The "Final Frontier"

(Pictures with ** came from the web.)

Alaska has always seemed like a man's country and I suppose it's due to the robust amount of outdoor sports .... such as the all-popular fishing, hunting, and um .... fishing.   It has been on Husband's List for a long time, so after a year of planning, we went.   

Not by plane.  

Not by boat.  

Instead we drove approximately 6800 miles up through Canada and back in our van, over a total of five weeks and two days.  We did an Alaska cruise years ago which was one of our favorites, but you don't really SEE that much of Alaska on a cruise.  You just don't.  But the truth is, we still only saw a small part of it this time.  It's just so big. 

We started north during one of our triple-digit heat waves at home and got to our son's home in Washington (in even more heat) to drop off our dog.  (Thanks again, C & L !)  We then drove north like we were on a team of galloping horses with me whipping the reins yelling GO! GO!, knowing cool weather was ahead.  We didn't stop until after we crossed the border in northern Idaho where it was still hot .....  and hot the next day too.  And the next.  But we eventually got to where it cooled down into the blessed 60s and I found heaven.

Just inside the Alaska border.

"Let's move here!" I exclaimed.  

"It's dark all winter", reminds Husband.

"Who needs daylight?  All I need in the winter is a wood stove, a book, maybe a puzzle, and I'm good." 

But that idea was short-lived because I quickly realized my list of needs was a bit longer than that. 

"Or .....", says I, "We can come up every August and stay for a month!  How hard would that be??"  (I had visions of never again enduring hot weather and Husband, who was pondering all the fishing, was fully on board.)

That last idea was discussed quite a few times over the next few weeks before it finally died a quiet death.

We drove up through the stunning Banff National Park in British Columbia, where mountains were invented, or so we thought.  (We later learned they were actually invented in Alaska.)  Too often people bypass Canada in their quest to see Alaska, and miss a lot of incredible scenery. 

Gotta love that glacial silt color. 

More Banff.

 After a few days of driving, we came to the town of Dawson Creek in The Yukon, which is the official start of the Alaska/Canada highway, aka the "Alcan".

This highway was built during WWII when Alaska (before it was even a state) became valuable in the strategic placement of military bases.  It was a rough road back then but today, any car with decent tires can drive it.  There are enough sources for fuel along the way and the prevailing wisdom is to always top off your tank when you encounter any bedraggled gas station with working pumps, some of which appear to have been built during the Depression.  

Husband's obsession with spotting wild animals was at a fever pitch.  I love to see them too, but his eyes literally did not leave the road or the terrain along the road, or the meadows, fields, lakes, etc., in case something was moving out there.  Only once did I spot one before he did.  We saw several grizzlies and other bears, a few moose (my first!), caribou, elk, and buffalo.  But we saw far more road signs warning of wildlife .... than actual wildlife.  

That fat butt belongs to a big ol' grizzly.

Moose.  Sadly, we never saw one with antlers.

Caribou

Typically, people enter Alaska (by car) and drive a loop, as did we.   Up to Fairbanks, then down to Denali National Park, then on down to Anchorage, then southeast to the Kenai Peninsula where the touristy towns of Homer and Seward are found.  From there we drove through a 2.5 mile tunnel to the dreary little town of Whittier and caught a ferry to Valdez, then up to the tiny "town" of Chitina where we accessed the road into-and-out-of McCarthy, then up to Tok where we found the BEST fudge, and back out to Canada.

This route only covers a corner of Alaska because most of this vast state is inaccessible by roads.  One of the things I loved about it is the lack of crowds and traffic.  Just lots and lots of space.  

The yellow line roughly shows our route.

We really liked Fairbanks because of its history and maybe because it was mostly sunny, with a daily outburst of afternoon rain that quickly dried up again.  Plus it literally sits right next to The North Pole (a small town with a very large gift shop) where you-know-who lives.  

 

Only 20 - 30 percent of visitors to Denali Park get to see the highest mountain in North America (formerly named McKinnley) because it's usually encased in clouds.  But we were lucky.  

Denali.  20,310 ft tall.   

The next two weeks we spent on the Kenai Peninsula where it rained and drizzled and Husband didn't get to do some boat excursions he'd hoped for.  The clouds hovered low on the mountains, obscuring too many views.  We spent a night on the Homer Spit (a narrow strip of land that juts out in the bay) and one night in cute little Seward.  It was, we heard, one of the rainiest Augusts in recent history.  

