45 minutes south to drop him to meet his fishing guide then turned around and drove back. By the time I got back, Jenny was showered and ready to head out. We had no plans for the day except to check out Talkeetna and do a little shopping and eating.

As soon as we rounded the corner of Main Street, Jenny was in love. There was a cute park, a poke bowl place, an ice cream shop and an adorable coffee shop (named Mimi’s cheese haus). The main street was lined with historic buildings turned into hip gift shops and yummy food joints. There were clearly tourists running about but nothing like we saw in Homer and where Homer felt kitschy, Talkeetna felt revitalized and real.

We enjoyed shopping for some souvenirs and gifts to take home. We especially loved the small outdoor marketplace that was set up where locals were selling their handcrafted wares. I got a lesson on knives, (of all things right?) that was certainly very geared towards Alaskan hunting.

After doing some shopping, Jenny and I grabbed some delicious halibut tacos from a really cute taco truck. The only thing is they were fairly small so we were still hungry and decided to split a fried shrimp poke bowl, also delicious.

I told Jenny about an ATV tour I had read about, that was run by the brother of our host and she said it sounded like fun, so we booked the 4:00 tour. We then walked around the outlying neighborhood checking out some of the historical structures that have been preserved.

I especially loved the one that the guy had died in 1975 and with no heirs the cabin was boarded up. The historical society purchased the building from the town and when they opened it up c.2000- it was like a time capsule- everything still in its place- tins in the cupboard, clothes lying on the bed, etc.

With 45 minutes before our tour started and the skies clearing a bit, I suggested to Jenny we take a quick drive to see if Denali was visible at all, and wouldn’t you know. Jenny had to point its summit out to me because it was hurting up above the clouds but because it is totally snow covered, it blended in perfectly with the clouds. It was super cool to see it that way.

We got to the tour with about 10 minutes to spare when Billy texted saying he was on his way back – about three hours earlier than we had expected him. He caught no trout (he did catch salmon but that wasn’t what he was fishing for) and decided to cut his losses. He said he’d love to join us, if there was room, and in the nick of time he joined us!

The couple leading the tour were a hoot and their German Shepherd, Bosco, was too sweet!

The tour started off driving through the streets of Talkeetna. We then had to go over a bridge that spans the river (the bridge being 38 inches wide, the ATV being 35 inches wide), we were basically bouncing off the sides!

We continued for another 6 or 7 miles until we arrived at the summer home of our tour leaders. Dennis parents arrived here in 1959 with five children. They homesteaded 115 acres, building an 8’x12’ “house” with an upstairs loft that all five children slept in. The original cabin is now in disrepair and he has since built himself a modern log cabin that runs off a generator as it is off the grid. The location is spectacular- in the absolute middle of nowhere, only reached by ATVs in the summer or snow machines (as they call a snowmobile in Alaska) in the winter. So so cool!

All three of us really enjoyed this tour. As Billy put it, “I thought I would enjoy it, but I enjoyed it more than I thought I would.” We appreciated how personal it was and the stories that came with it.

Once back in town, we hustled over to the brewpub to grab dinner. We loved that so many establishments had live music and that there was a band playing at the town park. There is a definite vibe in Talkeetna, one that we all really like.

More scenes from around town:

Another heavily cloudy day with no visibility beyond a couple 100 foot high ceiling. We drove the 20 miles back to Seward, stopping at Seavey’s Ididaride to see if we could tour the dog kennels and snuggle some puppies but the tour was 1 1/2 hours long and we didn’t have enough time before our wildlife tour of Resurrection Bay was to begin.

The backup plan was to go to the Alaska Sea Life Center so we headed over there. We only spent maybe 45 minutes, but it was fun to see the seals, sea lions, puffins, etc and all the undersea creatures.

We had rescheduled our tour for today from a few days ago. It was to be a shorter cruise than the six hour we had originally planned and was to only stay in Resurrection Bay looking for marine mammals, therefore the size of the seas would not play as much of a roll.

As we began the boarding process we donned our masks and were surprised no one else was, as federal guidelines for all public transportation was still in effect that masks must be worn. The person checking us in told us our assigned seat assignments and then told us every seat was sold out and so we would be sharing the table cubicle with others. Wait… what? Every seat sold out? Not a single mention of masks? And we could expect to be seated across a table from total strangers who are or aren’t vaccinated and/or are or aren’t wearing a mask? You have got to be kidding me!

Yesterday Billy got a call that someone he works closely with (who has been vaccinated since January) got Covid and it took him and his 20-something daughter down- hard, like real hard!

