ALL GOOD THINGS . . .

We got back to the hotel late last night, but the “restaurant” was still open, so we sucked it up and gave it another try.  We shouldn’t have.  Something was very wrong in the kitchen.  Everyone’s orders were taking over an hour to arrive.  Lots of grumbling and walking out.  The chef came out once and walked around a few tables murmuring apologies.  The wait staff began ignoring the tables as there was nothing they could do.  Food, when it did arrive, was mediocre.  Guess I can’t say much good about the Denali Bluffs Hotel, at least from the culinary standpoint.  The problem is, it’s located outside of town, so you can’t walk to alternative restaurants.  We crashed soon after we ate, but only after first packing up everything.  We were scheduled for another early (7:10am) pickup to go to our next adventure, river rafting on the Nenana River.  Things didn’t improve at the restaurant for breakfast.  Wait staff spent most of their time standing around talking to each other.  At least we got off all right, and the hotel forwarded our luggage to the train station while we went away to Denali Raft Adventures.  There, we listened to the safety talk, then clambored into full wet suits (bulky, not the surfer kind) and life vests.  The Michelin Tire man.  They had warned us that the trip would be quite wet, and didn’t recommend taking a camera.  As it turned out, they were wrong, but I complied.  The wet was mostly from the rain, but I have no shots of our float.  These are from their website.  I think we’d float just grand in these things.

For the first time on our trip, we had gray skies and drizzle, which lasted most of the way through the float.  This web shot pretty much reflects our day:

As you can see, the water is not exactly roiling.  To be fair, they did advertise that this trip was only Class I-III, but I don’t think we ever got above Class II.  It was pretty much a slow float for sightseeing.  Unfortunately, with the weather, there were no vistas at all, just low clouds (worse than above) and rain.  They do offer more exciting runs, but those were too long and we had to get back to catch a cab to the train station for the “Wilderness Express” run back to Anchorage departing just after noon.  It took a while to get out of our gear, catch a cab, all the while being soaked by the steady drizzle, but we finally made it to the station, hoping our luggage got checked, and getting ourselves checked in.

One of the few things we regretted over the course of the trip was that Loni didn’t get to see a moose, which for some reason was a major desire of hers.  We were mingling around this waiting room (the train hadn’t arrived) when we heard a chorus of “OH’s,” low murmurs of the “M” word, and then a general stampede to the windows.  We followed along, pushed our way out onto the porch, and, well, goodness me.

The local ranger kept trying to get everyone back, as moose can be quite unpredictable, especially with babies in tow, but she was pretty nonchalant.  She wanted to get to some grazing across the tracks, but a railing stopped her.  Only temporarily.  With her long legs, she simply stepped over it, but left the kids stranded.  She called to them from the other side, and the ranger told the crowd to be absolutely quiet, and then sort of shooed them around the barrier to join her.  I think everyone was holding his/her breath hoping that the train wouldn’t come rumbling in.  It didn’t.

So, Loni got her moose(s) after all, up close and personal.  All was now well with the trip.  I just saw a special on TV about moose, and it said that only 10% of the calves are making it through the first year.  The moose population is in big trouble.  The train was a bit late, which would only add to the 7 1/2 hours the trip was scheduled to take.  I think we opted for this after seeing one too many of those advertisements for scenic train trips through the Canadian Rockies.  Well, those ad scenes are probably exaggerated too.  The train was comfortable, with big, cushy leather seats and wall-to-wall windows.  But, as you can see, the rainy weather made for extremely limited viewing.  I think we spent most of our time on our Kindles, only glancing out every so often.

It was kind of neat to see the train in front of us when we went around bends, and we did get something of a view when we went on bridges over rivers, but that was about it.  Otherwise, it was rainy gloom and a tunnel of trees on both sides.

After all the waiting around, we were eager for the lunch service to start.  It was only served in the dining car, and you had to wait to be called by your seat row as the capacity was quite limited.  I was growling away by the time we got called, climbed down the stairs to the lower level, and through the car to the diner.  Once there, it was pleasant, but the high prices left us to soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, both quite good.  My stomach was happy, if not quite rapturous.

