The day after our return from Fairbanks, I was pooped.  I rested most of the day.

On the Fourth, the four of us set out for Seward.  Our mission?  We wanted to join the crowd of 40,000 other people cheering participants in the 81st annual Fourth of July Mt. Marathon Foot Race.  When we were here in 1997, the four of us, along with Mary Jane and Howard, watched the unbelievable race.  We wanted to watch it all again. 

Approximately 350 men, 350 women, and 200 children signed up.  The kids ran at 9:45.  The women at 11:00 and the men at 1:00.  The race which had started in 1908 as a bar bet that a man could run up what was then called Mt. Isabelle (total of 3.1 miles up and back) and back down in under 1 hour became an organized race in 1915 and has been run every year since. 

The kids had run and the women had started and we were waiting for the last of them to come in and the men to start.  From our lawn chairs along the street, we could see some of the trail the racer took to the top of the mountain, but some of it was hidden by trees, shrubs, and the very top was obscured by clouds.  The participants were moving dots of red, yellow and white.  Suddenly, into an large clearing we saw a bear wander out, walk across the clearing and path, and then disappear into trees on the other side.  The crowd went wild hollering for everyone to look at the bear. 

This is a picture taken from my seat on the street.  You can see a few racers going up the side of the mountain.  The gray swath at the top right is the open area where the bear crossed.  I couldn’t get a picture of the bear.  I did, however, get a picture of Smokey during the parade.

Luckily, the bear on the mountain path minded his own business and no one was hurt, at least not by the bear.  However, the climb up Mt. Marathon is straight up and straight down over rocks, mud, cliffs, waterfalls, and briar bushes.  Many of the racers were muddy and bloody when they reached the finishline.  We had a great day.

Winners:  Junior Boys-Austin Gillespie (9)–Junior Girls-Allison Barnwell (16)

               Women-Cedar Bourgeois–Men-Trond Flagstad

We ate dinner at a nice Greek/Italian restaurant and then went back to Cooper’s Landing.

No, that isn’t any of us.  It’s just a picture of a boat passing where our motor home was parked on the Kenai River.  Notice the turquoise water.

Until later, Dolores and Richard

Tom and Carole flew into Fairbanks which is 450 miles from Cooper’s Landing.  Since roads are unpredictable, we left Monday to make the trek north in our Jeep to be sure we would have them at the airport in plenty of time on Tuesday.  So, we packed a lunch and started out.

First we stopped at the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center.  There we drove through the park and looked at animals roaming acres of land as close to their natural habitat as possible.  Most had been rescued from somewhere like the eagle that had lost its wing.  My favorite was a bear who was playing with his feet in a muddy pond.  I wish I could have taken him home with us.

We then drove to the little town of Whittier.  During World War II, Whittier was built by the US Army as a port where soldiers entered Alaska.  A spur of the Alaskan Railway passed from Whittier, through the Anton Anderson Memorial Tunnel, to the Seward highway south of Anchorage.  The first time we were here, Richard and I rode the train through the long tunnel to Whittier just to look around.  Since that time, they have set up a system to make the tunnel driveable.  On the hour, vehicles from Whittier drive to the Seward Highway.  On the half hour, vehicles make their way back to Whittier.  All traffic stops when the train needs to go through.  It is creepy going through the 2 1/2 mile tunnel.  In case of a catastrophy there are safe rooms along the way inside the tunnel complete with oxygen and thick metal doors. 

I’m happy to say we made it through the tunnel without incident.  Once there, we ate our picnic lunch out of the back of the Jeep.  Richard saw porpoises playing at the edge of the water.  By the time I got the camera there, they were gone so I took Richard’s picture.

We also made the return trip with no problem.  We met up with some old friends at the Wasilla IHOP (by this time it was dinner time and we’d barely gone 150 miles of the 450 we needed to go.)  Jonathan Rockey is the pastor of the Lutheran Church in Palmer.  His wife Kathy is a nurse.  Many years ago, they lived in Jacksonville near us.  We visit with them everytime we get up here. 