I know this is Alaska (aka the Last Frontier). I know and respect we Americans love our liberties ( we are them) but enough is enough. There we were sitting – the only people wearing masks- listening to the guy behind us hack and I mean hack, then suck his snot up, then blow his snot out along with what sounded like a section of his lung and this went on for five minutes. I actually went and spoke to the captain and she informed me that they would “remind” passengers before we set sail that they were supposed to mask up but they could not personally call anyone out if they chose not to.

Needless to say, we were pissed, and uncomfortable and we decided to cut our losses. A shame as we would have enjoyed the ride but not at the expense of our health nor the satisfaction of those who are selfish enough to disregard federal mandates and demonstrate they care about nobody but themselves (and yes… I just said it)!

So they literally had to unlock the aft door and drop the gangplank for us to disembark- and frankly- it was one of the best decisions we have ever made while traveling. That boat ride was going to be nothing short of a super spreader event and we had no interest in being part of it!

We walked out on the docks and decided it was time to regroup once again… and come up with a new game plan. The good news is that the three of us are used to changing plans, tossing around new ideas and being spontaneous. We change our plans a lot, and while some may see us as wishy washy, we see it as constantly improving our skills of being flexible and adaptable- traits that allow you to comfortably travel in uncertain places, in uncertain times and still have fun and feel safe. Rigidity doesn’t work for us: it only sets you up for disappointment.

Seeing as it was just about lunchtime, we decided on the BBQ joint that Billy had nixed day before yesterday. And my oh my… what a great decision. The owner was a real gem! The food was off the charts! And the IPA Billy had was tinged with Kodiak Island pine! The whole place was outdoors and just as we sat down, the sun popped out for a few minutes! Pure perfection!

Following lunch, we retraced 40 miles of highway we had already crossed three times previously, we stopped to check for bears at the creek with the salmon (no bears), we stopped for ice cream and wished we could see the mountain tops in all their magnificence…

We stopped north of Anchorage for coffee and poke bowls to go – restaurants have been completely understaffed and stretched thin this year or, they just haven’t been able to open, making dining out here, beyond difficult.

By the time we reached Talkeetna, our destination for the next two nights, we were beat. It rained almost the entire 240 miles, stopping just as we reached the Talkeetna junction (about 15 miles from our lodging). It is so strange knowing that a 20,000 foot mountain is standing right in front of us and we can’t see it!

Our cabin was cozy and we enjoyed talking to the owner and his summer helper who hailed from Montenegro (one of a very few lucky students that was able to enter the US on a J-1 visa this year). They were headed out in the bush, and we had a good discussion about the very large sidearm he carried (a 44 magnum with a 7” barrel) and how he considered it is as basically “insurance.” He said he carried it to protect himself against black bears, not grizzlies – which I found surprising (We have now crossed the geographic line that defines a brown bear from a grizzly bear), because, as he said, “black bears were so unpredictable.” When I asked him what he meant, he couldn’t really elaborate… but Jenny could. She explained, “Mom… look… a black bear is unpredictable because if they stumble upon you they are gonna take a minute or two to decide if they are gonna eat you. A grizzly? There’s no deciding. If they stumble upon you… they are definitely gonna eat you!” I laughed my ass off at her oh-so-simple deduction on this Alaskan’s thought process! And you know? I bet you she’s right!

But… as he said… the chances your “insurance” even helps you out when you have hundreds of pounds of angry muscle running 35 miles per hour at you, and you have to unholster, aim, and shoot with a single bullet? Forget about it- you don’t stand a chance. But hey… it is nice to say you have insurance!

August 11 – Where are the Bears?

This morning brought rainy skies, low clouds and a prediction of it not letting up, at all. Needless to say, the hike back to the Harding Icefield was not happening.

We had a very leisurely morning, letting Jenny sleep in until 10:00 as between fighting the cold and a headache yesterday that didn’t seem to want to retreat, no matter how much medication we fed her, I thought some extra sleep would be a good idea!

By the time we made it out the door it was 12:30. We had decided to head north to a town called Hope that sits on the coast of Turnagin Arm (the same large body of water we drove around the day we left Anchorage). Hope is an historic town that came to be from the gold rush and because it is 15 miles on a dead end off the highway, it doesn’t get a lot of visitors.

As we were driving, we also decided to make a slight detour ( a 20 mile one) to the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center where they have native animals that have been rescued but can’t be released back into the wild. The weather had turned worse and was now hovering around 50 degrees with a steady downpour and stiff winds.

On Jenny’s wishlist of things she had hoped to see coming to Alaska, had only been otters. After seeing lots of them, she has now focused on bears. While there was one on the edge of the trail, we didn’t actually see much of him so she is still on the lookout. I figured this was at least a start and seeing as we have looked for them but not found them yet, we could always say, “we saw bears in Alaska.”

