Monday, we awakened to a good steady rain which continued throughout the day. The rain was sufficient for us to alter our departure and we sat out the day snug as a bug in a rug. They need the rain throughout the State and thus, everyone greeted the rain as “manna from heaven”.
Tuesday there was a thinner cloud cover and by the time we were ready to depart the “inlet”, the clouds begin to part and there before us were towering mountains with glaciers and snow covered peaks that seemed to go on forever. For the first time we saw the Valdez that we were sure existed but had not seen. The inlet and the rugged peaks that surround it seemed to reflect what one expects to find where life is sustained by the sea (and, in this case, by the oil that flows from Prudo Bay).
The skies were most cooperative as we climbed from the seashore into the mountain passes and viewed the beautiful mountain peeks that were buried in smoke on our trip into Valdez. As we have traveled throughout this State, I have wondered if I may have been “scenic deprived” in my lifetime. I do not think that I have ever seen an area of beauty as intense as this. Granted, one needs a clear day to see it, but when that happens, the beauty is breathtaking. I smiled as Ken provided his very own inspired, though perhaps a little “melodramatic” appreciation. “What a sight, snow peaked mountains adorned with glaciers that meet the lush green valley and create a roaring glacier river adorned by an assortment of beautiful flowers highlighted by purple fireweed.” I smiled to myself and thought that perhaps I should let him do the narrative for beauty because you all must be getting tired of my “slim vocabulary” of adjectives. Ken is particularly enraptured with the wild flowers and fire weed has become one of his favorites. I will have to research where the fire weed gets its name.
We inadvertently made a wrong turn and ended up in the small village of Chitina, the gateway to the Kennicott/ McCarthy copper mine sixty miles further. As we made our way through the pass, we noticed a car stopped ahead of us. Ken slowed to get a look at what the car might have stopped to view and there, to his delight a moose swam away from us in the small lake. beside the road. Ken said that July 6 shall forever more be known as “moose day”.
We have not spotted a lot of animals on the road though I constantly have the binoculars “at the ready”. Thus, our “moose” viewing was a real treat to our day. Ken has become skeptical of my ability to spot animals from the road and is constantly reminding me “there must be an animal somewhere in that valley, on that hill, in that canyon.!” The book says that you will rarely see an animal from your vehicle, you must get out, be quiet and use the binoculars.
After our “moose experience”, we drove on into the village and discovered our mistake. The road did not lead us to the RV Resort where we wanted to spend the night. It was a dead end road and the next sixty miles was unpaved and difficult. Oh well, Ken said the moose was worth the trip and it was a nice drive. We had lunch turned our “diesel wagon and 300 horses” back to the paved road and headed out of the pass.
We ended up finding a nice “dry camp” site on a small lake about 50 miles out of Palmer and 100 miles out of Anchorage. It was a beautiful spot. Ken practiced his fly fishing technique (he needs practice) and chatted with our fellow “dry campers” who were on their way to Valdez. It was a pleasant stop and not a mosquito around.
Wednesday, we drove through the thriving farming community of Palmer just outside Anchorage. The lush valley of green crops and beautifully manicured lawns exhibited a distinct “pride of ownership” and one sensed a robust economy. I wanted to spend more time there but we missed the turn off into town. Ken noted my displeasure and responded, “Oh, I’m sorry, we’ll stop by on the way to Denali and Fairbanks”.
We arrived in Anchorage, a bustling city of 260,000, found a RV site and did a “drive about”. Of course, we had to find the marina (such as it was) and do a walk around the “tourist” area, shopped at Wal Mart and did some chores before returning to our “coach” and relaxing. We carry on the top of our coach and car a new tire sans rim for both. The theory was that if we should have a flat tire in an “outback area” we would not have to wait for a tire to be shipped in. A nail in a tire on the Saturn in Valdez prompted Ken to put the full size tire for the Saturn on a rim. The Saturn has a “doughnut” for a spare tire but the great distance between towns does not lend itself to driving with a doughnut. So, we did that in Anchorage. Of course, Ken also had to replenish the flies that he lost practicing fly fishing.
Thursday, we drove to Seward and were lucky enough to find a site on the waterfront at a city RV park. My wings were a bit “clipped” by a chest cold so Ken went out to visit the fishing haunts and check out the town. I was content to nurse my cold and watch the birds, seals and boats. From our waterfront perch, we can see the fishing boats going in and out as well as a cruise ship came in and docked across the way for a brief stay. Ken finds entertainment in watching the boats coming and going and provides me with the details of everyone aboard thanks to the binoculars. His people watching is more “practiced” than my animal watching.
Friday we arose to a beautiful sunny day. As we were leaving our “abode”, two nice young couples came by and stopped to chat. One couple lives in Anchorage and the other is visiting from Pennsylvania. I was amused by the way the resident expressed living in Anchorage. “I tell everyone that we live just 15 minutes from Alaska.” That seemed an appropriate reference. Within fifteen minutes of Anchorage one is out in the wild with miles and miles of open road, scenic views and Ken is certain there must be a wild animal out there somewhere.
The salmon are running as well as it is halibut season and people are bringing in their limit. However, Ken is trying to combine his penchant for gold prospecting with his fishing ambitions. Thus, he went to a nearby stream where he planned to pan for an ounce of gold and once he had that, fish for dinner. Yes if you believe that – the Golden Gate Bridge is available -- just check with Ken.
Saturday we drove up to Exit Glacier which is part of the Harding (named for President Warren G. Harding who visited Seward in 1923) Icefield. “ The Harding Icefield and its 32 glaciers covers more than half of the 607,805-acre Kenai Fjords National Park and conceals a mountain range under ice several thousand feet thick.. At Exit Glacier, the only part of the park that is accessible by road, you can get close enough to peer into deep blue glacial crevasses.” [National Park Service brochure]. It is an active glacier and care must be taken to avoid large blocks of ice calves that break from its face without warning.
Both Seward and Valdez were virtually destroyed in the 1964 earthquake. Both have reemerged as strong and vital contributors to Alaska’s economy. The scenic deep water fjords of Valdez and Seward were once glacier field valleys. The fjords are actively dropping lower into the ocean, as they are pulled down by the Earths crustal movements that keep tugging the mountains into the sea. Changes in temperature and precipitation cause glacial advance and retreat. Thus, nature is always at work. One sign lauded the Exit Glacier as “natures bulldozer”. The great Alaska Earthquake of 1964 dropped the fjords in Seward 6 feet in 3.5 minutes.
There you have it – one full month on the road.
