An old stove with its oven door hanging open sits in the front yard.  The sign atop it?  “Open Range”.   Just a quick sampling of Yukon humor.  Keep in mind that they have very log winters and in lots of places not so much as a radio station for entertainment.

Lasting impressions as we cross into Canada heading south.

Alaska screams.  Rugged, craggy mountain ranges thrust into the sky with shoulders cloaked in rivers of ice.  Frigid, silt laden rivers tumble across miles of moraine in intricate intertwined braids.  Glaciers creek and moan and pop before pieces crash into the still waters of lakes and fjords.  Fireweed and bluebells paint entire hillsides in brilliant hues.

Alaska whispers.  Mamas talk to their young from tiny ducklings to the enormous moose.  A lone wildflower clings precariously to the crumbs of soil on a rock strewn peak.  The lifeless bodies of thousands of spawned-out salmon drift back toward the sea.  The sun bakes.

My most favorite thing?

Watching all manner of wildlife as they interact; mamas and young and larger groups or colonies.  The very best, the musk ox family in the wild up along the Dalton highway.  The loon who swam right up to my kayak rates up there too.

The most amazing thing?

Flight seeing over Wrangell-St. Elias national Park.  It was phenomenal.  Colossal. Indescribable.

The most unexpected thing?

Shore birds like yellow legs, gulls, and plovers along icy shores and high in the pine trees.   Pelagic birds like the long-tailed jaeger that lives nearly all its life at sea soaring over the tundra hunting mice/voles.

The most “Alaska” thing?

Permafrost.  It shapes so much of the Alaska we see.

The underbelly

When we travel through a place slowly we see a bit more of the less than perfect.  The powers that be on the Kenai are struggling mightily to repair damage done to pristine salmon spawning habitat by thousands of anglers’ boots.  Salmon runs are a fraction of their historic numbers.  Gold mining has a fantastic colorful history but has left ugly scars on many beautiful creek beds and valleys.  The very roads that allow us to visit so much of Alaska were a huge environmental impact when built and continue to affect the area by accelerating melting of permafrost.

First and foremost GRAND scenery of an indescribable scale & friendly people.

Road conditions: You have to drive here, not set the cruise control and forget it.  Roads are actually not as bad as many of the stories you may have heard.  We drove 800+ miles of the infamous “haul road” to Prudhoe Bay of Ice Road Truckers fame.  Many locals asked why and were amazed, then admitted they had never been there themselves.  We drove the “Top of the World” highway to Dawson City and Chicken AK.  As Lynn noted we also drove the McCarty Road to Wrangell-St Elias NP, another legendary “bad” road.  Those who have skipped these highways, have missed beautiful parts of the state.  To travel here you should be well prepared and self-reliant.  Conditions dictate your travel speed.  We have driven roads suitable for 80 mph to only 5 mph, sometimes in very close proximity and changing weather.

My favorite thing, kayaking among the icebergs right after they calved off a glacier.  Not something you can do in very many places.

You are much more likely to see an aurora borealis if you go outside in the middle of the night.  The folks in McCarthy pointed this out to us

Two back country Alaska towns are enveloped in the Park.  Chitina marks the end of the paved road with a handful of business, mostly bed and breakfast, plus a fantastic shop filled with art and hand crafted items from around Alaska; Spirit Mountain Artworks.  I loved the pottery oil lamps and spirit animal jewelry.  Most interesting were scarves and shawls made by felting merino wool onto crushed silk.  They are light as air and covered in swirls of muted natural greens and blues or bright reds, orange and yellow.  It is in a 1910 restored tin shop that is the perfect setting for these works.  I browsed but didn’t buy but still thoroughly enjoyed the visit.  The Gilpatrick Hotel stands on a prominent corner downtown.  We wandered in to look at historic photos and just had to try coffee and a sweet. Kent’s bourbon pecan pie was sort of a cross between a gooey shoe-fly pie made with black strap molasses and pecan pie with a layer of crust between them rather than on top.  A bit odd but he cleaned his plate.  Oh yeah, we saw the town moose.  He was hanging out lakeside downtown.

