Traveling through Alaska was filled with intrigue. As none of the four of us had ever been here before, we didn’t know what to expect as we left one geographic area and headed to another. After leaving Bass Pro, we headed south of Anchorage for the first time of our trip, and eagerly kept our noses pressed to the windows to see what landforms we would encounter next.
The ocean came at us much sooner than I expected, with mountains rising straight out of its depths. We followed along the coast, winding around craggy cliffs and muddy flats, and even found the train snaking around the same path. We must have been traveling during low tide, as the water was a good ways out, but we could see evidence (mostly mud!) that it had recently been very near the road. We passed little in the way of civilization, lending the land an eerie and empty beauty.
While kept driving, the landscape changed yet again as neared the Chugach National Forest. Trees became plentiful once again, and we left the coastline and reentered the forest. Despite the beauty of the remote coast, my woods loving soul felt relief once we were back in the bush. We began to see streams fed by snow melt coming down the mountain, and even paths gauged out by glacier movement. Snow became more plentiful as the road took us higher in elevation and back up the mountains. We saw more signs for creeks, and even began to cross over rivers again. My beloved white spruces grew more plentiful, and all we could do was gape in amazement.
The Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center in Portage provided a nice rest stop about midways for our trip down the peninsula, and gave us all a chance to get out and stretch our legs and view some of Alaska’s critters up close and personal. This 200 acre sanctuary hosts injured and orphaned wildlife in natural habitats, and allows visitors such as us an opportunity to see this animals as close as “in the wild” as we can safely get. The center offers a shuttle tour around the facility with your admission fee, but we just missed one bus, and didn’t want to wait the two hours for the next one leaving out, so we chose the self guided tour.
When we first arrived at the center, I was shocked to step out of the vehicle. I’d not been out of it since Anchorage, where Brinn had walked around comfortably in shorts, teeshirt, and sandals. Portage and Anchorage clearly did not share weather patterns. After we all went in the gift shop to use the restroom, I returned to the Sequoia to add a pair of leggings under my jeans and pile on a couple of sweaters under my coat. I grabbed Ian’s coat as well, and then we were ready to meet the animals.
The caribou were cool, and came right up to the fence to greet us, but after our experience in Palmer, we weren’t nearly as impressed as we would have been otherwise. Brinn enjoyed seeing the adult moose and elk, while I found the eagle to be pretty striking. Little did I know that I had a much more imposing eagle experience in store for this trip. Just as Ian and I finished with the eagle, the staff announced feeding time for the Lynx, so we shuffled over to observe the female lynx come out of her house and climb around her pen to snag some snacks. I fully appreciated her anatomy and decided I am just fine never meeting her in the wild.
We saw black bears in Tennessee all the time, so we didn’t spend very much time with their exhibit, but instead made the hike out to the grizzly area. None of the brown bears were very close to the observation point, so we weren’t able to see any clearly, but Grandpoppa saved the day with his camera lenses. The bison were a bit easier to see from the road, but again, we see them grazing on Dodson Branch Highway often enough at home that we didn’t need to devote a lot of time to them. The musk ox were a new species for us, so we did observe them a bit longer.
Most of the nocturnal animals were hiding from the daylight hours inside a large barn, so we wondered in to check out some owls and foxes. Ian grew bored inside, so we ventured back outside to go check out the porcupine exhibit. Holy moly, I never expected the smell! We have our own menagerie of critters at home, so I feel fairly tolerant, and desensitized to the odors of most animals and their droppings, but porcupines have a pungent stench like nothing I can describe. Ian enjoyed viewing Snickers the Porcupine, but I decided to breakaway and visit the coffee cart to order some coffees for my dad and Brinn, cocoa for Ian, and a chai for myself. Our comforting drinks helped us warm up while we finished our tour.
