The McCarthy Road

Copper River near Chitina, Alaska

The McCarthy Road connects Chitina to McCarthy.  Much of the gravel road lies along the old railroad bed built to support the Kennicott copper mine, the riches copper finds in the world.  When the railroad ceased operation in 1938, the rails and parts were scavenged for other endeavors, but the railroad bed remained.  Chitina is the first town and is located right off the Edgerton Highway and along the Copper River.  McCarthy is located at the end of the road. 

We arrived to find our favorite campsite from our 2010 trip open at the Liberty Falls State Park.  Heavy rains pounded the camper all night.  Thankfully, it had slowed to a drizzle by morning.  We drove into Chitina for a bite to eat at the lodge, made reservations to stay in Denali National Park next Sunday, stopped by the park ranger station for information, then headed onto McCarthy. 

The first part of the McCarthy Road drive takes you along the Copper River and is always interesting.  This braided river is fed from many of the nearby glaciers.  It is where the Copper River salmon are caught.  We saw many fishwheels from the bridge, but few were turning.

While the road is only 79 miles long, it is extremely rough and washboarded.  Along the way, you can see remnants of old railroad trestles.  Crossing the one-lane Kuskulana Bridge always makes my toes curl in my boots.

Old trestle remains along McCarthy Road.  It took eight days in sub-zero temperatures for crews to build this railroad trestle with timber brought in from the northwest.

Kuskulana Bridge

We took our time, stopping to take a few photos of a swan in one of the many ponds along the road.  

We arrived at Base Camp, the campground adjacent to the footbridge that crosses the Kennicott glacier river.  The owner told us that he had 80 acres and just find a spot.  Much of it was extremely rocky and near the fast-running Root glacier river... no place for an aging water dog.  We chose a spot tucked in a small grove of trees.

McCarthy lies 1-1/2 miles beyond the bridge.  The Kennicott copper mine is just shy of five miles from McCarthy.  For $5 (each way), a van will pick you up and drive you into town and/or the mines.

Footbridge to McCarthy

Rapidly flowing river under McCarthy footbridge

With temperatures in the low 50s and a heavy cloud cover, we felt safe enough to leave Roxanne in the truck while David and I walked into McCarthy.  Our plan was for me to walk back to the truck before noon to stay with Roxanne while David went on to take the Kennicott mine tour.

The town of McCarthy has recently acquired quite a reputation because of a “reality” television show (see more in our next post called The Real Scoop).  In actuality, it was hardly a hotbed of contention but more of a typical remote Alaska town.  Everyone we met was extremely friendly.  Only 25 folks live in McCarthy year round.  The remaining 100-150 all support the tourist industry for the Kennicott mine, lodge, and Wrangle-St. Elias National Park.

We stopped and toured the McCarthy museum… a fine museum with much history crammed into its small quarters.  

McCarthy museum

From there, we strolled through the small town, stopping by the Potatohead restaurant to split a spicy breakfast burrito.

Main street in McCarthy

Waders drying from fishing tour

Old McCarthy storefront from the boon days

With the mine tour beginning in less than an hour, David and I went our separate ways.  I spent the afternoon chatting with a dear friend, catching up on blog reports, and taking Roxanne for a stroll.  In our next post, David will be guest commentator on his experience touring the Kennicott mine.

After another huge overnight downpour, we left the following morning with clear skies and a beautiful drive.  We stayed again at Liberty Falls.  Tomorrow we head towards Denali.

Copper River with Drum Mountain

Valdez!

Valdez was a highlight during our 2010 trip.  Perhaps it was because the Horizon oil spill was occurring in the Gulf of Mexico at the time.  Seeing how the wildlife had recovered from the Exxon-Valdez spill encouraged my heart. 

The drive into Valdez is lovely, traveling over mountain passes, high tundra, and through a deep canyon.  Valdez is a working town with many folks supporting the oil industry at the end of Alaska’s oil pipeline.

