OUTBOUND!

July 29 departed Alaska at Fairbanks: day zero/mile zero OUTBOUND for home!


We stopped to fish in the Yukon for Arctic Grayling. Judd even put on his waders! We didn’t catch any, but they don’t call it “catching”—they call it fishing. We were just lamenting that we’d carried our  Maine Sugarloaf sticker all the way here and hadn’t left it for fellow east coast travelers to Alaska  to find....Then, at the 11th-not-dark-yet-30-hour, we found a place to place it!!!! The border! See it? With our camper in the background? It was raining but I dried off the board with my sleeve and posted it quickly,... worried that some Canadian border Mounty would accost me. We saw moose and black bear a few times on our way through the Yukon. Plan is for British Columbia and beyond tomorrow......

I get away with stuff too—the purloined photo.

Judd discovered a place on my phone to recover recently deleted photos! Here’s the one from my near-escape from the Post guards and my retirement gift.

Sheldon gets away with stuff

My best 4th grade German and my Federal offense

Without internet—blogging with two fingers on the phone—can’t tell what’s uploaded or not —good luck and forgive the spelling/formatting. Duplicate pics:



I had the best time in Denali, giving away our extra firewood. After the exhausting 9 hour day on and off the school bus, and the promise of “ 70% chance of rain” for Sunday, we decided to forfeit our 3rd night in Denali and decided to ready the camper for an early morning departure to  base-Riley-camp showers and resupply. SO, Sat.pm, I started around the camping loop with a bundle of wood we could not use: first stop— right next door—I came upon 3 girls, maybe 8, 10 and 12yo? And asked if their  parents were around. (I didn’t want to fuel [sic] the hopes of a campfire if their parents weren’t into it.)  While one sister went into find a parent, I discovered from the youngest they were from Switzerland and spoke Swiss-German. Ouch—that takes me out of my comfort zone. I took 4 years of High School French ( despite living in San Diego where you’d have thunk I’d have become fluent in Spanish.) I’m actually probably most fluent in Swahili, having lived in East Africa, and bargained for my potatoes at market, for two years as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Kenya. If I start a phrase in Spanish which I can’t finish, it comes out French or Swahili ( my bigger vocabularies.) But in 4-5th grade, I lived on an Army base in Illisheim, Germany—an hour from Nuremberg ( notable because THaTs on a map and had a big P. X (PX=Army talk for Post Exchange ie where Americans buy stuff when they live abroad.)

Anyway, the father came out, of course seamlessly bilingual like anyone not American, and asked if we had too much wood. I said yes—too much wood. So they accepted my meager bundle and I humbly accepted their thanks. After dinner, later, I was again out on the road to deliver my trash to the bear-proof bin before visiting the outhouse, the youngest daughter ran out from her campsite to meet me. I dredged up my 4th grade-Herr Schmidt-lessons. “Guten abend! Wie geht es?”  She gets me! She is shocked! So, after that ‘good evening; how are you?’ she says Gut ( =good) I say , “ ich  niche spreche kein  Deutsch”(I don’t speak German) yet she disagrees with me,  as she has clearly understood my massacre of her language. We stammer together on the dirt road, her 3rd grade English embarrassingly better than my 4th grade German—yet, with some pantomime, come to the understandings that, no, she has not seen a bear, but her mother has and  yes, she has seen a thing with antlers ? Moose? Caribou? She has 3 sisters and a brother and I have  1 daughter and 2 sons. The youngest sister looks expectantly for the eldest sister to come rescue our conversation—and her 8th grade English ‘Bernie’s’ my 4th grade German . (As possibly previously blogged, Judd and I don’t use the word, lower class, or do I mean lower case, trump for games any more. We play games ( hearts, whist)  where Bernies win over evil.)

Anyway. Now I learn they have flown from Zurich to Reykjavik to Anchorage and have 4 weeks “ in zee camper.” They are in a bigger-than-ours Adventurer. But come on, they are six, and a continent away from European civilization —they deserve it. We part with our grade school civilities—me: “Danke! Auf Wiedersehein “ and they with “Thank you. sleep well.”   I run home to tell Judd. He is happy I’m so excited.

