Atlin, B.C.

As our friend Eric would say, Atlin has seen some shit.  It has been a gold mining town (population at least 5,000), an off the beaten path tourist destination for rich folks with them spending the night in a grand lodge, and then a virtual ghost town all before the mid 1930s. That was when the depression hit and suddenly there was a shortage of tourists willing to take a train to Whitehorse and then a series of boats to the “Switzerland of the North.” Atlin was reconnected to the outside world in 1951 via a 60-mile gravel road extending from the Alaskan Highway. When Corey and I drove it in 2002 the road was pretty good but still mostly gravel. At the time we marveled at the nicely kept up frontier style buildings and wondered where all the people were. This time through the road was recently paved and felt a whole lot more connected to the outside world.  We also met a few residents. A lot of them are Americans and even more of them are artists. During the summer they live in the surrounding hillside then return home before winter comes. Those that do live year round (about 450) keep themselves stocked up. But the road is plowed and the winters are much milder in Atlin than they are in Whitehorse.  A lot of properties were for sale and we saw prices ranging from $65,000 (century old miner’s cabin without running water) to $1.2 million (a large solar and wind powered mansion that included a private lake).  An incredibly sleepy town, Atiln wakes up for one weekend in July when the Atlin Music Festival draws thousands of people.

Cold but beautiful Atlin Lake

The volunteered run campground is just $10 a night and paid on the honor system. Really a pretty site and close to a fast running stream where we filtered water for our morning coffee.

View from the short but very steep Monarch Mountain trail (6 KM round trip)

Atlin’s Warm Creek is partially fed by underground streams but is only a tad warmer than the average creek.

The mountain was not out during the stay but the wild flowers were.

Through our deft management of credit cards, we have amassed a pretty impressive amount of Marriott points. Last night we were hoping to cash some of them. But Fairbanks is as popular as it is expensive and the one Marriott property here was sold out. Seedy looking motels by the side of the road go for $100 a night and something like a Super Eight can go for $200. So we did what we do best and camped.

The Chena River Rec Area is an island of trees bordered by busy roads and strip malls. There is also a nearby runway so all night we were serenaded by trucks and odd assortment of bush planes and commercial jets. We could smell but not see the river and for the first time this trip the mosquitoes were out in full force. They really liked the damp area near the fire so Corey and I sipped our wine a good ten yards away while Henna read in the tent. It rained during the night which made the insects worse in the morning.

We were packed and in our car by eight and at a good diner before nine. In Tok we caught a nail in a wheel and were lucky to have it plugged a few miles later. Maybe 600 miles and several opinions later we decided to get new tires and I am writing you now from a tire shop. One of the people working here is from Bridgeport. He moved her in ’99 and when I asked him if he ever missed Chicago he said no and alluded to all the violence he hears about on television. He did not believe me when I tell him that Jefferson Park (a nearby neighborhood with about the same population as Fairbanks) probably has a lower crime rate than his adopted city. A very quick google search suggests I may be right.

By Denali standard this guy was pretty big and not someone I would want to mess with.

A little while later I met another former south sider also working in the same tire shop. He moved to Fairbanks ten years ago with his sister who was in the military. A very dignified and personable man, he has lived all over the U.S. and loves the mountains. But he has yet to visit Denali National Park or anywhere else outside of Fairbanks. When I asked him why he told me he has a bad sense of direction. He seemed surprised when I told him that there is only one road leading to the park meaning it would be impossible for him to get lost.

Moose are less predictable and maybe as dangerous as brown bears (especially when protecting their calves). Something to remember the next time you think of inviting one over for dinner.

So I sit typing away while Corey and Henna both read in the car. We hoped to be on the road by ten. It is past noon and we are still waiting for the tires to come from across town.  And we also need to visit the Verizon store in order to fix Corey’s phone. We hope to get to Chicken, Alaska tonight. The place is supposedly called Chicken because the first residents spotted a bunch of Ptarmigan but could not agree on how to pronounce them. So they went with what they taste like. Right now this seems to sum up the state.  

(note: shortly after writing that Corey told me she was taking a walk and then the tires came in and our car went up on the lift. In a panic I raced to the car afraid that Henna was still inside, oblivious to the car being serviced. She was not in the car and is assumedly with Corey on her walk).

