July 1998

<<< Wednesday, 1 July 1998

Today was the case of the unexpected. Mid-morning as we were about to drive into town we noticed smoke about a mile away towards the end of The Spit, so we decided to be nosy. It turned out to be a large fire in a fish packing factory. After watching for a while we left The Spit and drove into Homer for some shopping. About an hour later we came across some of our travelling companions who informed us that everybody (several thousand people) had been forced to leave the Spit. Large quantities of chlorine and ammonia were on fire and the experts had decided it was safer to let it burn itself out. By late afternoon the local high school had been opened for the hundreds of people like ourselves who had nowhere to go or stay since our RVs were still in the evacuated area. By early evening the local TV and Radio had arrived to interview some of the "homeless". We were then informed that it would not be safe to reopen the Spit until the following morning but cots would be available for the overnight stay in the school. At which point we quickly decided to take an (expensive) room at the local motel, just managing to get one of the last available. The fire was the main item on the 10 p.m. news where we were surprised to see ourselves being interviewed. To further add to the excitement a 4.2 earthquake occurred during the afternoon!

Thursday, 2 July 1998

The Spit was finally reopened at 9 a.m. even though a huge plume of smoke was still rising from the factory. Two of the RV’s in our caravan decided to stay on for the salmon fishing but we left with Bill, Bev, Leo & Barbara. We camped on the sea edge in the Ninilchik State Park Recreation Area about 40 miles north of Homer and watched several eagles fishing as the rain continued throughout most of the day. Later we learnt the Spit was evacuated again during the evening when another cloud of ammonia was emitted.

Friday, 3 July 1998

As it was the Independence Day holiday weekend the campgrounds would be full, so we decided to return to Soldotna and stay in Fred Meyer’s car park until Sunday. To pass a rainy afternoon we went to the Kenai National Wildlife Refuge visitors centre. After watching an interesting film about the salmon life cycle we took the trail to the lake but were chased back to the car by mosquitoes. As we were returning to the RV a large female moose and her two babies calmly walked across the road in the centre of the busy town.

Saturday, 4 July 1998

As our local town did not have a parade, we drove into Kenai arriving just in time to watch the Independence Day parade. Laundry and correspondence filled the rest of the day.

Sunday, 5 July 1998

On route to Seward, we passed the Russian river where salmon fishing was still in full swing, however, we found watching a moose wallowing in a waterway close to the road to be much more enjoyable. After a fairly slow two-hour drive we arrived and camped on the edge of Resurrection Bay. Seward is a small but important fishing port and a centre for boat tours of nearby glaciers which we plan to take during the next day or so. As this is being written we are watching several sea otters playing in the bay which is almost surrounded by snow-capped mountains.

Monday, 6 July 1998

Early on we spent a few interesting hours in the Alaska Sea Life Centre but today’s highlight turned out to be the evening wildlife viewing cruise. The sea life centre was funded out of the Exxon Valdez oil spill settlement, to preserve all forms of ocean life through research, rehabilitation and education. In 1989 some 450 miles of coastline were badly contaminated with oil and even today many species such as Stella Seals have not fully recovered, some may never recover from the disaster.

Tuesday, 7 July 1998

Six miles outside Seward lies the Exit Glacier which descends 2,500 feet from the Harding Icefield. A half-mile climb led to the edge of the glacier, the wind became significantly colder and chunks of ice were breaking off at random. The glacier is slowly being pushed downhill by its massive weight at about five inches a day but has receded about half a mile during the last hundred years. The cause is unclear but global warming is thought to be partly responsible.

Wednesday, 8 July 1998

Thursday, 9 July 1998

After moving the RV’s to Portage we boarded a train to reach the town of Whittier, which does not have any road connection, from where our boat trip to the glaciers of Prince William Sound departed. The train consisted of four double-deck passenger coaches and numerous flatbeds upon which rode vehicles of every description. After about forty minutes traversing two long mountain tunnels and some attractive scenery we arrived in Whittier, where 6O of us board a 40-seat school bus for the short ride to the boat!

