Meandering the Blue Highways

Hoopetedoodle : Klamath River & Basin, the Lost Coast, Boonville

Thu, 07 Sep 2023 02:37:00 +0200

Sometimes one of us—usually Marilyn—decides to delve into the whys and wherefores of places we’ve been. In Steinbeck’s Sweet Thursday, Mack calls this “hooptedoodle” and says it does not belong in the story proper (quote in sidebar).

Herewith, some hooopetedoodle Marilyn has been investigating: the Klamath Basin, the Lost Coast, Boonville.

Hooptedoodle locations in red & blue.

Klamath River & Basin

Klamath River (photo, Matt Baun/USFWS).

On our fall 2021 trip we camped at Lava Beds National Monument in the Southern Cascade Mountains in northeastern California. We were just south of the Tule Lake National Wildlife Refuge, the town of Tulelake, and the Oregon border. Lava Beds sits on the slightly sloped side of Medicine Lake Volcano, a shield volcano, at around 4,000 feet in high desert.

Lava Beds National Monument campsite, Oct 2021. It was cold! Two wildfires in recent years had burned the majority of the monument.

From Lava Beds, we passed through Klamath Falls, named for the Klamath River spilling over falls as it rolls through town. Toward the end of our trip, we crossed the Klamath River again, on US 101 near its mouth on the Pacific.

Klamath River Upper & Lower Basins are in darker green.

The Klamath has been called a "river upside down." Most rivers begin in mountain wilderness and flow toward urban centers, but the Klamath flows from an urban/agricultural high desert area into mountains and through rainforest on its 260-mile meander to the Pacific Ocean.

Klamath River (photo, Anne Murveit, KRRC).

Native American tribes and wildlife have inhabited and sustained themselves by the rivers, lakes, marshes, and wetlands of the 12,000-square-mile Klamath River Basin for thousands of years. The Modoc plied Tule Lake, then one of the largest in the basin, in dugout canoes carved from logs and canoes constructed of bundles of tule stalks.

Modoc dugout canoe of Jennie Clinton, the last survivor of the Modoc War (photo, Lava Beds Visitor Center).

White settlers began to arrive in the Klamath Basin in the late 1870s, looking to use the land for livestock and agriculture. To them, this necessitated forcing out Native Americans, which led to the Modoc War. A mere 53 Modoc warriors and their families, led by Modoc Chief Captain Jack, maintained a 5-month-long standoff with 650 US soldiers. Ultimately, Captain Jack was "tried" and hanged, and the remaining Modoc were forced onto arid land in Oklahoma. Survivors were not permitted to return to the Klamath Basin until 1909. As one so often asks when looking at US history, why did a people need permission to return to their own lands?

Modern-day Modoc canoe built in the traditional manner of bundling tule stalks (photo, Lava Beds Visitor Center).

In 1902, to entice more settlers to the Klamath Basin, the US government created the Reclamation Service (today the Bureau of Reclamation) to “reclaim” land for farming, i.e., drain lakes and wetlands and direct water via canals, tunnels, levees, and dams. In 1906, the USRC began the Klamath Basin Project. The first 2 of an eventual 6 dams to store and control water were built on the Klamath River in 1918 and 1921.

Copco 1, the 1st dam built on the Klamath River, in 1918 (photo, Molly Peterson, KQED).

After both world wars, homesteading was further encouraged through a lottery. Each winning veteran received a plot of land in the Tule Lake Basin.

Tule Lake National Monument, the former Japanese-American Internment Camp of World War II, today.

During World War II, Tule Lake Internment Camp for Japanese-Americans was thrown up on the east side of the lake bottom. After the WWII lottery, much of the camp, including the cemetery, was bulldozed for more housing, farmland, and an airstrip, without concern for the camp's historical importance and lessons.

Tule Lake National Wildlife Refuge.

About 80 percent of migratory birds on the Pacific Flyway stop in the Klamath Basin, a fact that was ignored when the Klamath Project was begun. Once cognizant of this, the government created Lower Klamath Lake National Wildlife Refuge in 1908, Clear Lake NWR in 1911, Upper Klamath NWR and Tule Lake NWR in 1928. By that time, Tule Lake had been reduced from 100,000 acres to 13,000. Klamath Marsh NWR in 1958 and Bear Valley NWR in 1978 completed the Klamath Basin National Wildlife Refuge Complex.

Klamath Basin National Wildlife Refuge Complex.

In the wake of the 2001 drought, conflict increased among tribes, farmers, fishermen, local governments, and ecologists over use of the Klamath River. For Native Americans, not only is the Klamath Basin their home, livelihood, and transportation, but it is essential to their culture.

Karuk tribal members use traditional dip nets to catch salmon at Ishi Pishi Falls on the mid-Klamath River (photo, Karuk Tribe Fisheries Department).

In 2002, to protect salmon, water for irrigation was curtailed. Later, to appease farmers, water was restored. The sudden rush of water led to the death of tens of thousands of salmon, both adults swimming upriver to spawn and juveniles swimming downriver to the ocean.

Salmon swimming upstream in Klamath River to spawn (photo, Mid-Klamath Watershed Council).

In 2010, after years of wrangling, tribes, farmers, fishermen, and conservationists signed two water rights agreements. Included was a planned study by the Department of the Interior on the removal of four dams on the Klamath. The plan was not officially agreed to until 2016, with removal to be completed by 2020. That did not happen, due to questions about liability and cost overruns raised by US regulators.

Removal of Copco No 2 Dam from Klamath River, July 2023 (photo, Shane Anderson, Swiftwater Films).

Conflict again intensified in 2021, due to dam removal being delayed and another drought showing no end in sight. These issues were finally resolved by an infusion of funds from California, Oregon, and PacifiCorp, the dams’ operator. In June of 2023, removal of the first dam, Copco No 2, began, with a projected completion date of summer 2024 for the removal of all four dams.

"Kamath Basin Dam Removal" is an excellent summary of the history of conflict, agreement, progress, and resolution in the restoration the Klamath River.

Klamath River viewed from remains of Douglas Memorial Bridge upstream from the Pacific Ocean.

Back to our fall 2021 trip. About 40 miles south of the Oregon-California Stateline, traveling US 101, the "Redwood Highway," we crossed the Klamath River Bridge, with its two golden bears flanking each end. There is a story, perhaps a folktale, that in the 1950s some Klamath townsfolk began to paint the bears on the original bridge gold. Each time the highway department removed the paint, the bears turned up gold again soon thereafter. Thus the new bridge was built with gold bears, in deference to tradition.

Bear on approach to Klamath River Bridge, US 101.

A little over a mile downriver, concrete bears flank the remains of the first Klamath River bridge, the Douglas Memorial Bridge.

Concrete bears guard remains of Douglas Memorial Bridge.

A huge log jam slammed through Douglas Memorial Bridge in the Christmas 1964 flood. Likewise, the flood destroyed the town of Klamath. When the town was moved upstream, it was built 1,000 feet higher than the original town.

We much prefer the concrete bears to their gold counterparts.

Until the new bridge was finished upstream, a pile structure made the old bridge functional. Along with a ferry, it carried 101 traffic across the river.

Remains of Douglas Memorial Bridge over Klamath River after Christmas 1964 flood (photo, Greg Rumney).

My attempt to understand the Klamath River Basin is a drastic oversimplification of extremely complicated issues going back at least 150 years. Suffice it to say, we humans need to take the long view more often than not.
At the end of this post are sources I read or skimmed—but a slice of all the information that is available.

Tule Lake National Wildlife Refuge.

The Lost Coast

Lost Coast, 2003...we think: we failed to label our prints--it was pre-phone-camera days.

During a recent purge of our travel files, I was surprised to find a misfiled 2009 San Francisco Chronicle article, "Go now: The Lost Coast." Perhaps I'd saved it because we'd traveled to the Lost Coast in 2003 and have talked of going there again.
More recently, my younger son has camped at Usal Beach on the south end of the Lost Coast.

Usal Beach.

He has the requisite 4WD vehicle for the 6-mile-long dirt road off Hwy 1 from near Rockport to Usal.

Beginning of 4WD Road from Hwy 1 to Usal Beach at southern end of Lost Coast.

Why is this section of California coastline named the Lost Coast? It's often said the label derives from California's famous coast-hugging Hwy 1 turning inland where this section of coastline begins, rather than continuing along the cliffs overlooking the Pacific.

The construction of the 656 miles of Hwy 1 from Dana Point to Leggett took place in stages, beginning in 1911 with a locally funded stretch between Santa Barbara and Ventura. It was completed in 1937, with the except of the final section from Rockport to Leggett. It was a road of sorts but did not receive the Hwy 1 designation until 1957. The new label brought much-needed improvements to culverts and bridges along this section of highway.

At Leggett, Hwy 1 meets US 101. About 90 miles north, near Eureka, 101 picks up the coast again. The road does not, however, change back to Hwy 1, instead remaining US 101.

It's the area west of 101 between Leggett and Eureka that is known as the "Lost Coast." Articles such as "Paper Highways: California State Route 1 through the Lost Coast (Modern State Route 211," detail the vicissitudes of Hwy 1 on the Lost Coast. As late as 2005, the Caltrans State Map continued to show Hwy 1 on the Lost Coast as part of unbuilt Hwy 211. There are many conjectures as to why the route was never completed: (a) it would have been next in line after the challenges of Big Sur, when the country was on the verge of joining WWI; (b) it wasn’t a priority after WWII, when the interstate highway system was birthed; (c) the decline of redwood logging meant the end of logging interests seeking an easier route to 101; (d) beginning in the 1970s environmental concerns began to take hold, which led in 1972 to the creation of the California Coastal Commission.

Lost Coast (map, Janet Young).

More than anything, building Hwy 1 along the Lost Coast would require excavating mountains that climb nearly straight up to 4,000 feet and that are prone to slides. Daunting, to say the least.

But is the lack of Hwy 1 the reason this area of coastline became known as the "Lost Coast"? A little history.
Native Americans of course long inhabited the area by the time white settlers began to arrive in the area of Shelter Cove in the 1850s, in search of grazing land for cattle. By the 1880s, Shelter Cove had become a popular vacation spot, with folks arriving by wagon or steamship. Along with livestock and tourism, around 1925, fishing became a major industry. A wharf and freight buildings were constructed to process and ship fish. Another local industry was the logging of tan oak bark, which was liquefied to a syrupy consistency and shipped in barrels for use in tanneries.

Lost Coast, 2003...we think.

Only about 15 years after becoming a major industry, in the late 1930s, the San Francisco Fish Company ceased operations in Shelter Cove. The wharf subsequently fell into disrepair. With no shipping facilities, other industries declined. A decrease in population followed. This series of events leading to an exodus of those who'd lost their livelihood, according to Mario Machi in his book Gem of the Lost Coast, is the real reason the area became known as the Lost Coast.

Memorial to Mario Machi (photo Karen Key, April 2007).

Fishermen in San Francisco, brothers Mario, Tony, and Babe Machi spent summers in the 1930s fishing in Shelter Cove. During World War II, the Coast Guard had a base in Shelter Cove as part of Coastal Defense. Mario Machi fought overseas, was captured, forced on the Bata’an Death March, and imprisoned. He would later say that memories of Shelter Cove helped keep him alive. After the war, he worked as a teacher and school bus driver to make money to buy land in Shelter Cove.

Dock in Shelter Cove, 2003 (we think).

The Machi brothers eventually did move to Shelter Cove, where they operated the marina and a hotel. They are credited with helping to revive the town. Today Shelter Cove has about 700 residents. The area is largely a vacation and second-home destination, with an airstrip to facilitate travel.

Shelter Cove today.

Back to our 2003 trip. We drove north on Hwy 1 from Bodega Bay, where Marilyn's parents had retired. While pumping gas in Garberville, a few miles north of Leggett, Doug noticed a sign for the Lost Coast. In a quick consult we decided, Why not? and were off on another adventure.

Lost Coast, 2003...we think.

A 2019 NY Times article describes the road to Shelter Cove as “harrowing.” Traveling in our VW bus, we found it only challenging, though it did take a while to reach Shelter Cove.

Our 2003 route on the Lost Coast.

After poking around Shelter Cove, we drove back Shelter Cove Rd to Thornhill. There, we turned north toward Honeydew, picked up Mattole Rd, and at Lighthouse Rd turned west for Punta Gorda Lighthouse. Put into operation in 1912, the lighthouse was used by the Coast Guard during WWII. A lighted buoy eventually replaced the lighthouse, which was turned over to the BLM in 1951.

Doug recalls a photo of us at Punta Gorda, but unfortunately we’ve been unable to locate it.

Cape Mendocino Lighthouse, several miles to the north, predated Punta Gorda, starting operation in 1868. Both ships and lighthouse keepers faced treacherous conditions from frequent storms and earthquakes. The Coast Guard ran the lighthouse during WWII, after which it was automated. Later, a beacon was placed on a nearby cliff, where it operated until 2013. In 1998, the lighthouse was moved to Shelter Cove.

Cape Mendocino Lighthouse in original location.

Back on Mattole Rd, we drove north to Ferndale, a Victorian town reminiscent of Mendocino. Then it was back to 101 and continuing our trip north.

Ferndale, at northern end of Lost Coast.

We were headed home in November 2021, at the end of a 6-week meander. As we approached Leggett, Doug said, "101 or 1?" My quick response, "1!" and we were off down the 14 miles of two-lane-no-shoulders road that winds down along the edges of forested river canyons like a drunk cow. This is decidedly not one of Doug’s favorite drives, especially not on a dark and stormy night heading downhill from Leggett to the coast, as we'd done on a previous trip.

This is what Hwy 1 from Leggett to the coast does for mile after mile. Strong stomach helpful.

But the Pacific Coast's glorious views are the reward for taking this route, and in 2021, we stopped in a turn-out to try to take it all in.

The reward for driving Hwy 1 from Leggett to the coast.

Nevertheless, after a few minutes of enjoying the views, Doug said he would never, ever do that road again. Period.

Hwy 1 concedes to the Lost Coast (our Promaster on the right).

Doug did, however, try to get to the Lost Coast again, in 2022. Driving home in the VW from Oregon, with a new transmission and an added limited slip (now both rear wheels would work together), he turned off 101 at Fernbridge. He found a dirt road that led to Shelter Cove, but recent rains and a sign warning against traveling it made him think otherwise. He returned to 101, promising himself to return soon.
The closest we've been to the Lost Coast otherwise is dinner at the Lost Coast Brewery in Eureka.

Boonville

We also passed through Boonville on our way home in fall 2021. A pleasant memory of morning coffee in sun-dappled shade, along with my son’s camping and mountain biking in the area, piqued my interest in the town again.

Downtown Boonville.

   Located in the Anderson Valley, Boonville began in 1862 as the Corners, then Kendall’s City. When a Mr. Boone bought a local hotel, he donated his name to the town.
   In around the 1870s, a new language grew among the residents of the isolated farming and logging community. "Boontling" is said to be a combination of English, Scottish Gaelic, Irish, Spanish, Pomoan—the language of the Pomo Tribe, the original inhabitants of the area—and creativity.
The websites of the Anderson Valley Museum, Anderson Valley Brewing Company, the Paris Review, and others recount the history of Boontling and contain Boontling glossaries. A few examples:
   Boont: Boonville
   harp: to speak Boontling
   gorm: food, to eat
   frattey: wine
   jape: to drive a car
   Poleeko: Philo, a town near Boonville

Anderson Valley Brewing Company pale ale "Poleeko," Boontling for Philo, a nearby town.

There are a number of theories as to the origins of Boontling, all involving a desire for secret conversations: children wanting to prevent their parents from understanding what they were saying; women wanting to gossip in private while working the hop fields; men wanting to speak about topics such as sex—concerning which there are a rather large number of words in the dialect.

Hop pickers in burlap sacks to protect their clothing (photo, Anderson Valley Historical Society).

On the practical side, WWI soldiers were said to have used Boontling to get messages home past censors, and sports teams used it to confuse their opponents. Boontling was once taught in the local school. Some words have entered the popular culture, and Boontling language and history are preserved in print, but with Boonville’s current population at around 1,000, only about 12 of whom actively speak Boontling, the language is at risk of disappearing as an oral tradition.

"Hobneelch'n"—Dance Party—Hoppy Saison Ale (photo, Josh Edelson, DailyMail.com).

Besides Boontling, Boonville is known today for wineries, the Mendocino County Fair and Apple Show, including sheep dog trials, the Sierra Nevada World Music Festival, and the Boonville Beer Festival.

Timbre corrals her sheep at Mendocino County Fair Sheep Dog Trials (photo, Anne Wernikoff, KQED).

Well, that’s enough hoopetedoodle for now. Bahl’ hornin’! Cheers!

* * * * *

A few Klamath River Basin sources
Andrews, Jessica Cejnar. "Klamath River Dam Removal Project Commences; KRRC Says Construction Crews Will Have Copco No. 2 Out In September." Wild Rivers Outpost, June 23, 2023. wildrivers.lostcoastoutpost.com/2023/jun/23/klamath-river-dam-removal-project-commences-krrc-s/

"Case Study: Klamath Basin." National Geographic. education.nationalgeographic.org/resource/case-study-klamath-basin/

Fisher, Konrad. "The Klamath River’s advocates succeed on their second try with new agreement for largest-ever dam removal." Waterkeeper. Water Alliance, Vol 13, Issue 1, Winter 2001. waterkeeper.org/magazines/volume-13-issue-1/klamath-river-dam-removal/
https://education.nationalgeographic.org/resource/case-study-klamath-basin/

Graber, Brian. “Five Key Lessons as World’s Biggest Dam Removal Project Will Soon Begin on the Klamath River.” American Rivers, Nov 17, 2022.
americanrivers.org/2022/11/five-key-lessons-as-worlds-biggest-dam-removal-project-will-soon-begin-on-the-klamath-river/#:~:text=PacifiCorp%20originally%20agreed%20in%20principle,River%20Renewal%20Corporation%20(KRRC).

