TravelAlaska.com

Alaska - Beyond Your Dreams. Within your reach.

 

In every lifetime, life changing opportunities/events present themselves. Your first consensual sexual encounter, your first wedding (hopefully your only), your first new car, the birth of all of your children, and yes your first goodbye to a loved one are a few of the events that fit this category. Many people get to experience all of these events. An event, occasion, epiphany so profound, that to write it down would never do it justice but still one has to try. There arose such an event during the year of my 40th birthday. I know that my notes and recollections will never come close to relating to what Alan, Greg, and I had seen, done, and experienced, but I will sure try. Come along for the ride.

We went to Alaska

Alaska . The word rings, "Its cold". Conjures up visions of Polar Bears, igloos, and gold. The last U.S. frontier. The last place on earth to some, my place on earth as far as I’m concerned. “North to the Future”, the state motto penned by Richard Peter, was meant to represent Alaska as a country of promise. Serving as a land in the United States, that promised an escape from the over-crowdedness suburban clutter. An oasis where this century’s 'huddled masses yearning to be free,' could go. Mostly untouched, Alaska is the United State’s largest state. Easily twice the size of Texas, Alaska covers 2700 miles East to West and 1400 miles North to South. When superimposed over a map of the United States, it reaches from coast to coast. Matter of fact, the state of Rhode Island could fit into Alaska 425 times! Guess you could say that this is a pretty big state.

But enough about regurgitated facts that came from some website while I was writing this (they don’t even get credit – just common knowledge, this is my story, doubt it’ll get published, and I’m lazy), I want to get you moving on our trip. Hopefully selling you on the idea that maybe, just maybe, you – “dear reader,” as Stephen King would say – will want to adventure into the land of adventure. So let’s get started…

Greg, Leath and I had often thought about this trip for several years and always joked about it. But this time it was serious. In 2002, Greg and I (we still argue over this point, so I decided that we both get credit – literary license – even though it was me) became seriously involved in planning a trip to Alaska. Why 2002? Reality check, that’s why. A classmate of mine and Greg’s (one of Greg’s best friends other than yours truly), David Flynn, had died. Talk about a dose of reality! Same age as Greg and I just died. That’s all – just died. I believe, and Greg may or may not agree, that it was then that we took stock of our lives and the fact that it could all be over in a blink of an eye. So many things that wouldn’t get done – the good ones and the bad ones – just experiences in general that wouldn’t be allowed into our life’s resume. Events started to unfold. Our path was set for the trip of a lifetime. Our adventure. And even at the risk of sounding cliché, our ‘finding ourselves’.

Like I said, certain events were put into motion once David Flynn died. A decision to get tattoos was made and executed, and the trip to Alaska was planned. Like the trip, the tattoos had been jokingly discussed earlier. This time we acted. Greg got his first – a Superman insignia – something he had always wanted to get. I had an idea, but it didn’t pan out. I got a Chinese dragon instead of the Irish art that I wanted. Both of them look really cool and the artists did a great job. The only unfortunate aspect was that we didn’t get to get them together. But we both agreed that it was something that we would most definitely consider doing again when the opportunity presented itself. For Greg and me impulses were mostly planned.

The Alaskan trip was not one of those unplanned or planned impulses. It took careful preparation and planning. Greg took the reins on that. Starting in late 2001, he began to research and compare the costs of everything from our hotel room, the RV cost, our excursions, and our food stuffs. He even had several phone conversations with the staff at Miller’s Landing and the Denali Park Service arranging our stays in both of those places. Greg took charge of all of that and I was extremely grateful. The only footwork that I truly needed to do was arrange for Alan’s and my plane tickets. And even then, Greg had a route planned out so that we could meet in Detroit and fly the rest of the way together. Once the arrangements were made, we each began the process of researching what we were going to need for the trip. It wasn’t your average vacation trip. This was camping in style – Recreational Vehicle. Still everything needed to accounted for. Besides the normal packing for a cooler climate, other considerations needed to be made. For instance, luggage, instead of bringing only suitcases, duffel bags and back-packs were also needed. One for the ability to carry large amounts of clothes and other necessities and two, to be able to fold and store them away saving valuable. Non-normal items had to be purchased and packed. Here is a partial list of necessities excluding the obvious clothes and cameras.

Packing List
Flashlights
First Aid Kits
Bug repellent
Water blatters for our back-packs
Utility Knives
Compass
GPS
Maps
Hiking boots
Hats
Mole skin – for blisters
Ponchos
Batterys

I’m sure that I am forgetting something, but you get the idea. In addition to the provisions that we brought along, some of our food stuffs were purchased in Anchorage at a Costco. The beer was bought there - in bulk.

The day was fast approaching when Greg, Alan, and I were going to step into our ‘man trip,’ our ‘guys only trip,’ our adventure.

The rest of this account of our odessy is a day-by-day recollection of the sites and sounds that we experienced as I remember them. I wrote notes on every single day that we were in that marvelous state and hope that I can recreate them here. I must warn you, I have taken litary license with some events in an attempt to accurately fill in the gaps not recorded.

Here we go:

 

Alan picking his nose while we wait for shuttle

 

 

 

 

 

 

June 5th – Got up at 4 so that Alan and I could catch our first flight into Detroit. I told Alan over and over again to make sure that there were no knives in his backpack (stemming from other airport security incidents in Alan’s past). Guess what? A butter knife, still in there. Security let him keep it, but the incident became a joke all week. Poor Alan. The flight was very uneventful and we landed on time. I sat in a bar waiting on Greg to show up while Alan walked the airport to find his gate. Eventually the two of them showed up. Greg and I had a beer together and then headed for the gate.

The flight to Anchorage was packed! Not a seat to be had. The plane was mostly with tourists about to embark on famous Alaskan cruise ships for a week of fun in the ice. There were always lines to the bathroom, so you wanted to hold it as long as you could.

We landed on time. Exhausted by the six-hour flight but pumped and ready to get on with our adventure (as our trip became known as). The hotel sent a shuttle for us and off we went. Immediately we were awe struck by the mountain ranges in every direction. All snow-capped and beautiful. Such a change from the Smokey Mountains where the mountains are much smaller and wooded instead of rocky.

The hotel would have been average for someone staying there that was from Alaska or on business, but for us, it was a 4 star joint. It had everything we needed – bar (priorities), wood paneling (log cabin look and feel), a chandelier – not just any light – but made of antlers (how cool is that?). Once inside our room, the tiredness wore off and we caught our second wind. After getting settled into our room and showing off newly inked tattoos, we headed down for dinner. We had a good meal and we were the only ones in the restaurant except for one other table. Service was good and the prices were high (a recurring theme). From the restaurant back to the room to unpack slightly and then headed down to the bar. Alan even came along. It was after all, a sort of coming of age for him. We, Greg and I, drank and drank waiting for the sun to go down. No such luck. Talking to the waitress, this was as dark as it got. The weather had become overcast and the temp had dropped to about 50. Slightly stumbling from the bar, we finally got to bed around – well let’s see was it noon or midnight? My watch said 12, but the sky said “whatever”.

