2009 Alaska 1

Alaska and the Inside Passage 1

Journal kept by Susan Hanes during a trip to Alaska and the Inside Passage from September 6 to September 30, 2009. Photos by Susan Hanes and George Leonard, copyright 2009.

Alaska and the Inside Passage September 6-30, 2009 Alaska’s Of*icial Balladeer, “Hobo Jim” Varsos, sang a moving tribute to his adopted home when we heard him perform at the Yukon in Seward. His words captured what we found enchanting during our late summer trip around Alaska’s South Central and Southeast areas.

I stand strong with open arms, In my greatness I do care.

In my youth I am the future Of all who come to dare.

My heart is bold Denali Forever wild and free.

I crown America’s majesty: I am Alaska.

At more than twice the size of Texas, Alaska is the largest US state. It has more coastline than the rest of the United States combined and half the world’s glaciers. It has 29 volcanoes and the tallest mountain in North America. So there was a lot for us to see. We drove over 2000 miles in South Central Alaska, where the land is linked by roads (many miles of which are gravel). We traveled on eight ferries in the Southeast, where towns are linked by the Alaska Marine Highway. We ended our trip in British Columbia where we marveled at the unique and wondrous land we had seen and the kindness and uniqueness of the people, both native and adopted, who call Alaska home.

Sunday, September 6 Talkeetna Departed Chicago on Alaska Airlines 139 for Anchorage at 9:30

wonder we were authorized to drive it on gravel roads. After

on the last non-stop morning *light of the summer. Noted signs

interrupting Stan at the Alaska State Fair in Palmer with a call

warning of H1N1 Swine Flu as we waited in a short but

to his cell phone, learned a couple of tricks about keeping the

excruciatingly slow security line before boarding the plane.

engine from dying and continued on our way. Drove through

Many unsold seats so we were able to spread out. Six-hour

downtown Anchorage in search of Glenn Highway, which for

*light passed quickly and the only bumps were as we passed

twenty miles is a limited-access 4-lane road. About 30 miles

over the Alaskan Mountains nearing Anchorage; the pretty

west, traf*ic noticeably slowed by those heading to the State

sight made up for them. Impressed at the attractive

Fair. Proceeded just north of town to the Musk Ox Farm where

international airport. Encountered a snag when the Enterprise

I bought a qiviut scarf, lace-knitted by the native women of the

computer had no record of our rental car reservation. Were

Oomingmak Musk Ox Producers Cooperative. Soft and light, the

directed to try “A-1� and after some confusion, Stan of A-1

yarn made from the musk ox is fantastically warm. Took a

picked us up and drove us to his business, consisting of a rusty

quick drive through Palmer, *inding it totally unremarkable,

trailer in the middle of a lot full of broken down vehicles. He

before driving roughly 10 miles along the Palmer-Wasilla Road

scrounged up a Hundai Santa Fe SUV that looked acceptable

to the place where it intersected with AK Route 3, the Parks

from the outside. We learned pretty fast, however, that unless

Highway, at the eastern edge of Wasilla. Took a detour into

you continued to gun the motor, it had the tendency to die at

Wasilla and paused for a photo of the Wasilla Public Library

inopportune times. Also discovered that what we thought was

(home to some heavy censorship during the last gubernatorial

13,800 miles on the odometer was actually 138,000 miles. No

administration.)

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Talkeetna was about 60 miles away.

deepest gorge. It was twilight as we

Went immediately to the airport to

landed, exhilarated by the

secure a *light-seeing tour of Denali.

experience. Drove into Talkeetna for

Started at K2 Aviation, perhaps the

dinner. Tried the Fairview Inn, but a

largest of the four operators, but

rowdy crowd and loud music belied

were deterred from taking a *light on

its rather serene name. Settled on

one of their 10-passenger planes by

Twister Creek where we had

the bevy of hefty cruise-ship tourists

delicious satays and a couple of

who would have accompanied us.

beers from the on-site Denali

Proceeded to Hudson Aviation, the

Brewing Company. It was nearly

granddaddy of the four, and made

10:00 when we checked into

arrangements to take a 75-minute

Talkeetna Alaskan Lodge, located

tour but their pilot decided he’d had

high on a ridge behind town.

enough for the day and left us standing. Next, we crossed over to Talkeetna Air Taxi. At about 7:00 PM departed in a Cessna 185, piloted by a young woman named Danielle. I took the co-pilot’s seat and Jake sat in the tail. Ascending to 5,000 feet, crossed over the swampy area of the Tokositna and Chulitina Rivers, and rising to 8,000 feet, *lew up the Ruth Glacier, along North America’s

