Summer Bummers

The summer so far in south-central Alaska has been filled with clear skies and hot temperatures, but our cooling winds have brought more harm than good.  There are always pluses and minuses in each area of Alaska when it comes to choosing a place to live or just to visit. There are mountain ranges, elevation, waterways, fault lines, glaciers, mountain passes and road conditions to consider just for starters. Each area of Alaska offers a unique climate, landscape and hazards. 

I consider south-central Alaska to be one of the best places in the state to enjoy spring and early summer weather during the month of May. Before Memorial Day, skies are usually clear and the weather is warm. This year was no exception, hitting 90° and above, making it one of the hottest months in my memory for the area. Other areas of Alaska experienced more of the same with nine towns reporting record temperatures for the month of May. Our northernmost settlement, Barrow, is usually below 30°, but reported temperatures nearing 50°. Good luck to the polar bears. Elsewhere in the Interior, Delta Junction experienced 90° weather in May, then got a shocking, measurable snowstorm which cut power to 360 residents on June 1. Many other towns around the state added May to the books as their top five hottest May on record. To have temperatures hitting 90° this early in the season seems crazy. The village of Eagle reported 91° on May 23 and a week later it was 28°. 

You also have to understand that with a state as large as Alaska, it is unusual to have settlements from Barrow to Annette experiencing record warm weather at the same time. There are so many factors to consider which influence temperatures across the state. South-central Alaska seems to turn green and experience warmer weather quicker than areas farther south in the state. Coastal areas have to consider Ocean currents which may bring colder weather. If you choose an area like Eagle River, you will experience more snowfall in the winter due to the direction of the mountain passage. If you live in Palmer or surrounding areas, dry, windy weather brings respiratory problems. The blowing silt from the glacial bed of the Matanuska River sends extremely high amounts of granite particles into the air, bringing the air-quality way down. Clear blue skies become hazy and white with the granite particles. Residents of the area around the rivers should be wearing some type of respiratory mask, but I never see anyone doing this. I stayed indoors during the worst periods, but I was still experiencing sinus and respiratory problems.

Blowing silt obstructs clear views of Pioneer Peak and surround areas of the Matanuska

River during dry, windy weather.

On the nicer days I retreated to upper elevations, like nearby Hatcher Pass. The subalpine levels still had a little snow and had Spring had just begun. Wildflowers had begun popping up everywhere and I spent my days photographing these tiny bits of color on the mountain slopes. I'm always amazed at the variety of plant life on these sometimes inhospitable mountainsides. I've heard many visitors to the state say how surprised they were at how many flowers we have. They had assumed that with such a cold state, we would have few wildflowers. In actuality, Alaska's mild temperatures and diverse landscapes offer wildflowers the best growing conditions. From a distance, sub-alpine and alpine tundra may look the same, but upon closer inspection you can see thousands of tiny wildflowers of many colors. I spotted about a dozen different wildflowers in one location at the mid-level elevations of Hatcher Pass during the last week of May. All the people below in the Valley may have been wearing shorts and tank tops, the snowy slopes of upper elevations required more clothing.

Upper elevations in Hatcher Pass, June 1st,
Green has only started to appear,

Baneberry blossoms and background Nootka Lupine
 June 1st in the mid-elevations of Hatcher Pass. Plants
are several feet tall.

On May 17, I made a trip up towards the Matanuska Glacier, the green leaves disappearing as I got closer. Once the glacier came into view, most foliage became brown. Just 30 miles away, the seasons were two weeks apart. Areas like this mean you will have one month less of summer a year. That's pretty significant for a state with 3-4 month summers. In the southwest area of the state, Bristol Bay, it was also still cold and brown. Interior areas of the state tend to have larger settlements in valleys, where growing seasons are longer and weather is more stable. Anchorage sits in a kind of sweet spot, with Cook Inlet on one side and the Chugach Range on the other. One main fault of the city is its unstable soil along the inlet, creating a danger of soil liquification during an earthquake. The other huge fault is a lack of space and housing, especially affordable housing. There is no sales tax in Anchorage, and no state tax, leaving the burden to property owners, which makes owning a home in Anchorage a bad investment. At the end of a 30 year mortgage, the home owner will have paid well over the assessed value of the home between the regular mortgage, property taxes and interest. 

A hike along Pinochle Creek trail near the
Matanuska Glacier May 17.
Trees have only just started turning green.

May 12 walk near Palmer. A lot of early green.

For those of us along the glacial rivers and streams, beside the hazards of blowing silt, we also always have the worries of flooding. Warmer temperatures melt the glaciers faster, causing these rivers to swell to dangerous levels. Houses are swept away and roadways shut down. Roads in Alaska are costly and if it's a main highway, like the Glenn, which runs alongside the Matanuska River, it's also a main artery to many Alaska residents. This past year, the Dalton, which is used by the "Ice Road Truckers" to provide necessary supplies to Prudhoe Bay, was shut down due to unusual flooding and thawing and refreezing of the "Sag" River. The delays were very costly and the state had no choice but to declare it a disaster, to receive federal funding for the damages and delays to truckers. In 2014, the Richardson Highway, once again a main artery and the only road into Valdez, was shut down for a long period due to unusually warm weather which caused massive snow melt and avalanches in the Keystone Canyon and the subsequent flooding of the Lowe River. That section of roadway had just been restored from another recent bout with flooding of the same river. 

Even with all of these "inconveniences", I still prefer Alaska to many other states. I may have a slight worry about earthquakes, but you can choose not to live on top of a fault line. There may be flooding, but you can choose not to live in an area which won't wash away. Avalanches happen, but there are precautionary measures to be taken if you and your government are smart enough. The problem is usually our government. Short term solutions and lack of foresight as well as bad spending cause most problems, not the weather. I'm glad I don't have to worry about droughts, tornadoes and major hurricanes. There's just one worry all U.S. citizens share and it's always watching us, telling us how to make our money, spend it and taking half.  It's no wonder people come here to seek a little cabin deep in the wilderness and live off the land. It sounds like paradise to me.