Tomorrow, our adventure would begin in earnest.

  June 6th - Woke up early. Too early probably, but what the hell – we were on an adventure. Headed down for breakfast. The meal was hardy. Bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes, and coffee all around. I thought I was going to bust. Back to the room for clean up and packing, then down to check out and catch the shuttle to ABC Rentals. It was rainy and there was a definite chill (about 50) in the air. The skies looked as it did when we went to bed – cloudy and overcast.

We got to ABC early. They had told us that the motor home may or may not be ready and that it could be as late as 1 in the afternoon before we got it. On top of that, we were supposed to watch a safety and tutorial video on the workings of our rv. Upon arrival, we found that the rental was ready for us. We spent a total of a half hour there. Once settled in, Greg set his laptop up and turned on his GPS software, got our coordinates and directions, put the truck into gear and off we went. First stop, Costco. We loaded up on all kinds of supplies and beer. Next stop, the grocery store. Here we collected our fresh meats and other essentials. The bill was mounting. Over 100 at Costco and 150 at the grocery store. But all of this should keep us for a few days. While unloading the grub, Alan and I were in the camper when all of a sudden we were practically knocked down by something hitting it. Rushing out, we found that some woman had gotten out of her car and headed toward the store, but had not put the car in park. No damage done to us, but a headlight knocked out of hers. She apologized over and over, we said it was ok and continued on with the loading of the camper. Next we hit the highway. Now it was 1 PM and we were on our way to Seward.

The trip down the All-American Highway was marvelous. The highway was lined with cedar trees on one side and the TurnagainArmBay on the other. Mountains were everywhere. Streams poured down the sides of the mountains and waterfalls could be seen splashing along side the road. Low clouds allowed for the illusion of mist rolling through the peaks and valleys between mountains. Sun peeking through gave rainbow like effects reflecting off of the bay and cloud. Our road trip to Seward allowed us to view a Bald Eagle soaring overhead. I thought that Greg would run us off the road sometimes while he strained to take all of the scenery in. The trip to Seward probably included 3 rolls of film between us. Adventure off to a marvelous start!

We got to Seward around 4 and traveled through town. A small tourist town nestled at the south end of the Chugach Mountains and at the north end of Reserection Bay off of Highway 9, the climate and surroundings reminded me of Southampton, Ontario, Canada where my Grandparents had a summer home on Lake Huron.

Greg’s GPS software directions led us from paved to gravel. Past a raging waterfall flowing under the road and into ResurrectionBay. Cruise ships were docked in the distance empty of passengers who were most likely on a train ride through the mountains. A narrow one-lane bridge over a strong running stream proved to be a little nerve raking, but Greg handled the truck with skill even though my knuckles were white. The rattling and clanking of pots and pans drove us to the brink of insanity. As the week went on, Alan would provide a way for us to cope with this clatter in other ways.

Miller’s Landing, our first home, was on the shores of ResurrectionBay. Across the bay, postcard mountains with their snow-caps, stared back at us. The campground had two types of sites, wooded and waterfront. We reserved waterfront.

Time to get cracking. Fire up the fire-pit. Wait! No grill. Looking around, know one next to us – STEAL THE GRILL! While waiting for the meat to cook, we were provided entertainment from 6 Sea Otters – playing together in the water. Steaks ate, beer drank, shoes off, ending night with the guy moive, “Jay and Silent Bob,” another recurring theme. Slept great despite the sun peeking through the curtains.

June 7th - Our morning began with blue skies and billowing clouds, in the 50’s, and of course – a beautiful view. Our adventure today would take us to Exit Glacier and the Harding Ice Fields. Breakfast eaten and necessities taken care of, Greg started up the truck and we were off to the Glacier and a trek that will remain with us our entire lives.

We pulled over onto a pullout and stood in front of Exit Glacier about 10 miles from us. You could actually feel the waves of cold air rush at you from the massive ice flow.

About 10 miles from Exit Glacier  

Such a beautiful sight (another recurring theme) is and was Exit Glacier. As we drove in, signs past by us (“Prior 1800,” 1830, 1899, etc.) years indicating where the glacier flow stopped and how it has since receded. Flat, wooded, and grainy land surrounded us. The glacier was now out of sight. We were too close to see it. We parked the truck and started to pack. With our backpacks filled with water, first-aid stuff, snacks, cameras, film, and extra socks – we took our walking staves and headed out to the Ranger’s Station. There we talked to a Park

Ranger about climbing to the Harding Ice Fields. Although the hike to the Fields was not officially open from a certain point, the Ranger told us that we could climb to them. She told us that the path turned to snow but that it had been marked with paint earlier. Informing us that there were bears about, Greg bought a bear bell. “How are we going to see bear with that damn thing ringing all the way up?” I thought. I really like bears – yes – another theme – and Greg, for some reason, didn’t want to be eaten.

After taking a picture with the ranger, we headed down the trail to the bottom of the glacier.

Before hike - Fresh as Daisies Hikers – Exit Glacier/Harding Ice Fields Trek – We didn’t take an after shot

The trail was flat and paved. This made us wonder (hope) if the entire hike would be this way. Around every bend, we halfway expected to see a bear blocking our path (thanks to the ranger), but there were none. There were a few other tourists/hikers on the path, but only a few. It was early. The path emptied out onto an open-area washout. Several streams ran from the ice forming a river of parallel paths through the gravel washout and into the woods. Traversing the fast running streams was not hard work. We made our way to the bottom of the ice flow. The ice was massive! Towering about us to a good 30 or 40 feet before leveling some and continuing up the mountain. Blue ice! The ice was actually blue. I read somewhere that this was caused by the absence of light. Whatever, it was beautiful – words truly could not describe.

After oooing and ahhhinng at Exit Glacier from below, we started up the path to the Harding Ice Fields. Now this is a 3.5 mile, 7000 foot increase in elevation trip one way and of course we are physically fit for this little jaunt. We couldn’t have been more wrong. The climb started out nice and smoothly. The trail went through woods and over streams. Vegetation here reminds me of a rain forest. Ferns, moss, and flowers were mixed in with the Ash and Cedar trees that somewhat lined the trail. The trail itself was quite damp due to small streams and waterfalls crossing it. Not too muddy though. The trail eventually began to climb dramatically. This made us stop and catch our breaths frequently. The trail took us away from the glacier and at times you couldn’t see it at all. Steadily climbing however. The denseness of the woods made a breeze very unlikely and it was getting warm. Even though our muscles were holding up, the climb was making it hard for me to keep my breath. Heart pounding through my chest, we continued the climb.

Crossing one of many streams at Exit Glacier

Finally the dense vegetation gave way to meadows and breezes. Walking along one meadow, we stopped for lunch. At a high spot overlooking the middle of the glacier, we ate and rested for about an hour. Taking in the sun and the scenery. Then we started off again refreshed. When you see snow on a mountain, you wonder how high up it is. Could anyone who wasn’t a part of the Discovery Channel ever reach that type of snow? We did. Our first encounter with snow was on the opposite side of Exit. We stopped and played in it for a while. The snow was very sturdy, but at times we would break through the top layers and go down to our waists. It was at this point that I started to lag behind due to my heart pounding and the inability to breath. Was I going to die – if so what a place to go! After about 4 hours of hiking we came across a man coming down. He informed us that we were about half way to the fields. HALFWAY!!! He also told us that it was mostly snow covered about a third of the way up. Still we traveled up. The path was winding and steeper.