Carole, Tom, Richard, Kathy, Jonathan

It was great to see Jonathan and Kathy again.  They are proud grandparents now.  They told us about the best place to possibly get a glimpse of the great Mt. McKinley (Denali).  We stopped at the pull-out and they were right.  It was a beautiful sight.  When you look at the picture, it is the gray shadowy looking mountain behind the snow-capped ones.  They tell us that 300 days a year you can’t see the mountain because of the clouds, but we got to see it.  The sun was shining directly in our eyes so it was hard to see if the picture was centered.  Carole climbed on the wall to make shade so Tom could take his picture.

About 100 miles from Fairbanks, we decided to stop at a lodge and spend the night.  It was a log cabin structure.  Richard and I had a view of the lodge’s saloon and restaurant.  Tom and Carole had a view of a junk pile.  Richard and I slept peacefully with the windows open (no a/c).  Tom and Carole listened to a generator kick on and off in the maintenance room next to theirs.  For the first time in weeks, I got to watch a television with more than one channel and a clear picture.  All in all, I was a happy camper.

We went to the restaurant for breakfast.  We were trying to decide if we wanted a booth or a table when the waitress basically told us to make up our minds.  The morning air wasn’t the only thing chilly around there.

Tom wanted eggs benedict, but he’d had experiences with some that didn’t fit his idea of the perfect presentation.  So he asked the waitress (Miss Warm and Fuzzy) how they made their eggs benedict.  Here is how the conversation went from there:

W&F  We make it the normal way.

We are looked at her a little stunned.

W&F  We make it with English Muffins and ham.

Tom  Oh, I don’t want ham.  I wanted Canadian Bacon.

W&F  Well that’s what it is Canadian Bacon or ham.  It’s the same thing.

Tom  Okay can I get the muffin toasted and the Canadian bacon fried crisp?

W&F (She pointed to something else on the menu)  Why don’t you just get this if you don’t want eggs benedict?

By this time, I was in hysterics.  I couldn’t keep from laughing.

Tom settled for the eggs benedict–how ever they cooked it and we decided he’d better not complain because Warm & Fuzzy could knock him 9 ways to Sunday and he needn’t think he could look at us for help.  First sign of trouble and we would be running for the hills.

We dropped Tom and Carole off at the airport around 2 in the afternoon.  They had several hours before the plane took off, but we had 450 miles to drive before dark.  Since it doesn’t get dark up here, we were able to do that and made it back to Cooper’s Landing around 1 in the morning.

Until later, Dolores and Richard

After leaving Chitna, we moved our caravan through the Chugach Mountain range, through Palmer and on south of Anchorage.  We rode along the edge of the Turnagain Arm at the northern end of Cook Inlet which almost surrounds Anchorage.

Turnagain Arm is famous for its bore tide, a huge wave that flows into Turnagain Arm in a wall of water up to 10 feet high.  There are 60 bore tides in the world, but Turnagain Arm is unique because it is the only one surrounded by mountains.

When the tide goes out it leaves mud flats of silt.  People and animals sometimes walk out on the flats and are unable to get out.  Many have drowned when the tide rushes in.

We camped at Cooper’s Landing on the Kenai Peninsula which is a very popular vacation area because of its scenic wilderness and its proximity to world-class salmon fishing on the Kenai River.  We were parked right next to the beautiful, turquoise-colored river.  We watched two bald eagles soar above us and then land on a branch sticking out of the river.  They are beautiful and graceful.  Along the road passing through Cooper’s landing are tons of rustic cabins for rent, float fishing companies, helicopter and plane rides to view the beautiful scenery from the air.