Fairbanks Fun

In late summer last year, my husband and I decided to spend a week in Fairbanks with my sister. Usually, this week vacation would have been spent in beautiful Valdez, but my dear sibling had moved up to a small cabin deep in the woods outside of the city and there was no way I could resist a week of that. I was not disappointed.

A seat made of rigid foam insulation,
 hanging at the ready in a public
toilet in one of the area parks.

I had previously spent time in North Pole, just outside of Fairbanks. My family enjoyed renting a sod roofed cabin for a week each summer, watching the lazy Chena River slowly flowing by in the back yard. It was almost guaranteed that the week would be gorgeous, with temperatures near 90 degrees. That's a big point for the Fairbanks area, to those wanting sun and warmth in their Alaska vacation. Finding lodging in the area can be expensive, depending on location and luxury, so an RV is a good option for spending more than a day or two. Area campgrounds are peaceful and plentiful and I have also enjoyed tent camping as well as RV camping. Hotels are pricey, but many have blackout curtains to provide a more restful night of sleep in a land where the sun just doesn't quit in the summer. Cabin rentals are available for short or long-term stays. My sister rented her cabin for a couple hundred dollars a month for the spring, summer and fall seasons. This type of accommodation is great for someone who wants to rough it, as they are typically hidden far into the city's surrounding forests and have no plumbing or water. Expect outhouses, in varying states of decay. These types of cabins are usually used by the Forestry Firefighting crews, as these guys tend to be out at fires for long periods of time and are happy to have a base in which to return. 

The steam train runs around the perimeter of Pioneer Park as the
shadows grow longer on a beautiful August evening.

A visit to the Santa Claus House and its reindeer was a must, though my parents never once led us kids to believe in the jolly old fat man. I was that one kid in school who didn't have any problem telling classmates that the man in the red suit who they caught placing presents under the tree was their father. It was still exciting to visit the colorful building, where it's always Christmas. You don't have to believe in Santa to enjoy all the decorations and gifts. Tour buses make frequent stops at this giant gift shop, so it can be crowded at times. There are gifts for everyone in every budget, and no one can resist a souvenir from the Santa Claus House in North Pole. Expect to spend an hour or two exploring the complex. It's a lovely location for a picnic, as there are peaceful spots outside with gorgeous views of the Chena and reindeer.

One of Santa's reindeer in North Pole.

The Santa Claus House in North Pole, with one of its murals taken from old issues of Harper's Magazine.

A peaceful day on the river behind Santa Claus House.

Another spot I always visit is Pioneer Park, inside Fairbanks along Airport Way. This is a 44-acre historical state park with free admission. Various events are held inside, and there is a nightly salmon bake, arts center, small restaurants, museums, mini golf and historical buildings. A walk around is always worth it and I've never resisted touring the free Pioneer museum with its amazing dioramas of typical Fairbanks mining history. Tour the large sternwheeler, Nenana II, take a whimsical ride on the small train around the park perimeter and picnic in the park or along the pond. It's dog-friendly with several dog clean-up bag stations. Not everyone visiting is dog-friendly, however, so it's good to keep your furry friends leashed. 

A Kashim in Pioneer Park, part of the
exhibits and Native Museum in Pioneer Park.
It is an example of a sod home,
once used by the Natives of Alaska.

One of the exquisitely detailed scenes from the
dioramas in the Pioneer Museum of Pioneer Park.

My husband poses next to the beautifully carved
mechanical salmon near the Salmon Bake in Pioneer Park.

A fire scar near Chena Hot Springs. Forestry fire-
fighters from Fairbanks worked quickly to stop this
forest fire from spreading to the Resort and homes.

A panorama of some of the shops and museums in Pioneer Park.

There are a couple of tourist trap type of locations: a tour of a working gold mine with a short train ride and its affiliation, a large riverboat which travels to a native village. The gold mine tour ends with the ability to pan for your own gold in a sluice. Everyone finds about $10 in gold. A lot of people have enjoyed both activities, though I opted to pan the old-fashioned way. We traveled up to the Fox area, where we found Pedro Creek. The creek was panned by Felix Pedro, an Italian who put Fairbanks on the map when he discovered the creek's hidden riches of gold. We chose to follow in his footsteps and spend a day enjoying the cool water and warm weather while painstakingly swirling mounds of dirt in our pans. We didn't strike it rich, but we had a lot of fun.

A close-up of a mechanical salmon, something I can imagine must be quite a
source of amusement after the guests at the evening Salmon Bake have enjoyed a few libations.

A tribute to Felix Pedro. There is more information about his life at the Pioneer Museum at Pioneer Park. 

My sister plays with her husky in Pedro Creek, her gold pan
temporarily resting while the dog frolics in the cool stream.

I had never visited Chena Hot Springs, so my sister decided it would be a fun trip to take in the evening. It's about 60 miles north of Fairbanks and we chose to go in the evening for better chances at  spotting wildlife. We spotted a couple moose and a fox on the ride back. There are plenty of areas to explore along the way, including great hiking trails and fishing opportunities. I did not partake in the hot springs experience, but I enjoyed touring the grounds. The gardens are beautiful and there are numerous pieces of antique mining equipment incorporated into the designs. The reviews of the restaurant are fantastic and they grown their own produce in greenhouses heated geo-thermally. There  is an indoor heated pool for the family, indoor hot tubs and an outdoor hot springs rock pool for those 18 and over. The resort also has shuttle service for those flying into Fairbanks. A trip to the hot springs during Fairbanks' bitter winter is something I can only imagine to be heavenly, with the aurora dancing vividly above the rock pool. 

A metal dragon sculpture seemingly breathes fire as the late evening clouds cross the northern sky.
 It is around 11 pm in August at Chena Hot Springs.

A dog lounges comfortably upon a table outside an Artist Studio in Pioneer Park

A hot springs filtration pond at Chena Resort.

