If you're wondering where your sun is after your late evening summer dinner, don't worry, we're keeping a watchful eye on it. Now are the days of 24-hour light, where the sun only skims below the horizon for a few hours then pops back up (below dipping into the cool waters of the Cook Inlet a few weeks back).
Unfortunately, the discontent around town, nay the state, is centered around our unseasonably cloudy/cool weather. You may recall (and if not you can just scroll down) that last June, as is normally the fashion, was very sunny and warm. But this June I'd say we've had maybe four or five days of what could be qualified as glorious Alaskan summer weather, and there is much wailing and gnashing of teeth from the locals! As you may know, we have VERY short summers, and we need some gettin' while the gettin' is good. The two feet of snow in one day in April really blew things up and set back spring a week or two, and summer hasn't gotten out of the starting gate. PRAY for July!!! For believe it or not, the winds start to change by mid-August.
But when, as a wise man once said, "the gettin' is good", you better get out there! Following is a hodgepodge of trips over the last couple weeks. Even with the sketchy weather I've managed to get in 5 nights of camping all around Southcentral Alaska and the Kenai. Yeah, that's right homey...I live in Southcentral.
Below is the Hope Highway, which splits off from the Seward Highway down on the Kenai Peninsula, and goes along the other side of the now famous Turnagain Arm on the Kenai side. I like dirt roads, gravel roads, two-lane highways...but the best road of all?
Open road.
Not surprisingly, the Hope Highway ends in a little town...called Hope. (Guess where the Seward Highway, which starts in Anchorage, ends?) But I'd venture a guess the residents of this Hope haven't cast too many votes for any Clintons - in fact Alaska has voted for exactly one Democratic Presidential candidate since statehood - LBJ.
The Seaview Cafe in Hope is kind of a landmark (opened in 1896 - a remnant of the Alaskan Gold Rush) and I regret not eating there, as I was there at exactly lunchtime and instead opted for a sandwich out of my cooler. I was on the way back from camping for the first time this year and had a little "Essence of Campfire" cologne going on and thought I would spare the other patrons. But upon further reflection, the ONLY business this place would get would be campers, hikers, and off-road-vehicle enthusiasts so I'm sure it's "come as you are".
Of course, even outdoor activities are coming at more of a premium these days:
YEEEEEEE-OUCH!!! That's in Cantwell, AK - on the way to Denali NP and points north (and two weeks ago - I'm sure it's MUCH higher now). It's the most expensive gas I've personally seen, but I promise you it's even higher out the Bush. Right here in Anchorage it was $4.09 three weeks ago, and is now $4.39. Ummmmmmm - can anyone explain that to me? Until this recent oil debacle we had about the same price as St. Louis, which to my knowledge is now 40-50 cents less per gallon? And we PRODUCE oil up here!!! Come on!!!
But, there nothing you can do about it, so what does it matter? What can I do? Not sightsee? Not hike? Not camp? Why don't I just move to Kansas?
Up at Byer Lake in Denali STATE Park (which is huge and absolutely gorgeous, and adjacent to but completely distinct from Denali National Park) I got to try out my new MSR Whisperlite backpacking stove. AWESOME!!! It's just a tiny little single-burner stove that runs off a white gas fuel canister, and it gets the job done! I must say, like most backpacking stoves, it doesn't "simmer" so well, but I made one of those little box o' pasta dishes which go for 10 minutes, and I just held the pot a bit above the flame for the last 4 minutes, and it turned out brilliant.
I also took a trip out to Lake Louise (the Alaska one, not the Banff one), which was quite nice. When I got there it was sunny, then a thunderstorm rolled in, including hail, and I sat in the back of my truck under the protection of the tailgate for nearly an hour and a half. As long as you're under cover, sitting out in the rain is actually quite nice - especially with a brat on the grill and an ice cold beer. Kind of reminded me of sitting out on my grandparents covered back porch in the rain back Cincinnati as a kid - and getting a sip of Poppy's beer (my grandfather).
But later on the rain moved out, and things got ultra-peaceful. One of the great things about Lake Louise is it is 17 miles off the highway - leading to PURE SILENCE from unnatural sources at night. As I sat enjoying the already brightening skies well after midnight in anticipation of the 4-something a.m. dawn, the only sound was that of the birds around the lake. The military had a retreat there prior to statehood, and Eisenhower himself stayed there in 1947. He was slated to stay only one night, but spent four, because, as one of his aides noted in his journal, it was too peaceful to pass up, with only the sound of the loon carrying across the lake. 60 years later...damn right.
As mentioned, I got gas in Cantwell on the road to Denali NP, but instead of going to Denali I did a loop over the Denali Highway running from Cantwell to Paxson (Denali was, like many places, suffering the ills of a late spring - including the unexpected closure of the major Teklanika Campground due to inches of ice covering the campground and all structures) . The Denali highway is mentioned in my original roadtrip blog as a wonderful place stumbled upon during my trip here in 2006 - a 135 mile highway, 120 of which is not paved. It was originally the only road to Denali NP when the park opened, but now is an kind of a secret gem.
Oh, and speaking of peace? How 'bout the Denali Highway? I maybe passed a dozen cars in the 4+ hours I was out there. And I pulled over several times and shut off the car to enjoy the pure silence, which as you know is VERY hard to find in the modern world. Even up here a lot of the time when you go out to travel around on our few roads, you're often not very far from that road without having access to an ATV or floatplane. The Denali Highway - talk about wide open spaces...and open road.
The western half of the Denali Highway was green, but the eastern half, toward what we call the "Interior"...not so much. The below is at MacLaren summit, the second highest road in Alaska at 4086 feet. Can you believe that? 4086? The highest road is at Atigun Pass up on the Dalton, at 4739 feet. Picture the second highest road at 4086, with the tallest North American peak not far off. Then again, Denali, at 20,320 feet, has a larger "vertical relief" than Everest because while the base of Everest sits at 17,000 feet (with a peak of about 29,000 feet), the base of Denali is at a scant 2000 feet. You do the math (seriously, because those who can do math go to med school - I went to law school).