Eventually the trail was entirely covered with snow. I don’t know how deep the snow was, but it was deep. The trail was marked with orange flags. We struggled up the path in a single file line. But following the common path was not always an easy task. Several times we would slip while following in the other’s footsteps. Down we would go to our waists. We did find it easier to get off the marked trail by about 5 – 10 feet and walk on undisturbed snow. There was an element in great danger in doing this. You never knew if the snow would break loose and down you would slide to your certain death (a little dramatic phrasing – don’t you think – but truly we were on dangerous footings).

Finally, I reached the rock out-cropping where Greg and Alan were waiting for me. It was decided that I wasn’t to go any further. I made myself as comfortable as I could with my heart exploding. No more cigars for me! Greg and Alan began their final assault on the Harding Ice Fields – leaving me behind to stand guard. The view from my perch was awesome putting it mildly. I watched them crest a rise and fall out of sight – this was as far as I could go and I was ok with that. I wanted to be there next to them, maybe next time.

After about 45 minutes, the guys reappeared about 500 feet above me. That doesn’t sound like much, but 500 feet straight up is a long way and changes the amount of air that one can take in. Finally the guys made it back to me. They informed me that they couldn’t go any further. Right after losing sight, they traveled about 200 feet and just couldn’t get through the snow. Other hikers seemed to have made it, but they were carrying snowshoes.

From my perch waiting for Greg and Alan – the streams at the bottom is where we had begun  

I let Greg and Alan rest a little before we started back down. The trek down was more difficult than any of us had expected. The trail descended as quickly as it had ascended, so it made the going rough on these old guy’s shins and knees. The wet path up was extremely slick coming down. The whole trip down took less time – about an hour.

We emerged from the flat lands on to the parking lot of the visitor center completely worn out but happy to have done the hike. At the beginning of the hike, we started with the intention of getting a “before and after” picture with the ranger – yeah right! I was a little sad and embarrassed for not being able to make the whole trip with Greg and Alan, but I was proud of all of us for attempting the hike at all.

Driving back to Miller’s Landing dinner became the topic of conversation. Moreover the topic of not wanting to cook it. Once back in Seward, we stopped at a Subway and called home. Stopping at a fast food place would be the butt of many jokes back home. Three men – intent on roughing it in Alaska – eating at Subway! Oh well – there would be plenty of time to cook. We got back to Miller’s and settled in for another night of “Jay and Silent Bob”. We all slept like rocks.

The trip to Exit Glacier and up to the Harding Ice Fields was a jaunt that will never be forgotten by any of us (recurring theme). Resting at any one place gave us the opportunity to begin to understand the effects of being small and insignificant. God definitely knew what he was doing when he created Alaska – saved the best for last I suppose.

June 8th – The plan for today was to go kayaking. Too sore and tired to do that, we decided that a road trip to Homer would be much more fun. Stuffing the power cord into the truck and sweeping the dirt off of the floor, we headed out.

Homer is a small fishing town about 100 miles away through the ChugachNational Forest and mountains. All the time we drove, I was complaining that Alaska had played a big joke on us – there was no wildlife. Hell, we hadn’t even seen a moose yet. What kind of place was this? Tired of not seeing anything, we pulled into a Ranger’s Station and jokingly asked the ranger where all the bears were. The junior ranger (not much older than 20) informed us that we were in a virtual bear neighborhood. Ranger Rick told us that running parallel to the highway was a dirt road behind the line of trees seen from the highway. The dirt road provided trailheads to various trails in the national forest. The trails varied in length and direction. He said that the best chance of seeing bears was back there. He watched us as if we were crazy leave the station and quickly load up into the truck. I’m sure he started getting his rescue bag ready once we left. Stupid tourists!

We pulled on to the dirt road – immediately changing from silence to a symphonic rendition of “Pots and Pans”. Alan fixed this problem. He stored all the pots and pans under the table seats and placed blankets over them. The boy can definitely think on his feet. We drove for a while and got deep into the woods. Finding a trailhead that we could agree on – not too long, not too short (actually it was only 2.5 miles round trip) – we stopped and got out. Spraying ourselves we Off, checking our water supply, putting on backpacks, and pulling out the cameras – we headed down the trail.

Mosquitoes attacked with the fury of Japanese Kamikaze pilots as we descended from the road and into the woods. With me in the lead, Alan next, then Greg, we followed the trail as it wound about. Trees were scarred everywhere. Bear markings. Bark pulled away from the trees horribly scratched from as high up as 10 feet. We also found bear dung everywhere. No bears to be seen, but we knew they saw us. The dense green forest gave way to scorched land and trees. There had been a fire here. The entire area was blackened. The bear markings were still visible. I guess that bears even scratch burnt trees when they have an itch. The air was thick and damp. No sounds. The quiet was deafening here. An eerie calm had taken over. Not for us though – I know the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. The bears knew we were here – we could feel the eyes on us.

With everyone on edge and ready to run at a moments notice, we moved cautiously. Heavy paw sounds behind us! Low, deep panting broke the silence! Bear! We swung around just in time to see a reddish-brown Golden Retriever bounding up behind us. I think we almost peed ourselves right then if someone hadn’t already. A group of hikers came up behind the dog calling his name. After our hearts settled down we moved on. Not long after the ground became a swamp and we decided to turn back. Saw more bear crap on the way back that hadn’t been there when we started out. Bears were here. This hike had been a trip into the “Twilight Zone” to say the least.

Back into the truck we headed for our destination – Homer on the Cook Inlet. Drove into Homer and out on to a peninsula. The day was overcast now. Not much to see or do in Homer. Saw a Bald Eagle perched on a wading tree in the bay. Eagles are plentiful here. We stopped in at a souvenir shop and did some shopping. Knowing that we needed to pick up gifts for the folks at home, we spent a good hour there. I was able to get Becky and Danielle something from the store. Some jewelry and t-shirts. With gifts in hand, we started back to Seward.

I yelled out as I saw a moose sow and calf walking through what looked to be the creation of a new road. We stopped and ran after them. Never finding them we continued on. At about the same spot where we had hiked earlier (but on the highway side), a large black bear bounded out of the forest and seemed to be charging the camper. It stopped just short of the road, turned and ran back into the woods. All the time we were trying to stop but couldn’t due to traffic behind us. The bear was gone. Our first bear, but no pictures. I couldn’t believe it – right in the same area where we had hiked. Wonder if this guy had been watching us. Maybe he had the dog and owner for lunch right after we left, who knows. Makes for a good bear story though. So far our animal count was – 4 moose (3 seen by me and one by Greg), 1 bear, Bald Eagles – 2, and Sea Otters.