And then today, I almost go to prison. We did ditch Denali a day early, forfeiting our right to drive on that long gravel road in the tundra wilderness with a view of the invisible mountain in the mist. We sighted one moose and one hare  upon our egress and made it to Fairbanks by 11:00. It rained on and off (mostly on) all day, so we staked out a campground at the State park early but went about touring the town by car. The North Pole was only 20 min away so we fell into the touristy trap for a bit—mostly for post cards I could have post marked North Pole. We believed Google and went to Internet cafes that had no internet yet we felt obliged to have soup or a bagel anyway. The rain persisted. We debated a movie but decided we could do that any ol’ Rainy day in Maine. We cruised 20 min north to the viewpoint for the Alaska pipeline and I took pics of Judd taking pics of engineering marvels. But we discovered Fairbanks is home to a large military fort: Fort Wainwright, named after the same WW II hero that is the namesake brother of Walla Walla VA (Veterans Administration) Medical Center where I just retired. We drove up to the entrance to have Judd take my pic out front for my Walla Walla colleagues, before I get my flip-flopped wet feet out of the rainy grass, two 20ish yo looking men, armed and in uniform come walking up briskly to say “no pictures allowed on Federal property.” I explain that I just retired from Wainwright VAMC  and wanted to send a pic back but they stand and watch me delete all two pics that Judd took off my cell phone. By the time we drove away. I found the retirement plaque work had given me— And I was dying to go back and show the guards, but by then, Judd and I were well on our way to Silver Gulch-/ not much silver, but the Alaskan hush puppies and beer flight were amnesiacs. I forgot how annoyed I was at Ft. Wainwright—we didn’t get this doo-doo in Pasadena—-NASA and JPL let us take our pic with Sheldon by their signs!

We’re in the top 70%

We just “did” the Denali National Park. It takes some logistics but Judd had done all the research. We had campground reservations for July 26-28–once you check in and get a driving pass to use the one way road into the park, you cannot drive out. You’re supposed to set up camp and stay put. We had done the Visitor Center the day before and camped outside the park at an awful RV park with traffic noises all night long—not even worth the hot showers. WithIN the pristine wilderness park, 29 miles from the gate at Teklanika Campground, we expected tranquility to only be disturbed by snarfling  bear or moose. We were mistaken. 

Weather permitting, we cook outside at the picnic bench on our luxurious 2- burner Coleman stove. Judd was sautéing onions and garlic so we could rewarm and re-spice the fresh salmon from our coast time. He added summer squash and carrots in stages and still had a burner for the tea kettle ( be it for tea or washing-up water.) We’d finished dinner and chores just as we saw a ranger walking to the amphitheater. Checking the schedule, we saw we were on time for the 7:30 Ranger talk,  Annette was professional yet perky, clearly excited to tell us what inspires her about working in the wilderness and to educate us about animal safety. Judd and I had already watched the Visitor Center movie on how to be “bear aware.” We know how to identify a black bear from a brown bear (ie. grizzly) despite all their colors ranging from blond to beige to dark brown/black. We know when to wave arms and stand our ground and when to lie on our stomachs and protect our spines with our backpacks. In fact, I’ve been rehearsing my calming-confront -a-bear-speech: “ I am the mother-of-foxes! You will slowly back away as will I or I shall soil myself.”  I have not had to use my speech yet, but we’re not out of the Pacific Northwest either.

We were disappointed by the number of massive RVs, with so many amenities, who feel the need to turn on their generators for hours, Yes, the park limits the hours, but really? We saw, on our loop walk, that one camper’s external generator was so obnoxious, he moved it closer to his neighbor ‘s site to charge up. When the Ranger’s program asked what questions we had about the park, I wrote on the white board, “why are generators allowed?”

Day 2, we took  a green camp bus at precisely 9:55. Buses, green or brown, had been coming up from mile zero since 6am—about a bus every 30 min. You can jump on and off, if there’s capacity at your chosen stop. We opted for a guaranteed seat, all the he way to the end of the road—mile 96 of the gravel road. We did start our leg of the journey with  at least three 2-year-olds. The twin girls, in different aisles with different grandparents, sang songs to each other or themselves, getting louder as the bus narrator got louder. The little British boy, who had toddled around the bus stop trying to give the girls the dusty rocks he was harvesting, made a low hum every time we went over a washboard section of gravel road. This turned his voice into a vibratory solo which surpassed the girls cuteness. He gave himself the giggles, then his parents, who looked like a young Colin Firth married  Megan Markel, then Judd the giggles. All the families got off at the Eielson Visitor Center leaving our entertainment to the occasional wildlife siting and the bus narrator.