Henshaw, Melanie. “Unnatural conflict in Klamath Basin: Conflicting interests in ongoing Klamath Basin water crisis forces difficult choices.” Street Roots, Feb 1, 2023. streetroots.org/news/2023/02/01/conflict-klamath-basin

"Klamath Basin." Wikipedia. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Klamath_Basin

"Klamath Basin Dam Removal: 2001–2024." sustainablenorthwest.org/klamath-basin-dam-removal-history

"Klamath Basin National Wildlife Refuges." oregonwild.org/waters/klamath/refuges

"Klamath River." American Rivers. https://www.americanrivers.org/river/klamath-river/

"Klamath River Basin." Water Education Foundation. watereducation.org/aquapedia/klamath-river-basin

Most, Stephen. "Klamath Basin Project (1906)." oregonencyclopedia.org/articles/klamath_basin_project_1906_/

Peterson, Molly. "Removal of Klamath Dams Would Be Largest River Restoration in U.S. History." Oct 24, 2016.
kqed.org/news/11133820/removal-of-klamath-dams-would-be-largest-river-restoration-in-u-s-history

"Places We Protect: Lower Klamath Basin, California." The Nature Conservancy. nature.org/en-us/get-involved/how-to-help/places-we-protect/lower-klamath-basin/

"Reclaiming the Klamath." Earth Justice, Nov 23, 2020. earthjustice.org/feature/klamath-salmon-yurok-tribe

Ryner, Russ."Reuniting a River." National Geographic, Dec 2008. people.wou.edu/~taylors/g473/NGS_klamath_Dec_2008.pdf

"The Klamath River." oregonwild.org/waters/klamath/the-klamath-river

Alaska & Canada 2022: Doug's Last Meander

Sun, 16 Jul 2023 00:22:00 +0200

August 9-September 9, 2022

We left Doug in the previous post taking pictures of Marilyn's plane as it took off from Skagway, Alaska. A new chapter begins with Doug smiling: he gets to drive the van home!
Now, a straight shot from Skagway to Visalia is about 2,570 miles and 45 hours of driving. It would look like this:

The quickest route from Skagway, AK to Visalia, CA.

But knowing Doug, it is obvious he would rather take a route that would allow him to meander hither and yon and see folks, critters, countryside, and towns, while driving 95ish hours and 5,586ish miles. By the time he found home the route looked more or less like this:

Doug's route from Skagway, AK to Visalia, CA.

Doug recounts his travels: "Just before Marilyn flew out, my daughter in Seattle texted that the three of them had Covid. Plus my son, who lives in Bellingham, was off to a conference. So what to do with two unexpected weeks but meander: go slow, enjoy getting to know new country, and visit a life-long friend! My initial setting was to head southeast on the AlCan, eventual destinations visiting Linda, my childhood friend in Fishtail, MT, then spending time with my kids and grandson in Washington.
"But first, to resupply and shower, so from Skagway, I returned north to Whitehorse. With food in the pantry and a few layers of dirt washed away, I reformulated my first plan:
drive the AlCan to Watson Lake and then take the Cassiar Highway south. It's less traveled and is the only way to reach Hyder, AK, a favorite on past trips.

Camped on a pullout at Simmons Lake along the Cassiar Hwy in BC.

"Halfway down the Cassiar I turned west at Meziadin Junction for Stewart BC, and landlocked Hyder AK. The first treat is seeing Bear Glacier curving down the mountain to Bear River.

Bear Glacier & River along the Yellowtail Hwy en route to Stewart BC/Hyder AK.

"In Stewart BC, I found Rainey Creek Campground. The next day would be bear viewing in Hyder AK."

Doug joined an ad hoc Promaster convention at Rainey Creek Campground in Stewart.

You get to Hyder AK, by going through Stewart BC, thus going from Canada to the US.

Arriving at Hyder, 1 mile from Stewart, BC.

Hyder possesses a sense of humor about itself.

It's a bit frustrating that every time you return from Hyder you have to stop at Canadian Customs before you can finish returning to Stewart.

Canadian Customs returning to Stewart BC, from Hyder AK.

The need for the official border crossing may be linked to a time when Canadians were prone to smuggling cigarettes from Hyder. By the same token, during US Prohibition, Alaskans crossed the street to Stewart (then named Hyder BC) to buy liquor, then walked home again. But the US didn't make the border crossing official, and the Alaskans have a bit of fun with their Canadian neighbors.

The ominious-looking blockhouse was constructed by the Army Corps of Engineers as a storehouse in 1896.

You might cross the border 10 times a day, and by the 3rd time, Canadian Customs Agents probably recognize your vehicle, if not you. Doesn't matter. After a few trips through, you can answer the questions before they are asked. Fortunately, the agents are polite and understanding.

You might ask, Why would you go to Hyder 10 times a day? Three reasons:
1) Salmon Glacier down a gnarly dirt road (if it's not fogged in).

You can drive to the toe of Salmon Glacier, though you may not see it.

Signs such this make me realize there are all kinds of questions I haven't even thought to ask, like, Just what is a glacier? From the sign: a large slow moving river of ice, formed from compacted layers of snow. Glacier ice is the largest reservoir of fresh water on Earth and second only to oceans as the largest reservoir of total water.

And, What makes glaciers move? Gravity, internal deformation, and basal slip. The latter happens when ice slides over the bed on a film of water.
Salmon Glacier is the 5th largest glacier in North America and is located in BC, bordering Alaska. From 4,300 feet it descends to sea level. The toe, also called glacier snout and terminus, is the lowest end of a glacier. Kettles are the small ponds below the toe, formed when blocks of ice break off a glacier and create a depression. Minerals suspended in the water create the color.

An old picture of a 20-horse train ascending Salmon Glacier.

Next on reasons to cross the road from Stewart to Hyder:
2) Fish Creek Viewing Platform. You never know if the salmon are running on a given day or time, so you keep returning to see if the grizzlies and black bears are fishing.

Fish Creek Viewing Platform, Tongass National Forest, Hyder AK.

Salmon swimming upstream to spawn.

Bear fishing: Doug's first visit to Stewart/Hyder, 2017.

Shoulder hump identifies this as a grizzly, 2022.

And another reason to go to Hyder:
3) The Bus, where you can dine on fresh halibut cooked and served by the owner from her old bus converted to a kitchen. She's likely to put you in your place, as well.

Doug picks up the tale: "After a day of viewing a grizzly feasting on salmon and a great dinner of fresh halibut at the Bus, it was time to leave Stewart/Hyder. A quick shower in the morning, and I headed east, which, absent a boat or plane, is the only way you can go from there.

Doug's route from Hyder AK/Stewart BC to US/CA border in Saskatchewan.

"That afternoon I arrived at the Native Net Fishing Grounds on the Buckley River near Witset, BC, another spot with fond memories. It's a good thing I stopped again, as despite a visit in 2017 alone and in 2019 with Marilyn, we've never posted about it! Life and the next trip can interfere with blogging...

First Peoples Net Fishing site on Buckley River near Witset, BC.

Native fishermen were amazing--climbing down steep cliffs & hanging out over the fast-moving river to net salmon swimming upstream. And yes, the salmon do get over that waterfall.

Net Fishing, 2017.

"In 2017, I was lucky to be able to buy fresh-caught salmon and set up camp near the fishing grounds.

Buying freshly netted salmon..

Another find, a free campground along the river above the First Peoples Net Fishing Grounds.

"Not long after I'd bought salmon, a young couple arrived who had biked from California to Alaska and were heading to Ontario, Canada.

Jose, from Chile, & Kate, from Ontario CA.

"Delighted to have companions, I offered to share camp chairs and the salmon. Then Jose informed me that Kate is a gourmet chef—talk about being lucky! Kate took over meal prep.

Kate preparing dinner for us.

"I admit, the salmon was definitely better than what I'd prepared a couple nights before.

My delightful companions for the evening.

Net fishing from both sides of the river, 2019.

The next day took Doug through Prince George and northeast toward Dawson Creek, which is Mile 0 of the Alaska Hwy (the AlCan).

Boondocking off the road at Azouzetta Lake, near Pine LeMoray Provincial Park, en route to Dawson Creek, BC.

Though it was a bit out of the way, Doug wanted to go to Dawson Creek because, "I wished to re-visit Faking Sanity Bookstore one more time. If ever in Dawson Creek, please visit for great coffee and a wonderful, helpful staff.

Dawson Creek: British Columbia, Canada, & Alberta flags.

"With a new complement of books, I was finally off to Fishtail, MT, to visit Linda...except when I stopped for gas and looked at my trusty AAA map, I saw that I could go just a bit further east and visit the province of Saskatchewan and, even better, the town of Saskatoon. Why, you ask? Silly question: I liked the sound of the names! Oh, and further justification, the name of our blog is Meandering the Blue Highways, isn't it?"
The shortest route from the gas station to Saskatoon would be about 11 hrs/680 miles. Doug's route turned out to be 12 hrs/718 miles. Pretty close.

To continue Doug's tale: "Not far from Dawson Creek, I crossed into Alberta, and things got exciting.

BC/Alberta border, 10 miles from Dawson Creek, BC.

"Back in the Yukon, it wasn't until the last 20 miles of our 530-mile-roundtrip to the Arctic Circle on the dirt Dempster Hwy that a rock found the van windshield and left a lovely spider on the driver's side.

Windshield spider from the Dempster Hwy.

"We'd added another 700 miles of dirt roads after that, with nary a meeting of rock and windshield. But in less than 2 hours on Alberta's paved roads, what might as well have been a 90-mph baseball definitely got my attention when it hit the passenger side of the windshield."

1st Alberta rock & windshield collision.

Before the afternoon was out, the windshield had also acquired a bird flying in front of Doug.

2nd Alberta rock & windshield collision.

At the end of the road for the day was a peaceful campsite and wonderful shower on Lesser Slave Lake. The name "Slave" comes from the Cree name for the Dene, whom the Cree sometimes enslaved. The Cree call the lake "Beaver Lake," while the Dene ("the People," what Athabascans call themselves) know it as "Beaver People Were Over There, Living There."

Sunset over Lesser Slave Lake.

The Athabascan people are in large part identified by their language, which is spoken not only in Alaska and Canada, but also on the Pacific Coast and in the American Southwest.

Seagulls attentive for any stray fish from fishing boats.

The next day Doug discovered the town of Athbasca and Athbasca University. The university began in 1970 as a traditional campus-based institution, but in 1972, it converted to an open, distance-learning university.

An open, distance-learning university.

   Doug spent that night at a great flat spot off the road near Athabasca and in the morning found a place for a delicious breakfast and good conversation. Then it was on to Saskatchewan!
   The shortest route from Athabasca is about 6 hrs/382 mi. But Doug needed to see Edmonton, so the route would be a bit—or a lot—longer, as who knew what there was beyond Edmonton?
   There aren't any photos of Edmonton, but Doug did arrive in Waskatenau on the last day of Fair Days.

Doug picks up the tale: "The Waskatenau parade was similar to the fair parades I enjoyed growing up in the rural San Joaquin Valley of Central California.

A "horse" pulls what appears to be an old alfalfa dump rake.

"Continuing south, I came to Bruce and wondered how our friend Bruce came to have a town in Alberta named after him.

"Saskatoon was getting closer, 4 hr/252 mi from Bruce, maybe..."

Doug got a picture of the sign marking the Alberta/Saskatchewan border, but no pics of Saskatoon.

According to a government website, the province of Saskatchewan is the world's largest exporter of lentils, peas, durum wheat, mustard seed, canola, flaxseed, and oats, as well as being second in cattle-production in Canada.

A combine after harvesting wheat.

Saskatoon's original inhabitants were of course First Nations People. Its name derives from a Cree word referring to the sweet, purple berry that grows in the area.

Saskatoon sits on both sides of the South Saskatoon River.

Doug continues: "I had no idea what to expect but found Saskatoon to be a modern, vibrant city. Unfortunately, the traffic was not conducive to stopping, so I headed south and found another river to camp on. In the morning, I continued south for the US border and Montana."

Antelope herd.

Though already in the previous Saskatchewan post, Doug loves these place names. Who was Lilly?

South of Saskatoon, Doug saw an old run-down house in a field. "Whenever I see such a place, the Kate Wolf song, 'Carolina Pines' comes to mind. I often sing the song and make up stories about the history of a home. With the many abandoned homesteads in the area, I made up a lot of stories."

A large abandoned home near the border. Oh, the stories it could tell!

   At 4:30, Doug learned, to his amazement, that the Monchy Border Crossing is only open M-F, 9-5. At least he was there on a weekday, but he was still an hour from the border. Fortunately, in the small town of Val Marie, he found a very clean city camp with showers.
   The next morning, he arrived at the border and soon was back in the US. Next stop: our friend Linda's in Fishtail, MT.
   Fishtail, population about 70, is on the banks of the West Rosebud River in the foothills of the Beartooth Mountains.

In case you didn't understand the name of the town: Fishtail. Next to the Library that hosts the fishtail is the Fishtail General Store.

The Fishtail School.

Doug says of his three days in Fishtail, "I enjoyed every minute. Linda and her friends were just amazing."

Linda & Newman at home.

Linda in front of her friends' log home.

Quilt Shop in Absarokee, near Fishtail. Apparently Doug wants Marilyn to spend money when she gets there.

"After a nice visit at Linda's it was time to head west for my kids and grandson in Washington.

Did I take a wrong turn??? Montana towns off I-90.

The final leg of Doug's meander home.

"The plan was to drive to Idaho and stop for the night, but temperatures continued to hover around 95, so I drove across Idaho and kept on going.

Sunset near Creston WA.

Thunderstorms on the horizon & still 95 degrees.

"As I approached the Grand Coulee Dam on the Columbia River in Washington, it finally had cooled to the low 80s.

Sunset.

"I admit, that was probably the hardest drive of the entire trip: 600 miles of freeway driving, which I do not enjoy.

Spring Canyon Campground.

"There are few places to just pull over for the night, so it was a campground: Spring Canyon Campground on Lake Roosevelt, just out of Electric City WA."

Lake Roosevelt, on the Columbia River.

Grand Coulee Dam forms Lake Roosevelt on the Columbia River. The lake extends 152 miles northeast, almost to the Canadian border. We have camped several times to the north at Haag Cove, just off the North Cascades Hwy, and taken the free Colville Confederated Tribes Inchellium-Gifford Ferry across the lake.

Grand Coulee Dam.

Grand Coulee was constructed from 1931-'36, and, like many dams in the Western US provides power, water storage, and recreation. The dam stands about 550 feet tall, about the height of the Washington Monument and the Space Needle and approaching twice the height of the Statue of Liberty.

Electric City, on the left, sits below Grand Coulee Dam.

The next morning Doug found a coffee shop in Electric City, which sits below Grand Coulee Dam, before heading northwest for one of our favorite drives, the North Cascades Highway, Hwy 20, through North Cascades National Park.

Driving across the Columbia River one final time.

Looking upriver.

Doug's route from Grand Coulee Dam & across North Cascades Hwy, which he took across WA.

Osprey Nest on the top of a pole.

The Osprey.

A ltitle west of the Grand Coulee Dam, Doug spotted a group of kayakers on the Columbia River.

Kayakers on Columbia River.

Just as it does from its source in Canada, from Grand Coulee, the Columbia flows north awhile before turning and heading south again, eventually turning west and forming the Washington-Oregon state line.

In Twisp, Doug spotted another quilt shop for Marilyn, The Quilting Hive.

Camped at a wide spot on a river, off Highway 20 near Mazama.

The scenery along the N Cascades Hwy is breathtaking.

Skagit River Roadside Park, where Doug camped, near Concrete WA.

After a last night on the road, Doug's 2-week meander through Canada was over and he headed for Bellingham WA, where his son and daughter-in-law live. It was time to give Uncle Robert (aka Conchita), our Promaster van, some much needed TLC. We cannot say enough about the Promaster and the VanWorks out of Fort Collins CO conversion.

TLC for Uncle Robert: washing a few layers of dirt off & an oil change.

A favorite spot in Bellingham, Whatcom Falls Park, about a 3/4-mile walk from my son and daughter-in-law's home.

Heat & drought had greatly reduced the flow in Whatcom Falls & Creek.

Whatcom Creek.

Looking toward Lummi Island from Bellingham Marina.

"After a few days enjoying Bellingham," Doug continues, "it was down to Seattle to see my daughter, her husband, and their son. Need I say, having achieved Grandfather status 10 months earlier, the visit was very special. As I pushed the stroller, I soon realized how 'not flat' Seattle is and how out of shape I had become. But for this 76 year old it was all grand. "Leaving children and grandchildren is always a very reluctant departure, but after a few grand days in Seattle, it was time to leave and head home.

"The final leg was direct, I-5 south. On September 9, I pulled into our driveway. Other than a windshield decorated with at least 4 rock impacts, the 3 months had gone smoothly. The van and I had driven 12,600 miles, 1,400 of them on dirt roads, and had averaged an amazing 19.2 mpg. Another grand road trip was history."
Stay tuned for our next adventures! As always, thank you for following us, and we love reading your comments on our travels.