We saved the wolf exhibit for last. Our culture loves wolves. We glorify them in literature and film, the fierce but graceful beast. The House Stark sigil features a wolf and the Stark children all raise their own pet wolves. Professor Lupin transforms into a wolf. Even vampire lit features wolves! I guess all of this fictional exposure convinced me that I’ve been around wolves, but upon reflection, I don’t recall ever viewing one in a zoo or a preserve. The television or computer screen are the closest I’ve come to seeing these giant killing machines. And giant they are! In my ignorance, I never had an opportunity to appreciate how truly gigantic these beasts are. I can’t possibly imagine overpowering one, and now better understand how justifiably terrified Laura Ingalls must have felt living out of a covered wagon while traveling the Dakota territory. Still, it’s hard to deny the beauty of these regal creatures. I guess that’s why we enjoy them in film and literature.
Alaska Part VIII , trip day 5-6; July 6-7, 2018
When we first start making our travel arrangements for Alaska, my dad mentioned that Sarah Palin lives on Lake Lucille, very near the Best Western. So we made this our last stop before we began our journey south to the Kenai Peninsula. We made the reservations based on the novelty, but soon came to learn that we simply could not find a single bad view around Lake Lucille.
Once we checked in after the drive from Palmer and the Noisy Goose, the boys set off to go explore while I assessed the laundry room. We had several days worth of dirty clothes, and still half of our vacation to go, so I connected Ian’s Kindle Fire to the wi-fi to watch Malcolm in the Middle (a guilty pleasure of mine) on Hulu to keep myself occupied while commandeering both washers and both driers, then folding mountains of clothes. As I sorted, washed, and folded our wrinkled, travel weary garments, Ian found the first body of warm water in Alaska. Disappointed that Lake Lucille Inn didn’t offer a pool, he gave the lake a try and quickly returned to the room for swim trunks and a towel, and ran back to the lake to jump in. He splashed and swam, giving my dad and Brinn a chance to fish, then my dad went walking around the lake to catch some really cool photo opportunities.
After folding my last load and repacking all of our laundry, Ian arrived back at the room ready for a snack and viewing #36 of Balto, so Brinn and I left him in Grandpoppa’s custody and Brinn took me for a tour of the lake. I took my Kindle (mine functions as a reader only), but it was hard to read with all this scenery to soak in. We sat on the dock, feet dangling in the water and ogling at the mountains, and then got to watch a muskrat swim across the entire lake and under the dock. Later we stumbled around the flower beds near the lake and remarked once again how gigantic the annuals grew in Alaska compared with those growing in Tennessee’s paltry fourteen and a half hours of summer daylight.
The next morning, we woke up to quite possibly the most extravagant complimentary breakfast we’ve ever enjoyed. We had our choice of bacon, sausage, or ham; there were hot roasted potatoes (no fried hashbrown nonsense); a couple of options for eggs (but who wants to eat something that yucky?); loads of fruit; and all the rest of the usual continental breakfast items. We were able to stuff ourselves silly and stuff our pockets with enough road snacks to help us bypass stopping for food on our drive south. I sipped tea, enjoying the view from the deck, while Ian chugged milk and Brinn matched my dad cup for cup on coffee. All the while we talked about our options for how to spend our time on the peninsula. Only one day was set in stone, leaving two and a half days open for exploration. We made our plan, loaded our bags, checked out, and hit the road once again.
As our one pre-booked activity was scheduled for tomorrow morning, we hit Bass Pro on our way through Anchorage to look for some waterproof options for my dad to wear. While he didn’t have a lot success shopping, none of us regretted the stop as the store itself was as good as a museum. I’ve only visited Bass Pros in the southeast, and once at the BP near Saint Louis. I didn’t realize that BP tries to be very consistent with portraying wildlife true to the geographic region of the store, so we had the opportunity to examine mounts of brown and polar bears, Alaskan varieties of fish, and more moose. It never occurred to me that there wouldn’t be a huge market for bass boats in halibut and salmon country, so it was a nice change of pace to look through all of the boats with fully enclosed cabs. I think it will now be my goal to visit Bass Pros in every state I travel through, but I’m not sure any of them will top Alaska’s.
Alaska Part VII , trip day 5; July 6, 2018After our fabulous day of hiking through the rain in Denali, we woke up for our final morning in Denali and packed up for our drive back to Wasilla. Two full days in Denali simply wasn’t enough, but we had so much else to see during our trip. Breakfast consisted of our now standard bacon, eggs, toast and coffee/milk. Brinn helped me to knock out our breakfast dishes and prep some sandwiches for our long drive ahead. We loaded down the Sequoia and pulled away from Denali Outdoor Center for the final time, and decided that we couldn’t drive straight through without one last stop in the park.