A little disappointed in Homer, but the trip had been relaxing after Exit and we had time to reflect on Exit and be the mountain men we intended on being. Crude jokes, expelled gas, and rock-n-roll provided us a fun trip that day.

We got back to Miller’s Landing around 11 and went straight to bed. Fishing tomorrow at 7.

June 9th - The day looked just like the night. Up at 5, we found gray skies and a chill in the air. We ate a little breakfast and packed our lunches. We made our way down to the office and waited for the skipper and first mate. While there we met Ryan and Mike Quinn of Fairbanks. Later we found out that this father and son team came once a year to stock up on Halibut, Salmon, and other fish to take back with them for the year. Our captain was Mike Miller (who also happened to be the Miller of Miller’s Landing). He and the first mate loaded our gear and boated us out to the fishing boat. The boat was long and heavy. It was complete with a cabin - which included a stove, sink, bed, electronic gear, stereo (which seemed to play NOTHING but Neil Young), and a head. The First mate reminded me of Quint from “Jaws”. Rough-looking character by the name of Mike. He was a nice guy and very helpful. First mate Mike came from Montana and had only been here for a month. Looked as though he was running away from something or someone(things that make you say – hmmmm). I’m sure there was a story there that could have been easily acquired over a beer or two. Captain Mike was a quite soft-spoken man. He kept his eye on the depth and fish finder most of the time. What a job! Taking tourists out to fish all day.

We sailed out for about 2 hours before Captain Mike threw the gears into neutral. 1st Mate Mike baited everyone’s hooks with fish cut right there and 10 pound weights. Over the side the hooks went and then to the bottom – which was anywhere from 150 to 400 feet deep. Right off the bat everyone caught something. Some had to throw certain fish back like Salmon which weren’t in season yet. My first fish was a Sea Bass at about 10 pounds. The biggest fish I had ever caught until the end of the day that is. In all – I caught 2 keepers, Greg 3, and Alan 1.

We moved from spot to spot – sometimes hitting, sometimes not. Alan and Ryan started feeling a little queasy and helped put chum in the ocean a couple of times. But really, what do you expect? The swells were about 5 or 6 feet. Not your average size swell in a Memphis lake. The boys recovered nicely. Alan even caught a shark. It was about 4 feet long and put up quite a fight. He had to throw it back due to fishing laws up there. Actually in the spot where we were, several smaller sharks were being caught. That meant we were in a school of sharks and that no other fish would stand a chance. So we had to move on.
We were entertained by the likes of Orcas, Humpback whales and Sea Lions.

Most of us took a little nap on the float back in. We reached the dock around 5:30 that afternoon. We had caught the limits on Halibut and Sea Bass. Other fish were caught but had to be thrown back because they were out of season.

Jaws Jr. Alan pulled this fighter in without any assistance. Took about 20 minutes to reel him in.

Mike and Mike hung the fish for us (what they could fit on the line) and we all took pictures. They, Mike and Mike, began to filet the fish. Carefully slicing the fish with sharp knives and divided up the filets, making sure that the piles contained equal amounts of various fish. After quiet consultation, Greg, Alan, and I decided for the better good of our collective selves, that we not take any of the fish caught that day. We were too tired and ignorant on how to cook the fish to keep any. Shipping it home would have been a great joke on our wives, but… A picture and fish tales would do. Greg went down and told Captain Mike that we didn’t want any. Made no difference to him. He already knew it was too much for us. The Quinns and restaurant owners who were anxiously waiting by the dock knew that we wouldn’t take our share either. Yea for the tourists. They got our share of the fish sold to them at a great price. But Capitan Mike kept most of the cheek meat – part of the Halibut that is actually used in simulated crab meat sold in the lower 48. What a life! Fish and sell fish – what else would a guy want to do?

June 10th – Danielle’s 18th birthday! She was in Germany at the time doing a one-year exchange program for her junior year in high school. Couldn’t call her, but was anxious to tell her Happy Birthday! Once again we coiled up the power cord, stuffed the pans under the seat and headed out. First stop – the store. Yes, we had to fill back up on food. We bought several items including a grill. Then we headed deeper into town and did laundry. About an hour and a half worth’s. Finally got on the road. We backtracked our way towards Anchorage with the same beautiful sights as when we came in. North of Anchorage, however, the road was littered with construction. The scenery was uneventful and downright plain. You could see the mountains in the distance getting closer, but it was still 450 miles away.

Finally getting into Denali around 7:30 that evening (even though it looked more like noon), we headed for the WelcomeCenter. The WelcomeCenter served as a souvenir shop, a nature resource center, tourist information, and ticket counter for pass passes and camping permits.

Denali was/is beautiful! Consisting of over 6 million acres, Denali is home to the country’s tallest peak, Denali or as most think of him – Mt.McKinley. We could actually see part of Denali and his surrounding mountain ranges from about 2 – 300 miles away. The closer we got to the park, the less we could see of Denali. In fact, Denali only shows himself completely to about 20% of all visitors that come to the park. Most tourists/natives only get a view of about halfway up the 20,000+ foot mountain. This is because Denali commands his own weather patterns. The mountain was named Denali or “High One” by the Athabascan Indians that were native to Alaska. Denali is the crowning jewel of the 600-mile long Alaska Range. The weather on Denali is formidable at best. At 14,500 feet the lows have been recorded at –95 degrees and the winds clocked at a mere 150 miles per hour! According to a history of Denali, the mountain’s core is made up of granite and slate that has been covered by ice hundreds of feet thick.

Because there is no hunting or trapping allowed in the park, wildlife flourishes in Denali. Moose, Caribou, Grizzle Bear, Eagles, Dall sheep, fox, Wolverine, and Marmot are among the 37 different species that are protected by the preserve. There have been as many as 159 different species of birds that call Denali home.

The park itself is very unspoiled. One 100-mile gravel road crosses the massive park and only certain vehicles are allowed on it. For the most part, Denali’s interior reminded me of Arizona. The Tundra is dotted with small shrubs and flowers. Not many trees are spotted once we got past the VisitorCenter. The trees seemed to peak at about 2700 feet and then gave way to the flat tundra that met the mountain foothills.

The site that we had selected to stay at was deep into the park. Teklanika Campground was 30 miles into the park and took us a better part of an hour to get to it. “Tek”, as we called it, was the furthest campground in that a RV could go. Campers have to pay for 3 nights to stay. If you drive out of the park area, your spot would be forfeited or you had to pay for 3 more nights. We had made reservations a few months in advance because we were told that the sites went quickly. Park tour buses and other park transportation were the only other vehicles allowed past the 30-mile marker.

The campground had no running water, no electricity and no modern plumbing (although the “outhouses” were of modern design and had their own flushing system). Campers were only allowed to run generators for certain periods of time during the day. All food was to be secured and never left unattended for fear of grizzles visiting. All garbage cans were had secured and heavy steel lids. Volunteers who also stayed in campers ran the campground.