We also had dinner on the train, and were seated with a couple from Delaware and had a nice talk.  Loni and I both had the Alaskan halibut with rice and green beans, but it was hopelessly overcooked.  She, at least, enjoyed her glass of chard.  At the end of the line in Anchorage, it was pandemonium as they put all the baggage out in one great mass (in the rain) and you had to pick your way through it to find your own.  We found Loni’s rather quickly, but I’d almost given up hope with mine when a final group was offloaded late.  We then had to scramble to get the shuttle to the hotel, missing the first departure as it was full, and waiting for her to come back.  The hotel was the Ramada Anchorage, and about all I have to say about it is that it was located close to the station and to downtown restaurants.  Otherwise, it was just a sad Ramada.  I will say that we did find an excellent place for breakfast adjacent to it – the Slippery Salmon Cafe.  Excellent blueberry sourdough pancakes.  The only remarkable thing about our night’s stay was that I was able to get this shot at 11:45 pm.  The land of the midnight sun, indeed. 

We used our eyeshades to get some sleep.  Our Alaska sojourn is over, but some pretty great memories will long endure.  We also will not soon forget Chuck and Alice picking us up at LAX amidst the worst traffic jam I’ve ever seen there.  Sigh, back to Alaska, anyone?

THE TROUBLE WITH HARRY

Oye.  This is the big day where we travel 190 miles (roundtrip) from our hotel just outside the Denali Park to the furthest point in the park accessible by road – the Kantishna Roadhouse.  The Park is huge, with fifty-mile vistas around every bend.  A private car can only go 15 miles into the Park;  after that only buses are permitted.  They ain’t luxurious, and they ain’t new.  All we hoped for were good brakes.  The Park road is gravel, with endless twists and turns reminiscent of the road to Hana.  Our pickup time was 6:30am, so we hauled out at 5 in order to get some breakfast before the 14 hour journey.  Yes, I said 14 hours.  It actually took a bit longer.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.  All that was available in last night’s bar/cafe was a buffet breakfast at $16 each.  Powdered eggs, limp bacon, but decent biscuits.  But $16???  We needn’t have rushed through it.  When the bus arrived, we found we were missing 2 passengers.  After scouring our hotel’s grounds, we went to two other hotels searching for them, waiting interminably at each.  Finally our guide said (to a chorus of cheers) that we’d have to push on without them.  About time.  We’ve already wasted an hour.  Our first stop was the visitor center just inside the Park.  Guess who we found there?  Our two passengers.  They “misunderstood” where they would be picked up. Bah!  They got a very cold reception from the bus.  Well, at least we’re off.  According to our guide, only 5% of visitors on these tours actually see the mountain.  That’s a lot less than the view from Talkeetna.  Well, our charmed existence continued.  We soon saw a glorious sight.

No matter the angle, that’s impressive.  This was from about 80 miles away, although cropped to make it bigger.  We were lucky to catch this view, as it was shrouded in mist the rest of the day and we never again saw it like this.  Denali is the largest vertical rise (above ground) mountain in the world since its base sits much lower in altitude than Everest’s.  Of course, if you include sea-floor-to-peak mountains, Mauna Kea takes the prize. Harry was nice to us, and we got a front row seat which I clung to throughout most all the trip.  Hey, all the scowling was behind me.  Thank goodness the windows were clean.

One problem with the delay with the lost passengers was that it added an extra hour of on-the-bus-time so that the scheduled 3-hour first bathroom break was delayed by that long.  I gotta tell you, I was about to scream “stop the bus” before we finally pulled into the best scenery on the trip.  I used that front-seat position to advantage and I sprinted, not walked.

Relieved at last, we continued our trip along the ribbon of gravel road into the wilderness.

We had a few non-bathroom stops to stretch our legs and take in the sights.  On a trip this long, every break is welcome.  What’s that old song, “I can see for miles and miles and miles . . .”  Never truer.