Valdez Oil Port

A salmon fishery also rests near the end of the pipeline on Dayville Road which leads to the oil pipeline’s end.  Prince Williams Sound rests on the north side of the road.  Estuaries with small creeks running down the mountains, lie on the south side of the road and are connected to the sea via large culverts.  Salmon come to spawn in these creeks, traveling from the ocean to the Sound, then up fish weirs or through the culverts to their places of birth.  It is here, where water meets land, that bears, eagles, otter, seagulls, and other wildlife come to feed on the salmon.

We drove to the fishing weir and saw masses of salmon huddled near the weir entrance.  Each of them waited for the next high tide to try to jump the weir and continue their journey upstream.  Thousands of gulls, eagles, seals, and sea lions gathered around the weir.  We watched one sea lion make his catch and gulp it down. 

Along the bridge near the weir, we found seagulls nesting.

We spent our first night camped along the pipeline road at Allison Campground.  It was noisy enough being so close to the road and its traffic, particularly during shift changes, but when a rented RV pulled in nearby and left their generator running all night, we knew we had to find something quieter.  We changed to the Bear Creek Campground, the place where we had camped during our last visit.  It has a bit of grass, some room between camps, trees, good showers, and WiFi.  For us it is so much better than the open gravel pits with rows and rows of enormous rigs that you find closer to town.

The next morning we immediately went to our favorite spot to see if bears were fishing.  We spent the next four days here, watching and photographing.  I must warn you beforehand that the photos are terrible… every single one!  Little did I realize that the reason I had no problem in 2010 was because it was overcast and rainy during our entire stay in Valdez.  Now we had beautiful sunshine.  Because the sun is so high in this part of the world, rising around 5:30 and setting after 10:30, sunlight flooded the area.  To top it off, the bears were most often shadowed back up in the creek, some 50 yards away.  Unfortunately, I am not skilled enough with my camera settings to compensate for the lighting.  What we witnessed, however, more than made up for the lack of good pictures!

Three black sows, all with first-year cubs, regularly fished the creek during our four days in Valdez.  One had twin cubs and the other two had triplets.  While the mothers fished, they would most often leave the cubs at the base of a tree in a densely forested area, allowing them to feed on an early catch.  At the hint of danger, the sows would grunt to send the cubs up a tree.  Then the mother would continue fishing and feeding until she had her fill or felt uncomfortable. 

We basically set up camp each day just off the main road in front of the creek.  We would pull up as early as eight in the morning and leave around five in the afternoon.  David deployed our awning, and we sat and waited, watching tide ebb and flow and listening to eagles call and seagulls squawk their raucous laugh.  

At low tide, the vast carnage of dead salmon littered the water’s edge while a dozen or more live salmon waited in small pockets of deep water to try once again to reach their destination at high tide.

We met John the first day.  John and his wife live in Valdez.  Now retired, John is a local photographer who enjoyed the same spot we did.  We became friends during our four-day stay. We called him the Bear Magnet after he once called for a bear and one appeared within a few minutes.  John would tell us tales and life stories to pass the time.  Of course, we all scattered to our respective tripods when a bear appeared.

Many people would stop and ask what we were waiting to photograph.  “Tourists,” as John would call them, stopped for a few minutes, then drove on if nothing was happening.  Then the “opportunists” would arrive… sometimes ten or twenty vehicles would pull up if one of the bears came down. 

Other folks stopped to chat… many memorable like Jo from Alabama, a rancher from Montana, and Allen and Barb.  Perhaps the most amazing story came from a Florida couple married 57 years.  She had been diagnosed with breast cancer just a few months after being diagnosed with the beginning stages of dementia.  The doctors cautioned that major surgery such as a mastectomy could lead to total amnesia in some cases of dementia.  Her husband said that they had opted for quality time rather than quantity.  She was using homeopathic healing rather than conventional methods.  They candidly agreed that this may be their last big trip together.  He joked sweetly with her as he told us their story, hugging her to him often.  Obviously, they are now in our prayers.