Getting out of the RV, we were immediately attacked by mosquitoes. It was decided then and there that the door to the RV was to be always shut! We started a scrumptious dinner of hamburgers and settled in around a fire. Alan played guitar while Greg and I drank beer. After a 450-mile trip we were tired. The sun that night officially set at 12:10 AM the next morning. Alaska is a weird place for the sun.

June 11th – Slept hard last night except for the creepy time that I got up (around 2) to go “feed the fish” and walked through the campground to the latrine. Very eerie when everyone is asleep and the sky looks like it is dusk. You get the feeling that you are being watched. By who? Bears of course. I knew they were out there and I was on guard to meet one to or from the bathroom. Didn’t happen though – darn it.

We officially got up at 6, ate, and packed quickly. We were going hiking that day. Denali has very few marked tails. Any backcountry hiking is done without the aid of markers or guides. I had bought a book by a man that spent most of his time in Denali taking professional pictures. He wrote this book on the different hikes that he had taken. The book included longitude and latitude measurements along with physical features of the park (this rock, this curve, this mile marker kind of indicators) that acted as trailheads. Our bus picked us up at our stop outside Tek around 7:30. We told the bus driver to stop at mile marker 63 so that we could get out. Our destination that day was a mountain peak called, Stony Dome. On the way, we met a couple and their son from Mississippi and talked quite a lot about our’s and their trips.

While on the bus, we were treated to the sites of Caribou (of which we would get tired of seeing) and a Grizzly sow cuddling a cub from about 200 yards away. Of course the driver wouldn’t let me off to go pet the cute teddy bears, but that was ok – I wanted to go hiking at that time. But if we met one on our hike, that would be GREAT!

Our plan was, we had no real plan. To get started on the Stony Dome hike that this guy wrote about, was to first get off the bus at mile 63 on the dirt road that took tour buses to the end of the line which was Wonder Lake. The bus driver, a talkative guy, was more than happy to oblige us and pulled the bus over and announced to the riders that this was it for us. We were in the back of the bus. We gathered up our gear, with everyone watching, and climbed off the bus. The riders seemed to stare at us. “What are they doing?” “Are they nuts?” “Can they really do this?” “Damn! Why couldn’t I do that?” were the looks and murmurs we got. Saying thanks and giving him a tip, we disembarked. The doors shut and the bus moved along the at a break neck speed of about 15 mph.

The sun beat down on us and big clouds were off in the distance. Denali, however, decided he didn’t want to show up today. Crossing the road, we stopped and adjusted our packs and looked out towards where we thought we were going. I turned on my newly purchased hand-held GPS and got our bearings – this was the spot we were supposed to start from. We surveyed the land before us. With the bus gone and even though we were still standing on the road, I got the magical feeling that we were the first ever to discover this wild, untamed, beautiful landscape. A modern day Alfred Brooks who in 1902 led the first extensive exploration of Denali National Reserve. They have mathematically figured out that if you explored 100 acres a day in Denali, it would take you 165 years to see it all. At that point, I was willing.

We charged straight into the tundra. We found Stony Creek and followed across the tundra. Ice began to show up and soon covered the entire creek. You could still hear the water rushing under the ice as it wound towards the mountains. The ice flow took us to a valley point between two low mountains. At this point we could still see the road. The creek then took on a very thick ice covering. We were at the point, that to go any further would mean traveling across the ice. The ice was about 3 feet thick. Using our walking sticks (there’s a story to those as well), we hoisted ourselves on to the ice shelf and surveyed our surroundings. Behind us and to the North, was the road – by now it looked like a dirt trail only big enough to walk on. To the East and West of us were foothills severely sloped. South of us lay a canyon and the ice covered Stony Creek. Mosquitoes tried to attack us immediately. But we had been thinking and had applied sufficient amounts of Deep Woods Off. I had also been taking B1 for the past few weeks. They say B1 wards off pesky mosquitoes. That urban legend was paying off. These weren’t pesky mosquitoes, they were Kamikaze mosquitoes. Dive bombing us in swarms. They were in our eyes, mouths, ears, and nose. Any orifice available – they were attacking.

 Ice finally takes over Stony Creek. At the base of our Stony Dome Mountain hike.

Even though the ice was several feet thick, we carefully chose our path. You could still hear a very active creek running under the ice and every once in awhile, the water would peak through a crack. Some of the cracks in the ice were large enough that we either had to jump across or come down from and cross the creek stepping on stones careful as to not fall in.

We made our way down about an eighth of a mile. By now the road was out of sight and we were well inside the canyon. Still on the ice, we stopped and surveyed our surroundings trying to decide which would be the best way to assault Stony Dome. The canyon wound it’s way into the mountain pass and the creek followed it. We started up the foothills for a while. They were pretty steep for about 20 yards. We rested once we had made it to the top. The ground ran level for sometime and then continued to rise up to the first ridge. We continued along the ridgeline constantly moving upwards. My heart felt as though it was going to pop out of my chest. All reminiscent of Exit Glacier. Where Exit had trees, brush, and a defined trail, Stony Dome did not. The climb was not over rocks and up rock faces, but was smooth in its ascent. Scree, or loose rock, was the biggest physical hazard we encountered. One miss step and you could slide down the mountainside a long way. The climb was steeper than Exit, but like I said – it was smooth. We crested one ridge that seemed to fork over to more snow covered mountains that appeared to call for mountain climbing equipment. So we choose the other route that pointed to a grassy field on top of Stony Dome – our destination.

We headed to the left ridge. It swung around back towards the road that was still not visible from where we were. We had walked a little more than a mile at this point. Short-cutting the ridge a little bit, we crossed through calf high snow. Once on the ridge again, we headed South. The ridge straightened out and we started to get a little hungry. Where we were located presented a lunchtime problem. It was very windy and the temps had dropped about 20 degrees from our start at the road. We continued on until we came across an indention in the ground. Almost a hole. The hole was big enough for the 3 of us to climb into, get out of the wind, still enjoy our view, and ate our lunch. We rested and ate for about an hour. Packs lighter now that lunch was gone. Everyone got plenty of rest time and we had all caught our breaths. Climbing out of our lunch hole and with the wind about to knock us down, we continued up the ridge. On the ridge we encountered a set of bones. Animal we suspected(hoped), but couldn’t tell considering none of us were doctors. If you let your imagination run away, you could say that they were the remains of a human that had gotten lost or eaten by a bear. Chances were, however, that it was a moose or Caribou that had either been devoured by a bear or wolves. One bone still had a red stain on it. No fur was found, the bones were picked clean. Found out from a ranger later that Stony Dome was full of bear!

Alan perched on a rock along cliff. Truly, one wrong move and he would have come home in a body bag.

About an hour later we reached the top of Stony Dome. The view was magnificent and the wind could knock you over. My GPS said that we had climbed a little more than 5000 feet from the road. It was beautiful. Definitely God’s backyard. No other place has affected me this way. To be in all of this splendor was simple awe-inspiring. “Don’t go to Alaska until you’re old, nothing else will compare,” that quote never so truly stated as when we were standing on top of that mountain! We stayed at the top of Stony Dome for about 45 minutes. Taking pictures and enjoying the view. All of a sudden, a huge black cloud moved overhead. Lightning and thunder could be seen and heard. Wondering if this was going to turn out badly, we started back down. The cloud stayed to the East of us and it never rained. Temps went down a little more and the wind continued to blow, but that was it. This is where my GPS handheld came into play. Not really sure of the way to get back down, I had been punching in coordinates every 100 yards or so on the way up. This made it easier for us on the way down – just follow the line on the display. So we did.