Vancouver Island, or Plans Gone Astray, and It Was Great!: October-November 2015

Fri, 23 Jun 2023 02:18:00 +0200

Recently Marilyn's son was looking for our post on Vancouver Island, as they are planning a trip there this summer. I assured him it was there, but I looked backward and forward through the blog and couldn’t find it either. We loved that trip in the fall of 2015—how could we not have written about it???

Vancouver Island: 12,400 sq mi. Canada's 11th largest island. 555 miles of roads.

Doug wrote about planning for the trip and making his way north to Seattle. He even proposed a title for the Vancouver Island post in the Seattle post. But we never got around to writing the post. We're thinking of going back there ourselves, so why not a belated revisit?

Our route from Seattle to Vancouver Is to the Olympic Peninsula.

After our friends' October wedding in Edmonds, WA (Doug was in the wedding party), we visited friends in White Rock, BC, then took the ferry from Horseshoe Bay north of Vancouver to Nanaimo on Vancouver Island. Our destination was Tofino on the west side of the island, one of the few towns accessible by road. Well, we came to an intersection with Tofino to the right and Uclulet to the left, and thought, Why not?

Our amazing Island West Resort campsite #1 in Uclulet. Water on 3 sides—perfect!

Evening, Uclulet.

We walked a portion of the Wild Pacific Trail & encountered Gumby!

Love Lock Pole on Wild Pacific Trail.

View from our campsite.

The west coast of Vancouver Island is called the Graveyard of the Pacific, with 100s of shipwrecks recorded. The previous year, we'd camped on North Carolina's Outer Banks, known as the Graveyard of the Atlantic. Ironically, the name Uclulet comes from the name of the First Peoples indigenous to the area and means "people of the safe harbor."

Story of shipwreck of 1905 British ship. Bottom left is the ship's bell, recovered in the 1960s by the Uclulet Wreck Checkers.

Not that we wanted to leave Uclulet, but it was getting to be late fall, so after a couple of days it was time to go where we initially were headed, off to Tofino, the "Surf Capital" of Canada. Tofino claims that it, not Victoria, is the true western end of the Trans-Canada Highway.

As the crow flies, Tofino is 125 mi west of Victoria. By car, it's 196 mi. AND it's on the Pacific.

We camped on MacKenzie Beach at Bella Pacific Campground.

View from our campsite. Right there: a great beach to walk!

So many textures & hues.

Marilyn sorting pictures at the picnic table alas did not lead to a post but no post of the trip.

This was our 2nd trip together in Mz Agnes, the 2003 PleasureWay Ford Traverse Poptop Van (think a VW Westfalia on steroids). In April of that year Doug flew to Maryland to pick her up, and 3 days later she was in our driveway. Mz Agnes replaced the "MRV" ("Marilyn's RV") which we'd bought from a friend in 2014. We'd needed a smoother ride than the VW after Marilyn's back surgery, but the MRV proved much too big and complicated for us.

Our van stable: 2004 PleasureWay Excel TS (the MRV). 2003 PleasureWay Traverse Poptop (Mz Agnes). 1987 VW Westy.

Guess which van we still have?

Doug & his son, Andrew, took the VW to Death Valley in spring 2023.

Since 2019, we've been the happy owners of a 2019 Dodge Promaster 17.5 ft, 136 van. When Mz Agnes died after 60,000 wonderful miles, we sold her to friends, who installed a new engine and have since loved and enjoyed her for many more miles.
Meanwhile, back on the beach in Tofino...

Doug enjoys the picnic assortment his son and daughter-in-law had gifted us.

Even as it was getting cooler many families continued to enjoy the beach.

Doug chatting with a young father finishing up the family sand castle.

Pretty amazing results.

Both Tofino and Uclulet are on peninsulas that jut out into the ocean. Tofino is surrounded by islands. Water taxis crossed back and forth to the First Nations community on a nearby island.

Water taxi headed from First Street Dock to First Nations village across channel.

First Nation people came to Tofino for supplies.

Foggy evening at First Street Dock.

View of Marine West Marina from Jack's pub, where Marilyn had a memorable salad with 3 gigantic, succulent scallops.

Marine West Marina.

Float plane landing in the harbor. Obviously, this got Doug's attention.

A Western Red Cedar nurse log along Tonquin Beach Trail that meandered through the rainforest.

Another nurse log.

Artistic bench along the trail.

Wonderful deck view point.

View from the deck.

Nurse log.

King of the Rainforest.

South end of MacKenzie Beach.

Sunset from our campsite.

How do you say good-bye to beauty like this?

How many times have we written "we left reluctantly"?

Fall colors along Hwy 4 back to the east side of the island.

Doug's entertainment.

Marilyn's entertainment: crochet supply box, which doubled as a foot rest. Those were the most comfy shoes!

Begonias in Port Alberni.

Now off to Victoria to catch the ferry. After such a grand time in nature, visiting a town wasn't in the plans. Besides, we'd been to Victoria before.

But our attitude shifted when we entered town. There was nowhere we had to be, so Marilyn got online and found the James Bay Inn, located on a side street less than a half mile from the main downtown area. It was an older inn, quaint and comfortable.

Our home in Victoria.

We loved the inn—and Victoria—and stayed 3 days.

Parlor next to our room.

Deck off parlor, where Marilyn enjoyed her morning coffee.

The bathroom radiator didn't clang!

Horse-drawn carriages passed outside our window.

The Empress Hotel, which we've visited in the past, though not for afternoon High Tea. We've heard there are other places just as satisfactory & rather less pricey.

Across the harbor from downtown Victoria.

British Columbia Parliament building.

Float plane taxiing in Victoria Harbor.

Irish Times restaurant, where Doug ate his favorite, Shepards' Pie.

Marilyn loved this front yard fence designed to look like a fish with the head on the left and tail on the right (and a tree in between).

Colors of Victoria.

More colors of Victoria.

Waiting for the ferry to Port Angeles, WA, on the Olympic Peninsula.

We took the ferry from Victoria across the Strait of Juan de Fuca, aka Samish Sea, to Port Angeles. Unlike th small flat- bottom ferries that work Puget Sound, this is a sea-going ship—the Strait can get rather rough.
After a couple of days with young friends who had moved to nearby Sequim from Visalia, we spent the next 10 days working our way down the West Coast.

Our route home down the Pacific Coast.

Camped on the beach at Quileute Oceanside Resort on the Quileute Reservation near LaPush, WA.

Quileute Beach & a rather large piece of drift wood.

Black dots are surfers at Quileute Beach.

Nature's log flute.

Quileute Beach: perspective on our place in the cosmos.

Across the Quillayute River from Quileute Beach is Rialto Beach. It's well worth the drive 5 miles upriver to the bridge & 5 miles back downriver to get there.

Rialto Beach.

We headed on down the Washington Coast, next stop Cape Disappointment State Park above the mouth of the Columbia River.

North Head Lighthouse on Cape Disappointment.

Our next stop was Beverly Beach State Park, which Doug often says is his favorite campground on the Oregon Coast. In a short 1/4-mile walk under the 101 bridge, you are at the ocean.

Hwy 101 bridge at sunset from Beverly Beach State Park Campground.

Mz Agnes had the option for electricity (cord on right)—occasionally we do enjoy campground hook-ups.

Doug walking Beverly Beach.

Not far down the cost from Beverly Beach, between Yachts and Florence is Heceta Head Lighthouse. On another coastal trip in fall 2021, we stopped and took the trial up to the lighthouse.

Heceta Head Lighthouse.

One of Marilyn's favorite Oregon Coast Lighthouses is Coquille River, just north of Bandon.

Coquille River Lighthouse.

Marilyn's favorite shot of Coquille River Lighthouse.

Another favorite campground on the Oregon Coast is Humbug Mountain near Port Orford, though the sites closer to the ocean are often closed in winter.

Doug on beach at Humbug Mountain State Park.

Our last Oregon stop was Harris Beach State Park in Brookings, a campground up on a hill with wonderful views of the Pacific—if you can get one of the front row sites.

Mz Agnes enjoying her last Oregon campground of the trip, Harris Beach SP.

Sunset, Harris Beach.

After entering California the next day, we stopped a few miles before Eureka at another favorite spot, Trinidad State Beach, CA.

Trinidad State Beach.

South of Trinidad, 101 turns inland around the Lost Coast. At Leggett, you can continue south on 101 or turn west on 1. On this trip, we turned west, though Doug contends this is one of the windiest roads he's ever driven and definitely not a favorite. The reward is the breathtaking view of the Pacific when you reach the end.

Finally arrived at the Pacific & looking north toward the Lost Coast.

Further down the coast, we stopped at Fort Bragg, where we've often camped at the mouth of the Noyo River.

Pacific Ocean at Fort Bragg.

After we pass Jenner on Highway 1 at the mouth of the Russian River, we start to look for a group of houses on the west side of the road. Each time we go by there seems to be at least one fewer home hanging onto the cliffs at Gleason Beach. After the Pacific got through eroding the cliffs, it continued on to the houses.

Stopping at Gleason Beach to look at foundations, all that remain of former homes.

Looking toward the ocean from a foundation of a home that was standing a few years prior.

By 2021, repairs to Hwy 1 were no longer an option. Since then, a road realignment of up to 400 feet inland and including a new bridge, has been under way at Gleason Beach.
Our final stop of the trip before visiting Marilyn's children was Porto Bodega Marina & RV Park. Marilyn has fond memories of Bodega Bay from her parents living there for about 25 years in retirement.

Fog at Bodega Bay is not unusual.

It's hard to believe our Vancouver Island was 8 years ago, though we've traveled the Pacific Coast northbound and southbound numerous times since then.

Now to ferry to Vancouver Island again.

Alaska & Canada 2022: The Final Weeks, Part 1

Wed, 07 Jun 2023 00:42:00 +0200

July 26-August 9, 2022

After 5 awesome days camped on the Kennicott River across from McCarthy and an overnight at Kenny Lake to do laundry, it was time to head east. First stop: Tok, about 3 hours away.

Well, until we were driving over the Little Tok River, about an hour from Tok, and saw that the campsite under the bridge where we'd camped in 2017 was empty. It seemed like we should fill it, so we did and spent another quiet Alaska night by a rippling stream.

Little Tok River, Alaska

Mz Agnes, Little Tok River, 2017.

Uncle Robert, aka Conchita, Little Tok River 2022.

The AlCan

After breakfast in Tok the next morning, we picked up the AlCan. Its western terminus is at Delta Junction, about 100 miles northwest of Tok. The pavement was horrendous, much worse by far than any stretch of the McCarthy Rd., with large potholes, pavement upheaval due to permafrost, and construction.

Hwy 1, the Alaska Highway, or "AlCan."

We followed many a pilot car on our trip. Where winters are long, a lot of construction is shoved into the short summers.

There was a lot of dirt and gravel and of course...

...dust. We're still not sure we've gotten all the dust out of the van.

Yukon Camping
Due to the road conditions, we found ourselves traveling rather slowly. At Beaver Creek we crossed the border back into the Yukon Territory. Finally we decided to stop for the night at Discovery Yukon RV Park, which sits between two rivers, the White and Koidern. Campground decor consists of old vehicles, equipment from building the AlCan, and other bits and pieces.

Campsite at Discovery Yukon. The awning adds living space, rain or shine.

Discovery Yukon decor. Logging, anyone?

Should you need a motor to go boating on a nearby river or lake...

Outboard motor display close-up.

AlCan Hwy construction equipment.

The website boasts a "Military Vehicle Collection."

We admired this cycling couple we passed them on the AlCan. They later arrived at the our campground, drenched from the pouring rain and no doubt happy to have a tent cabin to dry out in.

At Haines Junction the next day we had a decision to make: go south to Haines and from there via ferry to Skagway or go east to Whitehorse. Though the drive to Haines is spectacular and we loved staying there in 2017, it was at least a 3-hour drive. Since the ferry service from Haines to Skagway was currently iffy, we'd more than likely have to drive the 3 hours back to Haines Junction as well. We opted to forego Haines.

We stopped for the night at Pine Lake Campground, where more flora entertained Marilyn

Bog star (Parnassia palustris). Shark mushroom?

Straight from the Moulin Rouge!

Mushroom down!

In the morning, we continued on to Whitehorse.

"The Yukon dedicates this route to the memory of veterans."

As it had much of the summer, the weather continued to offer a lot of variety of wind, rain, and all kinds of clouds.

As Christopher Robin says, "I don't care what the weather is, as long as I'm out in it."

Whitehorse, Yukon
A few miles south of Whitehorse, we snuggled back into our favorite site in the woods at Pioneer RV Park & Campground.

In the woods & far from the rows of large RVs.

Doug found more mushrooms for Marilyn to play in.

Getting just the right angle on a mushroom.

Coy. Come on in!

I'm bigger than your foot! Where's the party?

We went to our favorite Whitehorse cafe and took another walk along the Yukon River.

Mural across from our favorite Whitehorse cafe.

A very friendly woman suggested we check out the library. We did, then went to investigate a couple of tents at the far end. We were delighted to discover a Native group carving a canoe from a red cedar log.

Canoe is painstickingly manually carved from red cedar log.

Angles have to be perfect.

One of the project directors was Violet Gatensby, a Tinglit from Carcross, whom we'd met in Carcross in 2019, when she was assisting in similarly discovering the canoe in a red cedar log. We talked with her quite awhile about the process. Marilyn follows her on Instagram. She paints, carves, sculpts, makes masks, and is all around very talented. Below is her "Running to the Rivers Edge" mask on display at Vancouver International Airport. Unfortunately, it was not yet on display when Marilyn flew through there en route to Whitehorse in June.

Violet Gatensby, Running to the River's Edge. Top to bottom: bear, human, eagle. Of the 3-D mask she writes, "...a piece to embody the excitement that fish returning to the rivers bring to us. A creature so small and vulnerable can make the biggest creatures run with joy just by their presence."

Carcross, Yukon
From Whitehorse, we drove to Carcross, which we always enjoy. It sits on Bennett Lake, where Klondikers who made it over the Chilkoot Pass with their ton of supplies required by Canada met their next challenge: building a boat out of anything available to try to get to the Yukon River at Whitehorse.

Doug at Bennett Lake

Another red cedar canoe was underway at the Carcross/Tagish First Nation Learning Center.

Totems of the 6 Carcross/Tagish First Nation clans stand in front of the Learning Center.

L-R: Killer Whale, Raven's Children, Wolf, Wood Worm, Frog, Split Tailed Beaver.

Killer Whale, Raven's Children, Wolf, Frog, Split Tailed Beaver.

We camped 2 nights at the Tagish First Nation Campground across from the Carcross airport.

Carcross Airport.

Marilyn's fav pic of herself. Shows off garage drawers, back mosquito screen that rolls all the way down, door pockets she made for shoes & gear.

In the camground, there were more mushrooms for Marilyn!

All aflutter. Just hangin'.

Life is better together. Mushroom Venus Fly Trap?

Skagway & Dyea, Alaska

After 2 days in Carcross we headed further south and back into Alaska, to Skagway and nearby Dyea.

Klondike Hwy to Skagway. Remains of wood mine shaft on left.

Skagway is on the Alaska Panhandle, as are Haines and Hyder, the only 3 towns on the panhandle that you can drive to, and then only by going through Canada. All the other towns on the panhandle and its islands, e.g., Ketchican, Angoon, Petersburg, Yakutat, Sitka, and even the capital, Juneau, can be reached only by boat or plane. A 2022 bill in the state legislature was the latest attempt to move the capital off the Panhandle to Willow, the favored compromise between Fairbanks and Anchorage.

Most of the Alaska Panhandle can only be accessed by boat or plane. The drive between Haines & Skagway is at least 7 hours but beautiful. If you can catch the ferry, it's only 75 minutes, or 40 for the pedestrian-only fast ferry.

The drive from Carcross to Skagway is stunning, with lakes, rivers, waterfalls, ponds, glaciers, and flowered valleys, but the clouds, rain, and fog made for limited vistas this time.

Klondike Hwy, 2022.

Klondike Hwy, 2019.

We arrived in Skagway by 11:00 AM. The usual cruise ships loomed over the town, and their passengers flocked like a giant amoeba to all the shops and restaurants set up just for them. We never have figured out why folks take a cruise to name-a-destination and buy jewelry there.

State Street, Skagway.

Okay, we confess, we did a little shopping, too.

Who doesn't need a bear hat from Alaska for themselves—and all their friends?

Marilyn bought more quilt fabric, though we'd already sent home 2 large flat rate USPS boxes of fabric.

Mural of downtown Skagway & Klondikers climbing Chilkoot Trail out of Dyea.

After a couple of hours in Skagway, we took the Dyea R along the Taiya River the 10 mi/30 min to Dyea.

Rain had beaten up Dyea Rd—it was more mud than gravel in places.

Logs & debris in the flooding river.

The Dyea Flats Municipal Recreation Area campground had also had a rough time. With all the rain and flooding this year, the river had carved large chunks off its banks. We didn't find our 2019 site on the river because it no longer existed!

Our Dyea campsite on the Taiya River in 2019—visiting with fellow campers from Quebec.

Same site in 2023.

Even on previous trips you could tell the Taiya River has no hesitation to erode its banks—trees clung by their roots. Luckily, we found another site close to the river.

Looking from our site toward river bank where sites were washed away.

Marilyn did not even attempt her usual of finding a way to the river, filling a bucket with water and pouring it over her head.

Looking toward Lynn Canal (actually a fjord). Klondikers had to debark about 2 miles from land & slog through the mud flats.

