August 23-28 -- Alaska! (Part 2)

Let's continue from where we left off, shall we? It's the day I left Lake Louise...

Now here's a fine start to the day -- the Talkeetna Mountains, west of Lake Louise, as seen through the Canon 100-400 MK II lens. Alaska's landscape is huge, but not this huge; the foreshortening of objects gets larger as you zoom out with the lens. This was taken at 400mm. Sort of like rear-view mirrors -- Objects Appear Closer Than They Really Are. Still, it's an impressive sight. 

 Back along the Glenn Highway, the scenery gets more dramatic, with open land that stretches for miles to the mountains beyond. I think it's the massive size, more than anything else, that impresses me most about both the Yukon Territory and Alaska. It's huge here!  

A little further down the road is Matanuska Glacier; it's the largest glacier accessible by car in the United States. Notice that I said car; driving down the narrow road to the glacier with a truck and trailer would be a bit of a challenge. Rats! 

I'd read in reviews, and what people had told me, that the RV parks in Anchorage were basically rigs side-by-side, with some parks located in iffy sections of town. So I opted to stay outside of the city at the Eagle River Campground, about 15 miles north of Anchorage, near the town of Eagle River. As I'd driven about 6500 miles so far, under challenging conditions, I wanted to have Tundra go through the 120,000 mile servicing at the Toyota dealership in Anchorage so "he" would be ready for the rest of the journey. Peace of mind while traveling, especially solo, is very important to me, and worth the money. The campground had no hookups, but was worth the $20 a day. And the setting was certainly more scenic than being next to a monster RV in the city. 

After taking Tundra to the dealership and getting the thumbs-up, I was free to explore the area around the Eagle River. The river starts at Eagle Glacier in Chugach State Park;  the campground is also in the park. Canoes and other watercraft use the river, though parts of it are a Category III (difficult). The photo below shows you why -- 

There's a trail, starting from the campground, that goes upriver. I took the canister bear spray with me and hiked for about a mile. (Since I hike solo, I usually whistle to let any bears know I'm around. And since I have chronic sinusitis, I clear my throat, too. Also, I'm always checking the ground for fresh bear scat. You can't be too careful.)  I came upon these colorful mushrooms, which I later discovered, after posting the photo of Facebook, that it's poisonous. Pretty, though! 

After spending 3 days at the campground, I had the propane tanks filled in the town of Eagle River and headed back up the Glenn Highway to Palmer, where I stayed at an RV park with full facilities. I'd camped without hookups for about a week, and my batteries were running low due to the cloudy days -- very little sun means the solar panels can't fully charge the batteries --  so I needed a place with hookups to clean up and recharge -- both me and the batteries. Palmer is in the Matunuska Valley, which was, and still is, a very fertile area with farmland. The Alaska State Fair is held here for 1 week around Labor Day -- and that's when I arrived there. The traffic was backed up for about 2 miles. I eventually made it through, turned off on the road leading to the RV park -- and found out the road where the RV park was located, 0.8 mile further, was closed for construction. Sheesh!  The gal directing traffic gave me directions to get around the construction and arrive at the park, and I thought, "I'm never going to remember all of this! " But it was actually easier than I expected, except for when I mistakenly went down a road without a pilot car, and had to back up when a grader was coming my way. DOH!  Luckily, I didn't get yelled at. And I eventually arrived at the RV park. 

After setting up the chargers to re-charge the batteries, I took a drove the truck down to nearby Matanuska River, and walked around. Everything is larger here than down in the lower 48. 

A glacier in a mountain range, looking to the west -- 

And the sunset that night was spectacular.  It even had this sun dog. 

The next day was one of the highlights of my time in Alaska, the drive along the Fishhook-Willow Road, otherwise known a the Hatcher Pass Road. It goes up to the top of Hatcher Pass at 3,886 feet and the road is about 40 miles long. And mostly unpaved. Here's the paved part on the east side -- 

-- which turns to unpaved about a mile from the pass. 

The marker at Hatcher Pass summit.

And just below the marker, on the west side, is Summit Lake. 

Walking past the summit marker, I saw this Merlin -- 

And an inquisitive Arctic Ground Squirrel.

The scenery west of the summit was gorgeous, with both autumn and summer colors.

Willow Creek runs along the west section of the road. 