Gary agreed to a short stop by the visitor center and decided to stay behind and rest while Brinn, Ian, and I set out for a quick hike back down to Riley Creek. We started on the McKinley Station trail again, but quickly cut down a side trail to go straight to the water. Like the day before, we passed piles and piles of moose poop everywhere. No bear threatened our quick jaunt, and we returned to the parking lot within two hours to resume our journey south.
Along the drive, we began discussing our options for the day’s entertainment. We were travelling to Wasilla in order to break up our long drive to the Kenai peninsula, but we’d already spent some time in Wasilla on our first day in Alaska. We’d seen the places we wanted to see there, but with all the daylight, we’d have plenty of day to fit in activity. A quick shuffle through the many brochures we’d picked up earlier in the week presented some ideas, and we decided to cut over to Palmer to visit the reindeer farm. A friend of Brinn’s had told us about visiting this farm with his wife on their trip to Alaska, so it seemed like a solid choice.
To reach The Reindeer Farm, we drove through south on Alaska 3, then jumped on Alaska 1. It was a bit different to have so few highways that all had such low numbers, but it sure did make directions easy. Like everywhere else we traveled, the views on the drive were stunning. Once we reached Palmer, we drove past the Alaska State Fairground. We continued driving through the Matanuska-Susitna Valley and decided this is an area we could easily see ourselves living in. Cell signal was strong here, there were plenty of shopping/dining options, the mountain views were spectacular, and the weather seemed ideal. The fair ground could provide regular entertainment along with the many outdoor options.
Pulling in at the reindeer farm, we quickly discovered many other animals in residence. Some cute quarter horses stood patiently in their pens munching on hay while waiting for trail riders to rent them out. Ian didn’t immediately discover the rabbit in his hutch, but he sure did spot the chicken coop. We fly all the way to Alaska, drove thousands of miles to see native animals and stunning landscapes, and Ian showed more enthusiasm to snuggle with a chicken than anything else. At least he’s consistent… We paid our $40 admission fee for the four of us, then we began our tour with the many skulls on display. After an anatomy lesson and some background information about the farm, our guide took us out into the reindeer pen where we were quickly badgered by quivering lips for the grain we received with our admission.
The farm keeps the reindeer in a large paddock together and allow guests to come right inside with the deer. We learned all about the cycle of horn growth including velvet, hardening, and shedding. All the deer were in velvet as we were there in early July, and they were extremely touchy about their antlers. I assumed that they would be itchy as they shed their velvet, but our guide explained that in fact the shedding velvet actually made the horns very sensitive. All the deer were still shedding out their shaggy winter coats, and loved back scratches. Ian had trouble escaping some hungry deer as he was right at their level for grain thieving. Understandably, he preferred hanging out with the babies.
After we hung out with the deer and fed out all of our goodies, the tour moved us next to meet Rocky the moose. Rocky was a rescue that the Department of Fish and Game had rehomed with the reindeer farm as a baby. We got to meet him during his lanky “teenager” phase. The farm provided us with fresh-cut tree branches to feed Rocky, and Ian soon found himself in a tug of war match with a Moose who easily outweighed him about 15 times over.
After chatting with Rocky, we moved on down to meet some elk. They also enjoyed stripping the leaves off of tree branches, and eagerly crowded the fence to snatch bites. We weren’t allowed inside the pens with the moose and elk like we were with the reindeer, but we were still able to get some pats and scratches through the fencing. Once we finished with the elk, our tour was over, and we were allowed to wander around the farm at our leisure. This is when Ian found the chicken coop and quickly gained permission to enter it and sneak in some chicken cuddles. He tried to cuddle with the rabbit a bit, but he wasn’t quite as enthused as the chickens were.
