Panning for Gold

We spent two nights at the Yukon River Campground, crossing the ferry into Dawson City to take in the sights.  

Dawson City is a town with a rich gold rush history.  In 1896, it grew from the hopes and heartaches of men planning to make it rich quickly.

We drove through the town and visited the museum.  Nearly a million tried to make it to the Yukon gold rush.  Less than 100,000 arrived, almost all too late.  We learned about fortunes made and mostly squandered.  We learned how the Royal Canadian Mounted Police patroled and kept the community from becoming lawless.

A drive outside of town reveals long, winding hills of tailings from the gold dredging, scars that will never heal.  It is a testament to the greed of man.  Dawson City barely survived the decline of many boom/bust towns.  It’s rich history, however, is now offering new gold in the form of tourism.

Tomorrow morning David and I leave to pan for our own gold, searching the horizon for signs of autumn.  We will travel 456 miles up the Dempster Highway, reaching all the way into Inuvik in the Northwest Territory.  

Top of the World

Our original plan was to spend two nights in the Tok area before heading over the Top of the World highway.  Top of the World connects Chicken, Alaska, to Dawson City in the Yukon.  Dawson City was to be our staging area for taking the Dempster Highway into the Northwest Territory for (hopefully) viewing the caribou migration.

About the time that we left on our adventure to Alaska, rain washed out several places along Top of the World.  Several campers were stuck between the washouts for several days before repairs could be made to get them out.  We had read that the road was now open. 

When we arrived in Tok, however, we were greeted with the news that the road was still under repair.  In fact, the last convoy across Top of the World left in less than two hours.  If we did not make this convoy, the earliest we could go over the road would be on Sunday.  We hit the road immediately, hoping to make the 67-mile drive from Tok to Chicken in time.  If we drove around through Whitehorse, it would take over 700 miles rather than the 90-mile trip over Top of the World.

We made the convoy with only minutes to spare.  The pilot car led nearly a hundred cars and rigs across this narrow stretch of road.  We passed an enormous number of road crews, gravel trucks, and heavy equipment.  At one of the washout sites, we could see where the river had redirected itself to the opposite side of the road, taking the middle with it. 

Top of the World highway is aptly named.  Our dusty convoy traveled a ridge with breathtaking views into the Yukon and beyond.  A lonely border outpost rests at the Canada/US border.  The pilot car left us just before the border crossing. 

We said a brief goodbye to Alaska and headed to our campground this side of the Yukon River and Dawson City.

Yukon on Dwellable

Over the Rainbow

From the Kenai Peninsula, we headed up the Tok Cutoff Road to the north side of Wrangell-St. Elias National Park.  We had visited the south side during our trip to Liberty Falls.  Now we entered the north side of this enormous national park.  Wrangell-St. Elias is the largest park in the nation.  The north side has very few amenities and is accessible only via Nabesna Road, a four-wheel drive trail.  The only campground located on the north side of the park is currently closed for construction.

We traveled to the end of the trail in between rain showers.  A water crossing proved fun, so David made a splash with the rig. 

We found a primitive campsite along Twin Lakes and set up camp.  A shower blew through, leaving us with a rainbow directly overhead.  It just doesn’t get any better than this!

That evening, the temperature dropped below freezing for the first time since we arrived in Alaska.  We awoke to sheets of ice sliding off the canvas.  Bundled up in just about every layer of clothing we could, we drove out of the park with a full view of Mount Wrangell.  What a beautiful sight!

Engineer Lake

While we were visiting Skilak Lake on the Kenai Peninsula, we took a hike up Seven Lake Trails.  About a mile into the hike, we found a trail marker leading to a cabin.  We followed the trail and discovered this wonderful little cabin owned by the Park Service.  It came complete with a row boat (with various sizes of life jackets available) so that folks could paddle out onto the lake.  It is accessible only by packing in, by boat, or by float plane.

We were smitten.  The first available date to rent the cabin was on Sunday, August 22nd, so we drove back to Soldotna after Denali to spend two nights in this remote site.