Sow and her two cubs; photo taken along Denali Park Road on way to Eilson Visitor Center.

We waited out the rain for two days and then stayed another couple of day afterwards. Over those four days we saw sled dogs and took many hikes. Corey and Henna also discovered a love for mushrooms. We learned to love Denali even though we never spied “The Great One” while within the park. For me the most amazing thing about the park is being able to go from a spruce forest to taiga to tundra while traveling about 700 feet in altitude.

At Mount Healy Overlook

Corey looking out at overlook near Eilson Visitor Center

Corey and Henna by the Savage River

The shrooms grow big in Denali

An Arctic Squirrel or a “protein bar” as Grizzly’s like to call them

Caribou are common throughout Denali

Henna built this fort in Cantwell while camping there night before we went to Denali.

While hiking a wild Henna attacked me from behind. Luckily I was carrying Henna Spray.

Without rain there would be no rainbows. This one was taken somewhere between Anchorage and Cantwell.

Supposedly less than 3% of visitors to Denali actually see the mountain during their visit. We saw her a couple of times while driving from Anchorage to Cantwell but then not all over the five days/four nights we hung out at the park.

With winter temps of below 20 common and snow measured in feet, sled dogs are a necessity once winter begins.

Replica of the bus used for movie Into The Wild. In 1992 Christopher McCandless AKA Alex Supertramp died in similar bus near Healy, AK while trying to live off the land.

Been raining close to 24 straight hours and we are slowly running out of things to do. Our 2nd tent (or mess hall as I like to call it) has made camping a whole lot more bearable. And speaking of bears, the park service finally captured and then killed the one that had been bothering folks near Savage River. 14 years ago Corey and I camped in the Savage River Campground and would gladly do so again if it was not booked up. So instead we are at Riley Creek or mile one of park road. You can only actually drive 12 miles of the road with the other 70 completed by park bus.Rain or shine that is what we plan on doing tomorrow.

Bus is found at 49th State Brewery. Great ambience and beer but mediocre food.

Right now, while we wait out a bit of rain in Denali, I would like to give a shout out to one of Alaska’s finest public institutions; the Joint Library Consortium. The Joint Library Consortium is made up of a dozen or so libraries scattered from south east to central Alaska. While we are not able to take out books from the Park Ridge library (an easy one mile walk from our house ), we were able to get a library card in Sitka then take and return books over a span of about 2000 miles.

The library in Haines really reflect the character of the town; friendly, functional, and easy to access.

In visiting the libraries, we were able to satiate Henna’s bottomless book appetite while also gaining a better insight into whatever town we were in. So in Juneau we sat with over a dozen cruise ship workers many of whom were skyping loved ones. The library is on the top floor of a building next to the cruise ships and a look out a window brought you eye ball to eye ball with an older couple enjoying a fancy looking lunch. In Seward I overheard several pre-teen boys complain about having nothing to do. One suggested they go to the skate park (the same skate park near our campsite) and off they went. While updating our blog in Haines we observed several little kids being read to by the librarian. When she was done they lined up to get their hand stamped. And so on and so on. Sometimes it easy to forget that people live their lives in the same space we gawk at nature’s wonders. The libraries helped us remember.

Henna in Juneau

Besides being encircled by majestic beauty (snow capped mountains, waterfalls, glaciers, and sea), Valdez also has suffered two tragedies. The first occurred on Good Friday, 1964 when the second largest earthquake ever recorded destroyed the original townsite. The first shock wave ripped apart the town and the susequent tidal wave washed it all to sea. Over thirty Valdez residents died.

Almost immediately Valdez rebuilt on more stable ground. Old Valdez however still remains, a faint footprint in the muck.