The next day, the six of us (me, Richard, Tom, Carole, Jack and Jeannie) loaded up in the Dickson’s van and drove to Seward, a neat fishing village on Resurrection Bay.  Along the way we went to Exit Glacier, one of 40 glaciers from the Harding Icefield.  The icefield and the 40 glaciers cover approximately 1,100 square miles and receive over 400 inches of snow per year.  Although Exit glacier is one of the smallest of the Harding Icefield, but it is the most visited because it is accessible from a spur of the Seward Highway.

We acted like we were rough, tough Alaskans and walked about a mile up a trail to look at the glacier.  It was not an easy task, but we all made it up there and back down without falling over a steep drop off or getting eaten by a bear.  You laugh, but we very well could have.  And if you want to know if a bear *hits in the woods, the answer is not always.  Some times they *hit on the trail leading to a glacier. 

We met a Thai monk and since Jeannie could speak a little Thai, we took her picture with him.  Then he had us take a picture with his camera. 

Also on the road to Exit Glacier is the Mitch Seavey’s IDIDARIDE Dog Sled Tours.  The tours consist of being introduced to the dogs, learning how they live and train, learning about the clothing worn while mushing a dog team in the world famous Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race.  Mitch Seavey is a second of three generations of dog mushers.  In 2004, Mitch won the Iditarod race which covers 1,150 miles through trecherous winter weather, mountains, and frozen rivers and terrain.  He completed the race in 9 days, 12 hours, 20 minutes and 22 seconds. 

During the summer months, to keep the dogs in shape, they hitch them to a wheeled wagon, load up riders, and run the dogs along a 2 mile trail.  Tom and Carole went along for the ride.  We thought about hiring a dog team to take them back to Fairbanks to catch their flight back to Florida, but Carole vetoed that.

We drove through the quaint little town of Seward.  Jack, Jeannie, Richard and I spent the 4th of July in Seward in 1997 and we plan to do it again this year.  We wish Tom and Carole could join us, but they will be back in Florida by then.

Back at Cooper’s Landing we rode down to the ferry and watched it make a couple of trips across the raging water of the Russian River.  The ferry operates attached to a guide wire, but moves under its own power by angling into the current and making the ferry move to carry fishermen to the other side of the Russian River where they stand in a line, shoulder to shoulder, and fly fish for salmon.  It is called combat fishing.

Until later, Dolores and Richard

1.)  Breakfast being cooked in camp

2.)  Tom on the Copper River

3.)  Lyle laying out materials for ladder

4.)  Richard with mosquito net hat showing off ladder

5.)  Lyle with ladder

6.)  Since only residents or natives can be in the boat during dipnetting, there is a seat extended from the side of the boat for non-residents.  That is Jack sticking out over the edge of the boat taking pictures.

7.)  River water rushing through a canyon near the camp.

8.)  Richard on cot in tent.

The guys had a great time on the Copper River.  They want to send a special THANKS to Lyle, his family and friends who gave the guys a once in a lifetime experience.

Until later, Dolores and Richard.

We left Fairbanks yesterday morning headed south to Chitina (pronounced Chit-na).  Through Little Roy Lewis (of the first family of bluegrass-gospel music-The Lewis Family) Richard met a man who lives in Homer, Alaska.  Lyle recently turned 92 years old.  He and some other men go dipnetting in the Cooper River area of Alaska as part of the residents-only subsistence tradition.

Subsistence is the customary traditional uses of wild resourses for Alaskan Indians and local residents to allow them to stock their freezers for winter.  In the case of dipnetting for salmon, the head of household is allowed 25 fish with each other member of the household being allowed 10.  A family of four would be allowed 55 fish.  That sounds like a lot, but I’m told it isn’t.  In addition to fish, they are allowed approximately 375 (this may not be exactly right, but it is in the neighborhood) pounds of fish and game per person per year.  People on the subsistence program use their catches and kills in every way possible–food, clothing, trading (seal oil), crafts (ivory, fur).

Dipnets can be up to 5 feet across, the bag can only be 1/2 the size of the opening, and the mesh can be no larger than 4 1/2 inches wide.  The dipnetter stands in water up to his chest and scoops out salmon. 

