Judy took Seth and me to the airport. Our flight took off around 9:00 in the morning, and it was a long flight (5½ hours), but at least Sun Country had a direct flight to Anchorage. Most of it was uneventful, although during the first hour of the flight, there was a good half-hour of turbulence. I felt fine, but Seth felt nauseous. Once the turbulence stopped, he felt better. We were served cheeseburgers during the flight, and in an era where rising fuel costs mean that you have to pay for food on flights now, being served a complimentary hot sandwich was nice.

            We arrived in Anchorage around 11:20 a.m. local time (2:20 p.m. back in MN), and once off the plane, headed to baggage claim.  We met up with Lucie (my aunt) and Betty Anne (Lucie’s long-time roommate), and wow, it was great to see them again. I don’t ever remember meeting Betty Anne, and it’s been two years since I’ve seen Lucie. They’ve both had exciting lives full of travel, though they’ve lived in Alaska for the past 25-30 years, but they are still adventurous. Seth and I picked up our bags, admired the variety of stuffed wildlife adorning the airport’s north terminal walls, including the world’s largest caught halibut, and then we went on our merry way.

            Our plane had flown over Alaska’s mountains, but we didn’t realize how close those mountains were to Anchorage and other cities. They were merely off in the distance a ways, and they were huge. Clouds obscured the peaks of some of them, but they were gorgeous.

            Lucie and Betty Anne took us to the Long Branch Saloon, located on the outskirts of Anchorage, for lunch. The Saloon was very much like your local, small-town, pole-shed-like bar, but their food was good. Seth and I split a Mushroom Swiss burger, and we each had a pint of an Alaskan Ale (Alaskan Amber for me, Alaskan Summer for Seth). When we all were first served our beers, Betty Anne toasted the two of us when we raised our glasses, exclaiming “Welcome to Alaska!” I could think of no better way to start out our trip.

            On our way to Wasilla, where Lucie and Betty Anne live, just an hour north of Anchorage, we stopped in Eklutna to view a Russian Orthodox cemetery. This cemetery, only one of maybe four in the whole state, is different than most cemeteries. The graves are buried under small wooden shelters called “spirit houses” that are thought to house the spirit of the dead person for a year until the spirit moves on to the afterlife. Each spirit house is painted in bright colors representing their family’s clan or name. Some houses were simple, some were elaborate, and some only had rocks and blankets covering the graves if the family was too poor to build and paint a spirit house. Smaller houses usually denoted the bodies of infants or children that died, and a spirit house within another one symbolized a pregnant woman who died. Fences around a house symbolized a chief (many Native Americans in Alaska practice Russian Orthodoxy) or leader. These spirit houses were cool; I’d never seen anything like them before.

            Also on the cemetery property was the original Russian Orthodox church from the area—the oldest church in the state, dating back to the mid-to-late 1800s—and the new one. These churches have no benches or pews; congregants stand close together throughout the whole service, generating enough body heat to stay warm during the winter.

            Grandma Manka (my maternal grandmother), visited Lucie in Alaska back in the 1990s, and had seen this cemetery. She had found it very fascinating, just like I did. I’m glad I was able to visit a place she had visited a long time ago. I felt a sort of connection with her there.

            From the cemetery at Eklutna, we headed up to Wasilla, where we first stopped at the Iditarod Race Headquarters. The Iditarod is a sled dog race commemorating the mushers and dogs that transported the diphtheria serum from Seward to Nome to prevent the illness from wiping out the entire remote community of Nome back in 1925. We rode on a short trail in a sled cart led by dogs. Boy, those dogs go pretty fast, at least 20-30 mph, but we were probably going 10-20. We also held little Alaskan Husky puppies that would one day grow up to be strong, champion sled dogs. They were so cute and soft. A visitor’s center provided a video about the Iditarod. Did you know that it costs $1,850 to even enter the Iditarod? Wow!

            Next, we went into the circa 5,000 population city of Wasilla and toured the farmers’ market going on in the “Old Wasilla Town Site,” where Wasilla’s historic buildings are. We saw and walked into the town’s oldest schoolhouse, build in 1917. We also went to the Dorothy Page Museum, which contained historic artifacts of the city, pertaining to mining, settlers, the Alaskan gold rush, Native populations, and the Iditarod.