Laden with the bare essentials in overflowing day packs (we left our backpacks at home), we hiked in on Sunday.  The cabin has no running water, electricity, or propane... just a wood-burning stove for warmth.  It has four bunk beds with plywood frames and no mattresses.  

It felt great to be on the trail again.  David and I began backpacking in the early 80s and have missed it greatly since his knee surgery.  Even the heavy packs felt good on our shoulders.  We brought dehydrated and freeze dried foods with us.  We also brought sleeping bags, sleeping pads, water, clothing, and emergency essentials.

About half way around the lake, I was able to get this shot of the cabin.  It sits about two miles from the trailhead.  

After our arrival at the cabin, we settled in, rolling out the sleeping bags and unpacking gear.  I fixed dinner, while David chopped wood for a fire.  Our water dog, of course, played in the lake most of the afternoon.

By late evening, we crawled into our sleeping bags.  We soon discovered that our 1/2-inch sleeping pads did little to make the plywood beds comfortable.  We awoke crimped and stiff, realizing that age has stolen more flexibility than we had imagined!

We had a splendid day, hiking up toward Seven Lakes, canoeing the lake, reading, resting, and enjoying the view.  

Concerned about having a restful night in spite of our wooden beds, David had a creative jolt and lashed several life jackets together.  We discovered that it was kind of like sleeping on a camel that night, but it did offer at least a little more cushion.

We hiked out early this morning a bit stiff from the experience but happy.  We're definitely looking forward to a cushy bed tonight!

Our travels in Alaska are almost over.  We will head towards Tok tomorrow and cross into the Yukon (and possibly the Northwest Territory) within the next few days, hoping to catch the caribou migration.  Alaska has been a glorious experience, topped by this trip to Engineer Lake.  Best of all, the sun has been shining since we left Denali.  

It is nearly ten at night, and twilight is just now settling over the mountains.  The moon has crested a peak capped by fresh snow.  Between the overcast clouds and midnight sun, I have missed the moon and stars.  

Creatures are stirring.  Caribou and geese have begun to gather.  Hints of autumn fill the air.  Could it be that we, too, must think of migrating south?

Soldotna on Dwellable

All Things Bright and Beautiful

One of my favorite hymns opens “All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small, all things wild and wonderful, the Lord God made them all.”  To me, this song speaks the truth of Denali National Park.

We arrived in rain, of course… with spots of blue sky showing only briefly during our time there.  It didn’t matter.  Around every corner there was a surprise.  Ultimately, it seemed as if mystery after mystery revealed itself to us.

On our first drive through the park, we spied two bull moose and caribou before returning to camp.  

Feeling happy and carefree after an already productive photo shoot, I was busy getting things together for supper while David took a quick stroll to deposit garbage in the bear proof trash cans.  A ground squirrel bravely munched pine cones at the base of the tree near our picnic bench under Rox's constant glare.

Suddenly, Roxanne’s nose went up, and she went into her alert stance.  I figured that she had spied a neighbor dog and went to her to make certain that they would be friendly.

The dog looked odd on first glance, then my heart rushed.  It was a fox!  I knew that the camera was in the front seat of the truck.  I ran to grab it and was able to snap off three shots of Rox and the fox eyeing each other.  In a second, he trotted away.  (Several days later, this same fox stole a GPS from a neighboring camp and walked away with it.)

Thus began our excursion to Denali.  Off and on, the rain clouds would open to reveal rainbows.  We easily chased a dozen of them.  With each rainbow, I felt that God was telling me, “Just wait… there’s more that I want to show you.”  I couldn’t wait to see what He had in store for me next!

Denali is closed to vehicles except for the first twelve miles.  You can only travel deeper into the park on a shuttle tour bus.  With Rox, we decided that we shouldn’t take a tour because the shortest one lasted five hours and the longest thirteen hours.  A young ranger told us to contact a young lady named Rebecca who worked at the park.  The next morning, God provided.  Rebecca was the young lady we spoke with at the tour desk.  She offered to care for Roxanne while we took the six hour tour to the Eielson Visitor Center, sixty-six miles into the park.

