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.
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