Once we pulled Ian out of the chicken coop and we all had a good scrub, we loaded back up into the Sequoia in search of food. After a quick google survey of our options, we ended up at the Noisy Goose Cafe. I loved this place! I’m not sure that my dad was quite taken with it, but I also ordered a bit more simply than he did. He and Brinn ordered fish most places we went, which I get (when in Rome…), but as a non-fish eater, I tended to order whatever I was feeling for the day. On this day I
went with a bowl of chili and split a piece of chocolate pie with Ian. The pie case at this place bowled me over. So many options! Brinn enjoyed a giant slice of pecan pie, his favorite, while my dad dug into a big wedge of strawberry rhubarb. Rhubarb seems to be the plant of choice in Alaska. We encountered rhubarb pie many places. After cramming down as much pie as we cold, we finally drug ourselves back outside to backtrack to Wasilla, our final destination for the evening. So once again, we wrapped up another incredibly long day filled with multiple destinations and experiences.
Alaska Part VI , trip day 3-4; July 4-5, 2018After our peaceful float past Denali on the Nenana River, DOC delivered us back to our cabin at the Otto Lake outpost. We all took a hot shower and changed into some warm clothes and prepared to enjoy another ridiculously long day. We hit the Three Bears grocery store in Healy where we stocked up on all the items we needed to cook our own meals for the next two and a half days.
Cooking our own meals was a bit more work, but if you factor in the time and bother of looking up a place to eat, driving, waiting, eating, then driving back to our lodgings, the work ended up taking less time than paying someone else to cook for us. This also considerably reduced the cost of our meals, so we splurged and had ribeyes the evening of our rafting trip. Once we returned back to Otto Lake, I had to label all of our food items before placing them in the shared refrigerator and on the counters. I tossed a few potatoes in the oven, prepped a salad, and settled in with a good book on my kindle with a lakeside view to enjoy some chill time while Brinn and Ian explored the lake and fished.
Cleanup after dinner took hardly any time at all, so we were soon off to explore the campground portion of the outpost and marvel in the mountain views. To no one’s surprise, the day got away from us again and before we knew it evening was over and we were looking at 9:00 PM again, yet the sky was as bright as it was at 2:00 PM. We got Ian settled in for bed with Steele and Ferd, and headed back to the kitchen to prep some sandwiches and pack a few snacks for our next Denali adventure.
The next morning dawned a bit more drizzly, but no less beautiful than the previous two mornings, and we were up early to cook breakfast in the communal kitchen. The other family using the kitchen were up even earlier than us, so they’d already finished cooking and eating before we made it up there, so we did’t have to fight over the large skillet for frying bacon and eggs. After a big breakfast, a few dishes, and several cups of coffee for the boys, we were all dressed warmly with backpacks stuffed full of water and bear mace and rain coats thrown over our arms. We hopped in the Sequoia and headed for the Denali Visitor Center.
A quick conversation at the front desk laid our options for the day, and we quickly decided to hop on a bus bound for the kennels. On our way across the park, we saw another mama moose crossing the road with babies. The excitement of the moose was starting to wear off just a little bit… Two days earlier we got to meet some of the dogs who had competed in the Iditarod. Now we would get to meet the working dogs who provided transportation around the park during the winter months. We learned that these dogs were bred to be much bigger as power was more important than speed when hauling scientific research equipment. Indeed, these dogs were huge! They were also very personable, and we were allowed to pet several of them before watching their demonstration.
After walking through the kennels, while discouraging Ian from showing Steele to the park dogs (he didn’t seem to grasp that Steele looked like a very desirable chew toy), we made our way through the rain to the covered seating to watch the demonstration. The drizzle waited until the presenting ranger began his speech, and then turned into a full on deluge. He laughed and soldiered on with his descriptions of the park kennel, its purpose, and functions. We learned that some areas of the park are restricted from all forms of pollution and no one is allowed to snow mobile in, even if they need to collect data for an ongoing research project. That’s where the dogs come in. We also learned that these dogs are bred with very specific traits in mind. One of those is for small feet with little webbing between their toes. Small feet move more easily across the ice crust on the top of deep snow, and webbed feet can accumulate ice pack that will hurt and slow a dog. Tight toe configuration helps prevent this. I don’t guess a sub zero dog has much need for a swimmer’s physique.