They said to plan on a 12 hour tour— bring your own food and water. We cut off 3hours by not starting until mike 29z The bus stopped about every 30-40 min at either s Rest stop or visitor site, At every stop. Our driver gave the same spiel ( granted, new people boarded at every stop.).   
In a deadpan, monotone? With ironic emphasis? The narrator (also the driver) would say,  “THANK you for using your seat.......and seat belt, Your seat belt.....seat.....belt “  under his breath? “I don’t have to do this.”
“If you talk MORE, I talk less.””  “This bus will leave the rest stop at 12:10......12:10.....12;10......if you are late for this bus, you will be early for the next bus; early for the next bus. Buses don’t wait for people; people wait for buses.”     He reiterated,  EVERY time we stopped.....we knew his rules better than he did. Back a week ago, after  a glacier hike, we’d met a guy, Tim, who had already done the Denali bus tour deal, (He also knows the Elliott’s of Pleasant Pond,  Maine.) He’d told us to try to get Omar for our driver—we longed, for a moment, for Omar the driver, At the next stop,  come to discover, our quirky guy IS Omar. We did warm up to his style and he did show us a good time (AND did not roll over the bus.) By a good time, he spotted? Or paused when someone else spotted: moose,Dahl sheep ( tiny white dots high up in the crevices), Grizzly mom with two cubs TIMES 3 sightings! caribou, Caribou, caribou, a fox, ptarmigan, many hare squirrels and maybe a pika. Judd spotted something on a cliff above us— Everyone was craning their necks to spot—he believed it to be a goat about to jump on the bus, Indiana Jones-style.

 What we did NOT spot? Was Denali “the great one” peak.We’re in the top 70%. (They say about 30%  of visitors see the peak during their stay. We have very vivid imaginations so we’re all good, 

Pre-Denali

Looking for 2nights camping near the National Park entrance. We have 3days reserved in the park thereafter. Here’s the weather prediction—we’ll make the best of it.

Salmon, seriously!

The Lu Lu Belle in Valdez harbor

In Valdez, we took a wildlife/glacier cruise on the Lu Lu Belle. Captain Fred has been taking his boat out for about 40 years. The Lu Lu Belle is described as”well appointed “—indeed, Fred personally takes your boarding pass and asks that you clean your shoes to preserve his Persian carpets, and the inside cabin really has gorgeous rugs in a warm compartment. Judd and I opted to sit outside so we could quickly run to whichever side of the boat had a dolphin or whale or raft of otters. All morning long, the two mates in the galley would waft out smells of hot brewed coffee or just-baked muffins from the snack bar. We brought our own lunch so resisted for a while.

Captain Fred came through. He narrated, almost non-stop, for 9 hours,  all the history of the area, the earthquake that destroyed old Valdez and why the town was rebuilt nearby; the spot where the Valdez oil spill occurred. Passengers conjectured that it must be recording, and then we’d zoom right or left so Fred could point out some seals or otters in real time. We had s bit of excitement when the Coast Guard pulled us over. The Guard wanted to point out to our captain that, despite the fog, he had veered too close to the pipleline perimeter while trying to get us lined up to see the adorable otters. 

The wildlife included puffins, stellar sea lions, otters, dolphins and Judd and I think we saw the only orca (in the distance, and no one else saw it.)  But we were most impressed with the glaciers. Fred got us to the edge of the Columbia Glacier and we couldn't believe he was still driving through ice.  Then he would get closer. We saw/heard the glacier calving into the ocean. We wore every layer of clothes we'd brought and we could play outside while half the passengers never left the cabin. Two people on the trip were the Canadians we'd met at a campground over a week ago in Inuvik. We took their couple pictures and they took ours and we shared later.

The other sight of the trip was the salmon fishing. We observed a fishing vessel purse-seine fishing.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JUKvrfaslM A little boat makes a circle and drops the floats holding up the net.  The bigger boat gussies up the "purse," closing the fish in the nets and bringing the massive catch on board. Our ship's mates ran down and delivered home made brownies to the fishing crew so they don't get annoyed we're hovering around. 

Before leaving Valdez, Judd and I visited the fish hatchery.  It was similar to where Kelcy worked for a season. We watched a zillion pink salmon trying to swim upstream over the fish ladder. Judd was captivated by the engineering. I was dazzled by the biology and ecology of it all. The workers anesthetize the fish and then separate the male from female at long metal work benches.  The workers harvest the eggs from the females and the milt from the males, mix the ingredients in a bucket and grow tiny salmon in tanks, protected until they can be released back to the ocean. Some species are protected for up to two years before they're released. Kelcy reminded us that two years ago when he worked at a hatchery in Prince William Sound, he caught a salmon with his bare hands. The fish are so plentiful and determined as they swim upstream to spawn, they ignore all dangers: bears, sea lions, gulls--think they're at an all you can eat salmon dinner. I'm sure a single Kelcy could score at least one fish. We could have if we had a fishing license.

Tonight we opted for a hotel vacation (and glad we did as it rained all day in Seward.) We took the chance to do laundry, wish for rapid internet, and get caught up on the news! It's still pretty light pretty late, so we still camp with dark-out eye masks modeled here, by Judd and Sheldon.

Judd near the Columbia Glacier (we got closer!)