Watching the bears was an absolutely fascinating experience.  The black sow with twins appeared to be a rather young mother.  She was the most skittish and terribly protective of her twins.  Once she came down to fish, sniffed the air, grabbed a fish, and fled with her babies.  In a short period of time, the largest sow with triplets came down to fish.  It was obvious that the smaller mother was avoiding a confrontation with the larger one.

Cub running after Mamma calls

One of the set of triplets had an amazing difference in size, with a tiny runt, a middle-sized, and a substantially larger cub.  He was also the most skilled of the three, coming down to fish with his mother while the smaller cubs stayed hidden in the forest (if only this photo had come out!!!).  While the largest cub fished with her, the two cubs in the forest would fuss and cry at their mother but appeared too afraid to stray from the trees.

Sow and cub fishing together

One of the sows with triplets came down to fish, leaving her cubs near the tree.  Tourists in a rented RV stopped in the middle of the road to take pictures.  I assume that they didn’t realize that an 18-wheeler was right behind them.  With an oncoming car in the left lane, the 18-wheeler had no place to go.  He landed on his horn, frightening us all.  The sow immediately grunted, sending her cubs up a tree.

It was amazing to watch those cubs… one with a salmon in his mouth… climb over 75 feet up, about two-thirds to the tippy top of the tree.  When the mother had her fill of salmon, she called the cubs down, and they all scampered off.

Blue arrow points to triplet cubs near top of tree.

Triplets climbing down

On our last day in Valdez, we were greeted with cloud cover and hope for better photos.  Unfortunately, we saw only the mother with twins that day.  By evening, it began to mist.  With rain in the forecast for the entire weekend, we decided that it was time to bid Valdez a fond adieu.  I may not have the photos, but thanks, Valdez, for the memories!

Louise Lake

Matanuska Glacier Ice Field

Sunshine and warm weather followed us from Homer.  We stopped at the Matanuska Glacier and photographed the ice field.  From there, we traveled to Louise Lake, a former Army camp that boasted having President Eisenhower as one of its visitors.

Although the road to Louise Lake was paved, we could barely travel 25 miles an hour because of all the heaves and dips in the road. A plaque at the lake explained that it was one of the first roads built by the Army.  It took engineers a few tries to realize that they couldn’t build roads like they did in the Lower 48.  They would shave the topsoil off, exposing permafrost, then lay the road on top.  When the permafrost would melt, the road would heave, dip, and become a mudhole.  Obviously, the road to Louise Lake was the original roadbed.

Point Lodge on Louise Lake

 We strolled up to Point Lodge from our campsite.  Roxanne, of course, couldn’t resist a dip.  The lake was lovely and dotted with tiny islands, all privately owned. 

Louise Lake, Alaska

We thought about staying another day, but Valdez beckons, along with hope of photographing animals.  So we pack up and head south on the Richardson Highway.

Homer, Alaska

Anchor Point, Alaska

Our campsite on the Kenai Peninsula was in Anchor Point, considered America's most westerly highway point.  It was named Anchor Point after Captain Cook lost an anchor from the HMS Resolution on May 28, 2778.  We stayed at the Halibut Campground, a state park on the water's edge, overlooking Mounts Iliamna and Redoubt.

The weather continues to be beautiful... days in the mid-60s to lower 70s.  We awoke earlier than usual the next morning and strolled along the rocky beach.

There is no boat launch here, but boat after boat drove past us to the small marina.  We were amazed to watch a tractor drag trailers laden with large boats down to the beach.  The tractor then backed the trailers into the water until the boats began to float.  Once the boat was free, the tractor returned to shore for another rig.  The boat's captain would allow the now-floating boat to drift into deeper water before starting the motor to make their way to favorite fishing spots.

Tractor launch in Anchor Point, Alaska

Mt. Illiamna, Alaska

We drove to the Homer Spit.  Once it was much larger and covered with trees.  An earthquake completely washed the land with sea water and caused the Spit to sink.  It is now much smaller and has become a major tourist destination with lots of shops and adventure tours.  Although it wasn't even ten in the morning when we arrived, it was too crowded for our style.  We left for higher ground.

One of our favorite drives in the area is up Skyline Drive.  From here, you can see the entire Spit and Kachemak Bay.  Although it was hazy, it was still beautiful.