On the way down, Mother Nature likes to play tricks with the human body. My stomach grabbed me in a way that could only be described as a vice grip. I had to go, I had to go NOW! Embarrassed, I sent Alan and Greg on up ahead to wait while I took care of business. Now I won’t recount my adventure there, but I will say that without anyone around or in sight, being alone is a climatic, scary feeling. Feeling that you aren’t alone and knowing it – bears, moose, etc. were everywhere but not showing themselves anywhere, you feel that at anytime you could be like those bones we saw on the way up. I wonder, hmmm….

Rejoining the guys, we all headed down. Where I had trouble breathing on the way up, it appeared that the way down was having an effect on Greg. His legs and knees were hurting and he was tiring. I think that the way down was probably more physically intensive due to the angle of descent. Where we were climbing on our way up, we had to control our steps on the scree on the way down. Very hard on the shins and knees.

About 3/4ths of the way down, Alan or Greg (can’t remember which) spotted a moose sow and a calf coming up the same ridge. They hadn’t seen us yet and we stood rock still. At that point they were a couple of hundred yards away. We stopped and watched them on their way up. The Mother spotted us and walked perpendicular to the baby as if to shield it. She watched us standing there and cautiously continued up. Moose can be very dangerous. They are sometimes considered more dangerous than bears due to their charging at a moments notice. We moved off the ridge about 10 yards and let them come right up. They watched us as they slowly made their way up the ridge. Guess they were used to people or maybe they didn’t care. Regardless, we had made contact with wild animals. The experience was thrilling. No zoo bars or fences to keep us apart. Just 30 feet or so. Awesome!

 Mom and Baby – Almost close enough to pet. On Stony Ridge Dome.

The Mom and Baby went on their way as we watched. As soon as they were out of sight, we continued on. The trek down was quiet. Everyone was tired. We continued down the ridge until it flattened out on the foothills. Made our way down the foothills and then back onto the ice-covered creek. Mosquitoes swarmed again as if they had been missing us for a while. Again – no bites. We stumbled out of the canyon and headed for the road. Once there, a guardrail attached to a bridge over the creek provided us with a seat. We sat and waited for the bus. Each one of us exhausted, quiet, and reflected back on the climb of a lifetime for 2 old, out of shape men and a teenager. What a hike.

A bus came along about 5 minutes after we got to the road. They picked us up and we collapsed into the seats. None of us spoke much. I think that Alan even slept a little on the way back to the campground. On way back, we did get treated to the sight of a Grizzle and cub chasing after a herd of Caribou. Didn’t catch any, but sure did try.

We made it back to the RV, fixed some sausages, nursed our aches and pains with some beer for me, tequila for Greg and coke for Alan and watched “Goodfellas”. Went to bed thinking that night of the hike and how much moss hurts(inside joke).

June 12th - We slept in this morning. The latest we had slept the entire time we had been here – 8 am. Cooked a hardy breakfast of bacon and eggs. The day was beautiful. Sun was out, birds were chirping, and it was pretty warm. After getting breakfast squared away and taking our morning constitutions, we packed lunches and again headed for the bus stop. Destination for today – WonderLake. WonderLake was at the end of the road cutting through Denali. It was a little less than 100 miles from where we were.

On the bus, we tried to spot everything that we had seen the day before, but we couldn’t. It seemed as if we had never been on this road before. Everything looked different. “Remember this or that?”- we couldn’t. The only place that we recognized was where the driver left us the day before. Other than that – it was a whole new adventure.

Denali! The old man was out today. It has been said that only 20% of all visitors to Denali ever see the old man. Words can’t truly describe Denali. The huge mountain rose above us to a grandeur height of 27000+ feet. Clouds swirled around the midway point of the mountain and the snow-capped peaks cut into the blue sky. We were about 75 miles away, but it looked as though you could reach out and touch the foothills. Our bus driver pulled over to let people take pictures of each other in front of his majesty. Greg, Alan, and I did the same, but we also stood there and stared. I believe the same thoughts ran through our heads at that time – “How did I ever get here?” and “Thank you God for allowing me to see this sight”. At least those were my thoughts.

The bus we were on would take us as far the EielsonVisitorCenter a little more than half way into the park from the park entrance. On the way, Dall Sheep, standing on the cliffs right above us, entertained us. They looked like statutes, not moving at all. Looking down at us from what appeared to be an invisible ledge. Don’t know how or why they didn’t fall right on to the bus. A wolverine peered down at the Dall Sheep from another ledge higher up. You could barely see his head as it poked over the edge. It was as if he was watching the sheep watch us. Very surreal. We saw grizzly (2) in the distance but they were too far away to take any pictures.

EielsonVisitorCenter was pretty much the last stop for everyone. The center was situated at the mid-point between the bottom of a mountain foothill and a valley that stretched towards Denali. There was a little gift shop, a ranger station, picnic tables and a path that went on either side of the road. Most folks came as couples and walked hand in hand along the gravel path. They were ‘hikers’ – yeah right. They were people content with staying on a bus and being shown everything. This was probably the most they had ever ventured out. We, on the other hand, had already been in the backcountry and though we weren’t the ‘Grizzly Adams’ type, we had more of a claim to that title than these people. We took in the sights from Eielson. We ‘ooh’d and ‘ahh’d at the earthquake seismograph that had recorded the 6.7 earthquake in October of 2002. Little did we know that this area would experience its greatest quake in 150 years in November of 2003 – a few short months after our visit. We ate our lunch and took plenty of pictures. This day, we were visitors on a tour bus and that was all right by us. My feet were beginning to feel the effects of the previous days nature hike.

 Men with horns. Alan and I horsing around with Caribou antlers at Eielson.

We had to wait awhile for the bus to WonderLake. Only two buses went that far everyday and we were in-between buses. For most, this was the end of the line. But we wanted to see WonderLake. The lake that reflected Denali in all the travel brochures. The lake that Forrest Gump ran by while he was on his running kick. The bus finally arrived and the three of us got on for the rest of the trip. To our surprise, there were only 3 other people on the bus – an older couple (Q-Tips as Alan called them) and the driver. The driver was very odd. Instead of pointing out all the features of the land and most of the animals, he pointed out birds. He was a bird fanatic and would slow or stop the bus when he saw an “interesting bird”. I’m not talking Eagles or other birds of prey either. The ride to the lake was quiet. I think that was because we were all holding our breath while this guy drove us around hairpin curves while watching out for his birds. The trip was pretty much uneventful. The driver finally started talking about the area. Kettle ponds were everywhere. Kettle ponds are ponds that were formed by receding ice masses that left impressions in the ground. These ponds are filled strictly from melted ice. There are no natural springs feeding these ponds and no fish live in them. Beavers love them however. We saw Beaver lodges and Beaver dams everywhere. In the distance was what looked like foothills running towards the mountains. Actually the landmass that we were looking at was nothing (I say nothing like it was nothing – but that is not true – everything in Alaska is something) but ice. The driver said that the ice was from a nearby glacier and that over time wind had kicked soil and seeds onto the ice. The seeds took root in the soil and things grew from there. So really it was grass-covered ice. If you dug about 5 feet down, the driver said, you would hit ice. Amazing!