And along the way, this rotund little fellow popped out to take a look. Click to enlarge, and check out those beady little eyes, and major claws. I'm logging this as a beaver, as the Denali Highway is a land o' lakes, and it is definitely not a porcupine (and to my knowledge the only other option is a hoary marmot, affectionately known by some as "monkey krugle"). If you have further identification information, please share.
Did I mention on the eastern half of the Denali Highway it is not exactly spring?
If you still don't believe we're having a funky summer, how 'bout a picture from my trip here in the first week of August 2006:
As compared to a picture from a different angle of the exact same spot from the second week of June 2008 (note the brownish mountain in the foreground to get your bearings):
I'm not sure how the wildlife up there makes it when things are so late - there was even still a layer of ice on many of the lakes. I guess a lot of the wilflife doesn't make it.
On a completely separate note, I also hiked up a local mountain called Flat Top on one of the handful of sunny days, which was nice but also completely kicked my butt. Can you guess why it's called Flat Top?
It had its top sheared off by a glacier long ago, and doesn't really look that far up. All in all it's 1300 feet of elevation gain in 1.5 miles one-way.
The western half of the Denali Highway was green, but the eastern half, toward what we call the "Interior"...not so much. The below is at MacLaren summit, the second highest road in Alaska at 4086 feet. Can you believe that? 4086? The highest road is at Atigun Pass up on the Dalton, at 4739 feet. Picture the second highest road at 4086, with the tallest North American peak not far off. Then again, Denali, at 20,320 feet, has a larger "vertical relief" than Everest because while the base of Everest sits at 17,000 feet (with a peak of about 29,000 feet), the base of Denali is at a scant 2000 feet. You do the math (seriously, because those who can do math go to med school - I went to law school).
And along the way, this rotund little fellow popped out to take a look. Click to enlarge, and check out those beady little eyes, and major claws. I'm logging this as a beaver, as the Denali Highway is a land o' lakes, and it is definitely not a porcupine (and to my knowledge the only other option is a hoary marmot, affectionately known by some as "monkey krugle"). If you have further identification information, please share.
Did I mention on the eastern half of the Denali Highway it is not exactly spring?
If you still don't believe we're having a funky summer, how 'bout a picture from my trip here in the first week of August 2006:
As compared to a picture from a different angle of the exact same spot from the second week of June 2008 (note the brownish mountain in the foreground to get your bearings):
I'm not sure how the wildlife up there makes it when things are so late - there was even still a layer of ice on many of the lakes. I guess a lot of the wilflife doesn't make it.
On a completely separate note, I also hiked up a local mountain called Flat Top on one of the handful of sunny days, which was nice but also completely kicked my butt. Can you guess why it's called Flat Top?
It had its top sheared off by a glacier long ago, and doesn't really look that far up. All in all it's 1300 feet of elevation gain in 1.5 miles one-way.
After hitting the first of two "saddles", it doesn't look that much farther, but then again there's a dude standing up there below the arrow, and when you can barely see the dude, you still have a long way to go! The actual trail is that little brown stripe in the snow at the bottom right - and there shouldn't be snow there at this point in the year, as there was at four points on the trail:
On the first part of the way up, life is good, as are the views. I have hiked many times in that nice green valley below:
As anyone who hikes over rough terrain knows, the trek down is less huff-n-puff, but is still hard on the knees & quads. You could always go the "glissade" route and slide down like these nutjobs, but I wouldn't!
When you get passed the second "saddle", it gets a little rocky. Well, to be honest, it couldn't be more rocky if Burgess Meredith was at the peak yelling down at you that Flat Top is a wreckin' machine, and you can't win, Rock!!!
For "scale", there are at least 6 people visible in the above picture.
But seriously, it looks kind of imposing, right? If you scroll back up to the "Can you guess why it's called Flat Top" picture, this is between the big snow field at the right and the little snow stripe in the middle. I'll admit it's a little scary, especially going up the first time because you're trying to pick the best/safest route but can't really see very far above you. It's steep enough that you need to get a secure hold with both your feet and hands. Next time I think I'll be a little less nervous about falling (which people do).
It's a workout getting up there, and you need to exercise "extreme caution" as the sign at the top said. But it's well worth it for the views. Wouldn't you agree?
On the first part of the way up, life is good, as are the views. I have hiked many times in that nice green valley below:
As anyone who hikes over rough terrain knows, the trek down is less huff-n-puff, but is still hard on the knees & quads. You could always go the "glissade" route and slide down like these nutjobs, but I wouldn't!
When you get passed the second "saddle", it gets a little rocky. Well, to be honest, it couldn't be more rocky if Burgess Meredith was at the peak yelling down at you that Flat Top is a wreckin' machine, and you can't win, Rock!!!
For "scale", there are at least 6 people visible in the above picture.
But seriously, it looks kind of imposing, right? If you scroll back up to the "Can you guess why it's called Flat Top" picture, this is between the big snow field at the right and the little snow stripe in the middle. I'll admit it's a little scary, especially going up the first time because you're trying to pick the best/safest route but can't really see very far above you. It's steep enough that you need to get a secure hold with both your feet and hands. Next time I think I'll be a little less nervous about falling (which people do).
The top of Flat Top was much bigger than I thought, and quite spectacular! Here is just one of the 360 degree views, with an orange-shirt clad fellow hiker on the point for scale:
It's a workout getting up there, and you need to exercise "extreme caution" as the sign at the top said. But it's well worth it for the views. Wouldn't you agree?