"You should've been here in July!" the locals would say.  "The weather was great!"  < Sigh >

Shops along the Homer Spit. **

While in Homer, we took a ferry (the only way to get there) over to the isolated town of Seldovia, which (I suspect) is where Popeye once lived.  Colorful to say the least.

The Seldovia grocery store.

Another house going in ... and waiting for the tide to return.  (It rises a good 20 ft or so.)

Saw this little boot garden on the historic Seldovia boardwalk.

Husband had success fishing.  He’d be outside in the rain, standing in a nearby river, while I remained in our warm van baking muffins and listening to an audio book.  This arrangement suited both of us nicely.  But unfortunately he broke his rod because it wasn't strong enough for all the salmon that kept leaping onto his hook.  (He was trying for trout.)  One of those salmons fed us for three meals.

One of the highlights was our trip to the ghost town of McCarthy and the old abandoned Kennicott copper mine, named after a nearby glacier .... or visa versa?  It all lies within the massive (and largely unheard of) Wrangell St, Elias National Park and Preserve. This required leaving civilization behind and driving 60 miles (each way) on a bumpy, rutted road and across this old bridge that, because of my research, had me very concerned.  It turned out to be best part of the road because it was SMOOTH.  

238 ft high, 525 ft long.  Built in 1910.  Known as the "biggest thrill on the road to McCarthy".

Wooden surface.  Saw that on a lot of bridges in Alaska.

The road ends at "base camp" where there's a campground and a footbridge crossing the Kennicott River.  

**

Visible from that footbridge.  See what I mean???
(Kennicott Glacier)

You leave your vehicle licking its wounds at Basecamp, cross the footbridge, and either walk the half-mile or catch the rattly free shuttle van to McCarthy.  Then another five miles up an even bumpier road to the old mine.  We read that (during its years of operation) booze was not allowed at Kennicott (which was a self-contained community) so nearby McCarthy sprang to life.  It had all the accoutrements one would expect to find in a remote mining town, meant to rid the men of their pesky paychecks.  Today about half the McCarthy buildings are empty and returning to Mother Earth, but there is still a small working hotel, a cafe or two, and a small store that sold delicious ice cream. 

McCarthy **

Suprisingly, this is a popular tourist spot.  Prior to our trip, we bought good tires, a small compressor, and a tire repair kit with this area in mind.  Fortunately we had no trouble, but were able to help Rachel, a lovely young women traveling ALONE in her older self-built van, who had ventured out there on not-great tires and got a flat.  (Yikes.  Did I mention there were no services within about 100 miles??)   

In addition to a lot of dogs, we noticed a number of college-age-looking people in McCarthy, so they must come to spend their summers working in this very unique setting.  The entire area, including the road, closes down during the long winters.

I heard the state strives to preserve the Kennicott mine in a "state of suspended decay" and it is a fascinating step back into the early-to-mid 1900's.   There was a one-room school, a post office, an old-style store and a few other conveniences to serve the workers and their families until when the copper finally ran out.  

A few of the buildings have been restored for display.  

The products in the store were true to the period.

Don't you just love the creepiness?

On our return trip towards home, we diverted down the Cassiar Hwy in BC to visit the extremely humble "town" of Hyder (population 60), which sits just inside and at the bottom of the Alaska panhandle.  

**

There are two reasons to go to Hyder:  

1. To see the bears.  There is a shallow river where thousands of salmon go to spawn and die, and the bears come to help them die a little sooner.  There are raised wooded walkways where people can safely watch it all up close.  

We watched one young grizzly terrorizing the fish for several hours.  Please know ...... humans who hunt or fish are MUCH more humane than any bear ever was.  This guy would pull one out of the water, then toss the traumatized fish aside and go for another and another, until he found one that was full of eggs.  Then he'd eat it.  There were dead fish everywhere.   I couldn't help feeling sorry for them.

The perpetrator.  (It helps to have a zoom lens and a husband who knows how to use it.)

And 2. To see the glacier.  Immediately on the far end of Hyder, we embarked on a narrow 20 mile long goat path (the McCarthy road was nothing in comparison) up and along the side of a steep mountain.  Then, over an hour later, we emerged at the mountain tops and the most magnificent glacier we have ever seen.  It's called the Salmon Glacier and is one of the largest glaciers on the continent.  Think of the first time you stood at the edge of the Grand Canyon.  This is a similar experience. 

Husband "stitched" together four photos to capture the immensity of the glacier.  This picture is headed for a wall in our house.

This is from my phone.  I wanted to add it for a bit of scale .... Look for someone in the picture.  (I  happen to know him personally.)