At the end of the road was WonderLake. Trees surround WonderLake. And the bus stopped about a ¼ mile away from the shore. The driver informed us that we couldn’t get within 25 yards of the shoreline due to a nesting of birds that were endangered. We got out and took some pictures from where we could, but most of the time (which was about a ½ hour) we stayed on the bus because of the swarms of mosquitoes. The lake was beautiful, but now we know why it is called WonderLake. We wondered why in the world we had come out this far only to have to stay away from its shore. Now I have always said that only park buses were allowed on this road, but that is not entirely true. At one time, Denali wasn’t as big as it is now and a family owned a good deal of land on the West edge of the park. They had opened an exclusive lodge there. When the park service expanded the park, the lodge was in the way. So to solve this problem, the park service allowed the family to continue to own and run the lodge. So only park buses and lodge buses were allowed on the road.

We all climbed back on the bus and found that we had picked up a few more passengers. A couple and another guy got on. All 3 had been camping for the weekend in the backcountry – and they looked and smelled like they had too. The couple was German I believe and the other guy – I don’t know what he was. He looked a little crazy. Kept our eye on him and his big buck knife.

The driver had noticed on the way to the lake a line of ranger jeeps and trucks by the side of the road unattended. When we came back by there was a lot of activity around the vehicles. We stopped and the driver talked to a ranger. The ranger informed him that a group of climbers had just come down from Denali and had made their way to the road. We looked out the windows and saw a group of men and all of their equipment. The ranger asked if we could pick the group up and take them to the park entrance. The driver agreed and the guys piled all of their equipment in the back of the bus. The leader of the group informed us that they had been out hiking and climbing Denali for the past 24 days! For the past two days they had been hiking with all of their gear on their backs for 25 miles. They talked amongst themselves about the trip and it was truly exciting to hear. Out of the 22000 that had tried to climb Denali, only 7700 had successful stories. Either the others turned around and came back, were brought down deceased, or were left up on the mountain – forever part of Denali’s landscape. The climbers had all of their gear in the back of the bus- gear that included what looked like sleds. These ‘sleds’ weren’t for quick exits off of the mountain, but to carry the inured or dead down. Fortunately, the sleds were empty. The trip back was longggggg and although the stories these guys were telling were interesting(to say the least), they STUNK! Finally they drifted off to sleep and so did I.

WonderLake. We wondered why we came here. To get the reflection of Denali could only be taken from the opposite side.

Once we got back to camp, we cooked spaghetti and rested around the campfire. Now camping is great when you have a campfire, but in Alaska in June, having campfires at night is pointless. The sun stays up almost all night long. We had one anyway. Greg and I enjoyed massive amounts of beer and were entertained by Alan and his guitar. We finally decided to go to bed around midnight. Tomorrow we would leave Denali. I don’t think that I will ever be able to look at landscapes again. I don’t think that anything would compare.

 Alan serenading the mosquitoes by the fire at 9 or 10 at night.

June 13th – Woke up early to another beautiful but sorrowful morning. We were leaving Denali. We scurried around and broke camp. On the way out of the park, we stopped at one of the other RV allowed campgrounds. This one was fully functional. We stopped to take a shower and to dump both our tanks and the RV’s tanks. Not knowing the campground, Greg and I sent Alan in to scope out the showers. His report? Everything was good to go. Just walk in and take one. Wrong. Greg and Alan headed off to the showers leaving me there for whatever reason (I truly can’t remember why, but that was the order of the showers – I promise). Soon Alan came back and told me that there were a couple of stalls left. I gathered up my stuff and headed out. Several men were in the shower room and I knew that Greg was taking his. I found a stall, locked the door, and showered. Leaving the shower room, I stopped in for some coffee at the little camp store. A man in front of me was complaining that his shower had been hijacked. Hijacked? It was then that I realized that – the 3 of us were ‘shower squatters’. The showers cost money. You needed a key to get in and once the door shut it locked. We found a shower that was open, climbed in, showered, and left. Oops. We left as soon as we could.

On the way out of the park (all of us hating to go, glad to get a shower, but still hating to go), a moose and twin calves blocked the road. Walking casually down the road, the momma seemed proud that people were stopping and watching them go on their morning stroll. I imagine that if you hit one of those things, there wouldn’t be much of your car left. One moose we saw must have been 8 foot high from ground to shoulder and then add another 3 to 4 feet for the antlers! We watched as they continued their stroll, made the right out of the park, and headed on our way.

 Proud Momma Moose and twin calves- out for a morning stroll in Denali

We headed south on the George Parks Highway (highway number 3 – I think we rode on all their paved roads) towards Cantwell. At Cantwell we stopped for some gas and snacks. The gas station was practically empty except for the cashier who looked like a cross between Grizzly Adams and Charles Manson. The store was pretty bare. Lots of jerky and that was about it. Must have been a pretty exclusive store – the shelves were all bare and the prices really high. People must come from miles around to buy from this guy. We loaded up our expensive items, topped off the tank and headed into ‘town(?)’. Cantwell’s downtown resembled a ghost town. Mobile homes were here and there and spread far apart. A home(?), building(?), storage shed(?), box(?) stood in the middle of the town. Draped across the windows was an American flag and a Vietnam MIA flag. This guy definitely wanted to get away from the lower 48. Probably not too stable either. I wouldn’t want to be caught here at night. Train tracks crossed through the town, but I don’t think they ever stopped. No traffic, no people, really eerie. Could have been a setting for a Stephen King novel.

We turned the truck around and headed east. The Cantwell Gas and Feed was at the intersection of Highway 3 and Denali Highway (our destination). About 5 miles down the Denali Highway the road gave way to what we wanted, dirt. Denali Highway is about 150 miles of dirt highway. We stopped and got as prepared as we could. Stuffing things away and getting ready for the bumpy ride.

 Beginning of Denali Highway. 150 miles of dirt road and adventure!

The Denali Highway can be hard on a vehicle. Drivers should always be prepared with an extra tire or two. There are no gas stations except at the beginning and at the end of the highway. There is no law to set up speed traps or offer assistance. There were a few (about 5) hunting or fishing lodges. Each had a set of cabins, but for the most part, they looked empty. Maybe it wasn’t hunting season. A house usually consisted of an old truck, a snow plow, set of snow mobiles, miles of firewood, and a run for the dogs that would transport their owner in the winter. The road is closed to cars and trucks in the winter, but open to snow mobiles and mush teams. The trip provided a marvelous view of mountain passes. To the South would be a hillside; to our North would be lakes, marshes, tundra, and mountains. We stopped so that I could chase another moose and run the risk of being trampled by a pissed off sow. I chased that animal into the woods and then lost complete sight. Back in the truck.