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Monday, September 7 Healy A bright morning greeted us, but the ground was wet when

the huge glass windows at the city spread out under the

we stepped outside the hotel, indicating rain last night. After

brilliant sun, I found it hard to imagine that in a few short

checking out, returned to town for a hearty breakfast at the

months this scene would be covered in many feet of snow and

quirky Talkeetna Roadhouse, built in 1914 to serve local

ice. Spent a couple of hours enjoying exhibits of the culture,

miners and trappers. Giant sourdough pancakes and thick

wildlife, geography and history of this vast and diverse state.

bacon were a great start to the day. After taking some

Bought a delicate and tightly woven baleen basket made of

pictures of the touristy establishments along Talkeetna’s

the *ibrous material from the mouth of the baleen whale,

main street, drove to the nearby cemetery for a look at the

through which it strains krill. Saw examples of this dying

Mount McKinley Climber’s Memorial, where I was awed to

native art in the museum as well. Visited Pioneer Park where

see the list of young adventurers who had lost their lives

we joined Fairbankers on a sunny Labor Day afternoon,

trying to conquer the mountains of the Alaskan Range. By

strolling past a collection of historic houses and one of the

then it was 10:30 and Jake was anxious for us to get going, for

last river paddleboats in Alaska that is now permanently

we had a lot of driving to do. Following Highway 3 towards

docked in the park. After a quick stop at a Safeway for water

Fairbanks, drove past golden aspen and dark spruce, thick as

and gas, retraced our way on Highway 3 to Healy, turning off

far as we could see, only occasionally allowing the blue-tinged

at Stampede Road just s the sun was setting. Checked into

mountains to peek through. A brief stop at the gate to Denali

Earth Song Lodge, 2000 feet up into the tundra, above the

National Park to pick up brochures and water and make sure

tree line. Owner Jon Nierenberg showed us to a tiny cozy log

we knew where to go tomorrow. Another hour and a half

cabin named “Eskimo.” After bowls of Earl’s gumbo at nearby

brought us into Fairbanks. Went directly to the Museum of

Henry’s Coffeehouse, snuggled into our cozy home

the North, a spectacular modern white building high over the

overlooking the park.

city on the campus of the University of Alaska. As I looked out

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Talkeetna

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Let children walk with nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communion of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life.

John Muir

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Museum of the North University of Alaska Fairbanks

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Tuesday, September 8 Healy Heard the haunting sound of howling dogs during the night;

South Carolina who seemed to be some kind of parody on

the alarm went off much too early at 6:00. Eggs and hash

Saturday Night Live. Probably in their late 60s, he sported a

browns at Henry’s with an interesting couple from Oregon

Clemson baseball cap and she, tousled blond hair. Some of her

who were returning to Alaska for a *ly-*ishing vacation. At

incessant questions to the driver: “Did the early settlers take

8:30, reported to the Denali Visitor’s Center where we

this road into the park?” “Are these mountains made of rock?”

boarded an old Blue Bird school bus for a 12-hour tour of the

“What is that white stuff on them?” and of course, “Are we

park, all the way to Kantisha. Our driver, Mike Reifel, has

there yet?” Mike was quite patient with her chatter but when

driven for the park for 12 years and was very familiar with

he described (with evident relish) the *inal hours of the tour as

park history and the habits of its wild inhabitants. Our drive

a drive on a narrow road with huge drop-offs, they decided not

began on a paved two-lane road that quickly became a two-

to continue with us but instead took the next bus back to the

lane dirt road and then a one-lane dirt road. The bus rumbled

visitor’s center. We were all delighted with their decision. Just

along the often-precipitous inclines, passing some of the most

after 8:30, the bus returned us to the center after a long but

striking scenery imaginable. Snow-capped jagged ridges of the

satisfying day. Before returning to the lodge, we stopped in

Alaska Range were set in a vast *ield of red dwarf birch and

Healy at Totem Inn Bar and Lounge where we enjoyed

bearberry that contrasted with golden aspen and blue-green

McKinley burgers and Alaska Ambers to the accompaniment

brush. Braided rivers, the result of glacier movement, widened

of 1980’s metal music pulsing from the jukebox.

to massive Martian-like plains of grey silt and water. Saw Dall sheep high on the hills and two strays who were grazing close to the road; a beaver carrying branches away to store for the winter; moose grazing next to some swans in a pool of water; a great golden eagle at the top of a tree; six grizzly bears and cubs off in the distance; and caribou, one in the process of molting. And present over all of this wild beauty, the grandeur of Denali, sometimes hidden behind nearby hills, but never quite out of mind in the great park that bears its name. The group on the bus was an international lot that included Germans, Brits, Indians and Japanese—and a couple from

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Moose

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Wednesday, September 9 McCarthy After breakfast at Henry’s, served up by a rather dour

great example of Alaskan hospitality. While I had a

Earle, had a quick tour of Jon’s High Camp Kennels.

cup of coffee, young Terry changed the tire for us.