 We had made the very fortunate decision NOT to wait and come up the next morning because we got these pictures in the beautiful sunset.  Our plan was to spend the night up there and get more pictures at sunrise.  However, during the night it clouded over and rained, and we woke up to thick fog and one totally missing glacier.  It was as if it had been erased!  Several people drove up that morning and got to see nothing ...... including one couple from Germany who will probably never go to Hyder again, much less up that road to the glacier.  This glacier was indeed the pinnacle (no pun intended) of our trip.  If you're ever in the area it's a must ..... just not on an overcast day.

Parked high up at the viewpoint for the night. 

Further on our return trip, we drove through the mountains of the famous Whistler ski resort.  Oh Canada!  Thou art glorious!  Then down towards Vancouver, BC, ...... breathtaking!  

**

We crossed the US border into Blaine, WA, and finally had some REAL INTERNET again.  Here's the deal on that ..... Alaska's cell service is phenomenal.  (We use Verizon.)  Even in McCarthy, we could stream videos.   However, Canada was a different story.  They had service, but would only dole out tiny snippets to us non-citizens-who-had-neglected-to-research-sim-cards.  Each day we'd get what seemed like about five minutes of fast internet and then we were throttled till the next day when we were allotted another few minutes.  This forced us to seek out WIFI whenever possible.  

A few other things we learned on this trip:

Canadian money is so pretty!  But they use a lot of dollar coins, so don't confuse those with quarters.  And unless you want to appear as dumb as I was, note that the coins are clearly marked and don't keep asking patient Canadians how their money works.

**

The US, on the other hand, has MUCH more interesting license plates.  

Canada is serious about not littering.  Even on the most remote roads nowhere near anything, there are frequent pullouts with bear-proof trash cans provided.  The trash collectors must put in LOTS of miles.

Do NOT EVEN THINK about bringing a weapon into Canada, including even a small pepper sprayer.  But you're totally okay packing a massive can of bear spray across the border, as long as it's clearly labeled.  

Yours Truly has learned how to convert kilometers into miles.  

Canadians (and Alaskans) are MY PEOPLE because they think 90 degrees fahrenheit is TOO hot.  Which it is.

The long hours of daylight were no problem.  Except we kept forgetting to eat dinner until much too late.

The reason there's a drought in the lower portion of our country is because the WATER IS ALL UP NORTH!  My goodness, there is water everywhere up there!

The people of Alaska have a kind of rugged, low-maintenance vibe.  And when you leave the city, you'll only see two kinds of footwear ....  sturdy hiking shoes or knee-high rubber "mucking" boots.  These people can't be bothered with flip-flops.

**

The mosquitos were mostly in Canada.  Not so much in Alaska ..... at least during August/September.

A few more random pictures:

From the ferry from Whittier to Valdez.  Gray was the theme of the day.

From one of our overnight spots, overlooking Homer and the Spit.  The most vivid rainbow I can remember.

We hiked about a half mile up to the famous Mendenhall Glacier.  There are a series of signs showing how much it has receded.  This is where it was in 2005.  (I'm straddling a puddle.)

We only paid to stay in established campgrounds about 20% of the time.  There are so many beautiful spots that are free.  Here's an example.  (Our van is in the back.)

This is the Our Lady of the Snows Catholic Church which kindly shares the use of their chapel with a tiny group from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  One meets Sunday mornings and the other in the evenings.  It is about 40 miles out of Anchorage, in the remote town of Girdwood ..... difficult to find w/o a GPS.  We happened to attend services there one Sunday, and is where we experienced a small miracle.  Ask me about it sometime.

Alaska was purchased from Russia in 1857, for a mere 7.2 million.  Russia didn't want to sell it to Canada, because they were concerned about Britain's power at that time.  It was made a state in 1959, during my lifetime.  (About the same time as Hawaii.)  I was very young and completely oblivious. The purchase of Alaska was unpopular for several decades until 1897 when gold was discovered  ..... and later the vast oil fields.  

Well done, Andrew Johnson administration.  Well done.

  

#vanlife

Last week we rolled in from our longest van trip to date.  Three weeks.  And I'm telling you ..... after three RVs .... namely: one small trailer, one monster motorhome, and one small toy hauler .... we have found IT.    Now, granted, if a person (or two persons to be exact) is planning to live full time on wheels for over two years ..... a monster motorhome is the way to go.  But we found we didn't necessarily like, for various reasons, living in one.  (Except those few weeks in Palm Springs were preeeettty sweet.)  

Husband was leery at first about spending too many consecutive days in a 23 foot van, fearing claustrophobia.  Learning our limits is still in progress.   