When the rangers were ready to show us how they hook the dogs up to sleds, the entire kennel came awake. Dogs went from laying flat on their sides with their tongues hanging out of their mouths to jumping against the kennel doors and barking like mad. The handlers had to bring the dogs out on their back legs because otherwise, in their excitement, they are simply too strong and could knock a grown man over easily. Each dog kangaroo hopped its way to the cart it would pull, and we learned about what type of dog is needed for each position in the pulling hierarchy, including where the novice runners would usually start at. After harnessing everyone up, the handlers then clipped the dogs to a ring in the ground the keep them stationary until the whole production was ready to roll. Once the dogs were unclipped from the rings, they were off! Like the Iditarod dogs, these showed complete enthusiasm for their job and showed pure joy as they lapped the dirt loop around the kennel area. We laughed and cheered for the furry exhibitors, then pulled our raincoats back on as we made our way to the buses that would return us to the visitor’s center.
Upon our return, we hit the gift shop to pickup some souvenirs, visited the coffee shop for a hot drink to knock of the edge, then made our way back to the Sequoia to plan our afternoon. We each had a sandwich and some chips, and then we headed to the visitors’ center to tour the displays. We particularly found the map of the park and mountain range impressive, but Ian liked the pull out drawers that showed interesting science information, like what animals sleep beneath the surface of the earth, and what is below the permafrost. We wondered around for 30 minutes or so, then we set out to hit the trails.
This was what I’d most looked forward to while planning our trip: hiking in Denali. We slipped out the side door of the bottom floor of the visitors’ center and quickly found ourselves faced with multiple trail options. After some deliberation, we decided to take the McKinley Station trail, which was listed as a mild 1.6 mile trail. We didn’t realize initially that this was a one way distance, nor the so many trails intersected so often. We had already topped of our water bottles, hung our bear mace on the sides of our back packs, zipped up our rain coats, made sure Steele was tucked away safe and dry in Ian’s rain coat, and headed on down the trail.
Black spruce and white spruce both abounded in every direction. Within a matter of minutes we had lost sight of the visitors’ center and found ourselves completely alone in the forest. A few more minutes down the trail and Ian stopped us. “Mama, Dad, do you smell that?” We all stopped and breathed deeply and failed to smell anything. Ian explained, “It just smells so fresh!” And indeed, it did. No hint of car exhaust, or food, or human waste. We simply breathed cool, fresh air. Initially the only sound we could hear came from the soft, almost silent drizzle of rain against the trees, but eventually the sound of running water became stronger. After 20 minutes of hiking and a brief descent, we came to Hines Creek. We waded out into the creek bed for some photos and to hunt for unique rocks. Ian enjoyed throwing rocks and watching the splash. He also enjoyed sticking his fingers in the water then holding them to the back of my neck. Here is where I discovered my combination of water proof socks and Astral loyaks make a killer combination for wet hiking. I had great traction, kept dry feet, and the drain ports in my shoes kept them from getting super heavy. After some splashing, we followed the creek to our first water crossing where we briefly reconnected with civilization as we saw the train trestle in the distance and were able to watch a train go past. Ian volunteered to take some of the pictures so that Brinn and I could have a few with the two of us together. Great job, Ian!
After crossing over Hines Creek, we left the water for a time and wondered back away from the train and people. Our phone gopro batteries began to drop, and we told ourselves to save the juice, but everything we came across looked photo worthy. Eventually we came to our second water crossing: Riley Creek. After crossing the bridge, we followed the water some ways, but eventually Ian’s little legs gave out on him. We stopped for a break overlooking the water and soldiered on, but Ian fatigued again, so Brinn hefted him up onto his shoulders. Brinn and I continued on for another quarter mile or so, but turned around when we realized that Ian had fallen asleep! He was riding Brinn’s shoulders like a little bobble head. We took care to avoid low hanging limbs and worked our way back to the bridge over Riley Creek. We climbed under the bridge here and settled in out of the rain to all take a break and let Ian catch a short nap. Without the steady movement of Brinn’s walking, Ian’s nap didn’t last long, and he was soon ready to move on. After crossing back over the creek, we opted to follow a new trail which took us up a fairly steep climb. Ian climbed back on Brinn’s shoulder and took the easy seat for the majority of the climb. He also drained all of our water bottles dry and used the remaining battery up on both of our phones and the gopro. Here is where I learned that my Astrals are not as great for dry hiking. I always had great traction, but the thin soles that let me grip loose ground let me feel everything on hard ground. After a while, I began to feel every single rock we crossed over, and started to regret leaving my chacos behind.