By now you are probably wondering what this has to do with us since we are neither Native nor resident.  Well, 92 year-old Lyle invited our 3 fearless men to join him and his gang on the Chitina/Copper River (not sure which one they will actually fish from) to watch the men dipnet and experience a tradition of Alaska.  Richard, Tom, and Jack left us this afternoon to go on a sleepover on cots in tents in 40-something degree weather.  This should be interesting.  :-)) 

Carole, Jeannie and I drove 25 miles to the town of Copper River to a Princess Cruise Line’s lodge I had stayed in a few years ago when we took a guided trip through Alaska.  I remember the beautiful sight from the lobby looking out at the Wrangell-St. Elias mountains.  We ate lunch in the grill, took a short walk out to an overlook.  Visited the gift shop.  We also went to a roadhouse and museum in the town of Copper River.  We came back to the motor homes and took a long nap.  We forced ourselves (believe me that is a joke) to walk across the parking lot to the campground/hotel diner for dinner.  We then did our 20 minute walk along a path and tried to recognize the wildlife feet prints along the way. 

Tune in tomorrow for my report on our big, brave fishermen’s excusion.  Until then, keep them in your prayers that they did not become FISHED men as they were pulled from the raging water of the most dangerous river in Alaska.

Until later, Dolores and Richard 

1.) Wrangell-St. Elias Mountain Range

2.)  Jeannie and Carole

3.)  More Wrangell-St. Elias Mountain Range

On our way to Chitina we passed through the town of North Pole.  They have a great area called Santaland.  They have a gift shop with everything Alaskan and everything Christmas.  Reindeer are on the grounds and Mr. and Mrs. Claus are there, too.

1.)  Richard in Santa’s chair hoping someone will sit on his lap

2.)  Carole sitting on Tom’s lap in Santa’s chair 

3.)  Mr. and Mrs. Claus late for work, trying to sneak in back door.

Along the way we passed a place where we were able to get a nice look at a section of the 800-mile Trans Alaska Pipeline System (TAPS).  The pipeline started up in 1977 and runs from Prudhoe Bay in northern Alaska to Valdez, the northern most ice-free port in North America. 

This brings to mind fuel prices.  Actually riding around in a bus that holds 290 (approximately) gallons of diesel, it stays on my mind most of the time.  We paid as much as $5.39 per gallon in Canada.  Horrendous!!!

Until later, Dolores and Richard

Tom and Carole arrived in Fairbanks today.  Their trip was good.  The dogs did well, too.

June 25, 2008

Jack, Jeannie, Tom, Carole, Richard and I went to the Pioneer Park in Fairbanks.  It is a tourist attraction build in 1967 in honor of the 100th anniversary of the purchase of Alaska from Russia.  It was originally called Pioneer Park, but later was changed to Alaskaland.  In 2001, since a lot of tourist were expecting an attraction along the lines of Disneyland, the name was once again changed to Pioneer Park.

Whatever it is called, it is an enjoyable park for the young and the not so young.  There is a beautiful,  antique carousel, a couple of museums including one about aviation, a sternwheeler, a village of buildings from Fairbanks’ beginning in the early 1900’s, and one about the Alaska Railway.  On display is a railcar in which Warren G. Harding, 29th President of the United States, rode through Alaska to drive the golden spike at the completion of the Alaskan Railway.

I really enjoyed going through the village made up of log cabins and other buildings moved from various places in Fairbanks.  Most were constructed in the early 1900’s and have a history associated with the gold rush which took place in the Interior of Alaska in 1902.  The original pioneer log cabins tell the story of those who made their fortune post stampede.  Each building has the date it was constucted, where it was moved from, who lived there, and what part they played in the beginning days of Fairbanks.  