Melissa introduced us to the dogs that make up their

Then seventy-four miles brought us into Glenallen

sledding team and told us about the experience of

where, after some *inagling, we bought a new spare

mushing. She explained that the number of dogs one

and were on our way to Chitina by 4:30 with a new

takes on a sled depends upon how many one can

respect for gravel roads. Started the McCarthy road at

control; she is now up to nine but Jon can manage

5:45. For 60 miles, the gravel road traces the

twelve. Away at 10:00 to Cantwell where we made a

abandoned Copper River & Northwest Railroad bed

quick stop at the post of*ice (located in a trailer) to

that was used to transport copper from the Kennecott

buy some Alaska commemorative stamps. On the

(note spelling) Mines to Cordova. Spectacular views

Denali Road by 10:30. Making our way along the

of the Copper River and golden aspens re*lected in

gravel highway saw evidence of the hunting season

glassy ponds made the two-and-half hour drive seem

everywhere: ATVs, airboats, campers and shot-out

like much less. At the Kennicott River, the road ended

signs dotted the road. The topography became a

and we parked and crossed the river on a footbridge.

barren plain with low hillocks covered with red and

Called Ma Johnson’s from the pay phone provided

gold, framed by purple mountains in the distance.

and a few minutes later, Darin picked us up at the

Ascended to Maclaren Pass, at 4086 feet, one of the

foot of the bridge in the Golden Saloon van (“Night

highest passes in Alaska. Just as we were leaving the

time is the right time at the Golden Saloon.”) Beer and

gravel road, I heard a telltale *lapping sound. We had

chicken paprika at the Lodge across the street before

a *lat tire. Unbelievably fortunate to be less than a

crawling into our quilt-covered bed at quaint and

quarter-mile from Tangle River Inn, “the angler’s

quirky Ma Johnson’s.

home away from home,” where we experienced a 27

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Copper River

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Thursday, September 10 McCarthy Cozy night in our miniscule room—uncomplicated, too, as

poured into bags and loaded on railcars. Somehow the massive

there is no cell coverage and no electrical outlet in the room, so

deteriorating machines had an odd beauty and we came away

no calling, charging or emailing. Hair drying is a somewhat

with an appreciation of the challenges—and noise!—endured

public affair as the only way to use the dryer is to stand in the

by the hardy employees of Stephen Birch, founder of the

hall and use the single vacuum outlet. Crossed over for

Kennecott Mines Company in 1906. Walked around the little

breakfast at the Lodge at 7:30. The 9:00 shuttle took us up to

community with its red and white wooden buildings, including

Kennicott where we joined another couple for the 9:30 tour of

a dormitory, school, hospital, and social hall. Visited the shop

the Kennecott Mill given by St. Elias Mountain Guides under

where Jake bought an Alaskan jade belt buckle. Sweet potato

the auspices of the National Park Service. Our guide was Kate,

soup at the Kennicott Lodge before catching the shuttle back

a perky pre-med student from Grand Rapids. She gave us a

down to McCarthy at 1:30. (Note that Kennicott the town and

brief history of the mill, starting in 1900 when Jack Smith and

Kennecott the company are spelled differently due to a

Clarence Warner spotted a large green patch on a

misspelling back at the time of the mill’s establishment.) Neil

mountainside between Kennicott Glacier and McCarthy Creek,

Darish, owner of most of McCarthy, opened the gift shop there

thus discovering one of the richest copper deposits ever found.

for us and we bought several pieces of jewelry made by local

Had to sign a waiver to tour the 14 *loors of the abandoned

people of local minerals. While Jake took a nap, I sat in Ma

mill, much of which was greatly deteriorated, accelerated by a

Johnson’s parlor by the heater and wrote in my journal.

*lood in 2002. Directed to wear hard hats to avoid bumping

Unfortunately, was accosted by Larry, an excessively talkative

our heads on low pipes and passageways. Started with the top

fellow guest who was oblivious to my interest in writing. He

*loor and worked our way down as Kate described the milling

was soon joined by his wife, Char, and I had to pack it up.

process from the largest boulders to tiny pebbles that were

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Kennecott Mines National Historic Landmark

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At 6:00 Jake and I headed to the Golden Saloon for a beer.