            Lucie and Betty Anne took us home after that. Their house, located seven miles outside of Wasilla, is nestled among many trees on ten across of land. Seth and I stayed in their old motor-home, where all their guests stay, which was a little like roughing it, I guess. They made us brats, baked beans, and grilled potatoes for supper, which we gladly washed down with a couple glasses of wine. Later on, Betty Anne took Seth and I out for a walk, and we enjoyed hearing stores of her and Lucie’s travel and work experiences.

 

            The sun was still shining when I went to bed last night around 11:00. In the summer, Alaska is the Land of Midnight Sun, as some extreme northern areas (i.e. north of the Arctic circle) experience 24 hours of sunlight. Lucie said that around the time of the summer solstice, Wasilla experiences only four hours of night each 24-hour period, and even then it’s not that dark—it’s more like dusk. The sun sets around 11:30-11:45 p.m. in Alaska around the summer solstice and rises again about 4:00 a.m. Unfortunately, the flip side of this is that during the wintertime around the winter solstice, Alaska only experiences four to no hours of sunlight. That would be hard for me. Nevertheless, it was very weird for me for the sun to still be up when I went to bed and be up for at least a couple hours when I got up in the morning.

            Seth and I, not completely used to the time difference, were up at 6:00 a.m. We went for a five-mile run around the area, then returned to the “main house” for a breakfast of sourdough pancakes topped with strawberries and sour cream, made by Lucie. Yum! After we all took showers and changed clothes, we set out for the day’s adventures.

            Lucie and Betty Anne ran a couple errands right away in the morning with Seth and me in tow. As we drove to the Matanuska-Susitna Valley (a.k.a. Mat-Su Valley) visitors’ center to pick up brochures and postcards, Betty Anne saw a moose off in the distance, so she pulled over so Seth and I could take pictures of the moose in the flats. We would see another one along the roadside later on in the day, and Betty pulled over once again so we could take pictures.

            After the visitors’ center, we went to The Reindeer Farm, located seven miles south of Palmer, AK, not too far from Wasilla. First, though, we drove past a house that had a sunken cabin in the yard. Half the house/cabin is below ground level to improve insulation and cut down on building costs. Seth and I had our picture taken in front of it, and it was weird standing in front of a house that was barely taller than I was.

            Anyway, back to The Reindeer Farm. Visitors to the farm got to feed and pet the reindeer, take pictures of and learn about them. The only difference between reindeer and caribou is that reindeer are domesticated and caribou are wild. At this point in the year, the reindeers’ antlers still had fur on them, but we were advised not to touch the antlers because the nerve endings in the fur, which they have until the fur is shed, make the antlers sensitive to touch. If you would have grabbed onto their furry antlers, it would have felt to them like it would feel having a car door slammed on your fingers.

            We fed the reindeer, a new experience for Seth and me. Reindeer, like cows, have no upper teeth and have similar digestive systems (e.g. they chew their own cud). As I fed the reindeer, the reindeer’s bottom row of teeth would graze my palm as he scooped up the food with it and his tongue, and I was left with a hand covered in reindeer slobber when the food was gone. And, most of the time, the reindeer would want another handful of food and would inch closer to me, nudging me with his nose or antlers, especially if I had turned my back on him (he’d then go for my butt!). I usually gave in and fed him again.

            Along with reindeer, we also saw horses, two moose, and a few elk. Both elk and reindeer had little calves in their respective pens. They were so little and cute. We could feed the elk grass, which we did, and one particular elk, Ernie, loved attention and having his picture taken. In the background off in the distance were the rolling green Chugach Mountains, but the cloudy day obscured the tops of the tallest peaks in the range, like Pioneer Peak. Oh well.

            From The Reindeer Farm, which both Seth and I enjoyed, we drove into Palmer, a small town originally started as a Colony Town during the Great Depression when FDR encouraged a couple hundred farmers and their families from the Midwest to move to Alaska (at that time a U.S. territory) to work the land. The families were given money to convince them to move. For many families, this helped them escape the deteriorating conditions of the Depression. We went to a small museum in Palmer that contained Colonist artifacts, and a small conservatory/garden nearby containing vegetables and perennials. Alaska, like basically every other U.S. state, has had a late spring, so their crops were a month behind.

            We at lunch at The Noisy Goose Café in Palmer, considered an eating institution for the area. The Noise Goose serves your typical small town café food, like hot/cold sandwiches, burgers, meat and potatoes. Stuffed birds, moose and deer heads, wildlife artwork, and sarcastic signs like “Trespassers will be violated” covered the interior walls. The café’s big picture windows provided gorgeous views of the Chugach Mountains. Our food was delicious; I had a tender, juicy club melt with a side of cottage cheese that I ravenously ate.