During the evening, they offer a Salmon Bake which is a huge outdoor, all-you-can-eat buffet with salmon, cod, halibut, salads, dessert.  We ate there, but first we went for a ride on a sternwheeler.  Run by third and fourth generations of the Binkley famiy, it is a 3.5 hour tour down the Chena River.  The banks are close on both sides and people who live along the river are part of the tour.  There is a bush pilot who takes off on a float plane, lands again on the water, and then pulls up beside the paddleboat and tells us a little about himself and the plane. 

Susan Butcher’s homestead is also along the shore.  She rose to fame as the second woman to win the famed Iditarod Trail Sled Race.  She went on to win 3 more times.  When I was in Fairbanks a few years ago, Susan came out to the bank and talked to us through a headset about her dogs and her experience as a musher.  She then hooked up a team to an ATV and we watched the dogs run pulling her along. 

This time, her husband did the demonstration.  42-year old Susan Butcher died August 5, 2006 from cancer.  I was so impressed with Susan and her accomplishments, I was heartbroken to learn about her passing. 

The river flowed into the Tanana (pronounced tan-an-all) River.  There the boat stopped at an Athabascan Indian Village.  We  learned about the lives of the Alaskan Indians and some of the traditions of the different tribes. (Aleut, Alutiiq Eskimos, etc).  A lady named Dixie Alexander makes clothing out of skins and beading and has one on display at the Smithsonian in Washington.  One of the guides modeled a parka with a sunburst hood.  The picture is a little blurry because the woman behind me also wanted an picture and couldn’t wait until I got mine, but no matter, you can at least get the idea.

This was a great day.  I had a wonderful time.  Interesting activities, beautiful scenery, and great friends.  It doesn’t get much better than this.

Until later, Dolores and Richard 

Between Tok and Fairbanks, in the area of Big Delta stands an old roadhouse.  It was build by John Hajdukovich in 1910.  A Swedish immigrant named Rika Wallen came to work at the roadhouse.  John Hajdukovich went away in 1917 leaving Rika in charge.  She grew vegetables and farm animals for food to serve to travelers on their way to and from Fairbanks. 

Hajdukovick returned in 1923 and sold the roadhouse to Rika.  She continued to work it until the late 40’s.  She lived there until she died in 1969.  Today, the large, two-story house is a gift shop downstairs with antiques upstairs set up like rooms in the roadhouse. 

We ate lunch there and then walked along the Tanana River.  We got a good look at one section of the Alaskan Highway.

Until later, Dolores and Richard

1.)  Rika’s Roadhouse

2.)  Alaskan Pipeline

3.)  Barn with grass growing on roof

4.)  Antiques upstairs at Rika’s

P.S.  To those of you who wondered if I swam the Yukon River to be on the other side when Richard and our bus came over on the ferry–I’d be more likely to walk on water than to swim the Yukon.  LOL  With the Jeep hooked up to the bus, it wouldn’t fit on the ferry.  Jeannie and I came across with our Jeep and Richard came next and then Jack with his motor home and van.  He could leave his hooked up because their motor home is just a couple of feet shorter than ours.  Mystery solved. :-))

Today we crossed the Yukon River on a ferry and then began the climb to the Top of the World Highway.  This is a two-lane road (barely two in some places) mostly made up of earth and gravel.  There are very few guardrails lining the road which, in many places, drops hundreds of feet (in some places thousands of feet) straight down.  It was a 187-mile ride over 7 1/2 hours.  We cleared the border from Canada to Alaska with no trouble. 

The views (those I dared look at without becoming dizzy) were spectacular!!!  A whimsical stop along the highway is Chicken, Alaska.  Downtown Chicken is made up of three businesses-a merchantile, a saloon, and a cafe.  If nature should call, there is a compound of outhouses nearby.  The sign over the outhouses reads “Chicken Poop.”

In the late 1800’s, gold was discovered in the area and by 1902 the miners were ready to incorporate the town (the second to do so in Alaska).  When the post office was set up, they decided to name the town Ptarmigan after the bird found prominently in the area.  (Pronounced Tar-me-gan)  The bird looks very much like a pure white chicken.  When the people couldn’t decide on the correct spelling, they decided to make it simple and call it Chicken.  