The Fairbanks area has enough activities to keep someone busy and my husband and I were active from early morning to evening, thoroughly enjoying our stay. Though much of our enjoyment came from just relaxing with my sister at her little cabin in the woods, the area provided us with a lot of fun and sunshine and I plan on exploring the surrounding areas further. In fact, we began considering a move to the area, as long as we can stay in the woods outside of the city with my sister. Anyone else who may be interested in a move to this northern metropolis should consider how many residences are without plumbing. There are water stations around town where many residents fill up large tanks to transport home and fill up their own holding tanks. Gym memberships can provide a way to shower each day in the city, or one can brave the laundromat showers. Air quality in the winter is bad, due to the cold weather holding pollution from heating vehicles and wood stoves. Summer doesn't always mean good air quality either, as the thick spruce forests surrounding the city are like tinder boxes. Amazingly long days of bright sunshine also mean frequent lightning strikes and forest fires. Not everyone can brave this climate and its rough and tumble citizens. The Fairbanks residents still seem to live in the rugged past, sometimes making it feel like you've stepped into the old Pioneer days. 

A view of Denali from the outskirts of Fairbanks.

Ohhhh, Anchorage...

Alaska has its share of problems. One of our biggest has always been infrastructure. There's a lot of ground to cover in this state, and the terrain is no walk in the park to survey, let alone build upon. Anchorage was built as a tent city in 1915 upon orders by President Woodrow Wilson to construct a railroad upon Athabaskan land. Because the city was built by the Army, it was laid out in a very methodical way, but as it grew, a lot of thought was omitted in some areas. Now that lack of thought is biting Anchorage in the butt. 

Besides Anchorage having been built partially upon earth which liquifies and slides into the inlet during large earthquakes, it lacks transportation options in and out of the city with no way to bypass Alaska's largest population. The city should have been built upwards instead of outwards, and the army bases shouldn't have been built in such a way to prevent city expansion, which has skyrocketed property taxes in and around city limits. 

Besides financial and transportation problems with this city, it also has wildlife problems abounding everywhere. This tends to happen when you put a city right between an inlet teeming with marine life and mountains full of of moose and bears. The bears want to get out of the mountains and get to the incoming salmon. Moose come down from the mountains to graze upon low elevation trees, shrubs and open water. Of course, with Anchorage being so short-sighted, they decided to only look at what their human population might enjoy, and completely ignored the needs of its wildlife population. The city built large parks and green strips virtually connecting the mountain with the inlet, and actually expected people to enjoy these parks in a carefree way. I don't know who initially thought this would be a strip of greenery enjoyed exclusively by humans, but I don't think very well of them. Moose attacks are common for bikers and runners speeding along the wooded trails. Just because these people are in the city, they believe it's safe from surprise wildlife attacks. 

Now the city has decided the moose population in its park has risen to dangerous levels. Their solution is a moose hunt within the park, which has happened in Anchorage parks previously. As someone who grew up outside of the cities, I was accustomed to taking precautions when going on my bike rides and jogs along rural routes. Moose were a common occurrence for me since I was a child in grade school. We could always expect to hear from classmates about their morning or afternoon moose encounter at the bus stop. In my neighborhood, houses were not that close and there were kids who lived a mile up the road with no homes within a half mile. These kids rode their bikes or even canoed to the bus stop when spring thaw flooded the route. Shelters are commonly seen along school bus routes which look like children's playhouses. These are built by parents and placed where the neighborhood kids could gather to stay out of freezing temperatures and away from wildlife. In any case, we dealt with the wildlife problem, usually pretty successfully. Why people in the city of Anchorage can't have the same caution within a relatively small stretch of land is beyond me. The only thing I could hope would come from a city park moose hunt would be that the hunters be ADF&G and the meat go to the shelters. 

One uplifting thing I can speak well of is the kindness of several snowmachiners in my beloved nearby Hatcher Pass. They spotted an avalanche site while carefully venturing upon the treacherous slopes of the Talkeetna Mountains. Within this site was something dark sticking barely out of the mounds of hard snow pack. At first believing someone had been tragically caught in the slide, they carefully approached, prepared for the worst. One of the men had a previous experience with losing a fellow snowmachiner in an avalanche. When they finally made it to the dark object, they realized a young cow moose had been caught and possibly slid with the unstable snow 100-150 yards down the mountain. Only its nose was sticking out.  To be able to survive the initial blast of snow, slide that far down and land in a position to be able to continue breathing long enough for someone to see it, is nothing short of incredible. The men immediately began digging, despite possible threat of further slides. They reported that the moose seemed to be begging for their help as they cleared the snow. When they finally removed the pack around the large animal, it stood, probably in a complete daze, until one man patted its rear with a shovel and it miraculously ran off down the mountainside. 

It leaves me with hope for the people of Alaska. Avid outdoorsmen and women who respect and admire the nature of Alaska almost seem to make up for the, well, "other" portion of our population. The ones who are here because they have to be. The people who come up due to jobs, military or (ugh) dividends for their large families. They didn't come here to live with nature, they came for the money. Many of these people live in Anchorage, which is a big reason why I won't live there. I don't see eye-to-eye with quite a few of the Anchorage residents. I worked with them for years, as I preferred to deal with a long commute for my job, rather than live amongst them. Some of them had never been outside of Anchorage. One co-worker revealed he hadn't seen the need to venture outside of Anchorage for anything in the 15 years he had lived there. His vehicle had only city miles, and its destinations were grocery stores, malls and work. What an incredibly boring, monotonous life in a state where such beauty can be enjoyed. I was appalled at how many people in Anchorage felt this way. Rather than violently smacking the man upside his tiny head, I opted to convince him to take his daughter to Portage Glacier for a short day trip. He actually listened and came back with a different outlook. He explained with enthusiasm how his daughter reacted excitedly to seeing such scenery and nature. 