Whittier was built by the army in 1943 as a supply base but today the 300 or so inhabitants depend on fishing and tourism for their livelihood. Strangely they all live together in one of two buildings which helps to reduce heating bills and the need for snow clearance.

In the evening Leo and George went to find a phone to sort out a problem with Leo’s computer but did not return for four hours, causing Barbara & Valerie to quite rightly get worried. Locally there are very few phones, none of which would work with Email, so they ended up travelling the 45 miles to Anchorage.

Friday, 10 July 1998

Saturday, 11 July 1998

Morning spent teaching Leo more about the OzWin computer programme, while outside the rain fell. Later on, started to complete the tax return but quickly concluded that our lifestyle does not fit easily into the tax form structure. Watched the glacier for a while. While out driving yesterday we noticed a very busy restaurant so we visited it this evening and had a first-class meal. On the way back to the campground we stopped at Tangle Lake and watched a beaver gather a leafy branch, swim with it in his mouth across the lake and then bury it in the lake bed next to his lodge. It was still very light at 10.00 pm so we all went for a walk along a trail which took us to the edge of a large snow field. We could not believe how much water was flowing under the ice, forming large tunnels that a walker on the snow could easily drop into.

Sunday, 12 July 1998

With time to spare and as we are thoroughly enjoying the Kenai Peninsular, we decided to backtrack and spend a few more days in Seward, which we consider to be one of the most attractive places we have visited. Leo & Barbara left for Anchorage so our caravan has now dispersed but we expect to meet up soon with Dick & Pat, our friends from California. The town of Seward is named in honour of William Seward who orchestrated the purchase of Alaska from the Russians in 1867. Upon arrival, we went to the water dump station and almost immediately Pat and Dick drove by. Later we spent some time sharing our travel experiences over an enjoyable meal in the Apollo restaurant.

Monday, 13 July 1998

Tuesday, 14 July 1998

We spent some time enjoying the view and then watched a film about the massive earthquake which struck Alaska in 1964, followed by a couple of hours in the local museum. The local waters have large quantities of huge halibut, so providing a major fishing industry and a pastime for tourists. Halibut is considered small at around 30 lb. and fish over 300 lb. are regularly caught. We watched for some time large quantities being unloaded and then immediately filleted at the dockside. We both like halibut, so we purchased some at 2 pounds a pound to stock up the freezer.

Wednesday, 15 July 1998

Dick and Pat wanted to visit Homer so we left for Anchorage having agreed to meet up en route to Vancouver. As we passed Portage we noticed several vehicles parked at the side of the road. About 100 yards away a brown bear was slowly circling an RV, which was camped on the edge of a creek. The occupants were inside so they must have had an excellent view. For hundreds of miles, we have seen countless Black Spruce trees either dead or dying. A beetle is responsible for having already killed millions of trees in Canada, it has now reached the forests of Alaska. Camped in the Walmart car park for the night, it’s now 10.30 pm and still broad daylight we have not seen the sunset for weeks.

Thursday, 16 July 1998

After finally resolving a problem caused by our building society we moved camp to the outskirts of Palmer, which lies 35 miles northeast of Anchorage. The snow-covered peaks of the Chugach and Talkeetna mountains rise above Palmer, a city surrounded by lush pastures, where the long daylight hours enable cabbages to regularly grow to over 70 pounds! (What a lot of coleslaw) Nearby is the Musk Ox Farm which has around 50 of these prehistoric animals, that came close to extinction at the turn of the century. The shaggy creatures are valued for their fine under wool called qiviut. Eskimos knit the hair, which is eight times warmer by weight than wool, into hats and scarves. Valerie decided she did not need a new hat when told they start at $150 each.

The campground office is a small log cabin which in the local tradition, has the roof covered in soil for additional insulation, enabling a profusion of attractive wildflowers to grow on the roof. Valerie will probably have difficulty sleeping tonight since the local TV news programme announced that campers need to be especially careful as there are a lot more bears about this year! However, George’s only worry whilst BBQ cooking, was that the mosquitoes were back!