The enclosures for the bears are huge; they could easily hide out and never have to see a human, if they so choose- the way it really should be. But, luckily for us, they were hanging out close enough for us to see them up front and personal. We have never seen a brown bear ( basically a grizzly but a bit larger, living along the coast and feeding on salmon mostly) and only seen grizzlies in the distance or at a rehabilitation center so this was a first. When you really look at the size of it- how huge their head is, or even just their nose, you certainly gain an appreciation for their strength. One of them had us cracking up, scratching his belly on the logs (though it looked like he was doing something else).

The black bear was huge and reminded us of Lily… We used to call her our “bear” as she reminded us of one with her thick fur coat and soulful eyes. It made us a bit sad as her passing is still so fresh in our minds and raw in our hearts. Jenny thought the bears all seemed sad; it was hard not to disagree and while these animals are now captive, they would not have survived in the wild otherwise.

We also got a kick out of the porcupine. I had seen one in Greer before but not up as close as this guy. He was so cute, eating peas for his lunch.

The Center certainly gives you a good overview of the animals, plus we all learned a thing or two. First off we were all surprised at how small musk oxen are in size and how equally small their horns are – I had always pictured them bison-size.

Caribou are also smaller than I thought and are not double hoofed like a deer but have lots of toes. But most impressive and shocking to all of us was that there is another bison species that is native to North America – the wood bison. Wood bison were originally found in parts of Alaska and western Canada, they are larger than the plains bison with their hump noticeably bigger. They were thought to be extinct by the early to mid 1900’s before a small herd was found in NW Canada in the late 1950’s. An ongoing project has led to a captive breeding program here at the Center, and they have since placed a new herd in the wilds of Alaska. We love this sort of story so the hefty price of admission for this alone was worth it!

We laughed that the only animal we didn’t see in their enclosure was the moose. We have seen lots of Moose, on both coasts of the country, and thought how funny it would have been if we had seen the moose and not the bears.

We pulled into Hope close to 3:30 and were all hungry. We made a U-Turn (because you know about Merrick road trips) after passing a sign for The Dirty Skillet, a restaurant I had read about. We grabbed a seat outside, under a pavilion, and enjoyed the fire pit that warmed us from the center of the table. We ordered some apps and each got a burger with fries then split a bowl of homemade chocolate /coffee ice cream topped with a bourbon caramel sauce- everything was delicious!

After linner (because that’s what it ended up being) We drove further down the road into historic Homer. Wow! Is this place charming! So many buildings were made from square cut logs and most had historic plaques marking them – the earliest I saw was 1890’s. We parked at the end of Main Street and walked over to Resurrection Creek to watch the locals fishing for salmon- a seriously entertaining endeavor!

On our ride back, we stopped to see if we could catch a glimpse of the bore tide that was predicted to be pretty good. The wind was honking and the drizzle still spitting making it difficult to stand and wait and watch; but that is just what we did… to no avail. We definitely saw some surfable waves but the actual bore tide wave eluded us.

A few things we have noticed about driving in Alaska, since we have already covered close to 800 miles: the highways are completely litter free and except for one poor porcupine, we have not seen any roadkill. In all my travels back and forth to Greer, I can safely bet that in 800 miles of highway I have seen dozens of roadkills. And funny thing is 1 mile seems a lot longer to travel here than back home – still trying to figure that one out…

By the time we got back to the cabin it was close to 8:30. The rain had stopped but the clouds were still thick as a woolen blanket and the wind was still at it. We had no choice but to turn the heat on to get the chill out of the cabin and out of our bones.

Tomorrow is our last day for the coast, unless we end up making a serious detour for a few hours to Valdez later on. We have loved being on the water and the Kenai Peninsula is simply stunning. I remember having conversations with people about why we love Patagonia so much, as it is still so wild and a few of them retorting, “Well then, have you been to Alaska?” I get it now. I totally get it.

Aug 10 – Wait…what?

Another rainy morning with cloud layers so low we felt like we could reach out and touch them. We enjoyed a rather leisurely morning, sipping coffee and eating oatmeal and cereal for breakfast

We left around 10:00, giving ourselves plenty of time to check in for our six hour wildlife cruise through Kenai Fjord National Park with Major Marine. As we got closer to Seward there was more blue sky visible and by the time we arrived there was more blue than clouds! Yay, I thought. We are going to have a fantastic day for the boat ride. But, as I was waiting to check in, I overheard one of the agents talking about 14 foot waves and 30 knot winds. Wait…what? When I reached the desk and asked her if she was talking about today’s forecast she said yes, and they were suggesting everyone take dramamine.