I'd been warned about these by friends who've been here. Potholes dot this west section of the Hatcher Pass Road. I had to weave around them to make sure my axles and tires survived. But it wasn't as bad as it looks; I met a motorhome coming up going east!  I was out of the truck on the side of the road, so the lady on the passenger side rolled down the window and we chatted a bit. Her husband in the driver's seat didn't say a word, but that's because her talking more than more up for his silence. Then she mentioned that Denali was "out", and that you could see it from the town of Willow, along the Parks Highway at the west end of the road. Then she said "Yeah, changing the name back to Denali was one of the few good things Obama ever did!" Uh, okay... 

And when I arrived at the west end of the road at Willow -- holy smokes,  she was right ---

That view with the lake was actually about 10 miles north of Willow, as I was looking for a photogenic spot to photograph Denali, formerly Mount McKinley, and the highest mountain in North America at 20,310 feet. Prior to being named Mount McKinley by a prospector in support of presidential candidate William McKinley, who never saw the mountain, most Alaskans had already referred to it as Denali, which means "high" or "tall". Denali was still "out" a day later, when I was driving up the Parks Highway on the way to my next destination --

Here's a closeup of Denali, taken with the 100-400 lens, so once again Objects Appear Closer Than They Really Are, though Denali isn't much less massive than this -- 

After Palmer and Hatcher Pass, my next planned stop was boondocking along the Denali Highway. The Denali is mostly gravel, and about 135 miles long. Until 1971 it was the only way to reach Denali National Park, when the paved Parks Highway was constructed. I didn't want to go too far on the Denali towing my trailer Discovery, as the road had a reputation for being quite rough, with potholes and gravel that, as speeding cars would pass you, would fly up and crack your windshield. So I searched around for a spot to park for the night, and settled on a pullout that gave me a great view of Denali, which was still "out" and at least 50 miles away. Here's the western start of the Denali Highway, as seen when driving my rig -- 

And some of the beautiful summer/fall colors among the Far North spruce forest -- 

And from my boondocking site -- Denali. You can just make out wind-whipped snow on the upper flanks of the mountain. I was really looking forward to seeing Denali in early-morning light.. But that will be for the next blog entry. :o) 

August 16-22 -- Alaska! (Part 1)

I started North to Alaska on July 6. I can't believe it's now September 27, that I've been on the road for nearly 3 months, and that I'm now back at Whitehorse, having done the North To Alaska leg of this journey, and am now into the South From Alaska stage.  This epic journey -- for that's what it's turning out to be -- has gone better than I could have ever hoped for. I've had 60-plus days of mostly excellent weather; no bugs to speak of so I've used my arsenal of bug repellents very little -- and my health has been good, just a few colds here and there. (And I have one right now.)  I've seen things on this trip that were on my wish list, but never thought in my wildest dreams that I actually would -- in Alaska alone, I've seen Denali the mountain "out" for 7 days, totally unobscured, which is very rare (it's said that there's only a 30% chance of visitors to Denali Nat'l Park seeing Denali at all); the Alaska Range as viewed from the Denali Highway was completely clear, too, which is another infrequent occurrence; and, most amazing of all, I witnessed the Aurora Borealis, aka The Northern Lights. But there has recently been a little "hitch in my giddyup"--  but I'm getting way ahead of myself. It's time to catch up with what's happened since the last blog entry, over a month ago. Since so much has happened since then, it will be faster to give photos with captions, and add any memorable moments to the narrative. So without further ado, here's when I left Whitehorse, largest town in the Yukon Territory, and headed north up the Alcan...

Glacier-topped mountains as seen from the Alcan (most of these photos up to the border with Alaska were taken alongside the road, usually from rest stops). 

 

Kluane Lake, with its vast size looking more like an ocean than a lake. It's 50 miles long and covers 158 square miles.

One of the massive mountain ranges on the surrounding Kluane Lake -- and some very photogenic driftwood. (And no, I didn't arrange them to look like that.) 

I took this while driving Tundra along the Alcan. The window to repair roads up here is short -- maybe May to October, if the weather holds. Dust is one of the many challenges driving here -- along with rocks kicked up by vehicles that can do a number on windshields. As of September 27, I've dodged THAT bullet. 

A closeup of one of the many glaciers on the Yukon's mountains. 