Of course, even in all this wilderness, we weren’t the only busload.  Harry had lots of friends.

Breakfast was a long time ago, and with the delay, we’re still pretty far from our lunch destination.  Not to worry.  Harry took good care of us.

The road here is sort of an alpine version of California’s Highway 1 through Big Sur.  Lot’s of cliff-hanging road with plunges down to water below, in this case the Teklanika River whose bed we overlooked for much of the trip.

At mile 66 we came upon the Eielson Visitor Center which has some interpretive displays, a gedunk shop, and vending machines.  Oh, yeah also a view.  It’s a long way down to that riverbed and plain.  Fill your lungs!

Rested up, we moved on to our next viewstop, where I tried a panorama shot.  It gives you an idea of the scope of what we were seeing.

Our center-of-the-park destination, Kantishna, started out as a short-lived (one year) gold mining camp in 1905.  The road to the place wasn’t built until 1938.  Today, it’s mostly just the Roadhouse where you can rent rooms and get meals.  We had minestrone soup, a turkey wrap, cookie and lemonade.  Not fancy, but hey, we’re 95 miles from anywhere, and that anywhere isn’t very much either.  Part of the tour was a talk by a local about sled dogs, mushing, and the Iditarod.  He had participated in it, and his father had won it back in its early days.  I have to say, this guy was the best natural speaker that I’ve ever heard.  He had us rapt with attention for about 45 minutes.  Polished, but not slick.

After the talk, we went outside and over to the sled dog corral to get an exhibition of harnessing the dogs and watching them mush around towing an ATV.  Those dogs were eager!  I was surprised to find that they prefer mixed breed dogs for the most part, and they use different breeds (or mixes) for different positions in the harness line.  I had always thought they used nothing but Huskies or Malamuts.  No way.

Mush!  Not particularly exciting, but interesting nonetheless.

 

After this it was time to reboard the bus and retrace our route back to the hotel.  Again, the scenery was spectacular as the weather continued to hold. 

The road, however, didn’t get any straighter.  Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.

We kept scanning the countryside for wildlife, but all we could see were little dots of things off in the distance.  Until we rounded a curve and the driver slammed on her brakes.

My lack of telephoto lens proved to be no problem as the griz mosied right up by the bus.

Closer?  Well, sure!

So, no moose for Loni, but we weren’t complaining about the wildlife.  That provided most of the excitement for the rest of the ride, but we were lost in the scenery all the way back. When you’re out in all of this vast expanse, you feel as if you are getting a privileged peak at something special.  Hard to believe that 265,000 other souls take this trip each year.

We and our butts were happy to get back after 14 hours or so on the bus.  In the end, as it turned out, there was no “trouble with Harry” after all.  He did a swell job.

GOOD GOLLY, IT’S DENALI!

Before retiring last night, we asked the desk for a 6am wakeup call, and we set our own alarm clock as well.  We had been told that the best time for viewing was right at sunrise, as the skies are at their clearest then, if at all. About 70% of visitors don’t get a view of the mountain because of clouds.  Well, the wakeup call never came and, of course, we somehow fouled up the alarm clock, as it was nearly 8am before we got up.  Much cursing, and then a mad dash to the back patio for the viewpoint.  And, well, there it was!

I guess you can’t ask for much better than that.  Denali on the right at 20,320, Hunter in the middle at 14,573, and Foraker on the left at 17,400.  With a little cropping, Denali is huge.  Its name comes from the Athabascan for “the high one.”  High, indeed.

We ate breakfast (really dense oatmeal, which we topped with a rhubarb yoghurt to thin it out) on the deck with the mountains as our backdrop.  Pretty amazing.  And then, of course, the obligatory selfie.

I took a photo for a couple from Illinois who wanted a shot of them holding their hometown newspaper.  Hah!  Our local rag, the Post, does the same thing.  It will run a picture of subscribers holding the paper in some far-off location.  We took a copy to Portugal and took a shot but didn’t bring one here.