Eventually we made our way back to the visitors’ center where we reconnected with my dad and made our way back to McKinley Park to hit the gift shops. We wondered from shop to shop, picking out cute tee shirts for ourselves and our friends, and a new Christmas ornament for Ian to bring home. We found caribou summer sausage, gourmet popcorn, donuts, and coffee. After an hour or so of shopping, we were wiped and ready to head back to our cabin. At this point the rain moved out and the sun reappeared. Figures, right? But we decided that we didn’t care. The rain actually ended up helping us have a great day:
No mosquitoes! So long as the rain kept up, the mosquitoes stayed away. We made it through our entire hike without one single winged invader interrupting our peace.
No people! We only passed two other hikers the entire time we were in the woods. It really added to the whole experience to have the trails and creeks to ourselves.
No heat! We didn’t overheat and sweat at all during our hike. With the lowered air temp from the rain, along with the awesome air quality, we were able to hike longer without tired legs or winded lungs. If we had not had little legs, I believe we could’ve comfortably gone all day.
Hiking in Denali confirmed my suspicions –this was an absolute must for our trip and I loved it every bit as much as I’d hoped I would. While there are a few things I would have planned differently had I known better, hiking Denali is not one of them. I loved the trails that we selected along with the weather and the overall experience. This particular outing is one we will repeat for sure.
After all the adventures we’d already encountered –hiking at Peter’s Creek, the transportation museum, the Iditarod Museum and a ride behind sled dogs, a flight around Denali with a glacier landing, and chilling in the cool town of Talkeetna, it’s hard to believe that we’d only spent one full day in Alaska. I’m not joking when I say that it was the longest day of our lives.
After waking earlier than desired on day 2, we took in the lay of the land and became acquainted with Otto Lake. We made a mid morning drive out to Healy to eat at Rose’s Cafe. The locals insisted that this place was fabulous, and recommended that we absolutely had to go. I’m pretty sure my entire family will agree that this was our worst food stop of the entire trip, and it inspired us to do some grocery shopping that afternoon and cook for the rest of our stay in Healy.
After our slow, expensive, and overdone breakfast, we returned to our cabin at Otto Lake to begin prepping for our whitewater expedition. While Denali Outdoor Center provided drysuits, booties, PFDs, and helmets, we figured that the 35 degree water probably called for a bit more warmth than blue jeans and tee shirts afforded, so dug through our bags and pulled out our beloved hydroskins. I grabbed some gloves, our cameras, and we were off to catch our bus headed to the satellite outpost.
Our driver delivered us to McKinley Park, the hustling section of Healy with restaurants,
lodges, souvenir shops, and outfitters. At this outpost, our guides suited us up in Kokatat suits (it was a bit weird with no double tunnel), and we waited for the rest of the customers on our trip to arrive, so Ian and I were able to lay down on benches and catch a quick nap. Once the remaining trip members arrived, we all clambered onto a new bus and headed upstream to jump on the Nenana River. Because of Ian’s age, our options were limited to “the Scenic Wilderness” run. According to Denali Outdoor Center‘s website:
A 2 Hour (11 mile) Alaska raft adventure for all. This Nenana rafting adventure features mild whitewater with class II and one easy class III rapid (minimum age 5 years old). Float the boundary of Denali National Park in search of wildlife with breathtaking views of The Alaska Range.
Our guide, Kaitlin, explained to us early in the trip that everything about the Nenana resulted from glacier movement. The path of a moving glacier carved out the river bed and the giant rocks and boulders which formed rapids were left behind from melting glaciers as they flowed down the mountain. Other rocks fell into the water from cliffs due to glacier movement. The water we were rafting through came from glacier melt. Glaciers, glaciers, glaciers. It was all about the glaciers. Because of the glaciers, the water was very different from what we’re used to in the southeast. The closest way I can relate it is to brown water after a hard rain, but even that’s not completely accurate. Brown water is a solid color that prevents you from looking for green water to see good deep lines, similar to the grey glacier melt that also prevents you from seeing green water. That’s where the similarity ends.
