Saturday, June 26 - 2004 – We departed White Horse approximately 830 AM for a picturesque and uneventful drive into Skagway. We were greeted at the border by a young but rather “sour” border agent who “welcomed” us home.
Once through the border, we proceeded downhill on a steep decline that had several emergency outlets for “runaway” trucks which underscored the severity of the grade. Once down the hill, we entered Skagway, the garden city of Alaska, if one is to believe its very own published public relations. Skagway is a small village no larger than a postage stamp, with the roaring Skagway River flowing through it to the Fjord of the sound to the inside passage. Once entrenched in our “space” and connected to all of the amenities of home (water, sewer, electrical, television and the web) we headed downtown to check out the town and its history. The streets were well endowed with tourists. Two cruise ships sat quietly at the nearby docks while their passengers dashed in and out of stores seeking “baubles” and trinkets for friends and family at home.
In Whitehorse, we reserved and paid for a trip on the White Pass and Yukon Scenic Railway which retraces the long hard route that the “prospectors for gold” endured in pursuit of their fortune for gold during the great Yukon gold rush of 1898. However, no tickets could be found. He told me where he was putting them when he brought them in and at my suggestion of another location, clearly affirmed his decision as to where they should be. It was clear that he knew best. No more was said until he went to retrieve them and as he searched, it was a time for me to be silent. In fairness, Ken does not normally lose things (misplace yes - lose no) so we were both surprised that in spite of our combined quest, the tickets could not be located. With this discovery, Ken went to the ticket office with his receipt (which he did have) and they phoned the issuing office who faxed a copy of our originals. Our “investment” was saved. After the 90+ temperatures of Whitehorse the cooler air of Skagway was very pleasant. We concluded our day with a pleasant walk to the river and through the residential neighborhood downtown for a peak at how the residents live.
As we crossed the Canadian border into Alaska, a big sign reminded us that we were entering a “different time zone”. We rarely change our watches, depending on our inner clocks and “time awareness” to keep us on time when “schedule” is important. Thus, at 5AM Sunday, June 27, Ken announced that it was 6 (one hour faster than our Pacific Daylight Time and I dutifully crawled out of bed, put the coffee on, showered and did my thing and he followed. We were to be at the train by 815. At 8A (by our calculation) we drove through town and couldn’t believe our eyes, the streets were empty. Not a soul was about, not even the ghosts of Skagway, if there are such things. Even more revealing was the absence of trains preparing for the trip. Suddenly Ken said, “Oh – we are in Alaska – We are one hour later than Canada – not earlier!!! We thought it was eight, our watch said it was seven and in fact, it was 6AM. So, as they say, if you have a lemon, make lemonade.
We drove up the hill for pictures overlooking the fjord below and the town. Ken wanted to make the five mile trip over to Dyea but I nixed that when I discovered it was an unpaved road. Dyea, like Skagway, was a pivotal part of the great gold rush but it is now just a few old and disintegrating buildings, a cemetery and a dirt road that provides access to it for the real “history buff”. With still 1 and ½ hours before our train departure, we went back to the coach, for another cup of coffee and agreed, that in the future, one of us should change our watch.
At 745 (Alaskan time) we returned to the train depot and the “beehive” of activity that greeted us was as we expected. Passengers from the RV resorts, camp grounds, hotels, lodges and three new cruise ships scurried to board the trains and the sights and sounds gave proof that the town was, indeed, alive and well. At 815A we boarded our train and commenced our climb through the canyon that thousands of “stampeders” (the term used to identify the men and women who sought their fortune in the great gold rush of 1898) traveled by foot and on horseback to get to the Yukon.
As one views the route and sees first hand what hardships must have been endured by those pioneering spirits our awareness is raised as to just how “soft” and “spoiled” we have become. Few of us have any concept as to the price that has been paid by others in order that we might enjoy the riches of our country that we take for granted.
As I looked down into Dead Horse Canyon, the canyon got its name from the mem and horses that fell to their death from the narrow path that wound its way up the deep canyon below, I was awed by the courage of those prospectors. They not only scaled those canyon walls the Canadian Mounties required that they carry 500 pounds of supplies to meet their needs once they reached the Yukon. This was their price just to gain the right to search for the gold miles above that canyon and once there, they could not be sure of success. I know that I neither now, nor in my youth, possessed the courage, stamina or motivation to endure the kinds of hardships that those pioneer entrepreneurs endured.