At least, maybe I changed the opinions of one family in Anchorage and opened their eyes to a life of adventure outside of a crowded, poorly planned city. I can only hope more transplanted residents start living the life of an Alaskan, instead of someone living for the money provided by this rich state. There are more than just monetary riches to be gained from this state. Like the beautiful moose frequenting the Anchorage parks.

Winter

Getting ready for winter in Alaska can be easy for those living in the cities. Anchorage residents like all-weather tires so they don't have to go through tire change-over, but that usually applies more to those who only travel within city limits. Others line up for studded tires and change-overs at the nearest auto shop after studded tire season begins. For a lot of these people living in cities, the biggest issues for winter survival are tires and winter gear, maybe an auto-start or heating block for the car and perhaps some winterization for home-owners. Then there are those who live away from civilization. 

The true Alaskans must think about heating fuel, food, animals (pets, livestock, predators), winterization, transportation, etc. Though I don't have to worry about all of this in my current situation, I have in the past, and I intend to do so again. I prefer the remote wilderness, being trapped in a cabin while the blustering snow piles against my door and windows, while I watch the fireplace flames dance and crackle. A solitude weighs upon the land, lifted only when the drone of a small plane flies somewhere overhead or the sound of snapping willows cut the silence as a moose grazes outside. It's a lonely season for those living off the grid in Alaska, but it's certainly not some silly new "trend" so many people in other parts of the U.S. are discovering. Unlike many other areas of the United States, Alaskans never abandoned the age-old methods of hunting, gathering and subsistence living. There are still plenty of us who know how to gather food, chop wood and build pretty much whatever we want, whenever we want. 

There's a documentary I find to be a fantastic example of remote Alaskan living, and I highly recommend it to everyone. It is called "Alone in the Wilderness" and it was filmed by, and stars, Dick Proenneke. This man was amazing and watching the film will make you feel like a lazy buffoon, but will also inspire watchers to be more industrious. He built himself a cabin in Lake Clark National Park, and the cabin is still there, for inspired hikers to inspect with awe. There are still some people who live in the ways of Proenneke, although most Alaskans now use snowmachines (don't you dare say snow-mobile to an Alaskan) and four-wheelers to make life a little easier. Of course, these conveniences also bring along their own sets of issues for seasonal preparation. 

With our winters come terrifying winds, strong enough to blow over semi trucks and trailers, motorhomes, campers and remove roofs. I was unfortunate enough to have the roof of my home blow off during a particularly bad wind storm. In the nearby town, a fire raged across an old homestead, blowing out of control and erupting in huge bursts of flames, visible from miles away. The fire hit the main transformer station and caused a large power outage. At my own home, the metal roofing ripped off the trusses and landed in my parking spot, which was empty at the time. I had driven further up the mountain to view the massive blaze ripping through town. When I arrived home, a live wire was flailing dangerously in the wind, sparks shooting across the yard. The electricity had been wired into the house through the roof, so naturally it ripped off. A street over, another home was shredded by the same wind gust. All of this left me without electricity, water and sufficient heating in the middle of winter. Mailboxes were ripped off the posts and mail was lost to the drifted snow banks. Bills were lost and creditors unforgiving (despite a great credit record) of this natural disaster implemented extra charges and increased rates of those of us just trying to survive. I cancelled those accounts, by the way. FEMA gave a little support and combined with the insurance payout, it was still not enough to fix the house properly. Even with all of the chaos and lack of amenities, I didn't feel defeated or sad. Living rough is the Alaskan way of life, and a lot of us are prepared to do so at any time. 

This is probably why, every fall season, I tend to drop off the radar. I go without internet, travel and shopping and instead, focus on a long haul through winter. My husband picks up perishable food once a week and we venture out for a supply run every 4 or 5 months. Any other shopping is done online when necessary. My basement's cold storage is filled with the garden's harvest, windows are sealed, the property has been scoured for items which may become lost in the snow or blown over, room is created in the arctic entry for the surplus of winter items necessary for even a short walk, trees are trimmed or downed before their branches or the tree itself destroys property, outside water supplies are winterized (if you have any plumbing, that is) and the list goes on and on and on. 

Winter in Alaska is tough, but fall is brutal. The pressure to accomplish everything which makes it possible to sit and enjoy a crackling fire during a snowstorm can break a person. Compared to fall, winter can be sweet relief to an Alaskan. For some, it's like a vacation. There's nothing more you can do once the snow hits and temperatures plummet. Just sit back, listen to the wind howl, and let the flames of a cozy fire lull you into a contented sleep. Enjoy the break, because when spring arrives, it's time to prepare for the next winter. 

Nenana

On the trip back from Fairbanks this summer, I stopped in the tiny town of Nenana, the location of the popular "Nenana Ice Classic." I didn't stay for long, as I had spent more time in Fairbanks than originally planned. It's a pretty little place and my brief walk around made me want to stop again on my next trip. There is more to see than what I captured on camera and I wouldn't mind camping here, close to the Tanana River. This river is a lifeline for residents living in the remote areas around Nenana. In the summer, there are usually boats being filled with supplies for transport to villages or residences. This is also where the dyptheria serum arrived by train from Anchorage and was then rushed to Nome by a dogsled team, the only form of transportation available. The town now hosts the "Serum Run," which follows that original route, unlike the Iditarod, which starts in Anchorage and meanders up through the wilderness until reaching Nome.

Nenana is an hour south of Fairbanks, along the Parks Highway, and is worth a peek for visitors interested in Native history of Interior Alaska, the Iditarod, Interior transportation, northern lights (winter) or the Ice Classic. It is the only place where someone can buy tickets for the famous spring break-up competition at any time of year. As someone who enjoys the culture of my state, I found Nenana to be a valuable insight into the true lifestyle of real Alaskans. There are fewer and fewer towns, accessible by road, which still demonstrate the pioneer spirit. I'll harp on that later. For now, I hope you'll enjoy this short video. 