Sea otters on ice (although we saw plenty just sleeping on their backs in the water)

a big haul of salmon 

Salmon swimming and leaping upstream to spawn

Coast Guard asking to speak with the Captain

Rocks in my pockets

The morning we awoke in the Wayside Rest Station, we were able to see the massive Mt Drum ( invisible the night before— the view had cleared overnight.) I figured that some of my sore muscles were, not just from the longer-than-usual hike yesterday, but the fact that my pockets had many stones in them. Since we’d admired the Inukshuks in Canada, I was determined to build my own in my Maine garden. So I’ve been squirreling away rectangular and square shaped rocks in the correct proportions. We were reminded of carrying little Ryley up Pleasant Pond Mountain and getting him home to find his pockets full of “favorite rocks.”

The Inukshuk is a pile of stones shaped like a human—it represents community, safety, a harbor in Arctic elements. Contrast instead, what I found while swimming in Lake Loise, AK—is this what we leave our future generations? Do they even know what it is? Do you?

Wrangell-St.Elias

This National Park is as big as the country of Switzerland ( and with bigger peaks—a glacier the size of Rhode Island. It includes two mountain ranges, one the size of the state of Connecticut. We got a hot tip from the Visitor Center Ranger about where to walk on a Glacier.  It was down the 21 mile gravel road. We were inspired by the white tipped mountains in every direction—all600-8000 ft. We were pleased that, compared to where we were in Canada, there were only tiny hoards of tiny mosquitoes here and they were too feeble to weather the wind. So we had a nice camp at Park wayside (one site with a picnic bench and pit toilet.FREE. And then in the morning when it was even clearer, we spotted the 12,000 foot peaks of Mt Drum snd Mt Wrangell — they just continued for our 4 hour drive down the 60 mile dirt road the next day. This was an optional side trip. I told Judd I was about done with gravel and the potential for more flats out on roads less travelled and with even less cell service. But this road terminated where we could walk on a Glacier so I say “fine” on that wifely way that means I’m not very excited about it. Judd admits it was the worst washboard of a road he’s ever seen. The posted limit is 35 mph but we barely got to 10 mph on some good spots. Most of it was 5 mph and expletives. I even suspended our audio book because it was too hard to hear.

Again, with only one campsite at the terminus, I start to worry whether there will be availability. I get a dit hangry when we’re still driving at 6pm and still have to make camp and cook dinner.  We arrived at “Base Camp” and were dumbstruck again by the view—Alps-like in the still bright sunset sunlight. An outhouse with a view! Plenty of availability. The
Nabesna Road off the McCarthy Road deadends at the Copper River. In the morning we journeyed on over the foot bridge where a shuttle ( pricey! Must be a short tourist season) will take you 2miles south to the town of McCarthy or 5miles north to the National Historic site of Kennicott—a behemoth ghosted copper mine camp. We’re both celebrating a bit of retirement arthritis in various body parts and, despite each of our Physical Therapy exercise-band regimes, it required some vitamin I (ibuprofen) and 4 walking sticks to get us through the self guided tour and onto the 2mile trek to Root Glacier.

Engineer Judd was in old-machine-heaven again. The fact that someone designed, planned, carried out the calculations ( no calculator or computer)to get a railroad up this remotely to haul all manner of machines and amenities to house 60 workers through the Alaskan winter just to mine some shiny rocks called copper. In 1911. And then it was all abandoned by 1938. We saw the wooden trestle and vestiges of the old railway. We just kept shaking our heads.

But my favorite day of the trip to date was getting to the Glacier. We passed bizarre hills of black and brown all along the valley and wondered if they were some man made debris as a result of the mining. Nearer the obvious white of the confluence of the Kennicott and Root Glacier we finally figured out that the black and brown was the moraine on top of the Glacier.(..rocks and dirt scraped off the mountains by the ice sliding down the valley.)  We’d heard noises out on the piles and wondered what kind of animal would be out there. It turned out not to be animals but when the melting ice caused crevices to open and the dirt and rock would fall in little mini avalanches. I was glad it was below us. I haven’t scheduled time to worry about getting crashed by an avalanche yet.

A few groups and couples had hiked passed us and were putting on their crampons when we hit the end of the trail. We did not bring our yak-Trax. Judd braves his way right up the hill in his hiking boots. He assured me it was like walking on my sanded icy driveway in Maine. I assured him that I never liked walking on my sanded icy driveway. I got a tiny bit up on the dirty ice. I got my picture on s Glacier. Judd hiked a bit further. He wanted to stand barefoot on a Glacier. He did. I don’t know what I see in this man.

We decided to drive 2/3s of the horrible washboard road that evening. We boondocked at a Park rest stop—a brand new pit latrine, a picnic bench and a hot shower. Yep—Judd turned on the hot water heater and hooked up the outdoor hose. We did worry a little that ANYone using the road could stop to use the latrine but at 8pm we weren’t that worried.
It was a very good day.

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