Glacier melt was the color of soupy concrete. It was also absolutely frigid. The water
averaged 33-36 degrees, so hypothermia was a very real danger despite the July heat wave Healy was experiencing. Because of this very real concern, the guides had a very different set of priorities than we do on the southeast rivers. On the Ocoee, guides try to prevent their customers from swimming in areas with undercuts or foot entrapment hazards. Alaskan guides had to avoid all the fun holes and surfs that Ocoee guides would have thrown themselves into for body surfing or back stacked a boat to take advantage of some fluffy carnage.
The Nenana borders Denali for about 40 miles, so a good portion of our rafting trip took us right alongside the edge of the park. At this point we had driven past the mountain, flown right up to it, and now we were floating past it. We pretty much covered all modes of transportation available to us, at this point. The flight was the most spectacular mode, but the float was equally as impressive, just in a different way. Apples and oranges. While rafting, we were able to see a mama moose come down to the water with her two babies. On top of the mountain, up on the glaciers, there is no wildlife to see. We were also able to see more of the flora of the area. Kaitlin explained to us that there are two types of trees in the area: the white spruce and the black spruce. The white spruces have an attractive, even growth from top to bottom. They’re the most northern growing tree on our continent, and grow incredibly fast. I fell in love with these trees and wish I had a grove of them in my backyard. The other type of spruce, the black spruce, grew a little funkier. Kaitlin showed us that we could recognize them by their “Dr. Seuss” appearance. These spruces grow more slowly, and more predominate than their white cousin. You could see them really well from the air, and their less uniform growth pattern could be seen very clearly from the river. They added some flavor to the landscape, but my eye definitely preferred the white spruce.
Another neat feature that Kaitlin pointed out were the bright orange sections of cliffs. The bright colors were not actually there as homage to Vol visitors, but actually showed evidence of eagle nests. A certain type of lichen grows on the cliffs along the Nenana, and when it comes in contact with eagle feces, it turns orange. Eagles do not allow waste to build in their nests, as it would attract predators to their eaglets, so they remove all wastes and deposit it over bodies of water. We thought it was a neat indicator of eagle habitation.
We were restricted to an oar frame boat because of Ian’s age, so we had the unusual experience of doing nothing on a rafting trip. Brinn struggled a bit with sitting still. Who would have guessed? But he took advantage of the opportunity to ride the bull for the first time in 20ish years, and Kaitlin also gave him a turn at the oars. I don’t know that Brinn is ready to give up his guide stick anytime soon, but he had no complaints about the way the boat handled with oars, except maybe the lack of impulsion. If we were trying to hit the bigger holes, that could have posed an issue, but alas, we skirted anything that looked fun. I enjoyed this rare option to simply look around me and spectate during our 11 mile float, as did my dad. Ian, however, couldn’t stand to remain on a thwart while his dad did cool stuff, so Kaitlin gave him a turn at the oars as well. It’s pretty safe to say that Ian became completely enamored of Ms. Kaitlin and looked for every opportunity to go say hi to her around the outpost for the duration of our stay.
The Nenana was a very different experience than what we’re used to on the Obed or Ocoee, but provided views unlike any we’ve ever had the opportunity to see before. Hopefully when we return to Alaska, we’ll be able to take our own raft and spend a bit more time exploring more sections of this river.
Alaska Part IV , trip day 3; July 4, 2018You would think after living the longest day ever, that we would have slept for 20 hours straight, but sadly this was not the case. At 6:00 am, my dad frantically woke Brinn up (which caused me to wake up) in a complete panic that we’d slept too late. “Brinn, it’s already 10:00!” My snippy, sleep deprived response informed him that it was indeed 10:00 in the morning… “yes, in Knoxville. Go back to sleep.” I’m such a delight when I’ve been kept awake for two days.
After another earlier start than planned, we all dragged ourselves over to the bathhouse to reluctantly start our day. But once we left our cabin and took in our surroundings, we forgot all about sleep. Otto Lake has absolutely stunning views. Hands-down, this was absolutely my most favorite place that we stayed during our 12 day trip. Denali Outdoor Center’s outpost offered a large campground as well as four small cabins. The cabins all shared one bathhouse which contained toilets, showers, and a fully stocked kitchen. Later that evening we hit the Three Bears grocery store to stock up so we could cook during our stay in Healy. This worked beautifully as dining options near the park were more limited than other areas we would visit. Surprisingly, the grocery prices weren’t all that bad, either!