Homer Spit, Alaska

Kachemak Bay, Alaska

Back at camp that evening, an eagle perched in a pine tree near our campsite... such magnificent birds!

We left the Kenai the following morning, after enjoying breakfast at one of our favorite spots in Homer, the Sourdough Express.  On the drive north, we stopped by an old Russian Orthodox church in Ninilchik to take a few photos.

Ninilchik's Russian Orthodox Church

From here, we are bound for Valdez... one of my favorite stops on our 2010 trip.  Hopefully the salmon are running and the bears are feeding and ready to have their photos taken.  I can't wait!

A Total Russian Experience

Samovar Cafe in Nikolaevsk, Alaska

We had heard of the Samovar Café during our last visit to Homer.  Touted as having the best food on the Kenai, the café is located in the Russian village of Nikolaevsk, some nine miles from Anchor Point.  It also boasts a B&B and RV park.  As we approached Anchor Point, we decided to take the turn and drive to the village.  Although the OPEN sign was lit, we found nobody around and wondered why “reservations were strongly recommended.”

Hesitant to make the phone call, we decided to find a campsite first.  With the weekend upon us and the weather forecast perfect, we knew that the area would be busy with Alaskans enjoying the summer.  We found a great and somewhat secluded site in Halibut Campground, right across from the water.  David decided to make the call to the café to see what it was about.  A lady with a heavy Russian accent answered and told him that we could come for dinner at 4:30.

We spruced up… well, for us it was sprucing… and headed to the Samovar, arriving about ten minutes early.  Within a minute or two, an elderly lady came barreling up in a white minivan.  It was Nina Fefelov, the restaurant’s proprietor. 

As she unlocked the door and ushered us into the small but chocker-block-full gift shop, she asked whether we had come for just a regular dinner or the “total Russian experience.”  We hadn’t a clue what she was talking about.  

She slowly tried to explain the difference with her heavy accent.  Regular dinner meant eating off paper plates in the garden room.  No music, no questions.  The total Russian experience had music, photos, questions, would be served on  genuine, handmade Russian plates, with Russian tea, and more.  Our interest was definitely peaked.

The catch was that in order to have the total Russian experience, we must buy $60 worth of gifts from the gift shop.  This money would go to feed Russian children.  Her suggestion was that we buy the hand-painted and lacquered wooden spoons we would use during the meal.  While $30 each for the two spoons seemed more than extravagant… although for a good cause… and we were feeling more than a bit pressured, David and I looked at one another and simultaneously said yes to the total Russian experience… we were ready for yet another adventure.  Boy, did we get one!

Nina immediately donned her pink crown and showed us the menu.  Of course, David zeroed in on the sausage and sauerkraut.  “No,” she said.  “Only this.”  She pointed to the borscht soup, pel’meni (sort of a dumpling/ravioli), and our choice of a large or small helping of crème puffs for dessert (we chose small).  With the evening’s meal decided for us, she proceeded behind a curtain and returned with some vintage Russian clothing. 

She sent me to the truck to fetch my camera.  On my return, she asked David if he wanted to wear the pink or blue shirt.  He chose blue.  Nina said, “No, you look better in pink.”  At this point we realized that Nina was in charge of the total Russian experience, and we were simply along for the ride.

So we took photos.  The Russian hat was several sizes too small for David’s head, but Nina told him just to push it down.  The skirt is tied in front of my blue jeans (i.e., one size fits all).  Then she ushered us to the bar stools and snapped a few more photos of us.

She handed us a notebook to read with information about the town, its people, and herself.  She punched on a CD with Russian music.  When songs that she obviously had grown tired of came on, she would hustle back to the CD player and fast forward to the next song.  I asked her how long she had been open.  Nina replied, “No questions while I cook!”  We later read a sign amongst the clutter that said the exact same thing.

We were served a bread stuffed with potatoes first, and of course on hand-painted wooden, lacquered plates.  Nina cautioned us not to eat it all but to save some for the borscht.  When she served the soup, I was allowed to take a photo of her.  When she served the dumpling dish, David began to cut one with a fork.  She told him, “No.  No cut.  The juice will come out.  Eat whole.” 