Stubs of pilings, all that remains of the 2-mile-long wharf Klondiker's built to cross the mudflats to Dyea.

Looking toward Dyea townsite & the Chilkoot Pass.

It was rainy & chilly while we were there & impossible to even imagine climbing the steep pass in snow once, let alone the multiple times it took to get your ton of provisions required by Canada to the top.

This is much easier to imagine: Doug reading out of the wind in the gorgeous handmade wool sweater a fellow camper & former Navy nurse gave him in Valdez.

And we spotted a couple of mushrooms enjoying life under the trees.

Wood bridge over neraby West Creek, also running very high. Exploring by vehicle in the area is limited.

Heading back to Skagway on Dyea Rd. one last time.

The road was nearly on the water in places.

Beautiful dyke in rock alongside road.

We spent our final night in Skagway camped in the airport parking lot, as the next morning Marilyn had a 6:00 AM flight to Juneau.

From the airport parking lot our last evening, we watched tour helicopters come in to land like dragonflies alighting one-by-one.

Marilyn taking off from Skagway.

For the young pilot, the flight in a small plane from Skagway to Juneau was a routine short hop. For Marilyn, it was an amazing birds-eye view of Alaska's topography: peaks, valleys, snow, rivers, glaciers.

From Juneau, Marilyn flew to Seattle, then Fresno, then rode home with a friend to Visalia.

It was August 9. We'd been on the road together and living in Uncle Robert, aka Conchita, our 17.5-foot Promaster van, for 7 weeks and 3,300 miles. Of those, 1,400 were on dirt roads. It was 50°F when Marilyn left Alaska and 100°F when she got home.

And Doug? He had more places to go, people to meet, and adventures to be had—it's all in our next post.

Marilyn flew home 8/9 & Doug went on a long meander...

Alaska 2022: Kennicott

Wed, 24 May 2023 01:34:00 +0200

July 22-26, 2022

It's been nearly 10 months, but it feels like yesterday that we were camped at Base Camp Kennicott, at the end of the 60-mile-dirt McCarthy Rd, on the banks of the Kennicott River.

Kennicott Glacier & moraine viewed from our campsite.

Walking back to the campground office from our campsite the first day, we chatted with a young man who turned out to be an employee of St Elias Alpine Guides—employees camp like the rest of us. He encouraged us to take a tour of Kennicott Mill Town with St Elias. Being convinced, we booked a tour at the office for the next day.

Kennicott viewed from our campsite.

In the morning, after first moving to a campsite on the banks of the Kennicott River, we headed across the footbridge to McCarthy.

Footbridge across Kennicott River from Base Camp Kennicott (far end) to McCarthy & Kennicott.

Walking to McCarthy.

It's about a half mile from the footbridge to the McCarthy Museum, housed in the former Copper River and Northwestern Railway Depot. There we turned right on Kennicott Ave/Dan Creek Rd. In 5 minutes we were at the far end of town at the shuttle stop in front of Ma Johnson's Hotel.

We boarded a small shuttle bus for the 5-mile drive to Kennicott. Our congenial driver filled us in on some of the local history and recommended the Kennicott Glacier Lodge for lunch.

Kennicott Train Depot

Thousands of prospectors who debarked at Cordova and Valdez on the Gulf of Alaska in 1898 traveled through this area on their way to the Klondike Gold Rush. Returning from Canada's Yukon Territory, some gave prospecting another try and "discovered" copper here in the Wrangell Mountains in 1899.
Of course, the Ahtna people had for thousands of years worked the local copper into art, utensils, and arrowheads. The McCarthy Rd begins at the town of Chitina, where the Copper River turns south. "Chitina" comes from the Ahtna words for "copper" and "river."

The mining claims changed hands over the next few years, and in 1907, the Havemeyer, Guggenheim, and J.P. Morgan families founded what would become Kennicott Copper Corporation. By 1908, Kennicott mill town had the basics for a mining operation.

Kennicott town plan 1908.

Horses and dog sleds carried supplies from Valdez to the town. To expedite transport, a steamship was dismantled at Valdez, hauled in pieces over the mountains, and reassembled at Chitina. Until the railway was finished, supplies hauled over the mountains now finished the journey to the mill town on the Chitina River.

Construction of the the Copper River and Northwestern Railway (CR&NW), which would run 196 miles from Kennincott to Cordova, began in 1907. It would take 4 years to complete, with crews working year round, in temperatures as low as -40° F.

A steamboat was hauled in pieces from Valdez to Chitina. The CR&NW Railway ran from Cordova to Kennicott.

The railway required 129 bridges, including the Miles Glacier Bridge over the Copper River in the final stretch to Cordova. Alone it cost $1.4 million, earning it the name the "Million Dollar Bridge." The final cost of the CR&NW was $25 million, equivalent to about $660 billion today.

1 of 129 bridges on the CR&NW Railway.

In 1911, the CR&NW, by then called "Can't Run and Never Will," hauled the first load of copper, valued at $250,000, from Kennicott to Cordova. From there, it was shipped to Tacoma, WA, for smelting.

Meanwhile, about 5 miles down the hill from Kennicott, a homesteader named John Barrett theorized correctly that his land would be a good location for the CR&NW turntable. He leased land to Kennicott's owners for the turntable. Here the locomotives were turned around and pushed the train up the hill to Kennicott.

Remains of the CR&NW turntable at McCarthy

Barrett also leased parcels of his land to the miners who followed the rumors to the area and the entrepreneurs who followed, to mine the miners. The area became the town of McCarthy, where Kennicott miners and their families availed themselves of services not available in the mill town: restaurants, pool halls, hotels, saloons, an auto garage and repair shop, a hardware store, 2 newspapers, a dress shop, a shoe shop, and a photography shop. There were also holiday celebrations.

Kennicott Glacier & moraine today.

When Kennicott was founded, Kennicott Glacier spread from one side of the wide valley to the other. When you looked out over the valley, you say ice. The glacier is still there, but covered with glacial moraine, the rock and silt a glacier pushes in front of it as it moves.
Kennecott grew to include five mines: Bonanza, Jumbo, Mother Lode, Erie, and Glacier. Men came from all over the world, sometimes with their families, to undertake the grueling work. By 1915, the town had added a hospital and a store.

Kennicott town plan 1915.

Hospital & bunkhouse on either side of National Creek. Not all buildings have been restored.

The workforce eventually grew to 600. Roughly half worked in the mines, traveling to the Erie Mine on the Wagon Rd, but to the other mines via aerial tramways. Often workers returned to town only for a rare holiday or to leave Kennicott. The other half of the workforce labored in the concentrator mill, which eventually climbed 14 stories up the steep hill.

L-R: Concentrator mill, general manager's office, hospital, bunkhouse.

To meet the growing needs for housing and other buildings, hillsides were leveled with mine tailings. Management and specialized workers and their families lived in cottages and apartments on Upper Row, aka "Silk Stocking Row."

"Silk Stocking Row" cottages.

A resident of Silk Stocking Row?

By 1937, Kennicott mill town had more than 100 buildings, including a school, dental office, dairy, and more bunkhouses.

L-R: Kennicott Glacier & moraine, ammonia leaching plant, concentrator mill, warehouse (below), general manager's office, railway depot.

CR&NW Railway tracks embedded in bridge over National Creek.

Inside the Kennicott Post Office.

There were also leisure facilities—a recreation hall, ice-skating rink, ball field, tennis court—though the miners had little time to enjoy them. When they had precious free time, workers also hunted, fished, sledded, and skied.

Kennicott town plan 1937.

Sawmill on National Creek.

L: Sawmill with ammonia leaching plant & machine shop beyond.

In 1938, with the price of copper falling, Kennicott closed down. The majority of those still in the area took the last CR&NW train to Cordova. Kennicott subsequently gave the CR&NW right-of-way to the new State of Alaska. In 1971, a new bridge was constructed over the Copper River, the remaining rails were pulled up, and the rail-bed was covered with gravel, creating the McCarthy Rd and making McCarthy and Kennicott accessible to vehicles—at least as far as the Kennicott River. In the 1980s, residents, with an assist from the state, built a hand-pulled tram over the river. Today's footbridge was built in 1997, allowing easier access to McCarthy and Kennicott.

Hand-pulled tram across Kennicott River.

The tour with St Elias Alpine Guides was amazing. First of all, the tour guide was excellent—well-informed, congenial, open to any and all questions. Second, he was talented! The puddles in the dirt road from recent rains were hard to miss walking forward, yet our tour guide navigated all of them while walking backward and talking to us simultaneously!

Entering Kennicott. Kennicott Glacier Lodge, a former apartment building, is on the right.

14-story concentrator mill.

Since the tour of the 14-story concentrator mill begins at the top, we first had to take the rather steep path to the right of the building up to the top of the hill. Before we entered the mill, our guide presented each of us with a hard hat.

Our St Elias Alpine tour guide inside the Kennicott concentrator mill.

As we made our way down through the mill via a series of stairs and ladders, our guide assured us that despite appearances, as long as we stayed on the designated route it was safe.

A fellow tourist descends ladders in the mill.

Many of the machines were explained to us, yet it soon began to blur.

It's hard to imagine working here for long periods of time.

Doug discovered a mystery series on this trip by Alaska native Dana Stabenow. It stars PI Kate Shugak and takes place in a huge fictional park loosely based on Wrangell-St Elias.

In Less than a Treason, book 21 in the series, Kate helps us out with how the concentrator mill worked:

...buildings stair-stepped up the not-quite-vertical hill.... containing the machinery of an industrial mining operation and everything needed to keep it going.

Gigantic belts and shovels...

...and shaker tables with graduated grates where the water mixed with the mined ore and shook out the good stuff in smaller and smaller sizes....

...rails with metal carts...carried the day's production to the train, which would take it to Cordova and the bulk carriers waiting there.

After the tour, we decided to take the shuttle driver's suggestion and check out Kennicott Glacier Lodge. To our surprise the menu was very affordable. We spent a pleasant hour or so eating a delicious meal on the balcony overlooking the town and Kennicott Glacier. In fact, when Doug returned to Kennicott a couple of days later, he could not resist another meal on the balcony.

Lunch on Kennicott Glacier Lodge balcony.

We left McCarthy after 5 days. Clouds were pushing out the perfect weather—and maybe it really was time to move on. We drove back out the McCarthy Rd through the Cut blasted in the rock for the CR&NW at Chitina. We followed the asphalt ribbon back to Kenny Lake for gas. The owners of the mercantile had been so kind to us on the way in that we decided to camp for the night and do laundry.

Alaska 2022: McCarthy

Fri, 28 Apr 2023 21:43:00 +0200

July 26-29, 2022

We camped for 5 wonderful days on the banks of the Kennicott River at Base Camp Kennicott, at the end of the 60-mile-long dirt McCarthy Rd.
From our campsite, we could see Kennicott Glacier and Kennicott Mill Town.

Kennicott Glacier viewed from our Base Camp Kennicott campsite.

Kennicott Mill Town & footbridge to McCarthy viewed from our campsite.

From the campground, it's a 1/2-mile walk across the Kennicott River footbridge and up the dirt road to McCarthy. From McCarthy, a free shuttle takes folks the 5 miles to Kennicott.

McCarthy-Kennicott Area, 60 miles from Chitina on the dirt McCarthy Rd.

We crossed the footbridge to McCarthy at least once each day, sometimes having to press ourselves to the sides to allow four wheelers to pass.

Walking to McCarthy.

Shortcut from road to McCarthy, which we took just once.

Best to carry bear spray when walking in Alaska, especially in wooded areas. Even in Alaska's populated areas, nature is in charge.

Sign in Kennicott when we were there. Sounds like a grizzly due to its color, but it's not. Still...

The McCarthy Museum marks the turn onto Kennicott Ave, aka Dan Creek Rd, into McCarthy.

McCarthy, originally named Shushanna Junction, grew out of the need for Kennicott's miners for recreation and goods not available in Kennicott. Though it's within Wrangell-St Elias National Park and Preserve, there are privately-owned homes and businesses. The State of Alaska owns the McCarrthy Airport and the University of Alaska holds some land as well. The state, university, and Ahtna Native People conduct various types of environmental research in the park.

No far down Dan Creek Ave is the Potato, where we enjoyed several meals.

The Potato

With its dirt streets and wood porches, McCarthy resembles an old frontier town. It takes less than 5 minutes to walk from one end of town to the other. Down the slope at the far end, McCarthy Creek borders the town.

Looking back up the main street from near the end of town. R: Ma Johnson's Hotel. L: Golden Saloon & Salmon & Bear Restaurant.

Waiting for the shuttle at McCarthy Center Store.

You can also take the shuttle back to Base Camp. There's a vehicle bridge downstream, as demonstrated by this humongous Mann- or Earth Mover-type RV that barely fit.

Along the main and side streets are old, new, and remodeled structures.

Private home. Note the snowshoes above the door, propeller blade to the left of it, & walking sticks in the left corner.

Newer private home.

Wooden sidewalks.

Home moved to a new site awaiting a foundation.

Not everything is old—this home is under construction.

And the necessary outhouse.

"You're on a road to NOWHERE. <--Residential Deadends-->. Kids & dogs at play." McCarthy has a certain flavor.

Kennicott Glacier is the backdrop to McCarthy: antique car, Lancaster backpacker hotel (red) & Golden Saloon.

Marilyn of course loved the flat bed truck cum garden.

Antique car next to truck garden.

The red building in the picture above is the Old Hardware Store, which since the 1970s has housed Wrangell Mountains Center.

Folks at a Wrangell Mountains Center event.

With a mission to promote understanding of the environment and our place in it, from roughly Memorial Day to Labor Day, the center runs residential and day programs for locals, students, scholars, and travelers.Throughout the summer there are events—storytelling, music jams, nature walks, a lecture series, art exhibits, a fundraiser run—and in winter, there arre virtual events.

Storytelling even at Wrangell Mountains Center in August 2022.

The center includes Porphyry Place (porphyry: igneous rock containing crystals), a nearby cabin that serves as a concert space and study area.

Inside Porphyry Place.

The center also has demonstration gardens as part of its goal to live sustainably.

Gardens at Porphyry Place.

CRNW turntable.

Near the turnoff from McCarthy Rd to McCarthy sit the remains of a Copper River and North Western Railway turntable.The CRNW transported copper from Kennicott to Cordova, on the Gulf of Alaska. Returning from Cordova, the engine was turned around at McCarthy to chug backwards to pushed the train up the hill to Kennicott.
More on the CRNW and Kennnicott in our next post.

Alaska 2022: McCarthy Road & Base Camp Kennicott

Thu, 02 Mar 2023 21:26:00 +0200

July 25-29, 2022

It's hard to explain how every day in Alaska feels like a world unto itself, other than to say it's only been 4 days since we left Valdez, yet it feels like a lifetime ago.

Base Camp Kennicott Campground: Kennicott River & Glacier

We tore ourselves away from Valdez after 4 grand days and by mid-morning were at the turnoff to McCarthy 80 miles north.

It's 33 miles of paved road to the Wrangell-St Elias boundary, & the town of Chitina (population 71 in 2020)...

...and the road rolled out into the distance...

...but it's another 61 miles of dirt road from Chitina to McCarthy.

Good thing there was already a barrier to catch the rock slide.

Permafrost wreaks havoc on Alaska roads, uplifting them when the weather warms.

Tonsina River, one of numerous river crossings.

In Chitina, we had an important mission: mailing home boxes of Marilyn's fabric from all the quilt shops Doug made her go to.

Then it was the moment of decision...

The"Cut" marks the beginning of the 61 miles of dirt road to McCarthy.

On our previous visit in 2017, we drove through the Cut, decided the road was too rough, and following a tip in the Mile Post drove 3 miles down a side road toward O'Brien Creek. There, as promised, was an amazing campsite on the Copper River.

This year we'd already driven 1,000-miles of the dirt Dempster Highway from Dawson City to the Arctic Circle and back—another 120 miles of dirt road would be nothing!

Driving through the Cut.

The Cut was blasted through rock in 1909 to accommodate the Copper River & Northwestern Railway (CRNR). From 1911 to 1938, trains hauled copper from the Kennicott Mines the 60 miles to Chitina then south 196 miles to Cordova on the Gulf of Alaska.

"Watch for loose railroad spikes." Such warnings were the reason we carried a full-size spare tire.

In 1971, the old rail bed was covered with gravel to create the McCarthy Road. Rails and ties continue to come to the surface when the road is graded each year.

Copper River at confluence with Chitina River. "Chitina" comes form the Ahtna words for copper and river.

Chitina River

We approached the famed Kuskulana Bridge with some trepidation, having heard from Mary Nan while we were in Palmer how high and narrow the bridge is—and she crossed when it had no guard rails!

Fortunately for us, the bridge was "modernized" with guard rails in 1988.

Kuskulana River Bridge.

Crossing the Kuskulana River Bridge.

It's an exhilarating crossing. Doug enjoyed it though he was rather focused on the road due to his interesting fear of heights. Yea, he was a Navy Pilot, but he says that is different.

Fortunately we didn't encounter any tire-piercing spikes, but there was plenty of washboard.

Remains of Gilahina River train trestles.

Crossing the Lakina River.

Grading created berms to further complicate navigation.

As we neared Base Camp Kennicott, we picked up a couple of fellow travelers

And then we were at the end of the road. In the Base Camp Kennicott campground office, we were initiated into the mixture of federal, state, private, and tribal land that is Wrangell-St Elias National Park. The campground aims to maintain its status as private land to avoid the paving, regulations, and increased tourism that government ownership would bring.

