An Unfamiliar Dempster Highway

Tombstone Valley, the Dempster Highway

It's probably no surprise to our regular readers... the Dempster is my favorite road on the planet.  It is always the highlight of our trips to this part of the world.  I love it for its animals, its rugged remoteness, and for its surprises.

After hearing rumors of fires and road closures for weeks, we stopped at the Visitor's Center in Dawson City to check on road conditions.  The Dempster was open.  When we asked about the fires, the young lady said there may still be some smoke around KM marker 280, but that the fire was mostly out.  She encouraged us to travel the road, saying the road was open all the way to Inuvik.

We didn't think to ask how big the fire was.  We later learned that the aggressive blaze had begun with a lightening strike.  It scorched over 325,000 acres.  We traveled over twenty-five miles of road charred on either side from the enormous fire.  We saw several still-smoldering plumes wafting from the remains of ghostly, blackened trees.  Road crews were vigilant, traversing up and down hot spots.  At the viewing platform on Olgivie Ridge, all we could see was the charred remains of boreal forests and high tundra grasses.  This fire had been devastating.

Dempster boreal forest fire 2017

2017 Dempster fire from Olgivie Ridge

We had never been up the Dempster in the middle of summer.  Normally we travel as autumn begins in late August or early September.  This trip was so much different.  We have always seen all kinds of animals.  But between the fire and the time of year, this trip's sightings were scarce.  When we did see animals, they were skittish and visible for only seconds.  Near the fire remains we saw a moose cow and calf, a young black bear, and a black wolf crossing the road.  At the sound of our truck, they disappeared quickly.  I was only able to photograph the little black bear.

Black bear grazing on Dempster Highway

After boondocking at a favorite spot near Eagle River, we stopped at Eagle Plains the following morning for breakfast.  We spoke with the manager who was also devastated by the fire.  She told us that she feared mostly for the caribou.  The fire had scorched so much earth that she wondered if the tundra grasses could now support the herd this winter.  We told her that normally we see mother bears grazing with their cubs near Eagle Plains.  She told us arial photos showed that the fire had driven them all north.  We all feared that many animals had lost their lives.

As we neared the Yukon/Northwest Territory border, we were shocked to see a large herd of caribou grazing in the distant meadow.  It was the wrong time of year to see these magnificent animals, particularly in such great numbers.  Normally this area is their winter feeding grounds.  Perhaps the fire had driven them down from the high country.

We were also shocked to see hunters... dozens of them.  We couldn't believe hunting would be allowed in July.  Through binoculars, we could see several hunters field dressing their kill.

Caribou on the Dempster in July

With all the hunting activity, we drove on and stopped in Fort McPherson to check on our friend Robert who runs the provincial campground and visitors center.  Another man met us, explaining that Robert had been ill but was doing better after treatment.  I told him that Robert had always asked us for a caribou report and that we had seen several hundred at the border.  We also told him that we had seen hunters.

He shook his head.  His voice contained sadness.  He said it was a rare gift to have caribou in the valley in the summer.  The people should not be hunting... they didn't need the meat now.  They should let the caribou settle in and become comfortable.  He told us that the tribe had sent elders to speak with the hunters and try to dissuade them.

In this part of Canada, the local Gwich'in tribes regulate the hunting season.  This man was obviously one of the elders and was distraught over the turn of events.

It was still early in the afternoon.  Hoping to see more animals, we made the decision to drive all the way to Inuvik. Perhaps we would see black bear in the Delta.  There were none.

We arrived at Jak Provincial Park around six that evening and set up camp in misty rain.  By the time we had showers, the clouds parted, and the sun reappeared.

The town of Inuvik sits above the Arctic Circle, and we were obviously still in the land of the midnight sun.  I took this photo from inside the camper at 2:30 in the morning.  The sun didn't quite set.  It simply skirted the horizon for a bit before rising again.

A Dempster sunset... 2:30 am in July

The next morning, we drove into the town of Inuvik and discovered that our favorite cafe had closed.  The lady at the visitors center told us that the cafe's owner had passed away suddenly.  She also told us that the anticipated new road extension to Tuk had been delayed until November.  It definitely felt like we had hit the end of the road.

We decided to turn around and drive back south.  When we arrived again at the border, we saw several trucks and men but no hunters.  Perhaps these were the elders sent to discourage hunters.  It was hard to believe that we had been here just 24 hours earlier and the place had been buzzing with activity.  Now it appeared desolate.  The caribou herd had vanished.  Using his binoculars, David scoured the horizon for signs of life.  Off in the very far distance, he spied a grizzly bear, probably grazing a gut pile from a caribou kill.  We camped at Rock Springs, with plans to drive back to the border next morning.  Surely we would see animals.  We didn't.  Even the elders were gone.