Part of our package is a Jet Boat ride up the Talkeetna and Susitna Rivers that meet up and run through Talkeetna.  We had some time to kill, so we left the lodge and caught the bus into the city town village hamlet of Talkeetna, which was sporting spring color.

It’s a nice little place, but there’s really not that much there.  There’s the park at the intersection above, and then the one block main street.  The Inn is closed and for sale.

It didn’t take long to “explore,” so we wandered down to the river to check out what we’d be riding on.  It wasn’t quite the boiling water we had hoped for, dead game sports that we are.

As it got nearer our departure time, we walked to the other end of town where Mahay’s Adventures had their recycled bus waiting to take us to the boat.  As we were standing around, the Fairbanks-to-Anchorage train came roaring through.  This is the train we will eventually catch up at Denali Park in a couple of days to take us south as well.

I have to say this river ride was the dud of the trip.  The “jet” boats aren’t anywhere near as exciting as the one we took up the Rogue River in Oregon.  Even the scenery was pretty mediocre, just a lot of trees lining the rivers. They tried to generate a little excitement with distant eagle sightings, but, well, zzzzzzzz.  This isn’t a knock on Mahay’s, they do the best they can with what they have to work with.

We did pull in at one point to visit a reconstructed native village and trapper’s cabin.  Some of the factoids that our ranger guide told us actually were pretty interesting.  One was that the natives utilized the permafrost layer to act as a refrigerator during the warm months.  They’d dig a circular pit (see upper right, below) down into the permafrost, deposit their meats or whatever, and then cover it well with branches, bushes, and dirt.  Pretty clever.  The trapper cabin was not much, but Loni did get to sport one of the many pelts that were hanging there for people to touch.  Yuck.  Our ranger gal was interesting herself, packing a rifle that would, we hoped, stop a grizzly dead in its tracks.

Another factoid was that the cow’s parsnip, a plant we saw everywhere and which also is common around the Sierra’s near Tahoe, has little “stickers” along its stems that are photo sensitive.  When they’re on your skin and exposed to light they can cause 3rd degree burns!  The plants use the photo-toxic furanocoumarin to protect themselves from fungus attacks.   Who knew?  I’ll watch myself when hiking from now on.

After all this, um, excitement, Loni and I retreated to the principal restaurant in town, the Denali (natch) Brew Pub, where we both enjoyed some of our favorite things, an Alaskan Cod sandwich, a fresh salmon salad, and some porters.  Rain clouds starting to form.

And, oh yeah, on the way back to the hotel, where we were to catch our bus north, Loni had her second moose sighting.

Our “Park Connection” bus didn’t leave the hotel until 5:45pm, but it was still daylight when we finally arrived at the Denali Bluffs Hotel at almost 10pm.  That is a long haul.  At that hour, the deserted bar/cafe had little but chili and cheese sandwiches.  Oye.  We have to be up at 5am to start our all-day trip into Denali Park.  Time for the sleep masks to keep out the Midnite Sun.

LONG DAY ON THE BUS

Today is mostly a long drive (238 miles) from Seward through Anchorage and then on to our stop for the night at Talkeetna.  Frankly, there’s not a lot to see along this route, so having a well-charged Kindle or the like was a necessity.  We were to be picked up at Windsong Lodge around 10:45 am, so we could sleep late and then wander over to the building housing Resurrection Roadhouse, the lodge’s captive restaurant, which was pretty nicely situated.

Off to the left of the above shot was an even prettier view:

I still can’t believe the great weather we had.  For the strenuous bus ride, it was necessary to fortify to the max.  Loni had steel-cut oatmeal, but I succumbed to the siren lure of Macadamia nut french toast and bacon.  Hey, I’m on vacation!  Have to say, the best French toast ever, but I confess I couldn’t finish.  On the right is the reverse view from the restaurant.