Personal Ramblings

I suffer from what I believe is high functioning autism. I also live in a state which has very high rates of depression. I've had depression all my life and the last year was one of the worst. After periods of insomnia and pain, I began having severe panic attacks. Doctors' visits were expensive and it added to my stresses. After being on medication, I'm still having a few issues, though I had felt much better until now. I don't know if it was getting older, since I had a birthday recently, combined with some pains, but my stress level has been elevated and I'm going through a bit of a hard time.  Alaska's days are getting shorter and colder, so depression is setting in for many people. Things can be especially difficult in the fall, since there are so many preparations to be done for the winter. I usually turn to The Bible for calming myself down, or I distract myself in other ways, though little helps. I wouldn't normally want to talk about these problems, but maybe it will help me or others. I know I need to eat more healthy foods, though tasty vegetables and fruits are not so easy to get in Alaska. They are expensive and usually bland if they come from shipments. Fruits and vegetables are sent unripened and when they arrive, it's to a warehouse which gasses them to make them ripe. These are some of the downsides to life in Alaska. There are a lot of things which make life more difficult here, but there are also a lot of things which make it very enjoyable. As much as I love the state, I wouldn't mind spending a few months in Hawaii every year, but who wouldn't?

Hatcher Pass Vol. 2- Gold Cord Hike

A popular trail in Hatcher Pass is the Gold Cord Lake Trail at Independence Mine.  It leads up to Gold Cord Lake and an historic cabin. It's a very busy trail in the summer and especially on weekends. The area can be skied in the winter by parking at the Independence Basin below Independence Mine. I hiked the area recently and enjoyed a beautiful, early fall day while admiring the alpine tundra of the Talkeetna Mountains. There were a lot of dogs on the trail and any dog owners wanting to hike with their pets need to make sure the dog is socialized with people and other dogs. They should be leashed, as they should also stay on the trail and off the delicate tundra and shouldn't be let to run around chasing the small animals trying to forage the mountain. I watched as one pet owner yelled for the dog to come back, while the dog shot off across the mountainside, paying no attention to its owner's calls. Dogs like these are the type that bring back an angry bear to their master, or some innocent hiker. Plus, you should be cleaning up after your pet, so you shouldn't let it wander more than leash distance from you at any time. One tiny dog was an exception, as it followed very closely to his master, and its size meant it wasn't heavy enough to damage a lot of the shallow-rooted tundra plants. In any case, I'll make an excuse for him because he was so darn cute and he let me pet him.







On another note, if anyone reading this ever hiked up to the Gold Cord Lake and found a nice camera tripod along the ridge, it was mine. I hope you've found it useful. I hiked back up to get it at 3 or 4 in the morning one summer, after realizing it was left behind, but it was gone by then. As I was hiking back down empty-handed, I apparently got too close to a fox den and was chased back down the mountain in a hurry, as the fox circled around me. It would have been a great photo opportunity, had I not been scrambling down a mountain in the middle of the night.

Hatcher Pass, Vol. 1

"Falling Apart"
Mine shops along the upper trail around Independence Mine.

I've been enjoying the last of our beautiful summer season in nearby Hatcher Pass. It's a favorite spot for my me and my husband since it's so close and offers a lot of diverse photo opportunities. The lower elevation has the swift-flowing Little Susitna River, mid-elevation levels have a wonderful variety of subalpine plants and the upper elevations are alpine tundra with the Talkeetna Mountains  topped with dramatic rock faces. We almost always see some form of wildlife, be it large or small. There is plenty of parking along the road and numerous trails scattered throughout the 300,000 acres. The pavement ends at the Independence Mine State Historical Park. You can usually continue through to Willow from July to September, if the snow has melted enough to plow, or the snow hasn't yet fallen. The entire area has changing views around every corner, giving a little something for everyone.

At the entrance to the Pass on Palmer Fishhook Road, travelers are greeted by the white rushing water of the Little Su, as called by locals. You can park in the parking lot and get your photos of the river and wander around, but there area also a few more areas along the road where less-often photographed views are available. Some are hidden away with tiny trails and foliage. Please don't stop on the bridge or walk on the bridge for photographs. Pedestrian and vehicle traffic is generally busy here and accidents could easily happen. Gold panning is allowed in many areas, but it's important to check regulations before digging up someone's private claim. A ski and snowboard trail popular with local boarders is at the Fishhook Creek parking lot. In the winter, boarders hitch a ride from this lot, up to the trail's beginning at a large, upper elevation parking lot. Here, they wait their turn for a run back down where they do it all over again. Very busy during the winter with a few rude hitchhiking boarders who get angry when you pass them up. There's a couple of sledding hills that are also packed after a snowfall in the lower elevations.

"Red Edged"
A striking leaf from an unidentified plant in the subalpine level of Hatcher Pass.

Though the area is so close, I've been camping at the two campgrounds available in Hatcher Pass. The first campground, Palmer side, is Government Peak. It has one handicap parking spot for campers and the site for the Government Peak Campground says there are 8 camping sites, though I could swear there are more like 6. I think they are including the day use spots that require you to park in the lot and walk in for a tent site. The fees for the campgrounds are $10. They have outhouses and dumpsters which are bear-proofed. Good thing, since a black bear seems to have been hanging out in that area this summer. It killed a moose in the adjacent ski trail parking lot in early summer and I saw a large black bear foraging berries on the slope nearby in late August.

"Chef's Quarters"
Tim, my little Chef, stands reflecting on the balcony of the Cooks' Quarters at Independence Mine.

Traveling up past the Gold Mint Trail takes you to some breathtaking views of the Palmer area while suddenly climbing in elevation. The Archangel Road is a bumpy, terribly rough dirt road that I would recommend only be traversed by a good 4x4, bike or by foot in the summer. I have been back with a two-wheel drive truck, but my tires had a near-death experience when crossing a rusty culvert with jagged edges protruding. There's another day use parking lot with a trailhead and outhouses further along. This is a good trail to start searching for subalpine wildflowers if you are interested in wildflower identification or macro photography. There are also a number of cheerful birds in this area which might interest the wandering birder. The area becomes ripe with blueberries in late August.