On board the Alaska Marine Highway

I didn’t know my Dad all that well.  He was mostly a quiet and reserved person, but I do remember on hot summer nights sitting in the screen house trying to pry something of himself out of him.  He died before I had any real success with that.  But thinking about my relationship with my own father, I find it fascinating to watch Henna and Noel’s relationship grow as mine with my Dad never did.  During the school year, life tends to move very fast…with homework, stress, the pressing elections news cycle, social media…blah blah…I usually see the two of them flitter around each other in their own orbits.  This is especially true as Henna is getting older and becoming more woman like every day.  I tend to be the middle person for them, without them even knowing it.  Don’t get me wrong, these two are the exactly same person.  They both love to discuss, argue, read and digest information leaving me behind them.  So, being four weeks in to our journey, it is so wonderful to see Noel and Henna just being with each other and not in need of me to forge that bridge between them.  They are great friends I would say at this point in the trip.  Listening to them talk, chat, argue, debate, skip rocks, jump into all cold lakes, and just hang out makes my heart so very full and happy.  It tugs at my heart strings as I think of my Dad.  I may not have been given the same kind of relationship, but watching this one bloom and grow it enough for me in this life. 

Cold Water Club founders Noel and Henna at Auke Bay, Juneau

The incredibly shrinking Mendenhall Glacier

One of the joys of ferrying and camping around Alaska is the chance to meet actual Alaskans. Sometimes however there is a bit of a learning curve. For example, we have learned to ask “Where you born in Alaska?” instead of “Are you a native Alaskan?” The latter question, especially if poised to a friendly Asian couple, will likely lead to an awkward silence followed by a quick narrative of their ethnic history.

Taken along the Perseverance Trail in Juneau, AK

Other lessons learned include this region of Alaska (from Ketchikan to Skagway) is known as “South East,” to travel to the lower 48 is to go “south,” bears are a nuisance along the coast in part because hunters search out the big, healthy ones and not the garbage pickers that terrorize the town. Also, every Alaskan resident can shoot one bear every four years (and one tourist every ten years) but as many as they need to in order to defend property and life. However, no one takes advantage of this rule as it takes a lot more work than you would think to properly dispose of a bear. Skinning it alone might take all day. They also smell and taste horrible. Bears that is, not tourists.

One of the tastiest treats in all the Southeast

Exploring an ice cave at Mendenhall Glacier; this is a very risky thing to do and a risk maybe we should not have taken. Our route to the glacier was via the West Glacier Trail which starts as easy stroll and ends with a bit of rope and cable (as well as an incredibly narrow trail through dense bush).

Special shout out to our friends Tracy, Grace, Mac, Mara, and Eric who made our weekend in Juneau mighty special. We hope our paths cross again soon.

Our beautiful home for five nights- Starrigavan Recreation Area. 2nd tent was used as a kitchen shelter in case of rain but canopy so thick we did not really need it.

My grandfather also probably spent a bit longer in Sitka than he intended. In our case, it was the limited number of ferry crossings which kept us here five nights. For Grandpa Ruby, it was the realistic fear of Japan invading Sitka that kept his unit stationed here during World War II. I have a very limited idea of what his time in Sitka was actually like. I know from my father he did a bit of boxing. Mostly oranges. He loved that joke.

Slugs of every color and stripe in Sitka. This one looks white but probably is a Banana Slug.

Taken from Castle Hill where the Russians once oversaw their territory from a mighty nice mansion. Later the U.S. administered their new territory from same mansion. Mansion now gone. In background is St. Michael’s, America’s oldest Russian Orthodox Church (founded 1848). The original church burned down in the 1960s and was then promptly rebuilt. Much of Sitka’s Orthodox community are Tlingit whose ancestors converted several generations ago.

Swam a bit at the not so warm Heart Lake (1.3 miles with a gradual ascent). A bit of a doggie beach with many Sitka residents taking their canine there to cool off. Lake also has a communal row boat.

Sitka Library. T-Rex made by a local artist mostly with things washed ashore.

From library saw bald eagles fishing Silver Bay. Got a library card here and will be able to take out and drop off books all over coastal Alaska. Paperwork listed area to indicate your fishing vessel’s number as well as the captain’s name.

Fortress of the Bear- a rescue place situated in a converted pulp mill. This guy is a brown coastal bear- the only bear to be found in Sitka. Almost as large as the Kodiak, they are pretty leery of humans and eat a heck of a lot of salmon.

View from Mt. Verstovia- a very challenging 1.7 miles with a crazy 2000′ gain. Water is the Pacific, the surrounding mountains pretty much inaccessible.

Totem Hill National Park- a fun 20 acres of rain forest and nifty totem poles.

Food is pricey in Sitka. Mean Queens pizzeria/bar is a good option and has free pool. Henna hustled us good.