Ptarmigan is now the Alaskan State Bird.  Summer population of Chicken 30-50 booming.  Winter population 17.

I’m exhausted and very glad I didn’t actually have to drive over the Top of the World Highway.  That would have been very hard since I closed my eyes and whistled Dixie through a lot of the ride.

Until later, Dolores and Richard

1. Chicken Poop   2. Our bus crossing the Yukon River  3.  Downtown Chicken, Alaska

Happy Solstice!!  We just returned from the Top of the World Dome overlooking the whole Dawson Valley.  From up there we, along with many others, celebrated the longest day of the year.  I’m not sure which was the most fun–watching the midnight sun hover above the moutains or watching the stream of characters who traipsed up on top of the dome.  If I wrote about the clothes some of them wore, or things they did you all would think I’d lost my mind.  Of course, that could be true anyway since I’ve been given Richard a piece for years.  Not much left. 

What they wore–One guy wore layers of skirts and capes in bright blues and purples.  He also had a scabbard with an arrow or a sword or maybe it was just a big stick.  Who knows?  One girl had one pink sock and one red sock.  Another had a hat that looked like a dragon head. 

What they did–One old hippie sat on the ground, backed into a ground-level pine tree and rolled him a cigarette that when lit made rings of blue smoke which disappeared into the upper branches of the pine tree.  I think a couple of pine cones may have staggered and fell off their branch. 

The police had set up a checkpoint and when we stopped they took one look at us and decided we weren’t the kind who would smuggle wine up to the top of the dome for public drinking.  Jeannie and I smiled sweetly at the cute little fellow and we were quickly on our way up the road with our box wine and red plastic cups hidden in the back of the Jeep.  We were going to celebrate.  What did they expect? 

Earlier today, we took a tour of Dredge No. 4, the largest wooden hull dredge in the world.  It’s a BIG sucker and although how it worked was explained in detail, I’m not sure I thoroughly understood it all.  However, that won’t stop me from trying to give you a few of the details that did stick in my brain.

It weighed 300,000 tons.  It floated in its own pond of water.  The front was a converyor belt of big buckets.  I believe there were 56 buckets.  They would dig into the earth, send the buckets into the dredge where the contents would be dumped on another converyor belt which sorted all material 1 1/2″ in size.  Anything 11/2″ or smaller would then go into a hopper where the dirt was removed.  It was then sent through a sluice box where, since it is heavier than the other material, the gold would sink to a mat which held the gold while the water washed everything else out the back of the dredge through a shoot (maybe about 75 feet long, not sure).  This made piles of the remaining dirt and rocks.  These are called tailings and they cover the land all around Dawson making it look like a giant gopher has been hard at work.  

Dredge No. 4 closed down in 1959 and after thirty years of being abandoned, the parks department took it over and removed the ice and silt filling the bottom floor.  Because it froze quickly, everything on the bottom floor was like it was when it was abandoned–black smith shop with tools still in good shape.  They made a permanant foundation and in 1992, they made a pond and floated the dredge onto the foundation it is on today. 

If we had an extra day here, Jack, Jeannie, Richard, and I thought we would like to go digging in the tailings for pieces of gold bigger than 1 1/2″.  The ranger assured us, that no nuggets bigger than that were ever found in this area, but what if they were wrong.  It is 1:30 am and the midnight sun is still shining brightly.  I could get a little digging done before we pull out tomorrow at 9:00 am headed for Chicken, Alaska.  Yes, there is really a place called Chicken, Alaska, but the most important part of that statement is ALASKA.  By tonight, I’ll be able to say we finally made it to ALASKA.

Until later, Dolores and Richard

1.)  The Midnight Sun

2.)  Jeannie and I freezing on top of the Dome

3.)  Dredge No. 4-a national monument