The bus was called the Park Conx Bus and I have no idea what that name means, but it was adequately comfortable, but certainly not luxurious.  We got our bags loaded and settled in for the first leg, a little over two hours to Anchorage where we would have time for lunch and a very quick dash into the Native American Culture Museum.  We wished we could have spent more time there, as the Native Tribes exhibits were quite nice (see glass cases below).  The third floor was devoted to the history of baseball in Alaska.  Apparently, it was quite the thing.  Who knew?  As for the other shot, well, you gotta give ‘em an “A” for honesty.

We had a quick bite in the Museum’s restaurant, which wasn’t bad (soup and salad), and got back on the bus for the longer slog up to Talkeetna.  Like I said, there wasn’t much to see or report on for this segment.  Loni thought the flat marshlands we were passing through should have been prime moose country, but alas.  There were sled dog trails running beside the highway.  According to our driver (hmmm), the Iditerod Race is an homage to the hardy mushers who took diptheria vaccine to Nome during an outbreak.  After the marshes, we were largely driving through tree tunnels that blocked any view.  We were very happy to finally arrive at the Talkeetna Alaskan Lodge, whose principal claim to fame was supposed to be a knockout first view, weather permitting, of Denali, as Mt. McKinley is now officially known.  Although the lodge was quite nice, we settled into easy chairs to look out through the windows at, largely, . . . clouds.

Loni insisted I take a picture of the map of the mountains, as the forecast was for rain the next three days and we might not see anything at all.  As you can see, the map hasn’t caught up with the new naming of Denali.

Loni has been looking for moose ever since we hit Alaska.  Don’t know what her mania is, but she really wants to see one.  We had dinner in the lodge cafe, just hamburgers and fries and, of course lava cake with homemade coffee ice cream.  Well, I was happy!  But Loni was as well.  She finally sighted her moose.

WHALEAPALOOSA

Sometime last night we docked in Seward, which is the end point of the cruise, and we transition to the land portion of our trip.  Well, this first day actuallly was more surf than turf.  Last night we said our good-byes to the kids, as they had a crack-of-dawn departure from the ship to make the shuttle over to Anchorage and their flights home.  It’s only us retirees who get to continue to play.  Sure enough, even tho we got up early as well, we didn’t get to see them before they disembarked.  We had a quick breakfast (gotta get every last bit of my money’s worth) on board, then headed to the theater to wait for them to call our get-off group’s number.  As it turned out, we didn’t have to wait.  As soon as we got there, they told us we were all cleared to leave whenever we wanted.  On the dock we used their number system to locate our bags, and we were on our own.  With two large suitcases and several smaller bags. 

I had booked the rest of our tour through Alaska Tour & Travel as they seemed (on the web) to be experienced and had lots of tour options.  When I was booking, I hadn’t quite cottoned onto the idea that they don’t actually conduct tours, they simply put together a package of lodging, bus transportation, and local tours operated by other companies.  A consolidator if you will.  As we would find, this leaves some gaps, but we were able to scramble when necessary.  With hindsight, we could have booked all these things directly and saved whatever commission AT&T (unfortunate initials) made on the deal.  But, the outfits and places they booked us with turned out to be just fine, and it was worth it not to have to blind-pick these things ourselves.  They provided us with a thick envelope containing “vouchers” for each of the things we had included in our package.  Unfortunately, there was no voucher for transportation from the ship to our first adventure, a whale-watching cruise of the Kenai Fjords National Park waters.  I had spotted this omission before we left, and spoke with one of AT&T’s junior reps on the phone.  She suggested we could just walk it as it wasn’t far, or try to find a taxi.  Well, as the crow flies, it wasn’t far . . .

That’s the ship, and I’m taking the photo from where we wanted to be, the small boat dock.  But to get here on foot is at least a mile or more walk around the entire harbor.  With all those bags?  Ain’t gonna happen.  I found a gal who seemed to be arranging transportation for someone, and asked about cabs.  Well, she was just putting her passengers into the only one around.  But we might try that car over there.  That car over there turned out to be a gypsy cab operated by a very nice woman in her family station wagon, and she saved our bacon.  She took us to our first night’s lodgings, waited while we stored our bags for our later check-in, then motored us over to our dock.  I tipped her generously.  Once there, Major Marine Tours checked us in and sent us out to wait for our departure.  We walked about a bit and window shopped, then settled in for about an hour.