Land Use: Wrangell-St Elias National Park

Sport hunting, fishing, and trapping are permitted to everyone on national preserve land. Subsistence hunting, fishing, and trapping by local residents only are allowed in both the park and preserve.

Footbridge from Base Camp Kennicott (buildings) to McCarthy.

Base Camp Kennicott has no hook-ups—our kind of campground, but it gives new meaning to "undeveloped." There are some fire rings and the occasional picnic table, but only a few, mostly primitive, outhouses, no drinking water, and no showers. You camp wherever you want. Roads and sites are rough. The upriver side was recommended as having bigger sites and being less crowded, so we proceeded to ease the van around rocks and holes, through dips and over bumps, and onto a site--not the perfect one, as it was already taken, but the views were still breath-taking.

1st night camp site at Base Camp Kennicott.

We put the rug out to dry from the Valdez rain, & Doug repaired the table leg.

It was rainy & cold--but that would end the next day.

The van was beginning to turn solid brown again.

Morning brought clear skies and temperatures in the mid-70s. We decided to investigate the downriver side of the campground. It didn't take long to discover its appeal: sites on the Kennicott River and views of Kennicott Glacier.

Looking downstream from a flat spot on the river...

... and upstream toward the footbridge...

...and Kennicott Glacier.

The van didn't move for the next 4 days.

View from footbridge to our campsite.

The Lay of the Land.

Our campsite was on the river between the footbridge & the shuttle road.

Kennicott viewed from our campsite.

The weather was perfect, the surroundings spectacular. Is it any wonder we'd wake up each morning and say, "Let's stay another day"?

We had skies like this at 4:30 PM...

...and like this at 9:41 PM...

...and like this at 4:54 AM.

And always there was Kennicott Glacier.

Kennicott Glacier.

The roaring Kennicott River was full of glacial silt, but Marilyn still had to find a path she took down to it several times a day to fill her bucket and dump the icy water over her head.

So refreshing, though her hair and skin were a bit gritty afterward.

Returning from McCarthy and Kennicott one day, Doug looked for an alternate way back to the campground. He ended up at the raft launch.

Hm, where's my kayak?

Doug's view upstream from the boat launch.

From the ramp launch, he made his way to the shuttle road downstream from the campground.

Van on campsite & shuttle road downstream.

Kennicott Glacier.

Riverside campsite.

We also had entertainment:

Dump truck negotiating the narrow shuttle bridge.

Likewise a humongous RV.

We never have been able to figure out the appeal of Man and Earth Roamer RVs. We are so comfortable in our 17.5-foot van! And the cost of gas?

Flowers as always entertained Marilyn.

Look close: a helicopter is slinging a small plane...

...and a truck.

Doug was enthralled, as he did some sling work in Vietnam. He pointed out that the helo was flying sideways to keep the plane's nose into the wind. Great airmanship.

Rafters entering the rushing cold Kennicott River.

A guide in a kayak followed.

We had cell service!!!

The neighbors' dog hung out with Doug.

We crossed the footbridge & walked the 1/2 mile to McCarthy at least once a day, starting with breakfast at the Potato.

View upriver from footbridge...

...and downriver.

But mostly, we relaxed.

Doug reading. Kennicott Glacier, off the right side of the van.

Perfect footrest, looking downstream toward the shuttle road.

Doug heating water on the wonderful stove set-up he created on one of our garage drawers.

Marilyn attempting to blog—the weather & setting prevented getting very far.

Kennicott Glacier.

Next up: McCarthy & Kennicott

A San Joaquin Valley Winter

Sat, 18 Feb 2023 21:53:00 +0200

Winter 2022-23

We've had a real Central California winter for the first time in quite a few years--rain, cold, fog, and frost in the Valley and snow in the Sierras. We wanted to share it in pictures.

December
At Christmas, our kids and grandkids were occupied with other branches of their families. We were still recovering from covid, which caught up with us despite all the vaccines and boosters, and were happy to hold down the fort at our friends' house in Los Osos on the Central Coast. They were home with their family in foggy and cold Visalia.

Kayaks on Morro Bay at the Nautical Bean Cafe, Los Osos.

Boats from the dock on the bay.

Walking the beach at Morro Bay between storms.

Snowy Plover walking the beach.

Doug relaxing some more on our friends' back patio.

Doug drove up to Cayucos one day, but high tide curtailed his beach walk. Morro Rock is in the distance.

After Christmas, we drove about an hour north to the Piedras Blancas Elephant Seal Rookery.

Elephant seal cooling off with sand.

Male elephant seal.

It was birthing season. Seagulls were at the ready for the placenta. Young males sparred.

Wharf at Hearst San Simeon State Park.

Hearst Castle sitting on the hill. No zebras were out that day.

Morro Rock & Morro Bay's triple towers, now dormant.

In California, we measure distance in time, not miles. If you ask someone how many miles it is or how long it will take to get somewhere, they will ask what time you are leaving.

January

Jan 2, we drove the hour-plus to Kings Canyon National Park, site of our first date 20 years ago.

Kings Canyon National Park.

Icicles on park buildings.

The potential for ice on the roads dissuaded us from driving the half hour further to Hume Lake, which we'd walked around on our first date and have walked around and kayaked on numerous times since.

Boulders are a common site in the Sierras.

We always enjoy meandering through farm land on our way home.

Lemons & navel oranges ripen in winter.

Farmworkers park by the orchard they are picking.

Fruit is picked when packing houses request it.

Forklift picking up boxes of oranges...

...to load on trucks headed for packing houses.

Green fields & the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

Flooding from recent rains along road by almond orchard.

New Zealand isn't the only source for kiwi--it's grown in California's Central Valley, too.

Cattle sileage under wraps. This will ferment & we will have happy cows.

Dairy farm near home: it's been said that Tulare County is an island surrounded by cows.

Normally dry St John's River.

Is there anything like an oak silhouetted against the sky?

Sierras taken about a quarter mile from home.

And there was more rain: our poor garden lamb was soon going to have to swim!

Our flooding back yard.

And our flooding street. Doug really wanted to launch his kayak, but the water went down before he could. We carry flood insurance for the possibility of major flooding, which many nearby communities suffered this winter.

Rain pouring down the back yard rain chain.

The two ditches that flow through our neighborhood were filling.

Oak-lined walking paths in our neighborhood are especially pleasant when water is flowing in the ditches.

On January 10, Doug drove up to Lake Kaweah to check out the kayaking potential.

There looked to be plenty of water...

...but not enough water yet to launch from the Slick Rock boat ramp.

Two days later, Doug and friend Steve drove up to Lake Kaweah, parked at Slick Rock, and hauled their kayaks down to the water.

Steve & kayak. Are you sure we want to do this? It's cold!

Looking up at boat launch from water.

They paddled upsteam--a satisfying outing even though they could not go as far upstream as will hopefully be possible in a couple of months.

Looking up the Kaweah River.

Doug's foot pointing at the Sierras & the snow.

Later in January, we spent a grand weekend with Marilyn's younger son and his wife in San Rafael.

San Francisco from Richmond-San Rafael Bridge, 6:15 AM.

Marilyn was still recovering from covid, so we left San Rafael early and drove the four hours home.

Happy California cows along I-5 on the west side of the Central Valley.

And happy California sheep.

Soggy pistachio orchard along 198 between I-5 & home.

Demise of an orchard, a not uncommon site.

Palm trees marking driveway. There's a certain love of palm trees in the Valley. Not sure why--they aren't natives & they don't really fit the landscape or even offer shade, but...

Soggy peach orchard.

California Aqueduct runs 444 miles from Sacramento-San Joaquin River Delta near Stockton to LA.

Row crop irrigation ditches filled with rain water.

Kings River.

So green!

Arrived home, Doug showered then at 11:00 AM turned the van north for Seattle to visit his kids and grandson. He made it to a rest stop out of Eugene, OR, that day and Bellingham, WA the next. Along the way, he dropped off 11 bags of fresh oranges, mandarins, and lemons from home with friends and family. Marilyn flew to Seattle a week later to join him.

February
We made our annual trip--actually two this year--to Intermountain Nursery in Auberry to get new plants for our yard. The variety of sages seems endless, and we brought home a half dozen, plus lettuce.

Rolling clouds & foothills.

More happy California cows.

Ominous cloud over the Sierras.

Doug & new friend at Intermountain Nursery.

San Joaquin River mesas.

Oak.

Hint of pink in a peach orchard along 99.

Meanwhile, back at the homestead, we decided it was time for the artichoke to go. It took up too much space for fruit that paled in comparison to its partner, which had died.

Doug vs artichoke.

The artichoke trunk was about 4" in diameter.

We also decided that the mandarin tree had to go. After years, it actually put out a splendid crop this year, but we spent more time spitting out seeds than chewing. A potting bench will take its place.

Mandarin tree we'd originally thought was a navel orange.

Now to fix the broken sprinkler & drip lines & fill in the hole.

Otherwise, our yard is in its winter splendor.

Lemon tree that Doug always says should be dead produced another bumper crop.

Sadly this is a Valencia orange, better for juicing than eating, so we give them away. Yes, living in our area makes us fruit snobs.

Yellow daffodils are showing off...

...as are the white & yellow ones...

...& miniatures.

Paper whites spread their perfume from the street corner.

Lavender grosso rarely stop blooming.

Hummingbird sage with Doug's Pi rock sculpture as backdrop.

Bearded iris à la Van Gogh.

And last for now, but far from least, Doug has acquired a 14.5-foot kayak, so he can keep up with his buddy Steve.

Doug in new 14.5-foot kayak in Morro Bay.

Alaska 2022: Valdez

Sat, 31 Dec 2022 02:04:00 +0200

July 21-25, 2022

Spectacular. Gorgeous. Stunning. Breathtaking. Awe-inspiring. Valdez is pretty difficult to describe.

View from our campsite at Valdez RV Park.

But first, we had to get there--it was 200 miles from our boondock on the Matanuska River. We got an early start and enjoyed views of the sprawling Matanuska Glacier as we headed northeast on the Glenn Hwy toward Glennallen.

Matanuska Glacier: 27 miles long, 4 miles wide at terminus.

Chugach Mountains south of Glenn Hwy.

As we neared Glennallen, upside down "L" poles lined the highway. One tour bus driver is known to tell his passengers that the poles spray water, giving passing vehicles a free wash.

Poles to guide snowplows.

The poles are actually for snowplows. The vertical section marks the edge of the road, so the drivers don't end up in a ditch. The horizontal section indicates the shoulder area. Poles on the Richardson Hwy also have GPS to guide snowplows.
We were treated to a moose sighting. It appeared to be a juvenile. At least, it wasn't a adult bull, as it had no rack.

Who, me?

Glennallen isn't much more than services at the junction of the Glenn and Richardson Highways. In addition to a gas station, grocery store, post office, campground, and visitor information center, there's a library, BLM office, and, most importantly, Ernesto's Mobile Grill. Ernesto's appeared to have found a permanent home at the "Hub of Alaska." Breakfast was the most amazing huevos rancheros--nothing like good Mexican food!

Heading south to Valdez: Chugach Mountains.

Now we were ready to hit the road. For the next few hours, our heads would be on a gimble as we took in the landscape.
At Copper Center, 20 miles south of Glennallen, we stopped at Wrangell-St Elias National Park Visitors Center. At 13.2 million acres, Wrangell-St Elias is the largest national park in the US. In fact, 7 of the top 10 are in Alaska. In the lower 48, only Death Valley, Yellowstone, and the Everglades break the top 10. More on Wrangell-St Elias in our upcoming McCarthy-Kennicott post.

Ahtna Cultural Center Legacy House.

Also on the visitors center grounds is the Ahtna Cultural Center. The Ahtna are one of 13 Alaska Native Regional Corporations established by Congress under the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act of 1971. Their mission is to preserve their cultural heritage and to provide opportunities for shareholders. For thousands of years, the Copper River Basin has been the traditional homeland of the Ahtna people. Most of the corporation's 2,000 shareholders are of Ahtna Athabascan descent.

Traditional fishwheel at Ahtna Cultural Center.

The center includes a fishwheel. Originally used by Alaska Natives for subsistence living--using only as much of natural resources as is necessary for food, shelter, clothing, transportation, handcrafts, and trade--today, any Alaska resident can use a fishwheel during the state-regulated salmon season.
It was chilly, and we were soon back in the van warming up.

Richardson Hwy connects Valdez, Mile 0, to Fairbanks, Mile 364.

We saw the Trans-Alaska Pipeline several times, as it nears the end of its journey from Prudhoe Bay.

Alaska Pipeline viewed form Richardson Hwy.

Over the 800 miles, the pipeline passes through tunnels, crosses rivers, runs across permafrost, and goes up and down 3 mountain ranges.

The Trans Alaska Pipeline has 12 pumping stations along its 800-mile route from Prudhoe Bay on the Beaufort Sea to Valdez on the Gulf of Alaska.

As we passed the turnoff to McCarthy Road, we continued to ponder whether we wanted to drive the 30 miles of pavement followed by 60 miles of dirt road to McCarthy-Kennincott.

The park boundary is 33 miles, but McCarthy-Kennicott is 90 miles, the last 60 on a dirt road.

For now, we continued on to Valdez. We called ahead to Valdez RV Park, where we'd stayed in 2017. It was our introduction to Wendy, one of the employees, who assured us there were plenty of dry campsites available, and they'd save one for us, whenever we arrived.

Heading south to Valdez.

Starting up 2,678-foot Thompson Pass, we were congratulating ourselves that though it was cold, the weather was nothing like 2017, when the visibility was about zero. And then...

Thompson Pass obscured by fog & rain. Note the "L" snow plow poles along the shoulder.

Fog and rain quickly reduced visibility. So there was a bit of white-knuckling as we navigated the pass, but the fog, if not the rain, relented as we came down off it. Thompson Pass is known as the Snowiest Place in Alaska--it averages 42 feet of snow a year! The record was set in the winter of 1952-53: 81 feet!

It cleared enough that we were able to see Worthington Glacier. In 2017, we didn't even know it existed until we left Valdez. As we came over Thompson Pass going north, Doug said, "Look in the rearview mirror." My jaw dropped at the enormous swath of ice behind us. We returned to walk up to the glacier.

Worthington Glacier. Driving to Valdez in 2017, it was invisible.

You might say the "dry" campsites--meaning no hook-ups-- at Valdez RV Park weren't exactly dry, for it was rainy and wet when we arrived.

Valdez RV Park dry campsites.

But sunshine in a place that averages 70 inches of rain annually is a bit on the rare side. Valdez is also known as the Snowiest Town in the US: it averages 25 feet of snow per year.
We fell in love with the family who had bought Valdez RV Park since our previous visit.

There was an electric panel behind our dry campsite--the owner generously told us to plug in!

We felt as though the owners and employees adopted us--and we certainly wanted to adopt all of them! Their kindness and generosity began immediately when Kate, the owner, walking us to dry-camping-no-hookups Site 1, said, "You know, there's an electric panel right next to you--why don't you just plug into it?"

Doug, toasty inside the van.

We gladly took the chill off the inside of the van with our portable electric heater and gladly offered more than the going rate for our site each day to cover the electricity. And we were still away from the RVs crowded into the hook-ups area of the campground.

View from our campsite

Around 8:30 the first night, we looked out and saw Kate and her 3 kids digging a trench in an attempt to drain the huge puddle in the campground. Doug headed out to help--and soon took over directing and trenching.

Doug (in maroon) with owner and kids trenching to drain the huge puddle in the campground.

Valdez was magical. We even talked about spending a summer there.

Valdez Harbor.

Valdez sits on Port Valdez Fjord, an arm of Prince William Sound, and is surrounded by the glaciated Chugach Mountains.

Valdez is small & easy to walk.

Valdez is small, and we enjoyed heading out from the campground each day to explore the town--and eat.

Valdez Harbor

In 2017, we'd done the Civic Center Overlook Trail and visited the museums and the wonderful library. Once again we visited the town library and enjoyed their book exchange selection.

Walking from the campground down Chitina Rd to downtown.

Kate recommended the Nat Shack for dinner. It was just down the road from the campground, across from the harbor.

The Nat Shack, home of unique tacos.

The amazing enclosed tacos were so delicious we went there another evening for dinner, as well. We loved the Crunchwrap--beef, tostado, lettuce, nachos, sour cream, pico de gallo, chipotle--and the Banh Mi--chicken, cilantro lime rice, pickled carrot, tostada, jalapeno, spicy mayo, cilantro. Yum!

Doug getting out of the rain at the Nat Shack.

We went to Trada's Breakfast Diner one morning, were lucky there was a free table, and waited...and waited.... There was one server for the tour bus group that had just left and the crowd that was now filling both dining rooms. She eventually took our order, though not before sitting down and telling us her life story...but the pancakes were phenomenal. We made the mistake of having breakfast at another restaurant the next morning, and had rubber pancakes. Our last day, we returned to Trada's. There was no wait, and the pancakes were again delicious. We begged the chef for his recipe, but he simply said it's just all in the heat of the griddle.
Of course we justified all the wonderful meals by all the walking we did, both in Valdez and at nearby spots we visited.

Short drives from Valdez are Old Valdez, Solomon Gulch Fish Hathery, Valdez Gladier Lake, & Homestead Trail.

Old Valdez

A brief History of Valdez

The Ahtna, Sugpiaq, and Eyak Native Peoples used the Prince William Sound-Copper River Basin as their hunting and fishing grounds for thousands of years.

The English explored Prince William Sound, but it was the Spanish who ventured up the 11-mile fjord to the area of Valdez. In 1790, Spaniard Salvador Fidalgo dubbed the area Valdes. He has a street named after him in Valdez.

