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.