"Rough Riding"
The Archangel Road when I last traveled that mess.

Independence Mine wraps up the paved portion of the Willow-Fishhook Road. There's no camping at the Mine and a $5 day use fee applies to anyone staying for over 30 minutes. I would recommend a day for exploring the area. There's a lot to see, especially if you decide to visit the Visitor Center, museum or bookstore and possibly engage in a tour for $6. Hiking Trails around the area can provide hours of entertainment, whether viewing pika on nearby boulders or examining the alpine tundra's plethora of miniature plants. There are still private mines and property up here, so respect the boundaries. I noticed a very large number of dog owners like to walk their furry friends around the park trails.

"The Chef's Staircase"
Tim appeases me by posing for my picture in the Escher-like staircase of the Cookhouse at Independence Mine.

I love, love, love dogs, so I do enjoy stopping for a moment and talking with the little guys and offering a quick pet before continuing. I usually never even see the owner because I'm so focused on the dogs. As much as I enjoy this, I did see evidence of some irresponsible ownership. Some people didn't clean up after their dogs along the trails, some let them wander too far on their leash, trampling delicate tundra that is posted as revegetation. On surrounding trails without leash requirements, some dogs wandered well off the trails, bothering the wildlife. One more important factor in letting a dog run loose is the fact that many bear attacks in Alaska occur because someone let their pet run ahead and encounter a bear. The dog ultimately freaks out and runs back to the owner, with the bear on its heels. Many bears are shot because of the irresponsibility of their owners. The barking also got frustrating and it disturbed the many small critters trying their hardest to prepare for winter. Dogs left in the vehicle seemed to all go crazy when their owner walked away.

"Siberian Aster"
A delicate and satin-petaled fading aster in the alpine tundra above Independence Mine along Gold Cord Lake Trail.

Just as frustrating as the irresponsible dog owners were the ill-behaved visitors who disrespected historic artifacts by throwing and playing with some of the objects. I observed group of people swinging on the aerial tram cable. One object had been laying in a meadow and my husband took a picture, which was nice, since on our next hike we discovered the object had been thrown into a beautiful little mossy stream.

"Left Behind"
An artifact Tim photographed, west of the main mine complex, which someone later threw in the creek.

If you have an adequate vehicle for rougher road travel, venture on up to Summit Lake or continue through to Willow. Most rental car companies do not allow travel on the gravel/dirt portions of the road and it can be muddy with jagged rocks. On our last visit, there was a Jeep owners meet-up happening. A 20 or so Jeep caravan passed us on their way over the Pass on the gorgeous September morning. There are more trails on this road and a chance to play in the snow in summer, which I've found appeals to many visitors.

"Dusty Drive"
The gravel portion of the twisting mountain road leading over the Pass toward Willow.

Despite its crowds on the weekends, it's still a fun place to spend the day and I always recommended a trip to the Pass for any Visitors. It's a very popular day-tripping spot for the Anchorage crowds, so I try to avoid weekend visits, when possible. The public restrooms get pretty iffy by the end of the weekend and could use more attention.

Arctic Ground Squirrels

A recent trip to Hatcher Pass once again left me feeling happy and content. My husband and I decided to spend the evening out and although we looked at the sky and saw beautiful clear blues with warm sun all around us, we opted to go in the only direction where clouds covered the mountains. The reason for this was purely wildflowers. We hoped for light rain and saturated colors for our macro shots of the many lovely plants scattered across the different elevations of the Pass. More on that later. A wildflower post of Hatcher Pass will take a while. I'll just say that it was a successful trip, once again. For now, I've put together photos and video taken on our Hatcher Pass hikes of the Arctic Ground Squirrels living in the many burrows along the trails. The video was taken on our August 18th wildflower hike near Independence Mine.

John Muir called the arctic ground squirrels the "staff of life" for the many animals of Denali National Park. These cute little rodents are one of the most common food sources for the predators of Denali. On a trip recently to Denali National Park, I found an interesting ground squirrel display hidden away in the interactive educational displays in the main Visitor Center.

The sign on the display says that one burrow in DNP had 56 different escape exits to avoid digging predators. Hatcher Pass is littered with small holes, a hazard to watch out for while hiking.

Cross Country

I have traveled from Alaska to Maryland and Maryland to Alaska numerous times. It was always an adventure, especially traveling with a family of five. On one particularly memorable trip, my mother and father and us three girls made the journey in a small truck with a regular truck shell. On another trip, we found ourselves narrowly averting disaster. During one trip back to Alaska, we had to out run a fire. The last trip I made was with my husband, shortly after we were married, and it quickly ended the honeymoon period. It wasn't always bad and it wasn't always good, but it was certainly an experience to remember.

Stone's Sheep licking the road in the Rockies.

 When I was young and gas prices were not so high, my family made the trip every few years. My parents were born in Maryland and moved to Alaska just before I was born. They left their family behind when they moved, so I think it was partly due to guilt and mostly because my mother missed Maryland that we spent so many Junes on the east coast. None of our vehicles ever had air conditioning and our sleeping accommodations in the truck consisted of a couple of plywood boards and pieces of foam. My father slept under the suspended board on the truck bed. During the day the boards slid together and formed a bench seat where my father attached seatbelts to get us through the border legally. We were always terrified the border control was going to rip our truck apart and leave us to put everything back. When we arrived in Maryland my father bought a camper for the trip back. Unfortunately the camper was in rough shape and it took my father nearly the entire vacation to make it usable.