Loni wasn’t feeling so hot, so we were concerned that this might be a, ah, dicey voyage, but she was a trouper and ensconced herself on the aft deck of our catamaran craft, which had excellent viewing.

The Denali small boat harbor is quite picturesque itself.  That’s not our boat, just some fisherman.

It’s a long way out of Resurrection Bay, which is a long inlet with Seward sitting at the very end.  On the way out, a jet ski came roaring up and began using our wake for jumps (he’s just catching up to us in this shot).  Seward is way back there around to the left (out of sight).

Although we didn’t know it at this point, this would turn out to be a spectacular day for whale watching.  Even the crew was impressed.  About an hour out, we got our first Orca sighting.

A whale activity that is not often observed is “bubble net feeding,” where the whales circle their prey underwater and exhale bubbles, creating a column of bubbles with the prey inside the column.  This concentrates the prey and then the whales go crazy and get big mouthfuls.  Here’s a bunch of humpbacks doing their thing.

Once we got closer into the shore, we saw pods of whales close up.

The light smudges on the photo are whale spouts.  The birds of course flock to these feeding frenzies as there is a nice concentration of fish to dive at.  I like this next shot because it captures both of the things we came on this cruise to see:  whale and glacier.

Here a pod of orcas have their heads out of the water and mouths open as they feed.  Loni was watching through the binocs and said it was incredible.  I again lament the lack of a proper telephoto lens.  The park ranger who was along on this trip for commentary was totally jazzed and said he’d never seen this amount of whale activity.  We were pretty siezed, too!

Now it was time to head for the glaciers.  We traveled way up Aialik Bay to the Holgate Glacier, part of the Harding Icefield that covers much of the park.  It was impressive as we approached,

and even more impressive closer in, with another ship to provide some scale. 

Over to the right, where the glacier meets the water, an under-ice stream was storming out from the base, roiling the water.  It’s not too impressive in this shot, but was cool to see.

As we pulled away on our return, I got a panorama of both Holgate and Little Holgate glaciers, the latter also known as Surprise Glacier.  Spectacular.  Again, our luck continues with the weather clearing just when we need it to.  Touch wood.

The exit shot as we left the Holgate Arm wasn’t too shabby either.  This is gorgeous country.

I count five or six waterfalls coming down this mountain. 

Reminds me a bit of Milford Sound from our visit to New Zealand ten years ago.  On our way back to Seward the captain took us close to the cliffs when he spotted a bevy of basking sea lions enjoying the good weather.

These little islands reminded me of photos I’ve seen of SE Asia waterways.  How in the world do trees that big grow out of seemingly solid rock?

And we saw another famiy of orcas, including a baby (at left).  This is how they should be viewed, not in a swimming pool at SeaWorld.

This was a terrific trip.  Kudos to Major Marine, but also to our good fortune.  The crew and the ranger both vowed that this was the best whale watching they had seen in 15 years.  But we weren’t done.  We had two more sightings just as we pulled back into Seward.

Ah, yes, the rare and elusive brace of Lazy Daze RVs, far from their home territory.  That’s sure a primo camping spot right on the bay.  We envied them, but not all the driving they had to do to get to this spot.  This was the end of our six hour tour, and we had a great time.  Now all we had to do was to make our way back to our Wind Song Lodge.  There was supposed to be a shuttle, but the directions we got were vague to say the least.  We were also told it ran every half hour.  Wrong.  Every hour on the half.  We waited the full hour, got on, found we were headed outbound instead of in, then had to suffer a tour of the town with extra stops to wait for passengers.  This turned out to be somewhat of a blessing, because by the time we got back to where they originally picked us up, it was standing room only and very packed.  Wind Song Lodge was clean, rustic, and nicely situated.  We ate at their restaurant, but neither of us was that hungry.  A hummus plate for Loni and clam chowder for me.  It was a full day!