The place quickly *illed with local people in anticipation of the last “open mic” evening of the season, when local musicians and performers gather to socialize and share their music. Asked a young woman about her boots and discovered that she and Jake had attended the same high school in Oak Park. At 7:00, moved to the Lodge for a special “Snout to Tail” dinner, prepared by the Lodge chefs, one of whom had worked for Thomas Keller at the French Laundry and the other at Public in New York.

They each worked their magic on one half of a full pig. Sat at a communal table with Babette and John McCarthy (no relation to the town) from Boise and their son, Zack, who is in the Coast Guard. Great food and wines (Jake was particularly impressed with their wine list) and good conversation; hope we can connect with them again someday. After several glasses of wine at the table after dinner, back to the saloon for the entertainment. Darin was there wearing his Tool tee-shirt and Jake took a photo of us. Kate, our tour guide, sang in Portuguese, accompanying herself on the guitar. A very funny guy named Monty told stories about his experiences with the tourists. Such fun to see the enjoyment of those who had worked together and become friends over the summer in McCarthy.

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Friday, September 11 Near Sutton (on the Glenn Highway) Both of us were moving slowly this morning and got to

miles to Glenallen, gassed up and turned onto the scenic

breakfast just before they stopped serving. As the sky

Glenn Highway towards Anchorage. Just past Eurika pass,

looked fairly bright, packed up our things and made

found Sheep Mountain Inn (recommended by Neil) where

arrangements for another *light-seeing tour, this time with

we stopped for the night. Fresh Alaskan halibut and

Wrangell Mountain Air of McCarthy. Decided on the 50-

Amber on tap at the hotel restaurant and then to bed in an

minute “Backcountry Tour.� Pilot Bill McKinney took the

immaculate little log cabin.

two of us up in a Cessna 170 and *lew us past Mile-High Cliffs, to the con*luence of the Rohn and Regal Glaciers.

Also passed Chimney Mountain, West Fork Icefalls and the Kennicott Glacier Basin, and had a close look at the Erie Mine perched 4000 feet above the mill we had toured yesterday. The air around the mountains was a little less stable than we had experienced on our Talkeetna *light and I did not want to extend our airtime past the 50 minutes. We still had dramatic views of the amazing topography and he enthusiastically explained all that we were seeing. Returned to the hotel and picked up our suitcases, and Neil gave us a ride back to the footbridge were we redeemed our car. By 1:30 we were on the McCarthy Road back to Chitina. Continued to retrace the

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Saturday, September 12 Seward

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Over our sourdough pancakes and reindeer sausage at

conditions are like in the morning. Drove around town—all

breakfast, watched the hotel owner’s lively sled dogs from

three square blocks of it—and chose a hotel for the night. The

the restaurant window. Innkeeper Zack Steer is a lifelong

Hotel Seward is an historic hotel in the center of things

Alaskan who has run both the Iditarod and Yukon Quest dog

where we were offered a lovely room with a gas *ireplace.

sled races. Just after 9:00 were back on the road towards

Many of the cyclists are also staying here, which is probably

Anchorage. Although the day was grey, the scenery was

the reason why we were offered only the best room in the

dramatic; Matanuska Glacier was glistening white against its

house or one without a bath. Dropped our things off and

grey shoulders. Started to pick up a little rain along the way.

drove to Major Marine Tours to see what their cruise deals

Joined Highway 1 in Anchorage for the remaining 113 miles

were like. Much the same; only one cruise a day at this time

to Seward; the rain increased as we went. Chugah State Park

of year. We will make our decision about cruising tomorrow

on Cook Inlet must be beautiful when it isn’t shrouded in

when we see what kind of day it will be. Walked down the

clouds; too bad. As we headed to the Kenai Peninsula, what

main shopping street of Seward and poked into Brown &

would have been a spectacular drive was badly obscured by

Hawkins, the oldest store in Alaska under the same

rain and clouds. Saw evidence of milder temperatures and

ownership where I bought a pair of warm socks. Stopped in

lower longitude in the pale green of the trees that were only

at the Seward Ale House and watched football from “the

touched by gold. Passed groups of cyclists along the road

lower 48” over Alaskan ales. At around 6:00, drove a couple

participating in some kind of race that did not appear to be

of miles out to Exit Glacier Road for dinner at Salmon Bake

particularly competitive. Arrived in Seward at 1:30; gassed

after reading about it on a posted *lier for an art bene*it there

up and I replenished my supply of nutrition bars at Safeway.

tomorrow evening. What a fun place! Really laid back and

Spoke with a woman at Kenai Glacier Tours about their

local, and fabulous salmon. I am so glad that my *irst Alaskan

cruises in Kenai National Park. As it is the end of the season,

salmon in Alaska was so memorable. I hope that we are able

they only run a single tour each day; we will wait to see what

to return tomorrow if our cruise timing works out.