When I approached Jenny and Billy with the forecast, Billy quickly shot me down as, “not happening!” I will agree that 14 foot waves and 30 knot winds on open seas did not sound overly appealing.

We walked along the harbor and began putting a new plan into motion.

We decided we would head out to the only spot that has vehicle access to Kenai Fjords National Park to check out Exit Glacier. We discussed hiking the Harding Icefield Trail, a grueling 4 mile trek to the end that climbs 1,000 feet per mile, estimated to take 6-8 hours. But once up there you have views of the entire Harding Icefield.

So with our plan in place we decided that first off we needed sustenance. Choice #1 closed, choice #2 Billy rejected, Choice #3, a creperie, was open but the kitchen was backed up and we had a bit of a wait. Turned out the wait was worth it as the food was delicious and the lady who owned it was very interesting, having raised 30 kids! And she had been a swim coach and coached Lydia Jacoby’s swim coach – Lydia is from Seward. We loved seeing all the signs everywhere cheering her on and congratulating her – such an amazing story!

Our first views of Exit Glacier from a viewpoint along the highway, were amazing, looking far across a rocky floodplain to the glacier pouring down over the tops of the mountains.

As we began the trek, Jenny said she didn’t know if she was mentally prepared for it, still suffering from her cold (we covid tested her again), and feeling the beginnings of a headache. Billy said we would just go as far as we wanted then turn around, I said if we had no plans on getting to the top then we should just take another trail where we could actually see the glacier as this trail was in the trees. Billy said we should stick to the plan.

Fifteen minutes in and we peeled a layer, ten minutes later we peeled a second layer, another ten minutes and we were down to our final layers. We had dressed for cold windy weather and to be out on a boat, Billy didn’t have his hiking shoes on, I had on polartec fleece pants and only Jenny was dressed for the conditions we were in. About .75 miles up the trail, huffing and puffing from the climb and our hefty packs, Billy said he was out and we were headed back. “Oh no we are not. I didn’t just kick my ass to not even get a glimpse of the glacier up close. I am going the next 3/4 miles to the first viewpoint. You can turnaround,” I said. And so on we trudged- up, up, up, and it wasn’t just incline it was like stair stepping up the rocks. But once we reached Marmot Meadows the views were incredible of not only the glacier but of the valley.

We took a long rest and when I suggested we should try to get to the next viewpoint another mile up, Jenny was game but Billy flat out rejected it. The skies were almost completely clear, the views would have been incredible but we headed back down. At the time I thought it was the right decision, all for one, but in hindsight Jenny and I should have gone; she was game and this was her trip.

Pulling out of the jam-packed parking lot we got a good chuckle at the fact that in almost any other national park there would be license plates from just about all 50 states represented. In Alaska? Only two were from outside of Alaska! There were also a handful of U-Hauls, a result of the car rental shortage that is happening- desperate times call for desperate measures, so they say!

After our hike we stopped for a well earned gelato and then took a few detours down either side of Resurrection Bay, as far as we could drive on each side. We parked the car down at Lowell Point and walked out onto the black sand beach- a true beach. The day had cleared completely and we were finally able to see the true majesty of where we were.

Jenny asked me if I thought this was the prettiest place we had ever been, and now seeing it in all its glory I said, “We have seen a lot of mountains in all our travels, but none of them were as grand as this.” She turned and said, “Well, I think it is the most beautiful place we have ever been. There. I said it! Even more beautiful than Switzerland!”

I told her I was so happy to hear her say that because when we rebooked Alaska Jenny had no plans to go to Switzerland but an unexpected opportunity came up and she spent a week in Switzerland hiking the gorgeous Alps; so I had been concerned that Alaska would not be as awe inspiring to her after that but apparently I was dead wrong!

We made one last stop on our return to the cabin, at the Bear Creek fish weir that sometimes the bears hang out at. Unfortunately, there were no bears but we were entertained watching the trout trying to jump the waterfall.

We also got to talking with a young guy from Germany who had gone to Mexico and spent the required 14 days there so he could get into the US. He had planned on hiking 1500 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail but had only gotten around 800 when it was closed due to the Dixie Fire so he decided to switch plans and come to Alaska for the remainder of his time. We gave him a ride back to the highway junction, wished him well and then headed to the cabin.

The setting this evening was perfection. Clear blue skies and not a breath of air, so I decided to take full advantage of it by getting a fire going in the fire pit. Billy barbecued dinner and then went to bed while Jenny and I stayed up sitting at the fire pit until well past 10:00 enjoying the beautiful sunset, roasting marshmallows and talking. She was clearly disappointed we didn’t try for the top today. I promised her if the weather holds out I will go back and do the full hike with her tomorrow.