The Painted Canyon, Theodore Roosevelt National Park, North Dakota

No matter how old I was, one of the best parts of the trip was the Alcan highway. It was bumpy, rugged and full of wildlife. I would one day like to take the scenic "Top of the World Highway" during the fall when colors are at their peak. Another route I would be interested to take is the Marine highway system. Hopping a ferry from Vancouver to Seward sounds like a relaxing and fun way to travel. Although the Alcan highway is mostly enjoyable, we did have one heart stopping moment. We were traveling through a rain storm along a dirt section of highway late at night. The dirt had become mud and visibility was near zero. The truck began to slide and I witnessed a reaction from my father I had never seen before- panic and terror. When we stop sliding, my father managed to carefully maneuver us back onto the road. There was a small truckstop a couple hundred yards ahead and, with much relief, we pulled over for the night. In the morning my father walked back to look for our muddy skid marks. He came back with wide eyes and reported that the skid marks had stopped just inches from a huge drop-off. It taught me that the Alcan highway should be driven with absolute care and caution.

A bison at a rest stop at the Painted Canyon.

There were couple of trips where we got to stretch our legs in the comfort of a motorhome. It was a particularly hot and dry summer, especially in Montana and the Dakotas. There are long sections of interstate cutting through grassy plains and farmland. There were so many grasshoppers it sounded like we were driving through rain. We pulled over at a store to get some icy treats and enjoy their air-conditioning. We hit so many grasshoppers they had clogged our grill, so my father had to put a piece of cardboard over part of it. When we hit the road again, we decided to roll down the windows for breeze. We immediately regretted our decision, as the grasshoppers started flying inside, one landing in my poor Grandmother's open mouth. Our windows had to go back up anyway, since we then approached an out of control grass fire jumping the road from field to field. We had to dodge a few flames and made it through just before the road was closed.

A herd of bison grazed along the road in Canada to our delight.

 Throughout the years I discovered I had a lot more in common with my father than I had realized. Right around the time he turned 20 is when my father moved to Alaska. He lived in Palmer briefly as a child and had always wanted to come back. During his first job in Alaska he had to pour a cement pad for the Palmer visitor center. He had to leave the job halfway through to get his wisdom teeth pulled and after the procedure he immediately went back and finished the job, leaving his initials in the cement. I was not aware of this when I began working at the visitor center. I too had to leave work one day to get my wisdom teeth pulled and by the time I turned 20, I had decided to move to Maryland for a while. My father told me his story when I had my wisdom teeth pulled and the first thing I did when I got back into work was find my dad's initials on that cement pad. I had learned a lot from my father and it was time to put that knowledge to use and leave home. In Maryland I met my husband and we married within a year. I got to show him Alaska for our honeymoon, taking him on all the road trips which my father had taken me. Of course, my husband loved the state, I would not have married him if I thought otherwise. It only took a nudge from me and before I knew it, we had bought a truck, packed it full of our belongings and hit the road. 

A cloudy spring day driving through the Rocky Mountains.

 I had planned our trip out in detail, most of it being the same route my father had taken all those times. This time I opted to travel through North Dakota's painted canyon area. Experiencing the canyons and the many bison helped break up the monotonous interstate. I have always taken the lesser used Montana border crossing and never had any trouble. My husband and I were praying the border patrol would not search our truck as it was so tightly and precisely packed, we were sure we'd never get it back together. We breathed a sigh of relief when we made it through the border crossing without a search and continued on to a hotel for the night. In the morning we awoke to find our truck shorter then we had left it. Our back tires were ruined and flat from the weight of the truck. We carefully drove the truck to a service station across the street from the hotel. The entrance to the service station was on a steep incline and the truck scraped bottom when pulling in. Then we were told our tires would have to be replaced and the only tires they could get us were pricey. We needed strong and durable tires to haul all that weight across the Alcan. It took most of the day to get back on the road, and a good bit of money. 

Nikka Yuka Garden, Lethbridge, Alberta. Its name means Japanese/Canadian Friendship. Though it had closed for the day, I managed to sneak a picture.

 

I had planned a stop in Lethbridge, Alberta to visit the Nikka Yuko Japanese Garden. My family had always made a stop there to stretch our legs and enjoy the beauty, but this time I arrived about a half hour after closing. I also missed a visit to Milk River Visitor Center, where a 36' tall tyrannosaur greets you upon arrival. Up until this point we had only pulled our camera out for the Painted Canyon and resident bison. Things picked up and we started seeing lots of wildlife, which was the best part of the trip. One thing to keep in mind as you travel north is where you'll be staying and where the next gas station will be. Both get harder to come by and by the time you hit the "Signpost Forest," the accommodations get downright dodgy. I won't elaborate on my hotel room's conditions that night at Watson Lake. I'll just say this; I will remember that room forever, and refuse to ever stay in another like it. Hotels in the smaller, northern towns of Canada and Alaska aren't great, so I would advise a little advance research and book your room early. The good ones fill up faster. The Alcan is reportedly in better shape with no gravel and fewer curves and hills than when I traveled its route so many times, so it should be a more relaxing journey for anyone wanting to see it now.

Sign Post Forest, Watson Lake

If I ever make the 5000 mile trip again, I want to do it as a vacation in and of itself.  No more tight schedules and timelines. It was never a sightseeing trip for me. I only traveled with the goal of getting to Alaska or Maryland as quickly as possible. I would visit the National Parks and probably try to travel the Pacific Northwest route up through British Columbia. I would search for dinosaur fossils and eggs in the Badlands of Alberta. I would put my own sign amongst the 72,000 at the sign forest, just as my parents did when they moved to Alaska. I would try to take the Top of the World Highway and experience more of the Yukon and the old gold rush towns. I have my plate full of all the things I still want to see and do in Alaska, but a cross-country journey to see the National Parks and visit beautiful Canada is something I just can't take off my list, and neither should anyone else.

Curious Caribou along the Alaska-Canada Highway

Muncho Lake, a lovely green even when frozen in May. The military had a tough time cutting the road around this rocky shore.

A deer sighting in Canada. I can't see the tail and I'm not sure about the ear size, so I'm having trouble telling whether this is a mule or black-tail deer.

The Klondike II, a sternwheeler that saw its last run up the Yukon in 1955, where it was retired in Whitehorse. Whitehorse is where it was built in 1936, after the Klondike I sank. The Klondike II is an exact duplicate of the first and it was used to transport materials for the construction of the Alaska Highway. It sits in Whitehorse as an historic landmark.