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Sunday, September 13 Seward After a restful night in a comfortable bed, the

pieces of ice detach from the glacier with no warning

“*ireplace” *lickering invitingly all night, awoke to an

and splash down into the water. Saw two kinds of

even greyer day, with a steady rain falling and fog on

puf*ins, horned and tufted, sea lions lounging on the

the mountainside that totally obscured the far side of

rocks in a hidden cove, and the smaller white harbor

Resurrection Bay. Nonetheless, after stopping in again

seals making their way into the water from the land.

at the Kenai Fjords Tours, we decided to go ahead a

Returned at 5:30 and after a brief stop to buy another

book the 6-hour tour of the National Park. Naturally we

pair of the great socks I had picked up yesterday, went

were assured that conditions were *ine on the water

back to our hotel room to warm up and prepare for the

and that rain only deters humans, not the wildlife we

evening.

hoped to see. As we were not boarding until 10:45, had time to run across the street for breakfast at the Bakery Café on Harbor Street where I had the best bagels I have ever tasted. At 10:45, boarded the Tanaina under Captain Chris and were underway. Heavy overcast gave way to clouds and even some sun as we left Resurrection Bay and headed out to the Kenai National Park, 90% of which is ice. During our cruise, paused for 40 minutes at the Aialik Glacier. The captain turned off the motors and we listened to the haunting groaning of the ice, our cameras poised for any calving, when

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At 6:45, drove to the Salmon Bake, now closed for the season, but open especially for an evening bene*itting the Seward Arts Council that we had learned about yesterday. By the time we got there, we saw that a lot of folks had gotten there before us— perhaps 100— which was apparently far more than they had expected, for the wait staff was in a mad rush to serve the standing room only crowd. Paid our SAC membership and got our colorful mugs and our tickets for salmon sandwiches and beer. Watched the festivities, from country *iddlers to belly dancers. At the silent auction, successfully bid on some silver earrings made by a woman in Moose Pass. Ate outside in the chill as the inside tables were packed to the gills. Talked to a young woman in heavy eye makeup named Timber who worked at the Seward Public Library.

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Back into town by 9:00 and stopped at Yukon Bar; saw the

1:30, taking with us three CDs given to us by Hobo Jim

advertisement for “Stoopid Tourist Night” on a banner

himself, and warm memories of Alaskan hospitality. As we

outside. Warmly welcomed by Missy, the barkeeper, and

drove the three blocks to the hotel, ours was the only car

her husband Jim, a friendly guy with long Jim-Morrisonish

in sight. Jake made a rolling stop at the town’s one stop

grey hair and a slightly inebriated smile. The Yukon had a

sign, and out of nowhere, a police car followed us to the

great atmosphere; the huge bar was decorated with guns

hotel. Jake was given a sobriety test and asked us a lot of

and Alaska memorabilia, including a liquor license from

questions. Good news that he was well under the legal

the old Alaska Territory days. The mounted head of Bitsy

limit and a half hour later we were up in bed.

the bear held the place of honor, a tennis shoe placed in her mouth as testament to her legendary past. Were introduced to “Hobo Jim” Varsos, Alaska’s State Balladeer, who had been commissioned by Governor Sarah Palin to write a song in celebration of the 50th year of Alaska’s statehood. Hobo Jim provided the entertainment for the evening, singing ballads and old rock n’ roll favorites and a powerful rendition of his “I Am Alaska.” He played “Country Roads” for a group from Czech Republic; they knew all the words in Czech. Had the best seats in the house for the Stoopid Tourist contest, consisting of funny stories submitted by various local people, as well as a tourist costume contest. Met some wonderful people, including Nik and Cindy who bought us a couple of “Duck Farts”—shots with Bailey’s and whiskey that went down easily. At midnight, Missy rang the giant triangle hanging over the bar and the drinks were on the house. We left at

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I am the raven’s call, The Nootka cedar standing tall, I break the silence of the fog Over icy waterfalls; I’m an eagle when he *lies In a clear blue mountain sky.

Hear the sound of freedom’s cry: I am Alaska.

Well, I am the one who’s come, With a harpoon and a drum Over frozen trails I’ve traveled To a land of midnight sun I’m a howling husky team I am every miner’s dream Laying golden in the stream I am Alaska.

Hobo Jim Alaska's Official Balladeer

I stand strong with open arms, In my greatness I do care And in my youth I am the future Of all who come to dare.

My heart is bold Denali Forever wild and free I crown America’s majesty I am Alaska.

Well, I built a railway north, Her harbors and her ports, And I cut the Al-Can highway With the coming of the war.

I’ve harvested her oceans On many a stormy sea, And I’m as proud as I can be: I am Alaska.