We felt disheartened.  Everything seemed different on the Dempster this trip.  We made the decision to leave the next morning.

On the Dempster Highway, between Tombstone and Two Moose Lake

Our last night on the Dempster, we camped in a favorite spot near a field of fireweed.  Fireweed is so named because in a temperate forest, it is the first plant to colonize after a fire.  

Surely, these flowers were a good omen.  We will plan another trip up the Dempster, perhaps even returning next fall.  Our prayer is that the fireweed will grow, and the Dempster and its animals will continue to thrive.  

Fireweed on the Dempster Highway

An update from Hurricane Central

Update September 17, 2017:

Dear Friends, Please forgive me for not posting the remainder of our trip sooner.  We had such difficulty finding internet access during this trip that I planned to finish posting when we arrived home.  Little did we know that Hurricane Harvey was brewing in the Gulf of Mexico.

Less than a week after we came home, Harvey hit the coast of Texas.  Near the eye of the storm, my mother and sister received minor damage in comparison to most.  Family south of Houston received 44 inches of rain and a leaky ceiling.  Another's car was flooded.  David and I received 38 inches of rain at our house but remained high and dry.  Unfortunately, many of those surrounding us were not as fortunate.  As a result, we have spent many of our days since Harvey helping to muck out flooded homes and distribute needed items.

It will take months, if not years, for the coast of Texas to recover from this deadly storm.  However, spirits remain high.  It has been amazing to see the generosity of neighbor helping neighbor and the commitment from all of us to lift up those who need it most.  By God's amazing grace, we remain Texas strong.  God bless you all.

Now, let the post continue!

Eagle, Alaska

Eagle, Alaska, overlooking the Yukon River

One of our very favorite places in Alaska is the small town of Eagle.  It sits on a Yukon River bend, surrounded by mountains and the enormous Yukon Charlie National Preserve (accessible only by boat or plane).  This is rugged, beautiful country.  About 80 residents make Eagle home throughout the year.

Eagle is the kind of town very few people visit as a tourist destination.  The town rests at the end of the Taylor Highway, up 72 miles of gravel road, north of Chicken, Alaska.  Once the snow flies, the road shuts down and is not maintained.  The only way in and out of Eagle is via airplane, snowmobile, or dog sled.  Eagle has no tourist attractions other than its beautiful scenery and the remains of Fort Egbert.  It also has very few amenities besides a well-kept BLM campground, one motel, and a bed and breakfast.  There is no cell service, and internet is only available when the library is open.

It is the people that continue to draw us back to Eagle.  They are an independent lot, yet there is a tangible commitment to their neighbors and the community.  This is our third trip to Eagle.  Over the years, we have made several friends here.  Never, however, have we come this early in the season.  We found the community very busy, indeed.

There is a saying in Alaska that it is either winter or you are preparing for it.  We discovered all of our friends preparing.  One of the first questions we heard was, "Did you see caribou?"

We had seen caribou near the Taylor junction.  These caribou are but a small portion of the nearly 50,000 members of the Fortymile caribou herd, named after the Fortymile River, a tributary of the Yukon River.  Eagle is a subsistence hunter community, one that relies on the land to provide food.  A single caribou can sustain a family throughout the long winter.  With hunting season only a few weeks away, everyone was interested in the caribou's location.

Members of the Fortymile caribou herd

King salmon had also begun their run up the mighty Yukon.  One of our friends took us on their boat across the Yukon River to see the fish wheel they share with another family.  The fish wheel is believed to be a Chinese invention and was brought to North America in the 1800s.  The contraption revolves in the river's current, scooping salmon swimming upriver, and depositing them in baskets for easy retrieval.  I took this video of the fish wheel in operation...

The families had just harvested 36 fish.  The salmon were filleted, skinned, sliced into long slivers, and soaked in a brine solution.  Each strip of fish was then hung on a rack and smoked for over a week.  David and I were rookies but glad to help place a few of the fish silvers on the racks.  Here's a photo that David took of the inside of the smokehouse.

Salmon smokehouse

We also were privileged to visit the Eagle Bible Chapel for their Sunday worship service again.  This church is unlike any we have ever attended.  The congregation focuses on the Bible, music, and outreach.  The small congregation is made up of many extremely talented musicians, including a keyboardist, flutist, violinist, two guitarists, and a trumpeter.  It is always a delight to worship with these folks.