The canyon trip was beautiful, but more than the beauty was the inspiration of seeing first hand and experiencing the wonder of the challenges that those “stampeders” withstood. Their efforts and those of others throughout our country who paid the price to retrieve the gold, silver, copper, oil and other minerals that have played a major part in our industrialization paved the way for us to know the “good life”. The great gold rush of the Klondike was but one such event in our American journey. Our natural resources have been tapped at tremendous individual costs, thanks to a rare pioneer spirit.
June 28. After our train trip, we decided to stay over in Skagway another day and take the FJORD EXPRESS to Juneau . Reservations were made for a 730AM departure which would include a brief stop at Haines for additional passengers before making the 90 mile trip into Juneau, a one way trip of 3 ½ hours. We arrived at the dock at 7AM, noting that another three cruise ships were in to provide the tourists to support the life’s blood of Skagway’s short (3 ½- 4 months) tourism season. Our boat captain, a young man in his late 30's to early 40's and his wife, were our hosts for the boat trip to Juneau. Their home port is Haines and they are the owners of the Fjord Express. They operate from mid-May to early September, seven days per week, 14 hours a day. In a discussion with Ken, the Captain revealed that he has to have 15 passengers to break even and his boat must operate at full capacity (54 persons) for two of those months for him to break even for the short season. Our boat was almost at full capacity with approximately 50 paying passengers.
The captain and his wife are dedicated to giving their customers a good bargain and we stopped several times to view eagles in the trees on the coastline, watch stellar seals resting in their rookery, harbor seals at play, sea otters, and caught a close up view of the Davis Glacier en route to Juneau through the Fjord.
We watched a family engaged in “gill net” fishing, a 48 hour special fishing endeavor sanctioned by Alaska’s fish and game and enjoyed whale watching both en route to and returning from Juneau. It was a very educational trip as well as pleasant, smooth, and relaxing. Our hostess served us a morning muffin and coffee and an evening cup of soup and roll to add to our comfort and overcome our need for refreshments. It was a wonderful day and a trip that I would recommend to any “independent” traveler to the Skagway or Haines vicinity.
Juneau is a beautiful city (town?) of some 30,000 people and is the capital of Alaska. We were surprised at the number of trucks and cars that occupy the limited roads (Juneau is accessible only by boat or plane) and the hustle and bustle of enterprise that seemed to prevail. It is a quaint and lovely modern day city. Our tour included a drive by the Governor’s mansion, a 2 ½ stop downtown for lunch and shopping and a stop at the Mendenhall Glacier for a first hand view of that marvel of nature. At the Visitors Center we viewed a film about the glacier and learned that its depths are receding (melting at its source) at a rate of 150 to 160 feet per year. While the Mendenhall Glacier is receding, the Taku Glacier (also part of the Juneau ice field) adds more ice than it loses from melting, which causes it to advance. (Natures way of keeping scientists and researchers occupied?)
The Mendenhall Glacier, is one of 40 large glaciers (there are more than 100 smaller ones) that occupy over 5,000 square miles of what is called the Juneau ice field, North America’s fifth largest ice field. Juneau was much cooler and after the hot temperatures from our White Horse experience, a coat was not uncomfortable. Juneau’s average temperature in the winter is 20 degrees and, according to our guide, it does not get a lot of snow and that which they do get, does not stick. (A booklet of facts about Juneau lists an average of 100 inches of snow per year). We returned to Skagway at 830P after what was surely a full day.
Tuesday, June 29 we departed Skagway and made our way back up the mountainside from whence we had come. As we returned through White Horse we once again confronted the heavy smoke from the many wild fires that now burned throughout the region. Ken was disappointed that he would not be able to visit Dawson City, a destination that he had looked forward to visiting. We drove through the heavy smoke, stopping at Klune lake in the Klune National Forest or the night. We had what was undoubtedly a lovely spot on the lake but the smoke prohibited our view of anything more than the waters edge.
Wednesday June 30, we continued on through the heavy smoke to Tok, and spent the night at the Sourdough RV park just outside Tok. We visited briefly with the owner operator of the park and learned that he had been in hotel management in the “lower 48" before coming to Tok. His wife’s family live in Tok and at their encouragement, he and his wife decided to buy the RV park and are enthusiastic about developing it and making Tok their home. Their “season” is approximately four months and they will spend the winter months improving and maintaining the park in preparation for the next season.