In the 1800s, the Russians had trading posts in the Prince William Sound area for trading with the Native Peoples.

Klondike

In 1897, the discovery of gold in the Klondike and the promise of an "All-American Trail" lured 4,000 or so prospectors to the area of Old Valdez, about 4 miles west of today's town. The trail would avoid the strict requirements imposed by the Canadian government on those who traveled the Chilkoot Trail out of Dyea. However, Captain Abercrombie, who had touted the trail, had never actually been on it.

Gold in the Klondike & around Copper Center. Copper at Kennicott.

The "trail" turned out to be an arduous climb over Valdez Glacier and up the Klutina River to Klutina Lake. There, just as at Lake Bennett at the end of the Chilkoot Trail, prospectors had to build boats to cross the lake and go on to Copper Center. Some continued to the Klondike, but others stayed in the area as gold had been discovered there as well. Some prospectors didn't even leave Valdez, instead setting up shop to prosper from their fellow prospectors.

In 1898, the Army, led by the same Captain Abercrombie who had claimed the existence of a trail to Eagle, began to actually build the trail. Rather than going over Valdez Glacier, it followed a trail that Native Peoples had traveled for thousands of years along the Lowe River through Keystone Canyon.

Lowe River in Keystone Canyon

Bit of a difference that, climbing a glacier vs following a river. Abercrombie named the canyon Keystone after his home state of Pennsylvania, the Keystone State.

Kennicott

In 1900, one of the richest copper deposits ever found anywhere was discovered on the edge of Kennicott Glacier in the Wrangell Mountains. Mining began in anticipation of loading the copper onto a train that would reach the Gulf of Alaska.

Unfinished railroad tunnel hand-drilled in Keystone Canyon.

Railroad routes were proposed to both Valdez and Cordova. One company began to hand-drill a tunnel through the cliffs of Keystone Canyon, 12 miles east of Valdez. But the discovery of coal along the Cordova route put the kabosh on the Valdez route.

A scalawag remained determined to bring the train to Valdez, especially as he had convinced many Valdez residents to invest with him. When he showed up with his crew to continue drilling the tunnel through Keystone Canyon, US Marshalls met him and forbade any work to be done. He fled the area, taking with him the money from the citizens of Valdez.

Alaska Railroad

In the 1920s, Valdez again lost its bid for a railroad, when the Alaska Railroad chose Seward as its terminus. Not only did Valdez not get the railroad, it now had competition as a port of entry into the interior of Alaska. By 1920, the population of Valdez was less than 500, where it remained for the next few decades.

Good Friday Earthquake & Tsunami

Old Valdez, 1955.

On March 27, 1964, Good Friday, a 9.2 earthquake, to this day still the largest earthquake ever in North America, struck at 5:36 PM, 15 miles beneath the surface of Prince William Sound. It lasted 4 minutes and 38 seconds.

If you've ever felt an earthquake, you know 4 minutes and 38 seconds is an unimaginably long time. I will never forget standing in a doorway holding my infant son during the 1983 Coalinga earthquake, which was a 6.7, was 62 miles away, and lasted "only" 45 interminable seconds.

In Valdez, since it was Good Friday school was out, and many children and adults were at the docks, excitedly waiting for the unloading of the supply ship Chena from Seattle that had just arrived. Crew members were tossing candy and oranges to the adults and kids when the earthquake hit. The land where the town had been built was all sand and gravel. At the waterfront, the earthquake caused the land to liquify. Most of those at the docks had no chance to escape as the land slid away and the water swallowed them. In all, 26 adults and 6 children ages 2 to 15 died. The Chena survived, but 3 crewmen died. This was followed by a tsunami that surged into Valdez, causing great damage but no further loss of life.

Figures vary, but the earthquake and subsequent tsunamis killed about 131 Alaskans around Prince William Sound. About 17 people also died in the tsunamis that hit the Oregon and California coasts.

Good Friday 1964 Alaska Earthquake. Valdez was 56 miles from the epicenter.

A memorial to the Valdez residents who died in the Good Friday earthquake was built on the foundation of the Old Town Post Office. It was sobering to see the names of families who perished.

After the destruction, the Valdez townsite was condemned. Not only was the land unstable, it now flooded at high tide. In 1967, relocation to the new town, 4 miles west, was completed. Dozens of bulidings from the old townsite were moved to the new Valdez. Valdez Museum has a wonderful site with pictures of the original town.
We enjoyed quiet views from Old Valdez and nearby Pioneer Cemetery.

Old Valdez townsite today: offshore is the Valdez Container Terminal, a floating concrete dock for loading & offloading shipping containers, & a 9-silo grain terminal.

There was one sign we decided not to venture beyond.

We thought better of wandering beyond this sign...

A Campground Story

On our 2017 visit to Valdez, we'd bought salmon at Peter Pan Seafoods on the harbor.

Reminder of our 2017 visit to Valdez--bag for salmon.

This time, Doug just walked a short way down the street from the campground and bought some. He cooked it up outside on our camp stove.

Nothing like Chef Doug's fresh salmon for dinner.

Later that evening, we joined the staff to roast marshmallows around the barbecue pit. We got to meet Wendy's daughters, who were home from college "Outside"--in the Lower 48.

9:00 PM: Marshmallow roast.

Doug also took a typical meander through the campground. What wasn't typical was that he returned wearing a gorgeous wool sweater!

Doug modeling his new favorite sweater. It was brisk enough to enjoy it.

He'd noticed a Retired Navy Nurse license plate holder and being a Retired Navy Pilot introduced himself to the owner. During their conversation she held out the sweater and asked Doug if he'd like to have it--the person she'd made it for had declined! We still can't get over her generosity!

Solomon Gulch Fish Hatchery
Silver salmon start running in Valdez toward the end of July, so one afternoon, we drove out to Solomon Gulch Fish Hatchery. It was too early in the day for the grizzlies to come down to feed on the spawning salmon, but the seals provided entertainment.

Beginning of fish ladder is on left. Spectators & seagulls watch seals. The gulls eat whatever the seals discard.

Since 1982, the fish hatchery has grown and released pink and coho salmon fish fry. Like all salmon, the fish return to where they were spawned--in this case, the hatchery--to spawn the next generation. Those that aren't used by the hatchery for new stock are harvested by commercial purse seine fishermen.

Seals & grizzlies pretty much just open their mouths & let the salmon that didn't make it up the fish ladder flop in.

Seals taking a break from gorging on salmon. Hatchery fish ladder is on the right.

Time for a break!

We watched this guy lumber laboriously up on the rocks (see video above)--he really needed a break from all that salmon!

Further out Dayville Rd from the fish hatchery is the terminus of the Alaska Pipeline.

All rested & ready for more salmon!

Aleyska Pipeline Valdez Marine Terminal.

Valdez Glacier Lake
Valdez Glacier Lake with its year-round icebergs is just a few miles out of town.

Icebergs--in July!

Folks kayak on the lake and upstream into the canyon, either with a tour or on their. Once out on the water, Valdez Glacier becomes visible.

Iceberg floating in Valdez Glacier Lake.

Dad & son ready to kayak upstream.

Kayaking on the lake looked very attractive, but also rather cold. Though we had our inflatable kayaks packed in their suitcases in the van garage, we did not have the gear to support the cold weather, so we opted to stay on shore. It seems to happen that when we take our kayaks on a trip we don't use them, and when we leave them at home we could have used them daily!

Two families, parents & young children, were well outfitted for kayaking in the glacier-fed lake. They headed upstream into the canyon on the right of the photo.

Valdez Glacier Stream flows from the lake past the Old Valdez townsite and into Port Valdez Fjord.

How Far Has Doug Traveled???
As we returned to Valdez, the trip odometer hit 6,000 miles. That is, in the 6-plus weeks since leaving home, Doug had driven 6,000 miles (only 6,200 to go)! Marilyn had been with him 4-plus weeks and a little over 2,000 miles.

Odometer hit 6,000 miles returning from Valdez Glacier Lake--Doug had been on the road 6-plus weeks

Homestead Trail
Wendy told us about Homestead Trail along Mineral Creek out where near she lived, so we drove out there one day to walk it.

Homestead Trail follows Mineral Creek out to Port Valdez.

The glaciated Chugach Mountains surround Valdez.

It's a flat easy trail, with stunning views of Port Valdez and the Chugach Mountains.

Pink fireweed painted the landscape everywhere we went on our trip.

Almost to Port Valdez Fjord.

Fishing boats plied the waters of Port Valdez on this beautiful day.

Salmon spawn in Mineral Creek, but we didn't see any.

Perhaps this bald eagle was waiting for a few salmon to come by.

More Campground Stories
One morning, Marilyn walked over to the shower rooms and found them all occupied. She went next door to the office to chat with Kate, the owner, and Wendy, their amazing employee. Kate's daughter was also there. After a bit, Marilyn returned to the van.

View out the back of hte van.

Awhile later, Marilyn returned to the bathhouse and found an open shower. While she was there, Kate's daughter ran to the van and told Doug she had a shower for Marilyn! Kate later told us her daughter had practically guarded that shower with her life, not letting anyone near it! See why we felt adopted and never wanted to leave?

Kate's youngest was always practicing casting in the parking lot. When Doug asked what he was catching, he said, "Rock Fish." Yet another reason why we like this family.

Kate's youngest casting for Rock Fish.

Another Tale of Mushrooms
If you've been following our blog for awhile, you probably know that mushrooms fascinate Marilyn. So herewith, mushrooms from Pioneer Cemetery in Old Valdez.

Various stages of emerging.

Time to see what life's like above ground.

Patterns.

All decked out for the emerging party.

Above ground welcoming committee.

Fascinating undersides.

Adieu, Valdez
We left Valdez reluctantly after saying our good-byes to our amazing hosts. After a couple of perfect days of sunshine, it was raining again, and we'd decided, sort of, that we thought we might go to McCarthy-Kennicott.

A last view from our site at Valdez RV Park.

Driving along Richardson Hwy from Valdez.

Keystone Canyon: Bridalveil Falls.

Keystone Canyon: Horsetail Falls.

Turnoff at Tonsina. Off on our next adventure--and our holiday card that we posted.

Alaska 2022: Lazy Mountain, Hatcher Pass, & Matanuska Glacier

Mon, 19 Dec 2022 16:52:00 +0200

July 18-21, 2022

After 3 grand days in Seward on the Kenai Peninsula, we returned to family camp at JBER, the military base on the north side of Anchorage, to do laundry. The next morning, we drove the short 43 miles northeast to Palmer, where Marilyn's brother-in-law David spent much of his youth. We were going to visit his sister, Mary Nan, and her husband, John, who now live in the family home.

Downtown Palmer with Lazy Mountain behind.

Mary Nan had recommended we drive up Hatcher Pass, but folks in town said driving the steep, 1-lane, curvy road that day, what with the fog and rain, would be too dangerous.

Hatcher Pass Rd.

So Marilyn whiled away the time in the local quilt shop (hm, wonder if she spent any money...) while Doug walked about town in the rain and found a used book store.

Some of the fabric Marilyn was obliged to buy in quilt shops in Canada & Alaska; laying out for a quilt at home.

Palmer is in the rich Matanuska-Susitna, or Mat-Su, Valley. Those gigantic Alaska cabbages we've all seen in pictures? They're from the Mat-Su Valley. Take fertile soil, add nearly 24-hour-a-day sunshine for a few months, and voila! The world record for largest cabbage, set in 2012 at the Alaska State Fair, which takes place in Palmer each fall, still stands: 138.25 pounds.

Winning 138.25-pound cabbage, Alaska State Fair, 2012.

At the 2022 state fair, the winner weighed in at a mere 84.05 lb.
Palmer has about 6,000 residents, making it a pretty large town by Alaska standards. Remember, Alaska is huge--it's as wide as the entire lower 48. Texas, California, and Montana fit inside it, with room to spare. But the state has only 750,000 residents. Half of them live in Anchorage.

Size of Alaska compared to the lower 48.

Under the 1930s New Deal, the federal government moved 200-plus farming families from Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota to the Mat-Su Valley. They were provided a home, a barn, 40 acres, and a $3,000 loan.
David and Mary Nan's parents arrived in Palmer much later, moving from Minnesota in 1963--just in time for the 1964 earthquake. It was Good Friday, 5:30 PM, when the largest earthquake ever recorded in North America, a 9.2, struck Alaska.

"Ghost Forest" Palmer Hay Flats caused by the sinking landscape.

The earthquake and subsequent tsunami caused destruction from Alaska to Los Angeles and led to the establishment of the West Coast and Alaska Tsunami Warning Center in Palmer. We'll write a little more about the earthquake in our post on Valdez.

In late afternoon, we left Palmer, crossed the Matanuska River, which empties into the Knik Arm of Cook Inlet, and drove up to Lazy Mountain. It was here that David, Mary Nan, and two more brothers grew up, their dad the town’s GP, and their mom an occupational therapist.

Across the Matanuska River from Palmer headed for Lazy Mountain.

The spacious home and yard were built by their parents for Alaska's long days of summer and long nights of winter.

What an idyllic location!

As kids, they watched moose come into the yard.

Mary Nan has an amazing green thumb.

Flowers & whimsical sculptures abound in the gardens & pots.

Patio off deck with huge pots of gorgeous flowers.

Everywhere you look there are pots spilling over with flowers & garden art.

Northern Monkshood?

Marilyn loved the Japanese lantern near the hollyhocks.

All the rain was encouraging wonderful mushrooms out of the ground, another of Marilyn's favorites.

After an amazing wild salmon dinner and hours of wonderful conversation and stories of Mary Nan and John's experiences growing up, living, and working in Alaska, we headed to bed in the van. We were parked in their driveway turnaround, a wonderful flat spot...

...surrounded by gardens...

...with the sound of the stream trickling muscially behind us all night long.

Stream running through the back yard.

Morning brought blue skies and puffy white clouds, so we headed for Hatcher Pass. After crossing back over the Matanuska River, we were soon in the famed farmland of the Mat-Su Valley.

Rolling green fields dotted with rolled bales of hay.

The little Susitna River raged alongside the road.

Little Susitna River swollen by rain.

We began to climb toward Hatcher Pass.

Heading up to Hatcher Pass.

At the beginning of the 20th century, Robert Lee Hatcher discovered gold here in the Talkeetna Mountains at about 3,500 feet and made a lode claim.

Little Susitna River, pink fireweed, white yarrow.

Lode mining is not an individual operation, as it requires miles of tunnels and heavy equipment. Two mining companies were formed, the Alaska Free Gold Mine and the Independence Mine. Pre-WWI, the mines were combined into the Alaska-Pacific Consolidated Mining Company. "Boomtown" housed the 200 mine workers, including 22 families, and 8 children attended the Territorial School in the bunkhouse.

Buildings of former Independence Gold Mine; note piles of tailings.

After WWII, during which all gold mining in the US was shut down, the mine reopened and operated until 1951.

Former mine housing. Looking toward Palmer & Chugach Mountains.

Today the area is the Independence Mine State Historic Park, offering a self-guided tour of the mine camp, hiking, winter sports, a Visitors Center, a snack shop, and a gift shop.
The park sits on a hairpin turn, and as we pulled out, this sign greeted us:

A sign that Doug likes--another adventure!

Leaving the gold mine park to head to the pass.

It was only another 330 feet to the top, but it was a steep 330 feet.

The climb from Independence Mine to Hatcher Pass isn't far, but it's steep & the road turns to gravel. Note the ice on the side of the road.

Summitt Lake is off to the left.

We made it!

It was cold at Hatcher Pass!

A pond-size puddle & snow alongside the road.

It was steep going down the other side of Hatcher Pass, too.

Just a little hairpin curve.

And it was beautiful.

Fireweed & green hills.

We exited Hatcher Pass Road at Willow, had the pleasure of passing through Wasilla again, and turned east on the Glennallen Hwy at Anchorage.

Back on the Parks Hwy, looking south toward Anchorage.

It was only 11 AM. We knew we wanted to go to Valdez, at least a 5.5-hour, 300-mile drive, But we weren't really inclined to push it. So we decided to just play it by ear. What else is new?

Matanuska River & Chugach Mountains.

We were soon gaping at views of the Matanuska River and Valley, with the Chugach Mountains to the south and the Talkeetna Mountains to the north.

Matanuska River along Glennallen Hwy.

A couple of hours later, Doug, as he so's great at, caught something out of the corner of his eye. We found a pullout high above the river, got out and looked at the awesome landscape, and decided to backtrack.

Chugach Mountains.

Sure enough, Doug had seen folks camped along the river. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a private campground. Undeterred, Doug backtracked some more, and we discovered Matanuska Rd.

We couldn't get to the spot where the white RVs are in the picture, but Matanuska Rd took us to great spots on this side of the stream that cut through the riverbank.

Soon, we were boondocking right on the river, though it took Doug some maneuvering to get the van angled so the wind wouldn't pound it. Unfurling the awning was out of the question.

Boondocking on the Matanuska River.

Alaska is the best for free camping spots. You can park almost anywhere, as long as you aren't in the road. Doug uses pullouts when he's alone, because he takes off as soon as he wakes up. But when traveling together, we prefer to be in a scenic spot and take a little more time in the morning.
Cold as it was, Marilyn did some scouting for a spot to dip her bucket in the river for water to pour over her head.

Marilyn scouting a bucket-dipping spot.

She succeeded, against her better judgment, then spilled the water climbing back up the short slippery bank. She thought better of trying again.