I am the farmer’s hand Who broke this hardened land Into these fertile valleys Where now my children stand.

I’m a roughneck standing soil A driller who has toiled So the world can have my oil; I am Alaska.

I stand strong with open arms, In my greatness I do care.

In my youth I am the future Of all who come to dare.

My heart is bold Denali Forever wild and free.

I crown America’s majesty: I am Alaska.

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Monday, September 14 Homer Rainy morning; returned to the bakery for another of those

season tourist (I guess that included us). Sat at the heavily-

bagels and then on the road to Homer by 10:15. Weather

carved bar under a ceiling of dollar bills and read various signs

improved a bit as we drove south along AK 1. Brief stop in

as, “Homer: a quaint drinking village with a *ishing problem”

Ninilchik to photograph a 1901 Russian onion-domed church

and “Grow your own dope—plant a man” and “Practice safe sex

and the surrounding cemetery with its white picket cribs and

—go f**k yourself.” Jake talked to a fellow from Baltimore who

orthodox crosses, overlooking Cook Inlet. Reached Homer after

was in Homer for temporary work at the oyster farm. When Jake

1:30; found it quite ugly on this grey afternoon, the beauty of the

asked him what kind of oysters they were farming, he answered,

bay and the snowy mountains beyond subdued by the rusting

“Small, medium, and large.” Dinner at Captain Pattie’s Fish

machinery of what is a busy port at other times of the year.

House on the spit, billed as “the best seafood restaurant in

Drove around to determine our best option for a hotel. Decided

America.” Not sure about that. Our seafood samplers of salmon,

on Land’s End, located at the very end of the spit, with a *ine

halibut, prawns and scallops were *ine, but we were both feeling

view of Kachemak Bay and the mountains and glaciers on the

a little punk. While we waited for a table, saw in the window

other side. After dropping our bags in the room, crossed back

that a nearby shop had a nice selection of baleen baskets. Two

over to town to look at the shops. Found a tiny antique heart of

women who were standing nearby told us that, although the

old ivory and a baleen and walrus ivory bracelet at the Art Shop

shop was pretty much closed for the season, the owner was in

Gallery on Pioneer Street. Also went to the Bunnell Street

Captain Pattie’s having dinner. Linda worked for the Chamber of

Gallery where Jake bought a green jar by a local potter. Back

Commerce and offered to go in and ask if he would open the

across the spit, looked for some evidence of an active *ishing

shop after he *inished eating. After a few minutes, out he came,

industry but found the scene pretty depressing—no *ishermen

happy to oblige. Saw a triple basket by Harry Hank that we both

in sight, lots of ruined boats and rusting scrap, some closed

loved, but now had a problem, having purchased one by his

businesses and others empty. At the Salty Dawg, tried the local

mother, Marilyn, in Fairbanks. Need to think about how to

home brew, bottled in recycled Aztec Tea bottles. Not great; and

handle this. Back at Land’s End, we both collapsed into bed with

the place itself was so tacky as to be trite. At least it was

the soft sounds of the waves lulling us to sleep.

populated, mostly by local workers and the occasional late64

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Tuesday, September 15 Homer The sun was burning off the clouds over the bay as I

Darkened Waters, about the 1989 Exxon-Valdez

woke to *ind the *ishermen already out on the water.

disaster, when 11 million gallons of crude oil was

Drove across to Old Town for breakfast at Two Sisters

spilled in wildlife-rich Prince William Sound, befouling

Bakery, a crunchy-granola kind of place with kids

1300 miles of coastline. The accompanying *ilm was

playing in the back and people coming and going with

very moving—and very troubling. Spent the rest of the

their lattes and scones. At one table, a guy worked on

afternoon looking at baleen baskets at The Sea Lion and

his laptop with a sticker that said, “Alaska Grown.”

Inua. Finally decided to buy the *inely woven triple

Ordered coffee and sticky buns and sat in the corner.