Thursday, July 1, we enjoyed breakfast at the resorts restaurant where sourdough pancakes were the speciality. Ken, who fancies himself somewhat of an expert on sourdough pancakes (though his are made of buck wheat ), pronounced the pancakes some of the best sourdough pancakes that he has had. I agreed that they were good and not too sour.
Our trip into Valdez was one of the longest 200 mile days that we have experienced. The roads were intermittently under repair, gravel and dirt with guided detours. It was a tiring day but as we moved toward Valdez the smoke became less dense. However, when we arrived i, the sky was overcast and gray with smoke merged into the fog. Though it was not the thick smoke of our previous two days, it was just as gray and our views just as encumbered.
Valdez is not only the outlet for the Alaskan pipeline, it is a hearty fishing village and once had a very prosperous gold mining operation. It’s history is checkered with recovery dating back to devastation of the town by a 9.2 earthquake which lasted 4 minutes on Good Friday in 1964, its rebound was enhanced by the building of the 799 mile oil pipeline from Prudo Bay to Valdez that was approved by the US Congress in 1973. It once again suffered a calamity of major magnitude with the oil spill on Good Friday 1989.
Many residents of Fairbanks escaped to Valdez to get out of the smoke and unhealthy air quality for their fourth of July holiday. RV space was at a premium. We were lucky enough to get a spot overlooking the sound but we were warned that there is a test project being conducted at night which might interfere with our sleep. We were just glad to be out of the smoke and the noise was not bad at all.
Friday was a day of viewing the town, checking out the fishing and doing our travel chores inasmuch as this RV has no maid service available. We do not have any television here in Valdez. Our resort does not have cable and the local television station is out of order. Thus, we must rely on our own limited resources so our entertainment is limited to our DVD resources. So far, we have watched an old Humphrey Bogart movie, a John Wayne movie and two of the three LORD OF THE RINGS movies.
Saturday, July 3 we boarded “The Glacier Spirit” for a tour of Prince William Sound and a visit to Columbia Glacier, which is the largest tidewater glacier in North America. It is receding and we were unable to actually visit the glacier because of the “calving” (ice bergs breaking off from the main glacier) that jammed the moraine. A moraine is the terminus of gravel and dirt that is pushed forward by the glacier. As the glacier recedes it leaves a mound of gravel and boulders which is called a moraine. The ice that is broken off from the receding glacier is blocked at low tide by the moraine until high tide comes in and carries the ice bergs out to sea. Now, isn’t that more than you wanted to know about the sex life of a receding glacier?
We saw bald eagles watching from the shoreline, viewed a throng of sea otters, watched sea lions at play and tried to catch a good look at a shy whale that fed nearby. It was the first day of commercial salmon fishing and our captain was mindful of the many nets that lay in our path as we made our way through the narrows and into the sound as well as we were able to get a first hand look at the commercial fishermen bringing in their nets filled with the pink salmon of the season. The silver salmon do not come in until later but this is the prime season for the “pinks”. Our day aboard the boat started at 1130 and we returned at 730P in thick fog with navigation by electronics, radar, sonar and GPS. The beauty of the sound was camouflaged by the overcast and fog but the wonder of sailing through the ice bergs created by the receding glacier and the beauty that one could barely see with the binoculars was an ongoing miracle of visual delight.
During the night, we were excited to hear the pitter patter of rain on our roof, which is a good omen for the forest fires. We hope that this gift of rain has a wide scope and that it will help overcome the devastation of the fires that plague the State.
Sunday, July 4 – we got up to cloudy skies that are gradually clearing and for the first time we can see across the bay to the oil storage area where the pipeline culminates. Further, as the clouds slowly rise, a large panorama of mountains with remaining mounds of snow appear revealing to us for the first time, the real beauty of this area.
We are now in our fourth week and each week has been a wonderful adventure in beauty and nature. As we enjoyed our boat trip through Prince William Sound, I could not help but compare these islands with the islands of the Caribbean Islands. There, the sun and warm air invites and seduces. What we have seen so far in Alaska, is a matching beauty but the air can be harsh and the water uninviting and defiant. To enjoy this land one must be able to meet the challenge of a cold dispassionate mother nature who surely practices true tough love.