The trip:

We started out heading north into our neighboring state of Washington which does a bang-up job of islands, mountains, national parks, water, and ferries.  And although wildfires were still a-blazin', we managed to avoid most smoke .... at first.  

May I just say, if you have not been on a ferry going to the San Juan Islands of NW Washington, you are missing out.  We have done it more times on bicycles, which is MUCH cheaper than in a car.  This time we needed a reservation for the ferry and were left with the only time available .... 6:15 a.m.  Taking a vehicle longer than 22 ft. on the ferry sends the price into orbit (>$200).   'Tis sobering until you realize that you are taking your lodging across with you, eliminating the need for a hotel room (which are also pricey there).  We stayed there two nights, thus making the cost reasonable.  Our ultra-early departure (we had to be at the ferry terminal before daylight) seemed unfortunate until the sunrise happened.  Now we recommend it, because .... wow.  

One of my favorite spots in the PNW is on the far side of the largest island of the San Juans .... called Roche Harbor, which is where we put our kayak to use.  Roche Harbor floats in a fairyland of green forested hills, flower gardens, artists' booths, restaurants, and even a small historic hotel.  Not to mention the boats.    (New England, move over.)

The next highlight of our travels was an oft-overlooked little National Park just south of the Canada border, called North Cascades.  (Have you heard of it??  I had not until last year and I LIVE A DAY'S DRIVE AWAY.)  Many of the best parts can be seen from your car.  We did a 3.5 mile hike up to a view point overlooking Diablo Lake, then discovered the best view (shown in next picture) was from a pull-out, further up the road.  Totally stunning and the color of the water LOOKED JUST LIKE THIS.  (Something to do with glacial silt.)  

However, if you go there, plan around the weather.  We rode our motorcycle through it last year on an unfortunately rainy day, and much of the scenery was obscured in the clouds and fog.  Hence, we HAD to go back this year.  Really ..... no need to go all the way to Banff in Canada until you've been here.  Have I mentioned how much I love to visit (parts of) Washington??  Except for the coast, it beats Oregon, in my opinion. 

I will pause here briefly to mention one of the best parts of #vanlife.  (The hashtag matters.  Don't ask me why.)  We use an app called iOverlander which shows out-of-the-way campsites, all found and shared by other campers.  It connects to google maps to make them easy to locate, complete with reviews.  We have stayed in some wonderful spots, usually free, including:  

By the water in Anacortes (up to 72 hours allowed) about a mile from the ferry terminal, where we spent the night listening to the seagulls.  

Somewhere close to the Canadian border, out in the woods overlooking the mountains.  

(North Cascade NP is seen off in the distance.  We would've have stayed longer in this spot if we had cell reception for our zoom church service .... since the next morning was Sunday.  So instead, we drove to and attended church via our iPad, at a park next to the Grand Coulee Dam.)

.... And next to a river along a remote road near Coeur d'Alene, 

etc, etc.

It's totally legit.  No itinerary needed.  No reservations.  We just consult the app and figure out where we want to spend the next night or two as we go along.  It's doable when you are completely self-contained with your own water, power, and most important ... bathroom. 

We touched briefly into Montana then back through the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho and discovered that Ketchum, Idaho, (an upscale town by Sun Valley) has an amazing network of paved bike paths throughout and beyond the town.  We hauled our folding bikes out of the van and went for a ride.  

Interspersed along the way, we got some much-needed family time with siblings, after which we planned to head east towards the Tetons and maybe Yellowstone.  But the smoke stopped us.  So we rerouted to Wallowa Lake in NE Oregon, where the smoke promptly followed.  We scrapped our plan to do more kayaking or to ride the tram up the mountain (too hazy) but did a little biking and a rousing game of miniature golf where Yours Truly (non-golfer) sunk the last hole and won a free game.  Ha!  And Husband discovered a prime fishing spot (perhaps his new favorite) on the Wallowa river.  

We had heard the smoke was bad at home, so we stayed away until it was supposed to improve and then drove home, returning right after there had been a good soaking rain that everyone talked about the next day.  

Thoughts:

Any future traveling in Oregon, Washington, Idaho (and thereabouts) this time of year, should probably be towards the coast where it rains more.  Otherwise plan on smoke.  Or maybe wait until October.  It is the new normal.  

Idaho keeps its beauty hidden.  To find it, you must abandon I-84 and go north. 

Husband never felt claustrophobic.  (I think fishing-therapy played a part.)  We're ready to go farther.  Alaska.  Next year.  