basket by Harry Hank. Glen Lyon, owner of The Sea

Our *irst concern of the day was to contact the museum

Lion, has grown very familiar with the baleen artists

in Fairbanks and see if we can return the baleen basket

over the years, and told us how Harry had shown up at

we had bought there. Called and they said that it would

his shop more than twenty years ago, a strapping fellow

be no problem. Next we found a Fed Ex outlet at a

of 19. Glen said that when he came in the door, he was

nearby of*ice supply store where they packed up the

so big that Glen felt a little intimidated. Then Harry

basket and sent it on its way. While I waited for Jake to

pulled this delicate little basket from beneath his shirt

write a cover letter to enclose, noticed the piles of

and held it out in his large, beefy hand. From then on,

cartons marked “Fresh Seafood” especially made for

Harry was a favorite. Back in our room, sat out on the

shipping your catch back home. Our errand completed,

deck and enjoyed the view of the bay over the remains

drove out along the bluff on East End Drive, elevated

of the wine we had taken out of Captain Pattie’s. Just

above the bay, with glacier views framed by *laming

before 6:00, drove back out to the Homestead where we

*ireweed. Stopped to check out the menu at the famed

enjoyed halibut and sable *ish along with a

Homestead Restaurant and called on my cell for a 6:00

Marlborough sauvignon blanc. On the way back stopped

reservation. Back in town, visited the Pratt Museum

a couple of times to take pictures of an amazing sunset

where we went through displays explaining the *ishing

that created a most unusual effect re*lected on the

industry in Homer as well as several aquariums with

mountains across the bay.

*ish and sea urchins. There was a moving section called 68

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Wednesday, September 16 Juneau Up early as we had a long drive into Anchorage. A

villages all over the state to sell their handicrafts.

triple wake-up at 6:00, in fact: a beeping alarm

Timed our visit to coincide with their limited hours

(Jake’s clock), Big Ben (my iPhone), and cheesy rock

but when we got to the door—Closed!—just for today

(clock radio that I didn’t mean to set). Dark and

for a meeting of their auxiliary. Pressed our noses

raining as we drove out across the spit. Found

against the windows to see all the treasures inside. A

Duncan House Diner on Pioneer Street to be one of

woman who saw us pointed out the extensive display

the only places open at 7:00; old-timey place with a

cases on each *loor and we made our way up the *ive

big clock that reminded us “Time to Eat.” Water

*lights of stairs, enjoying the examples of the best of

served in Mason jars, biscuits and thick gravy,

native art. It was like a museum, with *ine examples

restrooms designated “pointer” and “setter” with

of scrimshaw, baskets, ivory carving and metal work.

cartoonish doggie *igures on the doors. Back on the

The medical center itself is lovely and very ethnic in

road at 8:00 for the 220 miles to Anchorage. Just past

style; we saw its posted goal: “Making Native

Anchor Point, saw a moose near the side of the road;

Alaskans the healthiest people in the world.” Found

he crossed over to the other side as we were trying to

our way back to the ramshackle A-1 rental place and

turn around for a picture and we could only get back

turned in our car, having added 2200 miles to the

to see him disappear into the forest. Fair amount of

138,000 it had when we picked it up. Finding it was

rain as we got into town just after noon. Went to the

no easy feat as there was no address indicated on

Alaska Native Medical Center; had read that they had

their card or the rental contract.

a craft shop where native Alaskans came from their

72

Arrived back at the Anchorage airport in plenty of

atmosphere with lots of air-related memorabilia. We

time for our 3:30 departure on the “milk run” to

were shown to a booth up a couple of steps and, as

Juneau. Grabbed sandwiches before we boarded as

we waited for our order to arrive, took pictures of

dinner this evening might be dif*icult. Forty-minute

each other. I wanted to change places with Jake so

*light to Cordova, where we *lew through the cloud-

that I could take a picture and, holding my glass of

covered mountains and arrived at Mule K. “Mudhole”

beer, made a move to the other side of the table. I

Smith Airport. Stayed on board while we picked up

missed one step and then the other and went down

passengers to Yakutat and were on our way again in

hard, hitting my head on the *loor, glass *lying

less than 20 minutes. Bumpy *light through clouds.

everywhere. Fortunately, *irst to my assistance was

Picked up about 50 additional passengers for our

Jeanne, an ER nurse from the nearby hospital who

*inal leg to Juneau. At 6:30 we resumed the *light,

was there for dinner. 911 was called immediately and

arriving with even more bumps at Juneau at 8:00.

I was transported to Bartlett Regional Hospital by

Juneau is one of the most dif*icult airports in the

ambulance where Dr. Alan McPherson, a most

world to negotiate, with mountains, low clouds, and

charming Scot, sewed up a deep laceration on my

unusual air patterns, and Alaska Airlines pilots are

head and ordered a CT scan to determine if I had any

among the industry’s most skilled. Taxi to Silver Bow

further injuries. Another kindness I received was a

B&B to *ind that they had reserved our room for the

note from Lori, our waitress at the Hanger, who had

wrong nights. Fortunately, they had one room left; I

come to the hospital and offered to drive us back to

would hate to be sleeping out on a park bench

our hotel. Eventually I was released and we took a

somewhere. Walked two blocks to the Hanger, once

taxi to the Silver Bow. Boy do I have a doozy of a

the Alaska Coastal Float Plane Hanger. A fun

goose egg on my forehead.