Still looking for that perfect bull moose shot, David and I drove into the park that evening.  It was almost unbelievable… two grizzly bears were ravaging berries off  bushes along Savage River.  It was pouring rain.  With a towel draped over the camera to keep it as dry as possible, we watched these magnificent beasts and wondered how things could possibly get any better.

With Rox receiving special care from Rebecca, we hopped the 6:30 shuttle bus the following morning.  It misted rain most of the day, turning into downpours on occasion.  Within the first hour of the bus tour, we spied three bears on the hillside.  Later we saw a mother bear with two cubs.  Still later, we saw a herd of Dall sheep.  Then we saw a herd of nearly a hundred caribou gathering for migration.  It was spectacular.

Not far from the visitor’s center, God gave me a gift I will never forget.  A family of wolves played down in a meadow below Polychrome Pass, several hundred yards from us.  Two adults ran as the pups nipped at their heels.  They pounced on one another and chased each other.  The bus driver stopped, allowing us to watch their play for nearly twenty minutes.  I was absolutely mesmerized and must have taken nearly fifty shots with the long-range camera.  Finally, I didn’t care if I got the perfect shot… I was nearly giddy just with the opportunity to watch their play.

As the tour continued, the rain increased.  When we reached the visitor’s center, we were engulfed in fog.  David and I figured that we would leave Denali seeing no more than a peek of Mount McKinley/Denali.  Only thirty percent of all visitors get to see the mountain.  Yet another rainbow greeted us the very moment that I had that thought.

About ten miles from our tour’s end, we spied three caribou males.  One had an enormous rack still in velvet.  The second appeared to be a yearling.  The third’s rack dripped red with blood and freshly torn velvet as he readied himself for the coming rut.  They were absolutely stunning.

Just a few miles more, and we saw a bull moose.  The tour bus folks all laughed, joking with the driver about being able to summon up the “big five” (Dall sheep, bear, wolf, caribou, and moose) on the tour.  I knew better.  As confirmation, we turned the corner and saw another rainbow.

That night, David and I counted our blessings and surrendered to God’s glorious creation.  We had seen the most spectacular display of animals in their natural habitat.  It was okay if we hadn’t seen Mount McKinley/Denali.  Nothing could surpass what we had already witnessed.

We awoke to overcast clouds and packed up to leave with happy hearts.  Misty rain followed us through the park until one more rainbow appeared.  We hit the valley along the south side of the Park’s highway… and the clouds parted… and there it was, Mount McKinley/Denali in all its glory.

“All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small, all things wild and wonderful, the Lord God made them all…”

Alaska on Dwellable

Independence Mine and Hatcher Pass

In 1906, Robert Hatcher found gold in these hills north of Palmer.  The Independence Mine became the second largest hard rock gold mine in US history.  In 1941, the mine employed over 200 men, had nearly a dozen miles of tunnels, and produced 34,416 ounces of gold.  By 1951, the mines were abandoned.

All that remains of Independence Mine are a few old buildings, rusting ore cars and tracks, and old equipment, which David relishes.  So David, Rox, and I hiked through the area, imagining what it must have been like to have had to move and pound so much rock for slivers of gold.

We spent the night in a lot area near a trail head.  Several spots were designated for camping but were little more than parking spots.  While we walked part way up the trail, several RVs arrived and set up next to Ozzie.  Unfortunately, they ran their generators long past our bedtime, making for a rather unrestful night.

The following morning we planned to take a four-wheel drive trail up Hatcher Pass.  Several had warned us that we should not tow the camper, so we planned to drop it at a nearby trailhead. Unfortunately, this meant that we would have to come back and take the long way to Denali.

Just as we were unhooking it, however, a volunteer park ranger told us that we would have no problem at all with our rig.  He was right.  Hatcher Pass was a wonderful excursion through rugged mountain terrain and lush boreal forests.

Us at Hatcher Pass, elevation 3,886 feet.

Palmer on Dwellable

Seldovia

Seldovia, popluation 286, rests on the south shore of Kachemak Bay, across from Homer on the Kenai Peninsula.  Because there are no roads that go into Seldovia, the only way to get there is by boat or plane.