Friday, 17 July 1998

During the peak year of 1941, the Independence Mine produced 34,416 ounces of lode (hard rock) gold. Today most of the buildings have collapsed and the mine is boarded up.

During the peak year of 1941, the Independence Mine produced 34,416 ounces of lode (hard rock) gold. Today most of the buildings have collapsed and the mine is boarded up. However, the ruin is very photogenic and almost attractive in its way. A few of the buildings are being tastefully restored but the rest are too far gone. From within the ruins, a Hoary Marmot stared unconcernedly at us as we took its picture. After enjoying lunch and the view from the lodge, we drove along part of Hatcher Pass. It is a badly potted gravel road, which climbs 3,800 feet before descending into a long deep green valley. We saw plenty of colourful wildflowers, and an eagle but no wild animals.

Saturday, 18 July 1998

The first 80 of the 140 miles to Glennallen are fairly torturous. The road constantly climbs several thousand feet and then immediately descends back down to the edge of the wide, fast-flowing Matanuska River. After passing through 9 miles of gravel the road suddenly improved, but numerous deceptive frost heaves sent the suspension shuddering to the stop. We were the first of the day to arrive at the Tolsona Wilderness campground but by early evening the camp was full and we had a couple on holiday from Germany as neighbours.

Sunday, 19 July 1998

Monday, 20 July 1998

Having enjoyed several boat trips we decided to take the six-hour trip on the Lu-Lu Belle to see the Columbia Glacier, which is the second-largest tidewater glacier in North America. The boat which was fitted out with plush carpets, beautiful wood and comfortable seats, was soon cruising at twenty knots into Prince William Sound. Some distance offshore a family of cute-looking sea otters were resting on their backs and further on a large group of Stella Sea Lions were also resting on a rocky shore. Everybody became excited when a mother Minke whale and baby were spotted. We slowly followed them for a while trying to guess where and when they would next surface. At one stage they were no more than 30 yards from our boat.

About 10 miles from the glacier we started to see a few large icebergs which became an impenetrable barrier about six miles from the glacier. The boat came to a crawl as it edged its way through the pack ice, while we delighted in the variety of shapes and colours which ranged from pure white to iridescent blue and even black caused by the rocks picked up descending the mountain.

Tuesday, 21 July 1998

Wednesday, 22 July 1998

Thursday, 23 July 1998

It rained for most of the day so we were pleased that it had stopped by the time we boarded the 7.00 p.m. bus for a four-hour evening wildlife tour. The most pleasing part of this type of tour is that the driver/tour guide is local and therefore full of interesting information. We found several moose with young, all standing almost neck deep in the water eating the weeds. The driver explained how a lot of Alaskans who live outside the towns exist on what they can fish, hunt and collect in the way of the numerous berries which grow wild. They heat their small homes with wood. Asked what everyone does in the long Winter months he told us of the outdoor activities including dog sledging, skiing and watching the Northern Lights. In temperatures of -50F you can throw a cup of hot coffee in the air and it freezes before it hits the ground! Most cars have a power plug hanging out of the front which is plugged into a power point at work or home. This heats the engine oil, water, battery and sometimes the driver's seat so ensuring an easy start since the temperature regularly plummets below zero during the winter. It used to be said that if you came to live in Alaska you were either running from a woman, the law or the IRS (tax men).

Friday, 24 July 1998

Other than unexpected road construction the 110-mile drive to Tok was uneventful along an almost empty road. Masses of bright pink Fire Weed wildflowers lined the roadside for mile after mile. Upon arrival, the 230 site campground was almost empty but by four p.m. it was full, made worse when a large caravan party arrived and a mad RV washing rush ensued. Spent some time debating if we dare take the very poor dirt road to Dawson City tomorrow or give it a miss, the forecast is for heavy rain, but came to no firm conclusion.