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Cordova

74

Yakutat

Thursday, September 17 Skagway When I woke up this morning, found my eye swollen

next day, there would be no train then either; we would have to

completely shut and a dark shade of purple. Nonetheless we are

*ind our diversions in town. Carl’s father-in-law picked us up

proceeding with our plans today to take the Alaska State Ferry

and drove us the short distance to the Skagway Inn (formerly a

to Skagway. Taxi picked us up at the hotel at 6:30 and dropped

bordello.) Shown to Hattie’s, a small room that should have

us at the terminal; further complication was that the schedule

been a single, with a springy mattress, *loral quilt and claw-foot

had changed (again, end of the season issues) and was due into

tub. Joined slews of tour-boat passengers from the Princess

Skagway just as the train was scheduled to depart. Everyone

Coral and the Princess Star as we walked along the boardwalk

did their best to make sure we made the connection—Carl, the

of one of the best-preserved gold-rush towns in the US with its

innkeeper in Skagway, and the passenger services person on

colorfully painted century-old buildings maintained by the

the ferry—we couldn’t ask for more than that. Our vessel was

Klondike Gold Rush National Historical Park. Sarsaparilla bars

the M/V Fairweather, a catamaran built in 2004 in Bridgeport,

and brothels have been replaced by the Skagway Brewing

CT that holds 250 passengers and 35 vehicles. Cruising through

Company and Alaska Fudge and Tee Shirts, as well as countless

the Gastineau to the Favorite Channel at a maximum speed of

jewelry stores with distinctly Princess-cruise-sounding names

50 mph, we found the water to be calm, in spite of a steady rain.

like Venetia Jewels or Milano Gold. Nonetheless, the overall

At Haines, stopped to take on additional passengers and

impression was very pleasant. We watched a *ilm about the

vehicles, an unscheduled stop that ended up taking an hour and

Gold Rush at the National Park Visitors’ Center where we got a

a half, making us a half-hour late into Skagway, even though

sense of the prospectors’ struggles over the passes to the

every attempt was made to make up the time. By the time we

Klondike. For a change of pace, had a hot Thai dinner at Star*ire.

hurried off the ship in Skagway, the White Pass and Yukon

As we walked back to the hotel, noted the total change of

narrow-gauge train that we had hoped to take had already

atmosphere once the tourists have returned to the ships.

departed. And as there were no cruise ships scheduled for the

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77

Skagway, then ...

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... and now

We landed in wind-swept Skagway. We joined the weltering mass, Clamoring over their out*its, waiting to climb the Pass.

We tightened our girths and our pack-straps; we linked on the Human Chain, Struggling up to the summit, where every step was a pain.

Gone was the joy of our faces, grim and haggard and pale; The heedless mirth of the shipboard was changed to the care of the trail.

The Trail of Ninety Eight

By Robert Service 79

Friday, September 18 Juneau

80

A squeaky night in Hattie’s bed, listening to a steady rain.

touches. Had a glass of wine in the parlor while they

Early breakfast at the inn (they only serve from 7:00-8:00.)

continued to work outside and then a little before 6:00,

Walked along the quiet streets, looking more and more like

walked down Main Street past the Capitol Building and then

the beginning of the long winter: steady mist falling, sale

to the historic area of South Franklin Street, where we

signs in every window, only an occasional car in the wide

looked in windows and got a feel for the area. Saw that only

main street. Carl dropped us off at the Alaska Marine

one cruise ship was in port in spite of the fact that Juneau

Terminal for our noon departure back to Juneau, again on

receives more than a million cruise ship visitors during its

the Fairweather. Interim stop in Haines, arriving in Juneau

four-month tourist season. Had dinner reservations back at

at around 4:30. Rushed off the boat to get a taxi and

the Hanger for 6:30. They were waiting for us and we were

managed to get the second of two. Fourteen miles into town

seated in a booth by a window— with no steps. Lori, our

and then a couple of blocks up the hill from the Silver Bow

waitress from the other night, greeted us warmly and we

to Alaska’s Capitol B&B, a frame house from the early 1920s

thanked her for her kindness to us the night of my accident.

attractively furnished with Stickley furniture and Arts and

During our meal, one of the managers came by to see how I

Crafts rugs and wallpaper. Linda, the innkeeper, met us at

was doing. Lori gave us tee shirts from the Hanger and

the door; she and Duffy (the Scottie) had been taking

when it came time to settle up, we found that our bill had

advantage of the mild weather to do a little gardening. Our

been taken care of. An early night, as we have the 7:30 AM

room was light and airy, meticulously clean, with thoughtful

ferry to Sitka tomorrow.

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Volume 1