Our cabin door opened right onto the large lake, which had some of the cleanest water I’ve ever seen. The lake was surrounded with all kinds of native flora, and occasionally moose would even ramble over to take a drink from the lake. Supposedly the lake was stocked, but I don’t think Brinn or Ian ever actually caught anything. Outpost guests could borrow boats to paddle out across the lake or even swim in its chilly waters. The mountains in the background reflected off the surface. The white-capped mountains contrasted against the abundance of bright green leaves, grass, and bushes everywhere! My Tennessee eyes had trouble reconciling snow with summer foliage, but that didn’t mean that I failed to appreciate the wonder of this view.
Every morning and evening we walked around the lake to take in the mountains. Often we made this trek simply to breath. The complete lack of humidity combined with purity created the perfect atmosphere to revitalize your energy and to just feel good. My legs didn’t burn from climbing hills and I didn’t puff from exertion. Ian’s little legs didn’t fatigue quite as often, and none of our heads hurt. Sinus pressure simply didn’t exist!
When (not if!) we make it back for another visit in Alaska, we will be revisiting Healy and staying on Otto Lake. If I had one regret from this trip, it would be that we didn’t spend more time here. While everywhere we saw was amazing, I can for certain say that the Denali area was the most impressive and enjoyable for me.
Alaska Part III , trip day 2; July 3, 2018Good judgment comes from experience. Experience comes from bad judgment. —Evan Hardin
After we wrapped up our amazing aerial tour and glacier landing, we were starving, so we were off to find some local grub. Downtown Talkeetna, here we come. While it was 9:30 in the evening, Main Street looked like it was maybe 6:00 or 7:00 PM. People were just sitting down to eat at the many places we drove past, and parking was almost nonexistent. Brinn identified a spot right in front of the Denali Brewing Company, so that’s where we pulled in to eat. This probably ended up being my favorite eatery during the entire trip. I had the ribeye sandwich and it was pretty amazing. The place had a cool vibe, and the energy was fun and festive. This little town reminded me so much of Boone, NC. A little touristy and a lot earthy.
We wrapped up an enjoyable dinner on the deck by recounting our amazement with flying through the mountains and walking on a glacier in sight of Denali. We all passed our phones around the table to ooh and ahh over the images we were able to snap from the air. Ian hugged on Steele, munched on a few fries, half a grilled cheese, and began melting into a puddle of tired little boy. So we jumped back in the Sequoia and began our trek to Healy to continue along the longest day of our lives.
My driving directions indicated that we should expect the drive from Talkeetna to Healy to take about 2ish hours. Ha! We probably got back on the Healy Spur around 11:00 PM. Keep in mind that it is still looks like 7:00ish PM by Tennessee standards. At this point we have been awake since 5:00 AM, and have failed to experience darkness yet. My research promised that there would only by 22 hours of daylight, so we must be getting close to dark, right? Again, just kidding! By 22 hours of daylight, my sources must have meant full-sun daylight, because it never seemed to get any darker than twilight.
We drove and drove, and drove some more. Mount Denali loomed in front of us, then eventually to the side of us. For hours we drove, bemoaning the fact that we couldn’t have stayed in Talkeetna. Wouldn’t that have been a great idea? Except I’d already made reservations in Healy for that night and rafting reservations for the next morning. So we soldiered on to our destination. The shadows grew a little longer, and eventually I had to set the font size a little larger to read my kindle comfortably, but full darkness never arrived. We drove past the most breathtaking scenery of my life, but around 1:00 AM I just lost the energy to care. And then we drove some more.
Finally we arrived to our cabin on Otto Lake. We trudged into our cabin, located beds, crawled under covers and crashed. The last thing I remember saying was “the only person allowed to wake me up is Ian. We are not getting up with Eastern or Central Time zones.” So finally, the longest day of our lives ended. It’s just too bad Gary continued to function on Eastern Time…