We left Monday morning.  Our plans were to stop at the Visitor's Center in Dawson City to determine if going up the Dempster Highway was practical.  Rumors about fires shutting down the road continued to swirl.

Back to the Nebesna Road... one more time

View from the Nebesna Road

After Morgan left, we spent the night in the motel, keeping track of her flight's progress.  About 3:30 am our time, her mom texted that Morgan had landed and was safe with her in Atlanta.  With a huge sigh of relief, we were able to turn over and sleep soundly the remainder of the night.

The next morning, it took us longer to complete our list of Anchorage errands than we had planned, so we camped one last night at Eagle River.  The back seat certainly felt empty again.

Now we had to decide… what to do next?  Without Morgan, it felt like the whole tenor of the trip had changed.  We had been on the road just over three months but weren’t quite ready to go home.  We still had some unfinished business.  We knew we wanted to be in Eagle on Sunday to meet with friends, and, of course, we wanted to drive the Dempster up to Inuvik again. 

We decided to go back to the Nebesna Road for a few more days.  Between David's pulled calf muscle, Morgan's boot, and rainy weather, even with two prior visits to the Nebesna this trip, we still hadn't been able to take the hike up to the Rambler Mine.  With David's leg now healed, we had the time and the opportunity.  We also wanted to make reservations to stay at the Viking Lodge, a walk-in cabin on the Nebesna.  So off we went, back to the Nebesna Road, hoping for good weather this trip.

Although the Wrangell range was draped in clouds during our entire stay, we had beautiful weather in the valley during this trip up the Nebesna.  We hiked the Rambler Mine trail.  It is a relatively short hike, just under a mile one way, however, it gains over 400 feet in altitude in a mere half mile.  Pretty steep for us flatlanders!

The Rambler mine was once an operative gold mine during the 1940s.  The mine shaft is now barred from exploration, however, much of the old equipment and buildings were abandoned and are still visible.

Rambler gold mine with ore tram behind bars

Rambler mine

And, of course, the views from the Rambler Mine were incredible...

The following day we trekked the short quarte-mile hike to the Viking Lodge.  This cabin is reservable without charge with the National Parks Service.  The cabin was built in the late 1960s/early 1970s by a homesteader.

Much of the hike to the cabin is over boggy marsh, so it was no surprise to us that it would be buggy.  We were not, however, prepared for just how buggy it would be.  We spent several hours at the cabin, enjoying the area.  Ultimately, however, we decided to hike out rather than spend the night.  While the cabin was quite comfortable, we had envisioned sitting outside and enjoying the evening.  The mosquitos and gnats made that impossible.  We figured we could go back to our old campsite, set up our screened tent, and enjoy the evening there much better than being cooped up in the cabin until morning.

Viking Lodge on Nebesna Road

Inside Viking Lodge on Nebesna Road

We left the Nebesna Road the following morning.  Our next destination was Eagle, Alaska.  We were delighted to once again have the opportunity to meet with friends there.  From Eagle, we would attempt the Dempster.  We had heard rumors from folks over the past several weeks that the road was closed due to fires.  How could we end our trip without going up the Dempster?  Only time would tell...

We're sure going to miss that girl!

Goodbye, Sweet Morgan!

We only had three days remaining with Morgan.  It was hard to believe that the time had gone by so quickly!  

For our final time together, we had thought about walking the Matanuska glacier, but the hike was over a half mile one direction, in and over rugged, muddy terrain.  With Morgan's ankle still a bit sore and swollen from walking the Kennicott mine, we felt it would be too much for her.  When we awoke to more rain, we easily made the call to abandon the idea.

We camped again at Eagle River, where we had camped the first night Morgan had arrived.  The following morning we drove down the Turn Again Arm, south of Anchorage, hoping to see belugas.  Our ultimate goal was to visit the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center near Portage.

David and I had visited the park in 2010 and, quite honestly, had felt sorry for the animals.  Several folks had told us they had made major renovations over the past few years and that we should try them again.  They were right.  The animals were in much better environments, and the park had made many more improvements.

Morgan was able to see porcupines, moose, muskox, bison, and bear up close and personal.  

Porcupine at Wildlife Conservation Center

Moose at Wildlife Conservation Center

Muskox at Wildlife Conservation Center

Muskox and baby at Wildlife Conservation Center

One gigantic brown bear strolled close by us, finally settling on a log to take a snooze.  I was so glad Morgan could finally see how amazing these magnificent creatures truly are.