Curious about the town, particularly since we had met several who spoke highly of it, David, Rox, and I hopped the Kachemak Voyager passenger ferry with plans to spend the night.

Of course, the rain continues.  Anchorage just set a record of the most days with consecutive rainfall.  As of now, they are 49 days and counting.

Undaunted by the grey skies, we boarded with high hopes of another adventure.  The ticket center suggested that Rox wear her service dog jacket to give her the special privilege of riding on deck with us.  It was Rox's first boat ride... she did spectacularly well (of course!).

During the trip over, the ferry cruised by Gull Island, a large rock outcropping that is home to over 20,000 nesting birds.  The island seemed under siege from so many birds.  Every nook and cranny was crammed with birds and their nests.  Birds floated on the ocean below the island, they flew above it, and they squawked while on it.  We saw tons of gulls, cormorants, lots of "Alaska penguins," and a few puffins.

We arrived at Seldovia in early afternoon.  We rented a cottage for the night, and the owner was kind enoug to pick us up in the misty rain.  Our room wasn't quite ready, so she showed us a bit of the town and the community campground.  On the tour, we spied a small black bear.

The remainder of the afternoon, we walked all over town.  Seldovia has only thirteen miles of roads.  Only the main drag is paved.  Much of the original town was destroyed in the 1964 earthquake.  We walked what remained of the original boardwalk, admiring the lovely gardens, then headed across town to the beach.

Late in the afternoon, we walked back to the marina to take photos of the resident otter.  We had a scrumptious dinner of fresh halibut at the Mad Fish Restaurant.  With the ferry trip, so much walking, and full tummies, we slept better that night than we had in days.

We awoke to more rain and decided to take the noon ferry back to Homer rather than waiting until five.  On our way back, I was able to shoot a photo of a mother otter with a baby on her tummy.  It isn't the best shot, but I was delighted to have it.

We arrived back at Homer and decided to drive on to Hatcher Pass before we head back to Denali.

Seldovia on Dwellable

Alaska's "Banana Belt"

We have found a little piece of paradise in Homer, Alaska.  Not only have we found beauty but also sunshine!  While it rained most of yesterday, today is perfect.  The temperatures are in the 60s, with lows in the 40s... wonderful, wonderful!

Homer is called Alaska's "Banana Belt" because it is warmer here than the rest of the Kenai Peninsula, receiving less snow and a longer summer.

We found a lovely campground about six miles north of Homer.  A lot of folks camp on the "Spit," a spit of land that runs out of Homer into Kachemac Bay.  It is a funky piece of land with lots of shops, restaurants, tourists, and fishing.  Wanting a bit more peaceful stay, we opted for this lovely spot.

We arrived on Monday, after a fun breakfast with Cliff, Dennis, and the two Nancys again.  We shared stories and hope to meet up with them again in a few weeks.

We arrived to more rain.  Because of the weather, we decided to check out Homer, visiting the local yurt manufacturer.

The Alaskan Island and Ocean Visitor Center was fantastic.  We watched a great and informative film on their work with the Aleutian Islands in an attempt to protect the rare species of wildlife and birds that only live in this part of the world.  The museum emphasized once again that the sins of man create such unbalance.  They documented how greed nearly caused the extinction of many wildlife and birds, including otter and coramonts.

We also visited the Bear Creek Winery.  The ladies serving the wine made it such fun.

An extremely low tide this morning brought the promise of photographing invertebrates.   We were up early, walking Bishop's Beach.  Unfortunately, we found no starfish or sea urchins to photo.  After taking dozens of shots in most places, there were only a few that turned out well this morning.  It was, however, invigorating and fun.

With sunshine on our shoulders, we took a tour up Skyline Drive and were able to take some shots of the mountains.  With such a lovely view from our campground, we decided to hang around the camp this afternoon, catching up on the blog and seam sealing the tent (hoping to prevent future leaks).

A wonderful seafood steamery dinner at Cups Cafe rounded out our evening.  What a glorious day!  Now we're packing up for our ferry trip to Seldovia.  We will leave tomorrow morning and spend the night.  Until our return, adios, dear friends!

Homer on Dwellable