McCarthy is more entwined in the mining history of the area.  It was actually the party town for the miners whenever they managed to get a little time off.  The Golden Saloon is still a central fixture on the main street and it’s a happening place.  There was a story telling contest set for the evening the day we passed through.  The locals run a pretty good museum with lots of mining town memorabilia.  It is interesting to see what survives and makes its way into these small town museums.

Maybe it’s a show for the tourists but it seems like everybody knows everybody and they all seem to have an interest in each other’s success.  What a comfortable thought.

Oddly somebody raises Yaks in Alaska.  Not sure why but we saw them on our drive out to Kennecott

A bit of yellow is appearing as the fall colors begin.  Berries are ripe.  The thermometer showed 30F briefly yesterday morning.  Time to start south.

By car:  We fretted and debated as we considered whether to drive the 58 miles out Edgerton Road into the Park.  Scary stories litter the internet blogs about railroad spikes and ties jutting out of the road surface (it is built on an old rail bed) just waiting to puncture a tire.  One is led to believe that is as all teeth chattering washboard and car swallowing potholes.  We briefly considered taking a shuttle.  Anyone that knows Kent knows that even thinking of having someone else drive us somewhere is a rare event at our house.  Ultimately, we took our own car and took our sweet time, three hours each way.  It is by far not the worst road we have been on.

By air: 70 glorious minutes dancing among the mountain tops and glaciers.  We went flightseeing in a little 4 seater with Austin at Wrangell Air.  What a marvelous way to see this magnificent place.  A short way into the flight I lost track of which mountain was which and the names of many glaciers and rivers.  I was just totally absorbed in watching it unfold all around us.  Neither pictures nor words can really describe the sights.  The scale is nearly impossible to fathom as we glided along mile high cliffs, unbelievably broad braded rivers, and glaciers that are miles wide and covered with fissures and crevasse that are hundreds of feet deep.  The flow patterns of glacier ice and ancient uplifted stone are amazing.             

But why here?

This park has two goals: to preserve this vast wilderness and to preserve and interpret the human footprint on this land.  Specifically the mining of ultra high grade copper ore by the Kennecott Mining Co in the early 1900s.  That mining is why this washboardy, potholey, road to the heart of the wilderness exists.   We traipsed through Kennecott, the mining town, and learned all about ore processing/concentrating and marveled at the 196 mile railroad they built solely to move that ore to the coast.  I can’t help but marvel at the whole process.  They found this lode of ore in the middle of nowhere.  They convinced investors to fund it to the tune of $30 million (1920 dollars) before they saw the first load of ore come out.  They actually constructed the processing plant perched in a glacier filled valley dug mines on the mountainsides far above it.  They got the ore out of there and to market in NYC at what they calculate was .05/lb to yield some $200,000,000 in profits before the lode was depleted.  Then, they just walked away and left it all; another ghost town with an amazing story.

I am sure that this is the longest line I have ever stood in.  We arrived at about 11:45 and the gates open at noon.  Lots of folks were already waiting.

New this year and not at all typical of fairs I have ever been to: full contact jousting.  We checked out the demo just to see what it is all about.  These guys get all suited up in clanky, shiny armor and ride some big war horses at one another.  Lances splinter and pieces fly.  It sure looks like real hits.  I got to meet Max, short for Maximus, before the demo.  That may have been the best part.  He is a beautiful black Percheron that is ridden by the black knight.

Also unexpected but probably fitting for up here:  The lumberjack show complete with axe throwing, log rolling, pole climbing, cross saw competitions and chain saw contests.

Grilled halibut from the local native tribe’s food booth. 

Hobo Jim with stories in song all about wild Alaska.   Hobo is a pretty amazing guitar player.

Beyond that it looks a lot like Indiana’s state fair.  There isn’t much big livestock but they judged all the other stuff, bunnies, chickens, veggies, flowers, baked goods, jelly and jam, clothing, quilts, pictures, art, and more.  They have a wine, liqueur, and homebrew category.  I don’t think Indiana ever had that.  Carnival rides of course and all sorts of carnival food.  We walked and watched and sampled yummy treats.  It was a great day.

Into Anchorage to grocery shop, do laundry (oh fun), visit the post office, and pick up parts to fix the tow brakes on the car.   Got that all accomplished then on to Palmer for a day at the State Fair.