Brown Bear at Wildlife Conservation Center 

Brown Bear takes a snooze at Wildlife Conservation Center 

After our visit to the wildlife center, we camped at another favorite place... Black Bear campground.  David set up the hammock, and he and Morgan took turns being lazy.  It was a great afternoon.

The next day we took a short hike and took in the visitor center's interpretative museum... we even met an old friend, Smokey the Bear.  Afterwards we tried to catch up on blog posts and started organizing Morgan’s things back into duffle bags.

Morgan and Smokey the Bear

It was a glorious last few days with Morgan.  We were delighted with our sunny skies.  Temperatures were even predicted to reach 71 degrees on Friday.  When weathermen posted an extreme heat alert because of soaring temperatures, we had to chuckle… friends were reporting 94 degrees at home in Texas.  When we have 71 degrees at home, we’re still wearing long sleeves and have the windows open!  What a difference!  Of course, we knew the opposite was true... Alaskans would simply shake their heads at us when a half inch of snow shuts down nearly the entire state of Texas.

One more night of camping at Black Bear, and our adventure with Morgan was over.  We drove into Anchorage Friday morning and took Morgan to lunch at Sook’s wonderful restaurant, Alaska’s Gourmet Subs.  Afterwards, we checked into a motel near the airport so that Morgan could take a shower, and we could finish packing all her gear. 

Her flight was right on time, leaving at 8:10 in the evening.  Hugs around and then goodbye.  Wow!  We sure are going to miss that girl!

On to McCarthy and the Kennicott Mine

Morgan at Liberty Falls

David and I first traveled the 64-mile long McCarthy Road in 2015.  We figured it would be a perfect place to take Morgan… remote and historical.

We stopped at Liberty Falls, one of our favorite campsites just outside of Chitina.  Morgan fell in love with it, too.  Soon she was down by the creek, whittling a wooden sailboat and dangling her feet in the water.  

Morgan enjoying Liberty Falls

We watched a family camping across from us filet a cooler full of salmon.  At least we didn’t need to feel jealous with their catch… we had picked up some fresh salmon before we left Valdez and had it for supper.  It was another perfect evening.

Family filets salmon from their day's catch

Our fresh salmon supper

We awoke to rain.  Our drive down to McCarthy was wet and muddy, but the gravel road was in surprisingly good shape.  We set up camp at Root Glacier Base Camp campground… an expensive ($20) very primitive campground… but it’s all about location, location, location.  With Morgan still in her soft-cast boot, we needed to be as close to the bridge as possible.

Vehicles are not allowed on the bridge into McCarthy… it is meant for foot traffic only.  You can easily hike the mile into town, but with Morgan’s ankle, after church we decided to take the shuttle.  From town, we switched over to another shuttle bus to take us to the Kennicott copper mine, located five miles out of town.

David did an excellent write up about the mine when we visited in 2015.  If you’re interested in reading it, please click here:  Kennicott Mine.  With Morgan’s limited walking ability, we decided to forego the walking tour, particularly since the tour included climbing 14 flights of stairs to visit the old refining building.  We felt it would simply be too much for her healing foot to handle.

Views from Kennicott Mine

So we ate lunch at the lodge and strolled the buildings along the refinery road.  We watched a very informative film on the mine and its refinery methods and were able to see how the folks had lived during the mine’s heyday. 

The mine is located on the rim of Root glacier’s moraine.  It is a stunning, eerie landscape, looking much like a moonscape. 

Kennicott sits on the moraine of Root Glacier

By afternoon, Morgan was noticeably slowing down, her foot hurting.  We were fortunate enough to find room on the 3:30 shuttle back to McCarthy.   She wanted to see the town, so we strolled along the one main street of McCarthy and its dozen or so buildings.  By 4:30, we were back on the shuttle bus and on our way to the truck. 

Morgan and David in McCarthy Center

We had discovered a good pullout about six miles from McCarthy on our drive in, so we went there to set up a boondock camp that evening.  My, oh my, was it buggy there!  We all dove into the camper as soon as it was set up, had supper, and played cards until bedtime.

The next morning, we had misty rain again.  The road had become even more muddy and now had several washes going across it.  At one spot, beavers had dammed a culvert, and the road was badly washed because of it.  Thankfully, the rain began to slow, and we were able to take a photo at the old wooden train trestle.

Old Kennicott train trestle

 With all the days of rain, the Copper River was so running so high that it was impossible to drive down to it.  We had wanted to show Morgan the fish wheels the local folks use to catch salmon.  Instead, we looked at them from the bridge as we crossed the river. 