Maybe next time we will take either the bikes or the kayak.  It all fit, but the van garage was crammed full.  

The dog was thrilled to get home.  

We love our van.  

 

Ebikes, baby!

Note:  Auto-correct is NOT happy about the word "ebike" and is fiercely fighting me each time I type it.  If you are also unfamiliar with it, it means electric bikes.  And we got some!  

In our previous life, Husband and I both rode regular bikes and had some glorious biking adventures.  We rode tandems and single bikes, hybrids and road bikes.  That all abruptly ended about 7-8 years ago with the acquisition of a motorcycle .... truly a happy event as far as the legs and Tush were concerned.   

Then, with the advance of lithium batteries, e b i k e s (take THAT, auto-correct!) exploded onto the scene with a plethora of different makes and models.  Back in the day (dang, that sounds old)  there used to be a manageable number of bike manufacturers .... Trek, Cannondale, Specialized, etc., and local shops sold many of them.  However, over months of researching e b i k e s, I kept encountering more and more brands.  And I'm talking dozens!  Test-riding them all was impossible.  Heck, without criss-crossing the USA and Canada, it was impossible to even SEE most of them before purchasing.  

About a year ago, a friend loaned us his Rad bike for a while, which is probably the most widely-known brand, and are only sold online.  But in the end, Husband chose the high-quality components of a Tern, and I wanted a lighter, low-step (think of the old girl-style bikes) and got a Magnum.  (I'll bet you never heard of either name.  See what I mean??)  We purchased both at local shops and both fold in half for easier packing into ..... you guessed it .... our van.  

In fact, the van was our main reason for getting e b i k e s.  We can travel to wherever, park, set up camp, and then ride the bikes to ... say ... go eat or explore, without having to undo all that setting up to drive somewhere.  Flawless plan, right?  

We figure it's best to carry them inside our vehicle, rather than on a rack, to avoid the sad possibility of them disappearing into the night.  And, as a nod to one of my previous posts about my delight in van mods, I installed straps in the van "garage" to keep the two folded bikes upright and separated, so they don't attack each other during transit.  

Speaking of mods ... on my bike I've added a front basket, different seat, and a mirror.  Husband tries to hold onto a semblance of his former youthful-biking-coolness but alas, I'm afraid, due to the big basket attached to his rear fender (for holding either groceries or dog) he will probably fall short of that goal.  I don't care how I look because, for me, this bike is not about appearances, it's about utility.   (Wouldn't matter anyway .....)  At least there are no more dreaded clip-in shoes (the cause of my two minor, previous-life bike crashes) nor any padded spandex whatsoever. 

My e b i k e (as do most) has two amazing features.  The first one is a throttle which I seldom use because the second feature -- "Peddle Assist" -- pretty much does it all.  I have the option of riding without engaging either of those features (nobody does that), or push a button and WHOOSH .... hills become a non-issue.  I still do enough peddling to get a respectable workout without rendering myself useless for the rest of the day.  (For those of you who know and care-- most of the time I'm in PA levels 1 or 2.)  The downside of this operation is that the battery must be recharged now and then, and for that, one must have the presence of mind to remember to do it.  Supposedly I should be able get well over 50 miles per charge, depending on how much peddling I do, but that remains to be tested.  One thing's for sure, you do NOT want to be caught mid-ride with a depleted battery because that would leave you with nothing but some seriously heavy slogging* to get home.  (*Impromptu term for manually pedaling an over 50-lb bike.)

My way of mentally dealing with the sticker-shock of a new bike is to ride it.  And that I have.  Well ... some.  The countryside where I live is decidedly dull and colorless and almost everywhere looks the same except for an occasional (and sometimes startlingly) massive canyon.  Not to mention, this time of year it's usually too hot to ride after nine a.m.  So far the Tush's limit is about 18 miles, but I have hopes that'll improve because there's a Dairy Queen in town that would entail a 30 mile round trip, give or take.  

This is at the Alvord Desert in SE Oregon which was on our Must Return list.  We first went there five years ago and I wrote about it here.  It was the perfect place (for me) to get used to a new type of bike because there is literally nothing (NOTHING!) you can run into.  The larger of those two specks in the distance is Husband on his bike, and the tiny speck is our dog in hot pursuit.  (Didn't have the basket yet.)

So time will tell.  All our former-life bikes are gone except for one (not mine) that hosts a thick layer of dust.   And hopefully this blasted heat wave will JUST STOP IT!  

STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!!

......... (See previous semi-grumpy post.)