Saturday, 25 July 1998

Awoken in the middle of the night by the sound of rain, which to George signalled to give Dawson City a miss. However we were both up early and the weather looked OK, so against Valerie’s advice we set off for Dawson City. After thirty miles of paved road, it rapidly deteriorated. For the next 80 miles it was horrendous washboard, dips and pots holes which shook ourselves and the RV so much we were amazed that nothing broke. Halfway along and in the middle of nowhere is the gold mine town of Chicken, population 33. The original miners wanted to name the town Ptarmigan after the state bird but did not know how to spell it, so settled on Chicken! The few remaining miners are still reworking the tailings which were first discarded during the gold rush of 100 years ago.

We were sad to leave Alaska as we had enjoyed its spectacular scenery and unique lifestyle more than any other state we have visited. The land of the midnight sun causes one to reconsider lifelong habits, like what determines when it is time to rise or retire. Going out at 11.00 p.m. to explore or take a walk becomes normal. We have come to understand what is meant by the spell of the Far North, which is why so many return for another visit. We would love to return but for now, Canada and in particular Vancouver Island calls.

Once across the Canadian border and into The Yukon the road was paved, so we were able to relax more and enjoy the splendid views along the very well-named Top of the World Highway. This road is built along the top of numerous interconnected 4,000-foot or so mountains. We could see for miles in every direction. A long descent and a free ferry took us across the fast-flowing, murky Yukon River into Dawson City, which is probably the most famous of the gold mining towns. Finding a campground site was a problem since several caravans had arrived just before us.

Sunday, 26 July 1998

Flowing into the Klondike River near Dawson City is Bonanza Creek, in the bed of which gold was discovered in 1895, so starting the world-renowned gold rush. By the time the news reached the outside world, the stampeders were too late as claims for the whole area had already been placed. Most of the gold was mined and the real money was made later when mechanised mining was introduced. We could not believe our eyes when we saw the restored Dredge No 4 which is one of 26 mechanised gold mining dredges used during the first half of the twentieth century. Dredge No 4 is huge, being 145 feet long, 65 feet wide, 75 feet high and weighing 3,000 tons. It is a barge that makes its lake float on, by digging the gold-bearing soil at the front, sorting out the gold on board and then depositing the tailings over the rear. It only took four people to operate but another 100 to thaw out the frozen soil in front of the dredge, with enormous quantities of cold water. Today the whole area looks like a giant earth-eating worm has moved through the valley leaving circular rock waste trails.

Monday, 27 July 1998

At 10.00 a.m. we took our seats in the garden of the Robert Service log cabin, for a fascinating storytelling presentation of his life and poems by Tom Byrne. After an unusual start to life, first as a hobo and then as a successful banker, Robert Service wrote hundreds of beautiful poems which superbly capture the essence of the North and life during the gold rush days.

Later we joined a walking group for a narrated tour of the town. Due to the permafrost, all the roads are still gravel with wooden sidewalks, giving the impression of an old western town, particularly as most of the buildings date back to the early 1900s. One of the interesting comments made by our guide was about the ice break-up on the Yukon. The whole town has a wager on the date and time that the ice breaks up, which is normally during the first two weeks of May. A tripod is placed on the ice with a wire tied to a clock on shore, when the ice flows it stops the clock as well as sets off the town fire alarm, bringing everybody running to watch the event.

The RV had not been pulling too well when climbing mountains recently, which George put down to an ignition problem. This was confirmed and fixed by the local garage during the afternoon. We were fortunate to be seated in the royal box for the Gaslight Follies presentation at the Palace Grand Theatre, but we only rated the show 5 out of 10. As the sun was still shining after the show finished at 10.40 p.m. we wandered the town for a while and then drove up to the Midnight Dome. This is a mountain top overlooking the town with marvellous views of the Yukon and Klondike rivers.

Tuesday, 28 July 1998

The new North West Highway commemorative first-day cover stamps went on sale today. This seemed to be quite an event for the town and at 10.30 a.m. along with about one hundred others, we were sitting in the road outside the Post Office for the unveiling. It was entertaining as many of the local dignitaries attended dressed in 1900-style costumes. After the presentations to local organisations including the RCMP, we were all treated to a free buffet lunch, not bad considering we did not buy any stamps!