Fish wheels on the Copper River

We spent another night at the Liberty Falls campground.  The rain had stopped by the time we arrived, so we were able to enjoy another lovely evening.  Morgan begged to get closer to the falls.  Under strict instructions, she donned her rubber boots and used her crutches to wade into the water.  Some times you just need to be a kid even if you do have a broken foot!

How Morgan Fits

Morgan in her Hobbit Hole

Many have wondered how we have managed to fit Morgan into our very tight camping space.  Thankfully, she is currently only 5’ 2” tall, so she fits quite snugly into the backseat of the truck for sleeping. 

We’ve rigged it up so that Morgan can black out as much of the midnight sun as possible.  She has a small, battery-operated fan to control temperature.  She uses Roxanne’s thick foam pad as a mattress on the truck’s rear bench seat, topped with a heavy-duty sleeping bag.  At night, we load the area between the backseat and front seats with soft-sided duffle bags to extend her sleeping area width.

It looks a bit like Morgan is in a cocoon while sleeping.

And the butterfly emerges!

Morgan has organized the back seat so that she can easily flop the bedding over, leaving her enough space to sit comfortably while we drive.  When she pulls the bedding back at night, she has all her nighttime accessories readily available… pretty ingenious!

Morgan's organized bedroom

Morgan's ready for today's ride

To keep Morgan dry, safe, and bear proof, each morning (or at night, if needed) she shimmies into the camper via the pass through window connecting the truck to the camper.  She has to be a bit of a contortionist to do it because she can’t put weight on her broken ankle.  David took this video of Morgan coming in for breakfast:

We can all three fit into the camper when our bed is closed, so during rainy nights, we eat and play cards at our little dinette table.  Morgan and David sit on either side of the table, and I sit on one of the camp chairs next to the back door.  We have had rousing games of Gin Rummy, Three/Thirteen, and Crazy Eights.  It must be beginners luck, because Morgan holds the record for beating us all.

Morgan wins again at Three/Thirteen!

And now you know how Morgan fits!

Our view of a sleepy Morgan from our side of the camper.

Valdez... Part Two

We board the Lu-Lu Bell

We were surprised when grey skies met us the following morning… particularly after the Fourth’s glorious weather.  We had already planned to do laundry and re-provision, so the heavy clouds didn’t interfere.  We were also anxious to visit our favorite bear-viewing site so that Morgan could see the sows fishing with their cubs.  We were terribly disappointed to find that the salmon had just begun running.  There were none in the creek at all… and, consequently, no bears.  Heavy sigh.  At least we did find a few eagles fishing Prince Williams Bay.

An eagle feasts among the gulls in Prince William Sound

The next morning, we awoke to more gray skies and a definite chill in the air.  Temperatures had dipped into the low 40s.  We had a very special day planned for the three of us, so we bundled up and headed out.  We had reservations on the Lu-Lu Belle, a boat that would take us to the Columbia glacier. 

Chilly sailing on the Lu-Lu Belle

We had been on the other Valdez tour boat in 2010, but had heard that Captain Fred and the Lu-Lu Belle crew would be a much different experience.  It was true.  Captain Fred could maneuver his boat into places the other tour boat would never have considered.  When he found a boat fishing for salmon, he pulled up along side of them, allowing us to watch them haul in their catch.  Afterwards, his crew sent freshly baked blueberry muffins over to the sailors.

Salmon fishing on Prince William Sound

He put the nose of the boat into caves so that we could see puffins.

Puffin in a cave along Prince William Sound

Then Captain Fred saddled up next to a raucous sea lion colony.  The curious creatures would swim and dive so close to the boat that we could almost touch them. 

Sea lion colony on Prince William Sound

 When his crew spotted a whale spouting, Captain Fred followed him until the whale briefly breached in front of us.  Can you believe it… I missed the photo!

Then Captain Fred trolled through a mass of icebergs until we were no less than 150 yards from the blue-ice face of the Columbia glacier.  It was amazing… and, oh my gosh, that wind blowing off the glacier was bone chilling cold!

Columbia Glacier

Columbia Glacier calving

David in front of the Columbia Glacier

Captain Fred was a talker… what a hoot.  He gave a lot of information… most of it was interesting.  It was a very long day.  We left at 10:30 in the morning and didn’t arrive back to the dock until nearly eight that evening.  But what a wonderful day it was!

Captain Fred on the Lu-Lu Belle

We fell into bed that night, exhausted from the day and the constant chill.  Tomorrow we break camp and head to our final major destination with Morgan… McCarthy and the Kennicott mine.

Us in front of the Columbia Glacier