We drove at a lightning pace of about 15 miles per hour on average. Couldn’t go much faster and really didn’t want to. We had the road to ourselves for the most part. A couple of RV’s passed us and so did some trucks, but that was about it.

We traveled on and enjoyed the scenery. About 10 miles from the end of the road, came across a free campground. No utilities or any other conveniences, but it was situated on a raging river and we were tired. I cooked bacon and Greg cooked eggs. We ate around a fire and then went to bed. Slept soundly. Seems we are getting used to the light at night.

June 14th – We got up around 7 that morning. It was going to be a long hard day of driving. We were headed back to Anchorage. Wasn’t too much stuff to have to put away so we were driving fairly early. We headed back West on the highway in search of a hunting lodge we saw the day before advertising breakfast. No one in the place but the owner and her family. They lived there and you could see the kids coming out of bedrooms running to the bathrooms. The family dogs joined us in the dining area. No food inspector out here. The restaurant also sold souvenirs. Most notably – pelts. There were wolf, beaver, and other pelts hanging on a hook. All costing about $300 to start. We talked with our waitress for a while and found that we were smack dab in the middle of moose, wolf, AND bear country! The lady told us that you usually see everything but the wolves. At night though, she said you could hear them. We talked about where we were all from. Telling her our stories of snow, she informed us that the schools don’t close until the snow gets over 8 feet! Our portions were huge. Pancakes, sausage (they had reindeer sausage, but none of us tried it), biscuits, eggs, juice, and coffee. After filling up on breakfast and coffee, it was time to hit the road.

Heading East, we basically were saying, “Goodbye,” to our mountains (Yes - they were now OUR mountains) turning our backs and headed away. The road had become level now and we hit pavement shortly after leaving the lodge.

Ten miles later, we were at the intersection of Denali Highway and Richardson Highway (Highway 4). Filling up with gas, we headed South towards Paxson and Glennallen. The Trans-Alaskan Pipeline was to our left. We stopped and were going to get as close as we could to it, but the mosquitoes and the dense woods made us think twice. We followed the pipeline to Glennallen until we turned right and headed West to Anchorage.

It started to rain the closer we got to the town of Palmer. We stopped to look at glaciers and not much else. Traffic got backed up as we headed into the TalkeetnaMountains due to heavy construction. The ride around the cliffs was very nerve wracking. The construction was occurring on the mountains side. The road was between the mountainside and steep cliffs falling into rivers below. Men with cranes and bulldozers worked in the rain. The road at times was only one lane. Rocks tumbled down onto the highway frequently. Some of the rocks still lay in the road when we passed by. Finally, we made it out of the construction and continued our way towards Palmer.

Once in Palmer, we detoured North to Hatcher’s Pass, a pass through the mountains was at the top. Rivers cascaded down right next to us as we drove up more than 4500 feet. The pavement again turned to gravel and wound around and around. At the top, we found that the Pass was closed due to snow covering the road. We were disappointed. Hatcher’s Pass was the only place that we couldn’t get to on our adventure. An old gold mine was the turnaround point for us. We headed back down the way we came and it started to rain once again. Making a right onto Glenn Highway (Highway 1) we pointed the truck in the direction of Anchorage.

Traffic picked up and the rain let up a little as we made our way into Anchorage. Stopping to eat at a Pizza Hut, we reflected on our trip and where we were going to spend the night. We actually found a very nice campground outside of an Air Force Base and settled in for the night. “Austin Powers,” was the movie of the night. Packing was also on the agenda. We slept and it rained.

June 15th – Father’s Day. The three of us rose around 7 and finished packing. We were all ready to go home. Alan missed Mom, Greg missed Diane and the kids, and I missed Bec. A long time without seeing her and wishing that she had come with us. Glad in the end that she didn’t – this was Man’s time.

Leaving the park, we stopped at a Denny’s for another huge breakfast. It was going to be a long day. After breakfast, we took the RV home. The adventure was basically over. Dan, an employee of ABC RV Rentals, shuttled us to a mall. We shopped around there for a while and took in a movie. “The Matrix,” I think it was. I wasn’t too impressed. We spent a lot of time at Barnes and Noble, drinking coffee and looking at books. We also spent some time in CircuitCity – can you tell what we’re doing? Killing time before our flight. Dan came back for us, picked up our luggage and delivered us to the airport. Sure wasn’t as fun leaving as it was coming in.

The flight back was quiet. Greg and Alan sat together and some girl from somewhere sat next to me. Cute, but talked a lot. She was visiting a friend in Anchorage. First time there and never left the city. Just hung out with her friend and didn’t do much. Blah, blah, blah. “Go to Alaska when you’re old,” kept running over and over in my mind. From my window seat I could see the tops of mountains, glaciers, ribbon rivers and kettle ponds. Different from up here, but beautiful nonetheless. After a couple of gin and tonics and Tylenol PMs, I slept for most of the flight home.

Our flight landed in Detroit around 5 AM I think. We spent a few hours there drinking coffee and eating stale muffins before splitting up and heading home. The three of us stood there, shook hands, hugged and were off to our respective flights. Now everything was a memory.

Alan and I got into Memphis around 8 AM. Becky picked us up; happy to see us but proclaiming that we were to take showers right away.




Retrospect -
“Go to Alaska when you’re old.” A statement that I agree and disagree with. Yes it is true that the Grand Canyon will now probably be just a big hole and the Smokies just some hills, but it is also true that when you’re a little younger, you can get off the bus, tour the outside, and adventure on the wilder side rather than from the comfort of a cruise ship cabin or hotel. Alan enjoyed the trip. A ‘coming of age’ for him. Being one of the guys and not just the kid we knew at home. He grew up a little bit. I don’t think that he ever knew that this country could yield such beauty, he knows now.

In the beginning, the trip was Greg’s idea. It took a great deal of time, planning, and tough decisions to make this trip. Both of us were committed to make this trip exciting and memorable – we succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. Both of us counted down the days. People still can’t believe that I took this trip. They think Alaska – how nice to go on a cruise up there. Not being able to fathom the trip that we embarked on. Taking a 24-foot RV into the heart of Alaska. Sleeping basically under the sun (more romantic to say stars, but so untrue), chasing wildlife, walking on ice so thick you could drive on it, climbing to heights that we never thought we would make – testing our endurance, and fishing deep into the ocean on the same level with some of God’s most magnificent creatures –Humpback whales – yes this was an adventure.

Greg asked me earlier in the week to think of what may change me due to this trip. Nothing changed in me, it just came out. My want for exploring environmental beauty, need to experience a once in a life time adventure, more closeness with my son, and a chance for a Best Friends to continue to cement our lives together (I wouldn’t have wanted to with anyone else) – that’s what came out. I felt more at peace after the trip. I felt small and insignificant. I was/am in awe of this country’s greatest treasure last frontier and am sure that this country has more treasures for me to find.