The visit to the town museum was disappointing, as was George’s attempt during the afternoon to make his fortune panning for gold in a local creek. It was arm and back aching work, giving a taste of the hardship experienced by the miners of long ago. During the evening we attended a fascinating talk by a 70-year-old gold miner who had marvellous tales of his experiences trying to make a living "laundering dirt". He spoke fondly of the camaraderie amongst gold miners and the local towns folk but had some scary stories of close contact with the numerous bears in the area.

Wednesday, 29 July 1998

It’s now 11.05 p.m., and the sun is still shining brightly on our mountaintop campground which is just a few miles south of the Arctic Circle. Peace at long last, after a noisy, bone-shaking journey along a 225-mile badly potted, narrow, gravel road. Valerie is now convinced George is mad having driven the RV all this distance along the Dempster Highway, which is one of the loneliest roads in Canada. A vast emptiness is one description of Northern Canada and to some degree it is true. During the nine-hour drive, we saw less than 25 vehicles, two small campgrounds, endless Black Spruce and masses of beautiful wildflowers. Every vehicle is the same colour, dark brown, as absolutely everything is covered in thick mud. Unfortunately, we have not yet seen any wildlife but maybe tomorrow.

Thursday, 30 July 1998

After yesterday's very difficult driving conditions, we decided to continue north along the Dempster Highway in just the car. We soon crossed the Arctic Circle where we stopped for the obligatory photo ceremony. Forty miles further on we crossed into the Northwest Territories, which is an unbelievably large province with virtually no population or roads. After climbing the Richardson Mountains, the scenery became more open tundra with occasional lakes but other than an Arctic Fox, no wildlife showed itself during the whole 306-mile round trip. It is a vast wilderness area that other than the highway has hardly been touched by man. In two places the road doubles as the local emergency runway, so we had to watch above as well to the front and rear of the car.

A free ferry took us across the Peel River and shortly afterwards we arrived in Fort McPherson. This was a strange place. After four hours and 110 miles, we needed a pit stop but we could not find a restroom anywhere. We asked several of the local Gwich’in Dene Indians but were informed that there weren’t any, and neither could we find a restaurant or hotel. For years the town was only assessable by water or air but the building of the highway in 1982 must have made a big impact on the town. We listened to their local radio station with interest, which implied that alcoholism was the town's number one problem. All the houses are built on wooded pads to avoid melting the permafrost, also all pipes are above ground. The town's claim to fame is the Lost Patrol; in 1911 four members of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police got lost and froze to death. Another 40 miles north and the terrain became flat as we reached the vast McKenzie River, which drains one-fifth of Canada’s water. After some hesitation we decided not to take the Arctic Red River ferry to go on to Inuvik, which is as far north as one can go by road, as the terrain looked flat and uninteresting, also based on our Fort McPherson experience, hotels etc. might be a problem.

Friday, 31 July 1998

Interesting how the weather can influence one’s opinion of an area. When we drove up the Dempster Highway two days ago, the cloud was low and with occasional rain, it was difficult to see the full panorama and came to the opinion that the scenery was interesting but not exceptional. However, today as we backtracked, it was dry and with the clouds much higher, we could see clearly in all directions. For over 150 miles the scenery was very enjoyable, with continuous mountain ranges, green valleys, rivers, creeks and tundra-covered hillsides. It was all very pleasant, the only thing missing was wildlife. We saw a few birds, an occasional ground squirrel but considering the vast area, we covered it seems that vegetation rules the roost in this part of the world. Again the very dusty road was almost empty, but we were very surprised when a camper with GB number plates suddenly passed, going in the opposite direction. My, it felt good to be back on paved road at mile zero, where we spent over an hour trying to wash some of the thick mud from the RV, the car will have to wait until tomorrow. >>>

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