July 5–We spent Saturday running errands in Anchorage.  We went to the BX and commissary on Elmendorf Air Force Base.  We finally caught up with Rick (Lucille’s nephew) where he works and we hope to visit with him, his wife, Helen, and their kids on our way out of Alaska.

July 6–Sunday we packed up the motorhomes and moved to Soldotna. 

July 7–Monday, Jack had the oil changed in his motorhome in preparation for their trip back to the lower 48 on Thursday.  By noon, we were on our way to Homer.  None of us have ever been there so we weren’t sure what to expect.  We arrived around 3 in the afternoon. 

What a beautiful place!!!  Homer, Alaska has several nicknames.  One is the end of the road.  Believe me we tried to go farther, but we came to the END of the road.  More on that later.  Homer is also known as the halibut capitol of the world.  My favorite is it’s a quaint little drinking town with a fishing problem.

Homer is located on the Kenai Peninsula on Kachemak Bay.  Across the bay are the Kenai Mountains with several glaciers spilling into the bay from the Harding Ice Field.  The town’s most noted feature is the Spit, a 4.5 mile long gravel bar which extends into the bay.  That’s where Homer’s harbor is located.  The 92-year-old gentleman, Lyle, who took the guys dipnetting out of Chitina lives in Homer.  He is in Fairbanks until Wednesday evening processing the salmon he and his gang caught during the fishing trip.

July 8–Tuesday, Jack went out on a fishing excursion.  He left around 5:30 am and was back around 9:30 with his two catch limit of halibut.  When it was all cleaned he took his 37.4 pounds of beautiful halibut to a processing and shipping place where they cut and packaged it in 1 pound packages.  It was then flash frozen.  Jack was to go back the next morning to pick out what he was going to take with him and then the company would ship the rest to Joplin where Jeannie’s sister will pack it away in the freezer. 

For dinner we had a seafood boil out on the picnic table.  We built a fire and used ashes to make a fence post into a totem pole.  It was probably 48 degrees, but it was nice and warm around the fire.

July 9–Wednesday, Jack picked up his halibut.  They gave us a few pounds to take home with us.  In the afternoon, we went to the Bear Creek Winery and tasted wine.  It was very good and, of course, we bought some.  The winery also had a B&B with a beautiful flower garden.  They had gigantic blue poppies.  We also went to a nursery that had a magical garden.  We strolled through it, and I found it fascinating. 

We were told that if we drove to the end of the road, when the pavement ends, keep going and we would eventually come to a Russian Village.  We went down a God-awful road, single lane, mud and rock.  We came to a place where there were several cars parked.  The road went on, but it was almost straight down drops.  We parked and Richard and Jack walked a little ways down the road.  When they came back, they told us they had talked to a couple of young women who were driving out from the village.  They were married to Russians who lived there and were dressed in native garb reminicient of the Amish.  Their dresses and scarves are made from very pretty material.  They said we could drive down to the beach and we’d be able to see the 40 or so houses in village, but it was posted no trespassing and we couldn’t enter.  They discovered that some of the cars parked where we were belonged to village residents, but the cars didn’t have 4-wheel drive so they couldn’t be driven to village.  The other cars belonged to people who had decided to hike down to the beach.

So, we decided to make the drive down.  We passed several people who where gasping for breath as they climbed the (I’m guessing here) 20% grades.  We went a long way down, rounding switchbacks, dropping into the depths of what felt like and could possibly have been, the bowels of hell!!

Suddenly we came to a place where you could switch back to the left or round a blind bend to the right.  We chose the right only to encounter what appeared to be a straight drop over a cliff.  By this time my equalibrium was spinning and I begged to get out of there.  After about a 6 point turn around, which Richard did with great expertise, we drove back up to the place where the other cars were parked.  There we compared a few notes with survivors of the trip down the mountain and we drove back to Homer.

After dinner, we drove up to Lyle’s house.  He had just returned to Homer.  He is a fascinating man.  His house, which he built by himself when he was 68 years old is high on a hill with a grand view of the bay.  He does woodworking, making clocks, furniture, as well as beautiful cutting boards which he gave Jeannie and I each one.

Me, Lyle, and Jeannie at Lyle’s home

View of Kachemak Bay from Lyle’s front porch

Jack and Jeannie are leaving us in the morning.  We will miss them and wish them a safe trip home.  Their three granddaughters spend the same week each summer with them and that time is coming in a few weeks.  So they are headed home.  Unfortunately, their leaving also signals the end of my vacation because I must get back to work on my manuscript. 

That, and the fact that we have gone as far into Alaska as we are going and from here on out it will be back tracking, will hamper my blogging time.  That doesn’t mean there won’t be some excitement along the way for me to write about, but it does mean I will be blogging once or twice a week.

Until then, Richard and Dolores

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