Mile 0 of the Alaska Highway in Dawson City

An elk stared us down before haughtily walking off along the highway.

Mt. Sanford, a 16,237' shield volcano in the Wrangells, a beautiful and welcoming sight to come home to.

Hunting...

Growing up in Alaska with a Father who hunted, meant that I grew up hunting. As the oldest daughter, my Dad was always teaching me how to shoot, fish and hunt. I enjoyed myself, though it wasn't exactly a walk in the park. Hunting and fishing in Alaska can be quite difficult. It can be strenuous, back-breaking, nerve-wracking, dangerous and wet! Then there are the regulations to follow. Alaska's hunting and fishing regulations are very strict and extensive. The troopers who have to patrol this enormous state to catch hunting and fishing law-breakers have a lot of ground to cover. Needless to say, some people get away with breaking the laws of the land. Those who don't, get their equipment, vehicles, boats, ATV's and their game confiscated. Whatever they were using to commit the illegal act is taken, and they are heavily fined. I'm talking about this subject because I feel a lot of non-Alaskans misunderstand Alaska hunters and hunting regulations.

Let's start with food sources available in Alaska. Some of us have a grocery store. Some of us don't. The prices of food in Alaska are pretty high in comparison with other states. In many rural villages across the state it's not possible for the residents to get what they need whenever they need it. The prices are extremely high for them, and they don't usually have much of an income, if any. Some of the prices that may be seen in a rural village grocery store are $14/ half gal. juice, $9/ half gal. milk, $14 for a small container of fruit,  $8/box cereal, $7 loaf of bread and fresh water is very high as well. Then there's the cost of living. It can be hard to get somewhere up here. We don't have mass transit except for some buses in Anchorage. Gas in rural communities can be upwards of $10/gal and the same for heating fuel. There are many villages which don't have access to clean water for drinking and with high prices for anything healthy, their alternative is cheaper juices and sodas which are sugar-filled. This leads to dental and other health problems. The price of medical care in Alaska is higher, too. So when a fishery or land management area is closed to hunting and fishing for people in the area, it's denying them access to the only food source they can get.

Killing it in Valdez. Yeah, I'm an awesome angler, I don't mind saying. I was taught by the best.

 The next people who hunt are those like my family. We have access to grocery stores, but prices are fairly high. Having meat in the freezer for the winter was important. We ate a lot of fish, moose and caribou which we worked hard to acquire. I can say with all confidence that our meat was a lot better than the corn-fed, antibiotic filled meat you find at the store. My father grew up poor, and to save his mother from having one more mouth to feed, he would disappear for days at a time. He would live off the land for a few days and then come home, receiving a scolding from his mother for disappearing so long. He was only about 10 when he started doing this. Naturally, he wanted to show his daughter how to do the same. I grew up feeling like I could withstand any disaster that came, because I can wander off into the woods and live just fine. We didn't hunt for sport. 

It's easy to tell who is hunting for sport and who is hunting for necessity. Anyone spending thousands of dollars on gear and guides and planes is out for the trophy. I hear people talk badly of Alaskans for hunting this way, but in reality, it's people from out of state flying up here for the thrill of the hunt. Lucky for them, we have a lot of wildlife and not a lot of Alaskans to hunt them. I read the state trooper dispatches during hunting and fishing seasons and I see a lot of people from out of state getting the fines. Commercial fishermen and game guides come up here to partake in Alaska's bountiful harvests, and then take their money out of state to spend it. Personally, I think if you're going to benefit commercially from Alaska's wildlife harvests, you should have to live here. Plenty of the guides from out of state don't obey our laws, either. At least when these law-breakers are caught, their harvests are confiscated and donated to charity.

One major thing that has always bothered me was the people from out of state that don't know enough about Alaska's wildlife regulations to pass judgement, yet doing so anyway. I've been attacked verbally by narrow-minded individuals that have no concept of subsistence or survival in Alaska. In fact, I've felt offended many, many times by ignorant comments about Alaska and Alaskans. There are organizations that have an agenda and spread slander or propaganda defaming Alaskans and the Alaskan way of life. Most true Alaskans are wary of "outsiders" and feel on edge when engaging in conversation. We're just waiting for the topic of hunting, gun control or Alaska government to come up and we have to play defense constantly.

A successful caribou hunt for me. A good hunter dresses the animal in the field and bags it in game bags to keep flies off. Preserving the meat is of the utmost importance.

Since I was a young teen, I've had to defend myself from people operating on emotion. I engaged in debates during school, always taking the side of the hunter, since these are the topics for Alaskan schoolchildren. When arriving for the first day of school, kids swapped hunting stories. I was left out, because I was a girl. The boys and even teachers looked at me like I was speaking a different language, just because I could say what type of gun I used and the game district where I hunted. For me, it was even more difficult to feel accepted. Then when I moved to Maryland for a short period of time, I nearly had a nervous breakdown. The negativity of people towards Alaska and its people was overwhelming. The culture shock was hard enough, but to have people blasting your way of life and the land you love without knowing any of the facts was unbearable.

We are not a bunch of cruel animal killers. We do not let people get away with shooting whatever they want. We care about our wildlife and have strict hunting and fishing regulations. You have to apply for a caribou permit for specific herds, and hope you get one. If you want to get a cow moose, you have to apply for that and be lucky as well. You can get a hunting permit for bear or bull moose, but the regulations for jurisdiction, size, age and antler specifications makes it a very difficult hunt. That's why trophy hunters hire guides to tell them when to pull the trigger.

I don't hunt anymore, and I fish for salmon when I can. Hunting was an experience I won't ever forget. It was scary, adrenaline-pumping and exhausting. I stopped when I began having dreams of moose pulling a gun on me. We don't all enjoy killing an animal, I know I had issues with it. However, if I end up living in the bush and taking up a subsistence lifestyle, I would do it again when necessary. I could survive and provide for myself in the wilderness. How many women can say that?