Marilyn's bucket dipping spot. Would you take a short but steep, rocky, & slippery path to a raging, glacier-fed river to prove you could get some water out of it to pour over your head on a cold, windy day???

Doug exploring the river.

Late that evening, we watched as a rafting party turned into the stream, loaded their gear and themselves into a van and trailer, and headed to warmer surroundings.

Stream separating us from private camping. Rafters pulled out of the river into the stream late in the evening.

Van viewed from the highway.

Doug took this amazing photo at 2:00 AM.

2:00 AM on the Matanuska River.

We got an early start the next morning. For miles we had views of the sprawling Matanuska Glacier: 27 miles long and, at its terminus, 4 miles wide.

Matanuska Glacier.

Unfortunately, access to walk to the glacier is somehow on private land, but there are great views from Glennallen Hwy and Matanuska Glacier State Recreation Site.

4-mile-wide terminus of Matanuska Glacier seen from Glennallen Hwy.

We still weren't sure if we wanted to make the 180-mile roundtrip drive to McCarthy-Kennicott, 120 of it on a 1-lane dirt road, but we knew we wanted to go to Valdez again. So we continued northeast toward Glennallen, where we'd turn south on the Richardson Hwy.

Merry Holidays!

Thu, 15 Dec 2022 22:25:00 +0200

15 December 2022

Wishing all our followers Merry Holidays

All the best for 2023!

Thank you for reading about &

commenting on our travels.

We look forward to sharing more with you in 2023.

Canada-Alaska 2022: Kenai Peninsula - Seward

Wed, 14 Dec 2022 03:56:00 +0200

July 15-18, 2022

We wanted to return to Seward, which we'd visited in 2017, so off we went, driving south from Anchorage along Turnagain Arm.

Chugach Mountains are backdrop as we head south from Anchorage.

The drive from Anchorage to Seward is under 3 hours--if it's not a big holiday.

Following the road along Turnagain Arm, we passed Bird Creek Campground. It was our first campground in Alaska in 2017. We had taken Mz Agnes, our Ford poptop, on the Alaska Ferry, 5 amazing days from Bellingham, WA, including the Inside Passage, finally disembarking in Whittier, AK. Ask Doug about driving the 2.5-mile-long, 1-lane, 1-way-at-a-time tunnel.

Looking across Turnagain Arm to the Kenai Peninsula.

We stopped in Girdwood for coffee at the Alpine Cafe and Bakery.

The notch on the bottom right is approximately where Hope is.

At the top of the Kenai Peninsula, we were tempted to continue around the north end to the sleepy town of Hope. But though we enjoyed it on our last trip, it didn't take long to remember the grizzly bears in the campground, so we decided to head on.

Recent rains created a patchwork of greens. More importantly, they helped clear the air & extinguish the wild fires that had plagued Alaska in May & June.

At the junction with Hwy 9 to Seward, Hwy 1 continues on around the west side of the Kenai Peninsula to Homer. We elected not to go to Homer as we'd found it a bit too "touristy" on our previous trip.

Soon we were crossing Moose Pass, which figured in the "last full-scale, old-fashioned, frontier-style gold rush in the United States...in 1909 at Iditarod" ("Iditarod: Gold Rush to Ghost Town"). Iditarod is roughly halfway, about 500 miles, between Nome and Seward. Upon arriving at Moose Pass in the early 20th century, two enterprising men built a small inn and supply house to serve the prospectors arriving by boat in Seward. Since the gold in Seward and Nome had petered out, prospectors headed inland, from both Nome and Seward, to the latest gold strike: at Iditarod.

Dogsled typical of original Iditarod Trail days.

That was all well and good in summer, but in winter Nome's harbor was iced in, while Seward's harbor on Resurrection Bay remained ice free. The only way to get gold out of Iditarod and nearby goldfields in winter was through Seward, and the only way to get to Seward was by sled dog team.

The original Iditarod Trail ran about 1,000 miles from Seward to Nome, with Iditarod, now a ghost town except during the annual Iditarod Sled Dog Race, about halfway in between.

Dogsleds were soon carrying mail and supplies from Seward to Iditarod and gold from Iditarod to Seward. The original people who created and traveled using sled dogs on all of Alaska's interior trails were of course Alaska's Natives. They had bred dogs for centuries to meet particular needs ("Booms and Busts: Iditarod Trail History").

Sign on Resurrection Bay in downtown Seward commemorates original Iditarod Trail.

The inaugural run of the Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race, in 1973, ran not from Seward but from Anchorage to Nome. The section from Seward to Anchorage had long since been overlaid with rail tracks and roads.

Carving of sled dogs & sled near Seward Harbor.

A bit of trivia: How did Nome get its name? Some say a cartographer mistoopk the note "? name" by a cape on a nautical chart as "C. Nome," so thought the name to be "Cape Nome."
Once again, Seward did not disappoint. Located on Resurrection Bay, a fjord of the Gulf of Alaska, it is surrounded by glaciated peaks.

Fishing boat on Resurrection Bay.

The municipal campgrounds were no longer first-come-first-serve, now requiring an online reservation, and prices had increased. Luckily, we found a tent site with a view of Resurrection Bay.

Resurrection Bay is lined with 100s of municipal camp sites.

At 17-1/2 feet & not requiring hook-ups, we're small enough to usually be permitted in tent sites. An additional bonus: tent sites are definitely cheaper & more spacious.

Have we said how much we like our garage set-up (the back of the van under the bed)? Marilyn made the shoe and tool bags on the doors. Cameron, of Heritage Custom Carpentry, made the 2 drawers, each extending the 3-foot length of the garage. Rolef of Montreal made the amazing curtain/no see-um screens on the back and side doors, and our friend David installed them.

Our "garage." We love that our van is a group effort. The bed is visible through the screen in the top half.

Our campsite came with artwork:

Painted rocks set against a piece of wood on a picnic table...

...& tucked in at the base of a tree.

View across Resurrection Bay from near our campsite. Each time we looked the view was different, thanks to the clouds, fog, & rain.

Drenched bald eagle perched on a rock, probably futilely hoping to dry off, while a seal paddled by behind with a fish it had caught.

A path runs along Resurrection Bay between downtown Seward and the harbor. On his walk the first morning, Doug discovered campsites downtown. We were in luck as one was available. It was just a flat spot with no services--but since it was right on Resurrection Bay with views all around of the mountains and glaciers, it was perfect.

Our downtown campsite, did we say right on the water?

View across Resurrection Bay from downtown campsite.

The rain came and went, clouds and fog lifted and lowered, making for amazing vistas throughout our 3-day stay in Seward. It was another place where we found ourselves waking in the morning, taking a look at the view outside and saying, "Let's stay another day." As we had no itinerary aside from enjoying Alaska, it worked.

Doug capturing another of myriad vistas the clouds, rain, & fog created.

Boats in harbors always call to Doug. He walked to the Seward Harbor twice.

Seward Harbor.

Marilyn accompanied Doug on his second visit to the harbor. We checked out all the various campsites along the bay, noting sites we'd love to be in. While at the harbor, we watched the weighing of a particularly large halibut.

Halibut was caught by a woman out on a fishing trip.

When we first arrived in Seward, a cruise ship loomed over the harbor, it's 8 stories (at least) dwarfing all the other craft.

Cruise ships arrive in the morning, disgorge passengers, & leave at night.

Carved bears near the harbor.

Tour boats and fishing boats went to and fro in the bay.

Two fishing boats returning to harbor as a tour boat heads out.

Along the bay path, Marilyn was glad to revisit the large stone Japanese lantern, a gift to Seward from Obijiro, Japan, and Brotherly Love Park and Memorial Garden.

Obihiro, Japan, is a sister city of Seward.

The memorial garden is planted in poppies.

Poppies symbolize remembrance...

...sleep...

...dreams...

...imagination...

...peace.

Deciding we needed a treat, we went out to dinner in downtown Seward one night.

Downtown Seward from 2nd floor of restaurant.

Our routine is usually to find a coffee shop in the morning and relax. We were not disappointed by the Sea Bean: pleasant staff, good coffee, and though the rain and fog made for great views, it was nice to get out of the cold and relax in a warm place.

Our morning hangout.

Looking out 18-mile-long Resurrection Bay from our downtown campsite.

Resurrection Bay is 18 miles long; its maximum width is 5 miles

Another amazing view from our downtown campsite on the water.

The fog continually dropped & lifted.

As with everywhere on our 2022 trip, we left Seward reluctantly and head back north to Anchorage.

Fireweed & fog along Upper Trail Lake, north of Moose Pass.

Rain flooded the land along the roads, here near the south end of Turnagain Arm, with the Chugach Mountains as backdrop.

Driving north along Turnagain Arm toward Anchorage.

After a night back at the military base family camp north of Anchorage to do laundry, we'd head to Lazy Mountain, near Palmer. It's where Marilyn's brother-in-law David grew up and where his sister and her husband now live. They were great hosts: gave us a flat spot to park near their house, cooked an amazing salmon meal, and shared many stories of living and working in Alaska.

More Fall Happenings

Sun, 04 Dec 2022 05:27:00 +0200

December 2, 2022 - Bravo Lake Redux

Remember our outing to Bravo Lake Botanical Garden? In the mail today we received a thank you gift from Linda, our Montana friend who accompanied us on the outing: our very own Lady Bug Crossing, just like the one in Peter Rabbit's Garden!

Lady Bug Crossing in our garden.

Lady Bug Crossing in Peter Rabbit's Garden.

November Birthday Celebration in Monterey

It's about a 3-1/2 drive from home to Monterey. We took the scenic route coming home.

For the past several years, our granddaughter in Davis has celebrated her birthday in Monterey. Her dad has a conference, so they make it a family weekend. This year we joined in!

On the drive over from the Central Valley, after we left I-5, we were in the coastal agricultural area. Fall harvest was in full swing.

Farmworkers picking lettuce.

Farmworker bus & portapotties.

Field of Brussels sprouts after picking.

Melon field after picking.

New row crops being irrigated.

Rich soil readied for planting as far as the eye can see.

Fennel.

Classic barn. Note white farmworker bus.

Agriculture mosaic.

We arrived in Monterey in time for lunch with the Davis crew: Marilyn's older son, Andrew, wife Emily, and children, Leah and Hudson.

The kids stayed near the wharf & we stayed in a hotel on the Presidio, a working Army base & home to the Defense Language School.

We spent both afternoons at the beach in Carmel.

The weather was spectacular!

Carmel Beach City Park: Andrew, Hudson (7), Leah (9), Em, & Marilyn (in pink fleece). Where is she going???

We walked the beach, waded in the water, looked for shells, skipped stones in the ocean, built slides in the sand, and played lots of football.

Hudson charges Andrew as he hands the ball off to Leah.

Going out for the pass from Dad.

Even Grandma Moo (Marilyn) got in on the action, teaming up with Hudson & Emily against Andrew & Leah. I don't think we succeeded in blocking the pass from Leah to her dad.

Us.

It was an easy walk to eating spots: Mexican, followed by ice cream, for Leah's birthday, deli and Italian on Saturday, crepes Sunday morning.

Leah & Emily.

The grace of pelicans in flight.

Before heading home, we checked out Cannery Row. It'd been years since we'd been to Monterey, and we had to pay homage to Steinbeck and his wonderful characters.

Pacific Biological Laboratories, owned by Ed Ricketts, on whom Steinbeck based Doc in Cannery Row.

The back of the lab opened onto Monterey Bay--the tide was out when this picture was taken. Concrete holding tanks were for specimens.

The Bear Flag was where Mac & the Boys congregated.

Cannery Row got its name from the sardine canning factories that cropped up at start of the 20th century. In 1948, the industry crashed because, as Ed Ricketts said, all the sardines were in cans.

Fish hopper for transferring sardines from boats to canneries.

Pilings from former piers.

Native Americans were the original inhabitants of Monterey. It became a port in the early 1800s and began to draw immigrants from around the world.

Each immigrant community had its own area of town, with housing such as these shacks on Cannery Row.

Monterey Bay Aquarium, opened in 1984, occupies a former cannery at one end of Cannery Row.

A monument to Cannery Row's history was installed in 2014. Along with Steinbeck and Ricketts, it honors Native Americans, and Monterey's generations of immigrants, among them Chinese, Italian, Portuguese, Mexican, Filipino, Norwegian, Scottish, and Japanese.

John Steinbeck, top. Ed Ricketts, bottom.

Before the sardine canneries, in the 1850s, shore whaling bases were established at numerous locations along the California coast, including at Monterey Bay. Many were operated by Portuguese immigrants, most of whom were natives of the Azores.

Mural depicting Portuguese shore whalers.

From Cannery Row we drove the coastline around Pacific Grove.

Pacific Grove.

Then we headed home through Carmel Valley and Priest Valley.

Fall vineyard colors.

Clouds, hills, vineyards, iconic live oak.

Ranch in the brown landscape of California's ongoing drought.

Beehives will be moved to fields & orchards come spring. We were now in the area of California's infamous San Andreas Fault.

Herd of buffalo near Coalinga.

Numerous pumpjacks dot the landscape around Coalinga.

Cotton being harvested.

A cotton picker dumps its load into a press which will compress & shape the cotton into a giant rectangle before it is taken to the cotton gin, where the cotton seeds are removed.

Doug, Monterey.

Thanksgiving
We had a Friendsgiving on Thanksgiving Day. A neighbor's 6-year-old brought energy to share.

Our backyard mandarin tree (or tangelo, not sure which) produced a real crop after many years, which we enjoyed for breakfast & snacks.

The next day we drove the van to Davis, where we met the newest member of the Davis family, Olive.

Grandson Hudson & Olive.

Granddaughter Leah & Olive.

Twenty of us gathered at Andrew and Emily's home, including Marilyn's younger son Stephen and wife Jessie and Emily's family. The 7 cousins, ranging in age from 5 to 14, had a ball.

Stephen & Andrew solving the world's problems while Hudson kicks a soccer ball around & awaits the arrival of his only male cousin.

Nothing like good conversation--especially outside.

Heading through the back yard gate to Davis's city-wide Green Belt, of paths, playing fields, & playgrounds.

Stephen & Doug discuss over Andrew's famous Old Fashioneds.

Jessie chatting with Emily.

Everyone packed up to head home. But first...

...we had to wait for the local wild turkeys to vacate the street.

A Fall Outing

Fri, 11 Nov 2022 02:19:00 +0200

October 29, 2022

Doug had heard that the roses were in bloom at Bravo Lake, so being a beautiful fall day, it seemed a good time to get out and tour the countryside.

Bravo Lake in Woodlake, a lovely location with the Sierra Nevada foothills as backdrop.

Plus, our friend Linda was visiting. Doug and Linda have been friends since high school, and he'd visited her in Montana in September. We agreed that Bravo Lake would be a perfect outing, so soon we were heading to nearby Woodlake, about 30 minutes from home.

But first was a stop at Lowe's to splurge on a new pot for the re-landscaped area around our new hot tub (to read about that go here).

New pot for our back yard.

Like many, we enjoy the 3.3-mile walk around Bravo Lake.

Bravo Lake & Botanical Garden Trails.

The lake has been full when we've walked it in the past, but it was quite low when Doug and a friend walked around it in June.

Ducks on the lake in June. The trail is the white line on the levee.

Now, the lake consisted of only a couple puddles. The years-long drought has taken a toll on all of California's lakes and reservoirs.

Bravo Lake Botanical Garden entrance.

The parking lot at Bravo Lake was bordered by hundreds of blooming roses. The trail through Bravo Lake Botanical Garden begins just inside the gate. Along the trail, thousands more roses bloomed.

Roses of all colors were in bloom.

Olga and Manuel Jimenez, residents of Woodlake, have the philosophy that you can grow kids by planting gardens. In 1972, the couple began creating beautification projects and community gardens around Woodlake, with the help of youth volunteers.

In 1999, the City of Woodlake used a Rails-to-Trails Grant to purchase the former Visalia Electric Railroad right-of-way on the north side of Bravo Lake. They asked the Jimenezes if they'd apply their knowledge and skills to beautifying the barren strip of land.

Manuel and Olga put their expertise and creativity to work. With the help of youth volunteers and donations of plants, money, and the skills and labor of local professionals, in just four years, they created Bravo Lake Botanical Garden.

Just inside entrance gate. Note that all watering is done with drip irrigation.

The 2.4-mile roundtrip trail through the garden allows visitors to experience up-close flowers, row crops, and fruit and citrus trees, along with whimsical sculptures.

Bucket waterfall sculpture.

There were hundreds of sunflowers in bloom in varying heights, sizes, and colors.

In some areas, sunflowers play backdrop to other plants.

Cosmos & sunflowers, many of which are turned toward the sun. Hence the French name, tourne-sol--turned to the sun.

Linda (blue shirt) getting close-up photos.

Doug waiting while Linda & Marilyn take photos.

As with the majority of the San Joaquin Valley, the area around Bravo Lake was once home to Yokut and Wutchumna Indians, as well as elk and antelope.

"My house is your house." Linda & Doug.

Once called Wood Lake, lore has it that the name Bravo came about when two local men were arguing, as was their habit, near the lake. Another local passing by told them to settle their dispute once and for all, making his point with a six shooter. The dispute devolved into a fight. As it went on, a crowd gathered, yelling, "Bravo!" each time a punch was landed. A victor was eventually declared, the two men cleaned up in the lake and became friends ever after, and the lake received a new name.

Unknown sprouted leafy greens & artichokes (middle right of photo) in vegetable plot behind some roses.

Closeup of above plant.

Side paths branch off from the trail, good for examining plants up close (and if you are too far from the bathroom).