We felt a bit rushed through the meal, realizing later that she had another set of folks arriving in a half hour.  (The reason reservations are so necessary is because Nina is a one-woman show and not feeling well these days.)  When the other couple called to say they would be late due to traffic, Nina began to relax a bit.  Dessert included store-bought crème puffs topped with canned whipped cream, Hershey’s chocolate syrup, topped with a cherry (from a jar that she asked David to open).  I was again allowed to take her photo.

Nina Fefelov

After the meal, Nina said, “Now I answer questions for five minutes.”  She began with an obviously often-told history about the town and its people.  Her father-in-law had founded the town and was a member of the Old Believers, who fled Russian because of religious differences, finding haven first in China.  Once China became communist, the group moved to Brazil, then Oregon, and then finally to Alaska in 1970 to escape the temptations of the city. 

Upon later reading about the Old Believers, we discovered that this Russian Orthodox group had fled the Schism in 1666 because of state-issued religious reform.  Nina told us about one lady who had been martyred because she used two fingers rather than three to make the sign of the cross.  If you’re interested in reading more about the Nikolaevsk community, click here: 17th Century Russian Community in Alaska

Although our five minutes were up, Nina continued to answer our questions.  She lamented that the town was faltering.  Once the school had 161 children.  Now it only had 57.  Fishing was down, and it was becoming more and more difficult to live their subsistent life style.  The young ones were leaving.  Construction on the new, larger church had been abandoned two years ago because of lack of funding.  Nina herself had rheumatoid arthritis.  Her husband was disabled.  She only opened the restaurant two days a week now because it had become too much for her.  She no longer advertises for the restaurant, depending on word of mouth instead.  When we left, she insisted that we visit Trip Advisor first to rate our experience as good, then to visit YouTube to see the movies about her.

Nina apparently had been the town’s entrepreneur.  Once an electrical engineer in Russia, she had moved to Nikolaevsk, searching for a quieter life that would allow her to live close to the earth and focus on her faith.  After arriving in Nikolaevsk, she met and later married Dennis, the founder’s son.  He was a widower with three sons of his own… all who grew up and left Nikolaevsk.  Once Nina taught Russian to all of the school’s children.  Now Russian is no longer a necessary part of the school’s curriculum.  She had opened the restaurant, adding a B&B, and a gravel pit with a dozen or so RV camp spots.  She had not a single customer for either while we were there.

We said goodbye to Miss Nina, happy for the opportunity to meet such a fine lady.  As we drove out of town, we stopped by the churchyard to take a few photos and said a prayer for Miss Nina and the people of Nikolaevsk.

Nikolaevsk Russian Orthodox Church

Nikolaevsk Russian Orthodox Church's Onion Dome

David and I are still chuckling about our total Russian experience.  Yet, we also leave Nikolaevsk with a bit of sadness, realizing that the town and its inhabitants are losing their preferred way of life.  We have decided to hang our very expensive Russian spoons from our Christmas tree.  Surely they will bring back memories of Miss Nina and smiles about our total Russian experience for many years to come!

Cook's Inlet

Moose Cow and Calf

This photo of a moose cow and calf is from our 2010 visit to Cook’s Inlet.  As has been the case this entire trip, we came up empty again today when it came to seeing wildlife.  I’m trying to be patient…

The weather, however, has been spectacular!  Sunny days, with a high in the upper 60's & low 70’s.  Perfect… and so much different than our last visit (which was the tenth wettest summer on record).

We three took a stroll on the trail around the campsite, enjoying the view of the volcanoes across the inlet... something we never saw during our first trip here... And a view of the beach. We decided not to take a hike up the beach.  The tides come in very quickly here, and with Roxanne moving slowly, we decided not to chance it.

After talking with the camp hosts who had not seen a moose or bear the entire summer… and with sunny weather predicted through the weekend… we decided to cut our trip here short and head down to Homer.