On the evening of the 17th I "boondocked", staying at a large pullout near an overpass on the Alcan. It bordered a very picturesque creek. And had a lot of flying insects.

At the boondocking site, near sundown. 

As I've mentioned in an earlier post, I'd brought an arsenal of bug repellents to ward off the hordes of insects. Here's the one that worked best for me, and it's DEET-free -- a Thermacell device. You simply turn it on, which lights up the butane cartridge that in turn heats up a mat that gives off an odor that keeps the bugs away, up to an area of 15 square feet. I tested it out by walking around the boondocking site with it, and I could tell that the insects stayed away. It's worked the few times since then that I've used it. 

The next day, I woke up and saw this brilliant sunrise, with the bonus of a solar pillar, which I'd seen on 3 different occasions at Faranuf. I took it as a good omen for entering Alaska that day...

ALASKA! Surprisingly, I was the only vehicle at the border station. The guard on duty asked what "FARANUF" meant, so we chatted for a bit since there were no other cars behind me. I found out that he had previously been stationed at Yuma. When he asked me if I carried any fruits or vegetables that I'd bought in Canada, I showed him the bag of baby cut carrots I was munching on. He smiled -- yes, border guards actually do that on occasion!  

When visiting Alaska you can, at least in theory, spend the night pretty much anywhere -- "Nobody's going to tell ME where I can or can't stay!" That's the Alaskan way of dealing with "rules". I make it a habit of stopping at rest stops, so I can be sure that the trailer is still hitched up right and that nothing has come loose. It was at the first rest stop in Alaska that I saw this display. I have been warned, and I could care less if the "insect vampires" were part of the food chain. I wasn't going to be a part of THEIR food chain... 

I took the Alcan up to Tok, then turned west onto the Tok Cutoff. The Cutoff was in pretty bad shape. If it wasn't frost heaves, then it was patches of gravel, or cracks in the road. But the scenery along the way provided some compensation -- that is, when you could take your eyes off the road. 

At the town of Glennallen, I took the Glenn Highway, which would eventually take me to Palmer and Anchorage. But as this was still my first day in Alaska, it was getting late, so I turned onto the road to Lake Louise, which had a campground. The road climbed up to the top of a hill, where I looked into the rear-view mirror and saw -- 

It's something you can't see from the highway -- massive Tazlina Glacier, with the mountains rising about the clouds. I doubled back into a pullout and took the photo. I'd stay at that same pullout a month later on my way out to Alaska. It made a great boondocking spot, with amazing views. 

After going 17 miles on the Lake Louise Road, rising and falling over frost heaves that were like an E-ticket ride in Disneyland without the fun, I finally arrived at the campground, and stayed there for 5 days. I spent my 60th birthday (August 20) there, and since I was able to receive 4G coverage through my WiFi hotspot device, I received over 200 birthday wishes from my friends on Facebook. Thanks once again everybody!  And I never thought I'd spend a birthday in Alaska...

One of the reasons I stayed for 5 nights at Lake Louise was because, according to the weather sites on the Internet, it was raining cats and dogs in Anchorage, my next stop. But those same weather gurus said it was raining at Lake Louise, or there was at least a 70% chance it would -- and it never did. So, since I kept Tundra hitched to Discovery because the site wasn't level, so I would have had a hard time hitching and unhitching them, I did some walking. Here's Lake Louise -- 

And these are some of the cracks and rollercoaster rides on the road that I had to negotiate very carefully. I'd read on a display that the original road, built by the Army after WWII, ran straight, but the army forgot about the permafrost underneath, so the road ended up in mud. Now the road weaves, as it goes from one hard base of rock to the next, which provides it with a firmer foundation. Though, judging from the state the road is in today, not as firm as one would want. 

 Not only do you have to deal with frost heaves, but also gravel or dirt sections of the road. Though at least there are markers to give you some warning that things ahead aren't as they should be. 

And -- looky here, a birthday present seemingly from above! I needed a pair of heavy gloves, and I got my birthday wish when I found this pair on the road.  Though they smelled -- awful. I kept them in the back of the truck so they wouldn't stink things up until I was able to wash them. But it's been over a month now since I found them, and used them only once. But I'm glad they're on hand, so to speak, just in case. 

Gee, I'm only up to August 22. But Alaska was that way; there's so much to see....