One of several varieties of eggplant.

Peppers.

We sampled apples & citrus, both familiar & unfamiliar varieties.

Typical wind machine with 20'-long propeller blades used to move the air in citrus groves when temperatures fall too low.

Marigolds.

Farm cart with display of old equipment.

Don't know what it is, but it's sure pretty.

The disks were spinning like crazy!

Marilyn stooped to enter Peter Rabbit's Garden through the vine-covered child-size arch.

Jemima Puddle Duck.

Peter having a siesta under the tractor-seat bench.

Gaillardia, aka Blanket Flower.

Windmill above zinnias.

Cockscomb, we think.

Near the end of the trail is a park area. At trail's end is a California native plant garden.

Zinnia & windmill shadows.

Drip irrigation allows farming on hillsides, such as those on the other side of Woodlake.

"Leave the earth better than when you arrived."

We meandered about a bit on the way home. South of Woodlake, we crossed the St John's River, a tributary of the Kaweah River. Both used to flow into Tulare Lake, but that's another entire story.

Our route going took us to Lowe's, through Ivanhoe, to Woodlake. We meandered our way home.

We headed west to show Linda the huge Monrovia Nursery north of Visalia.

Monrovia Nursery, just north of Visalia.

Image capture May 2015.

Continuing west, we crossed the St. John's again to go to the site of the Charter Oak/Election Tree.

1942 photo of Charter/Election Tree.

A plaque marks where the huge oak once stood.

Plaque at site of Charter Oak.
Photo by Michael Kindig, May 22, 2011.

It was under the tree in 1852 that Tulare County was organized.
From the Charter Oak, we crossed the St John's one last time on our way south to 198, which took us home.

Ahhh...another splendid day in our wonderful region.

A Lovely Addition

Thu, 03 Nov 2022 06:17:00 +0200

After talking about it for years, this September we bit the bullet and ordered a hot tub. We could even imagine using it since the heat was finally dissipating. But before it looked like the photo below, there was a bit of work to do.

New hot tub & walkway.

First was pulling up the the 4' x 4' raised bed frame and digging up the dirt.

Raised bed frame leaning against fence.

Doug hauled wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of dirt to the front yard, where it would become a mound.

Mound in the making in the front yard.

But the more he took out the more there was!

So much dirt hauled out & so much still to remove!

Red trowel handle marks sprinkler line to cap off.

A sprinkler line had to be moved--eventually we moved it at least three times--The walkway of pavers had to be dug up.

Pavers from walkway piled up.

Doug dug a trench for the electrical, but it needed to be further back, so he dug another trench. Did I say the dirt was not only hard packed but full of roots?

1st ditch for electrical had to be filled in. 2nd soaking in water so it can be dug.

David, the electrician, sawed out a section of concrete to lay the electrical across to the tub.

Concrete section removed & ditch dug for electrical.

David crawled through the attic with wiring from the breaker box to the other end of the house, where he installed a new breaker box dedicated to the hot tub.

New breaker box for hot tub.

Then we waited for the city permit and inspector. Since the inspector loved David's electrical work, we passed and smiled.
Now for the concrete! Robert and and his amazing crew put in the framing.

Left: raised beds awaiting new plants. Right: framing in place for concrete pad.

The next day, they poured the concrete.

Robert & his crew kept Doug in stitches the entire time they were working.

They even stamped a pattern into the concrete.

Stamped pattern keeps concrete from being slippery.

The electrical in and concrete set, it was time for the hot tub! When the delivery truck arrived, the jovial driver unexpectedly offered to help us move the hot tub from the street to the backyard pad. Since David also happened to be there, together with Doug, they maneuvered the tub in to place.

Doug watches as the driver & David roll the hot tub down the narrow walkway.

Driver, Doug, David. A main criteria for the hot tub was a lounge seat, which is on the side by the driver.

Preparing to lower the hot tub.

Voila!

By a couple of days later, the tub was wired and the pump primed. Marilyn was ready to cool off!

Marilyn performs first float in the new hot tub, cooling off before the water gets hot.

But there was more work to do, starting with a new walkway. We bought new pavers that blended with the old.

New pavers & 300 lbs of decomposed granite (DG) & sand in the trusty VW Westy. In all, we made 5 trips.

Buckets of sand for installing new pavers.

Doug began to solve the Tetrus puzzle--leveling, adding sand, organizing pavers, filling in with DG.

Starting to solve the Tetrus puzzle of pavers.

Once the pavers were in they were not right, so why not just remove them and start over?

Maybe the last rearrangement?

When Doug got the pavers perfect, he extended the walkway to run across the front of the raised beds.

Ta-da! New walkway, complete with DG. Note new plants in DG beyond end of walkway & pavers in front of raised bed.

Next was hanging "Big Red," Doug's old longboard.

Big Red hung. Sun moved to the right.

Next came the kayak paddle and canoe oar.

Kayak paddle, canoe oar, & Big Red.

Marilyn planted our garden in the raised beds: onions, brussels sprouts, and greens. In the upper bed we planted a Matilija Poppy, aka Fried Egg Poppy, Winifred Gilman Blue Sage, and Agastache, aka Hummingbird Mint. And the final touch, Marilyn reinstalled the drip irrigation.

Our new look.

Doug just got home from an overnight trip to the coast. Guess who is enjoying the tub in a mild rainstorm?

Canada-Alaska 2022: Anchorage

Wed, 19 Oct 2022 19:07:00 +0200

July 13-15, 18-19, 2022

On our 2017 trip we had just driven through Anchorage, so we wanted to spend time there this time. In an attempt to get to know the city we took a bus tour from the visitors center in downtown Anchorage. It wasn't terribly informative, but it gave us the lay of the land.

Alaska's growing season is short, but the days are so long, the plants are huge and the colors intense.

Anchorage is large, bigger than the state of Rhode Island, not surprising as Alaska is bigger than Texas, California, and Montana combined. Less than 1% of Alaska is inhabited, with about 50% of 737,000 Alaskans living in the Anchorage metropolitan area. Another 33,000 (5%) each live in Fairbanks and Juneau.

About 1,600 moose, about 300 black bears, and around 6o grizzly bears also live in Anchorage.

After our bus tour, we nixed the popular cafe with a line down the street, then stumbled on Cafe 817, at 817 6th Avenue. It was so good--and came with such entertaining chefs--that we had to have breakfast there again the next day.

Watering the lawn, Alaska Style.

Our wanderings took us to Kincaid Park Outdoor Center, which offers lessons in Nordic Ski, paddleboard, and archery, and has hosted national-level Nordic ski competitions.

Kincaid Park "chalet" also serves as an event center.

Near the chalet, we saw a sign for Tony Knowles Coastal Trail, so off we went. Soon we encountered many other walkers as well as bicyclists. And then we looked to the left of the trail and saw....

...a pair of moose near the trail.

At the end of the trail we found ourself above the beach at Turnagain Arm.

Along Turnagain Arm, looking south toward the Kenai Peninsula.

We walked and slid down to the rocky beach, where a group of children who'd biked there played and explored.

Looking North.

The rocky beach, just up from the famous tidal bore.

Turnagain Arm is famous for its tidal bore. Since surfers can ride it for miles, it can be viewed all along Turnagain Arm.

Turnagain Arm's bore tide can be viewed all along Hwy 1 to Seward, as well as from Hope, although the latter is a bit of a drive.

All the grays of the sky, water, sand, and rocks fascinated Marilyn.

Not Ansel Adams, but I do love this photo.

When not sneaking pictures of Marilyn, Doug relaxed. We found there was a lot more cell coverage this year than on previous trips.

If there's an REI around you must need something from it. The Anchorage REI is the IKEA of REIs.

The Anchorage REI is gigantic!

Air museums and boat harbors are also required visits on our trips. The Alaska Aviation Museum is located on Lake Hood next to Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport, advertised to be the busiest seaplane base in the world.

It was rather enjoyable seeing all of the float planes that were used in the Alaska Frontier. Yes, I was a bit envious.

In the restoration hanger was this amazing bird.

For those who remember the TV series Sky King, here is a similar bird on floats.

Only in aviation: a sign over the toilet in the men's restroom.

Not all birds are flyable. Above a 1943 PBY 5A Catalina. Sign near said it was on the schedule to be restored. We can only hope.

The engine from the first airplane to circumnavigate earth. In 1924, 4 Douglas World Cruisers and 8 pilots left Seattle. 174 days later, 2 returned.

Helo used for search and rescue in the '50s.

Curious what this is? I was. Finally asked and was told that for birds that do not have wheels on their floats, the long boom in front of the truck goes under the floats of the bird and picks it up.

From the museum, we headed around Lake Hood to check out the plethora of private planes. In Alaska, you get the harbor and planes all in one, since so many planes are adapted with pontoons for takes-offs and landings on water. Some are changed out to skis when winter comes.

So many small birds we saw looked like this: no pontoons but really large wheels so they could land on gravel bars.

The harbor is circled with boats at their dock. Was told there is a 7 year wait to get a dock. Imagine the joy: park your car on the grass, get in your bird, and fly to another lake.

Each time I've seen a float plane on our trips to Alaska, I've asked myself why I did not move to Alaska when I got home from SE Asia in '72. Guess the lure of living on the beach in San Diego was just too strong.

On both trips to Alaska, we've stayed at the family camp just north of Anchorage at Elmendorf Air Force Base. Doug's 20 years in the Navy allows us access to these military campgrounds.

Jet at Elmendorf AFB.

This old helo, also seen at the Air Museum, was used for Search And Rescue in the 50's.

The Family Camp is comfortable, quiet, and comes with showers and laundry facilities. As we do not require hookups, we were able to camp in a tent site--same size as the others and about a third of the price.

Previously we'd seen bears wander through the campground. Doug caught sight of a moose down the street on this trip.

From Anchorage, we headed south to Seward on the Kenai Peninsula. We'd visited in 2017, and wanted to experience it again.

Heading from Anchorage to the Kenai Peninsula, with the Chugach Mountains as backdrop.

The tide was in on Turnagain Arm as we were off to Seward and another experience.

Canada-Alaska 2022: Boondocking on the Top of the World Highway

Sun, 04 Sep 2022 02:30:00 +0200

July 2, 2022

We left Tombstone Mountain Campground after three days, showered in Dawson City, took the free ferry across the Yukon River, and were headed up the Top of the World Highway. We'd driven it the opposite direction in 2017.
The views are breathtaking. It truly feels like being on top of the world. Hopefully the pictures will convey a sense of that feeling.

The road is well groomed dirt.

A bit dusty but we kept away unless they were going slow.

Like the Dempster Highway, we could see the road far into the distance.

Cloud formations & the shadows they cast made for ever-changing sky and scenery.

Depending on the weather, the Top of the World Hwy is open from mid-May to mid-October.

Top of the World Hwy rises to 4,515 feet.

90 minutes after disembarking the ferry, we were at the Yukon-Alaska border.

You have to time your arrival at the border, as it is open 9 to 9 Yukon time, which is 8 to 8 Alaska time.

Doug had heard of a great boondocking spot in Alaska shortly after the border crossing. We rejected a couple of pull-outs, then came to a large gravel pit hidden from the road.

The surroundings were awing, silent, expansive.

Looking out from our boondocking spot in a gravel pit along the Top of the World Highway.

At the other end of the gravel pit a group with ATVs was already camped. So many activities are possible at all hours when daylight is nearly 24 hours!

10:45 PM

11:40 PM

11:55 PM

3:00 AM

The next morning we'd continue on Alaska's Taylor Hwy to Eagle then Chicken.

Canada 2022: Klondike Loop 6 - Tombstone Mountain Territorial Park

Wed, 24 Aug 2022 19:20:00 +0200

June 30-July 2, 2022

As we drove through Tombstone Territorial Park four hours after leaving the Arctic Circle, we realized this was the most spectacular scenery we'd seen on the Dempster Highway.

The Dempster Highway runs through Tombstone Territorial Park beginning 153 miles south of the Arctic Circle.

We'd opted not to drive the 300 miles from the Arctic Circle to the Arctic Ocean. It'd be at least 7 hours of additional driving, and the threat of a tire problem was ever present. Dancing with mosquitoes while changing a flat? No, thank you.

We drove to the Arctic Circle on the Dempster Hwy. Returning south, we stopped at Tombstone Campground.

How many times would I say breathtaking on this trip? I now have a complete understanding of the word, the feeling of having my breath literally pulled from my lungs as I gaze in awe.

Despite the haze from wildfires to the west, Tombstone was breathtaking.

Tombtone Mountains

It was a no brainer to check out Tombstone Campground, set on the North Klondike River, at 3,400 feet. Our site was right on the banks of the river.

Is there anything like the sound of rushing water?

You might say we were relaxed.

As Doug says, on our first trip to Alaska, in 2017, we felt the need to get from place to place, because we had no idea what we'd encounter or how long it would take. This time, if we liked a place, we stayed longer.

Tombstone Mountains

Tombstone one such place. We'd wake up, look outside, look at each other, and say, "Let's stay another day."

Backdrop to campground.

Since the river was too fast-moving to go into, several times a day I dipped a bucket into it and poured the water over my head. So invigorating!

Doug applying Deet lotion. An intermittent breeze swept mosquitoes away, but when it died down, they'd return to feast on us.

Coming down the Dempster, Doug stopped multiple times for me to take wildflower pictures. How was I to know we'd find them growing all over the campground?

Prickly Rose.

Dwarf Raspberry. Northern Goldenrod.

Northern Monkshood. Shrubby Cinquefoil.

Fireweed. Labrador Tea.

Tall Lungwort/Bluebells. Mountain Avens.

While I happily traipsed about taking pictures, Doug was hard at work attempting to cut the layers of dirt the Dempster had thrown at the van.

At least we hoped less dirt would end up inside the van.

The rangers at Tombstone Interpretive Center confirmed from our pictures that it was in fact musk ox we'd seen crossing the Dempster south of the Arctic Circle.

Tombstone Interpretive Center

The musk ox skull made us glad we hadn't had an in-person encounter.

The ptarmigan was interesting, in part because we'd be going to Chicken, Alaska, so named because no one could spell the intended name of ptarmigan.

Does a ptarmigan look like a chicken?

We picked up free activity books at the interpretive center for our grandchildren and gave some to two young girls we'd met in the campground along with their mom. They were driving to the Arctic Ocean in a rental camper.

Mom and daughters were just delightful. They were headed to the Arctic Ocean in a rental RV. The people we meet so enhance our travels!

With the wildfire smoke somewhat dissipated on the second day, we drove back to the Tombstone Range Viewpoint.

With less smoke, we could see much further into the distance of the Tombstone Range.

The Tombstone Range rises to 7,200 feet, with sharp peaks, glaciers, mountain meadows, icy lakes. It's easy to see why the Hän and Gwich'in call the area Among Ragged-Peaked Mountains.
We finally decided we should head back to Dawson City. Remember we decided not to go to the Arctic Ocean partly due to the ongoing possibility of a tire problem? Well, there's also always the potential for a damaged windshield, and sure enough, in the last 44-mile stretch of our 554-mile round trip on the dirt Dempster Highway, a big rig barreling toward us going north threw up a rock that hit the windshield.

It's a nice spider, don't you think?

As Doug said, now we had a real Yukon-Alaska vehicle!
Back in Dawson, we'd shower, then take the free ferry across the Yukon to the Top of the World Highway.

Canada-Alaska 2022: Oh, the Places We've Been!

Sat, 20 Aug 2022 18:14:00 +0200

By the end of July, we'd been on the road six weeks in the Yukon Territory and Alaska. Doug had driven 6,200 miles, and we'd driven 3,100 miles together. It seemed it'd be good to post a map of our route.

But our posts always lag behind our travels, and though we started to create the maps, relaxing and exploring always take precedence.

Finally, here are the maps and related posts. As we add posts, we'll link them to this maps in this post.

2022 Trip through Canada & Alaska

Part 1: Visalia, CA. Seattle & Bellingham, WA.

Whistler & Dawson Creek, British Columbia.

Whitehorse, Yukon Teritory.

Posts:

• California-Whitehorse via Washington & British Columbia

• Millions of Critters

Part 2: Whitehorse, Dawson City, & Dempster Highway, YT.

Top of the World Highway. Eagle & Chicken, AK

Posts:

• Klondike Loop 1: Whitehorse to Dawson City

• Klondike Loop 2: Dawson City

• Klondike Loop 3: Dawson City Museum

• Klondike Loop 4: The Bard of the North

• Klondike Loop 5: Dempster Hwy to the Arctic Circle

• Dirt, Mosquitoes, Spiders, & the Arctic Circle

Part 3: Alaska: North Pole, Fairbanks, Nenana, Talkeetna, Anchorage, Seward, Palmer, Matanuska Glacier.

Part 4: Valdez & McCarthy-Kennicott, AK.

Whitehorse, YT. Skagway, AK.

Posts:

• More Spectacular Boondocking

Check back here for more posts linked to the maps. Thanks, as always, for following us!

Canada 2022: What's In A Name?

Wed, 17 Aug 2022 02:09:00 +0200

A few thoughts from Doug, on the road in Canada's Saskatchewan Province.

Suppose Maverick is a maverick? Wonder what party s/he represents and what the election is.

Wild Lily, a dirt road about 80 miles south of Saskatoon. Wish I had met her and heard her story.

We have Buena Vista, so guess Bonnie View is not too much of a stretch.

Elbow...perhaps because the river makes a bend?

But Eyebrow--another thought provoking name.

And just one of so many: A house with the roof falling in. What a story it could tell....

More thoughts as I drive....