            On our way to the musk ox farm a few miles north of Palmer, we stopped at a breathtaking lookout of the Matanuska river—wide, muddy and silt-filled. Mountains (from the Talkeetna Range or Chugach Range, I believe), rose up in the distance. Seth and I had our pictures taken at the lookout. If you looked carefully enough in a certain direction, focusing far away, you could also see Cook Inlet.

            Next on the list was the Musk Ox Farm Tour. Musk ox look like oxen and bison, but they are actually more related to reindeer, cows and goats. They have four stomachs and chew their own cud. Our tour guide took us out into the paths alongside their pens/pastures, providing interesting facts about the animals as we looked at and took pictures. Musk ox are well-adapted to arctic climates. Their soft undercoat, known as qiviut, is eight times warmer than wool. They shed it annually, and it is spun into qiviut thread so Native cooperatives can make scarves, hats and blankets from it, selling those items to benefit their communities. Musk ox also have spiral nasal passages. The cold air goes through the outer part of the spiral first, warming up as it reaches the center of the spiral—and the ox’s lungs. Our tour was really fascinating.

            On our way up to Hatcher’s Pass and Independence Mine, we stopped at a gas station for ice cream. This station sold 32 flavors of soft-serve ice cream! Wow! I had a cone of cheesecake soft-serve, which tasted just like cheesecake—sweet and creamy. That was probably some of the best ice cream I’ve ever had.

            We also stopped at a lookout over the Little Susitna River on our way up to the mine. Water poured and gushed over rocks, creating rapids of clear blue water with white foam. A mountain rose in the background—stunning. I took a picture of Lucie and Betty Anne in front of the river, and then a nice Alaskan took a picture of the four of us.

            We kept climbing in elevation as we approached Independence Mine, and stopped at a couple lookouts to take pictures of the Talkeetnas and the Mat-Su Valley (from where we came) way off in the distance. By the time we reached Independence Mine, we were 3,500 feet above sea level, and there were still a few mountains surrounding us, like Granite Mountain and Skyscraper Peak. These mountains were probably at 5,000-7,000 feet above sea level. We passed by Hatcher’s Pass Lodge, a small restaurant and lodging complex with a few cabins available for hikers and tourists. The little chalets and cabins made a nice picture-perfect scene nestled in the mountains a few hundred feet below the mine.

            Independence Mine State Historical Park, an area that was dedicated as a state park in 1981, was originally part of the Willow Creek Mining District, formed in 1898 to keep track of the various gold claims staked in the area, caused by the 1897 discovery of gold there. Thousands of miners came to Alaska, and most miners panned for gold, but in 1906, a hard-rock gold claim—mining underground in the mountains for gold contained in quartz, was created. In 1937, construction of the mine’s buildings, like the mill, offices, bunkhouses and mess hall began. Eventually, the mine became the second largest lode gold producer in the Willow Creek district. WWII and rising costs forced the mine to close in 1951. Many of the mine’s buildings are still there, though some, like the Mine Complex, are in considerable disrepair (e.g. buildings have collapsed, the wood is rotting, and the area is considered unsafe to walk on or near). The Independence Mine camp was fascinating to take a self-guided tour of (tours were no longer being given by the time we arrived at the mine); the strength and perseverance of the miners, especially in harsh winter conditions, impressed me. However, I was even more impressed by the scenery, and how hard it must have been to build the camp buildings on the mountains.

            Once we returned home to Wasilla, Lucie and Betty Anne made quesadillas and tacos for us for supper. Lucie gave me an extra ulu (carved cutting knife) that she had on hand so I wouldn’t have to purchase one.

 

            Lucie made sourdough pancakes with strawberries and sour cream once again for breakfast. Around 9:00, we hit the road, headed for Portage, AK, with a first stop at the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center. One the way there, the highway followed the Turnagain Arm of Cook Inlet. Mountains from the Kenai Peninsula and the Chugach National Forest rose up from the shoreline, creating a beautiful drive, despite the overcast skies.  We stopped at a rock outcropping called Beluga Point to take pictures.

            Once in the Portage area, we went to the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center (AWCC), which is a non-profit rescue and refuge center for Alaska’s native animals. We saw and took pictures of moose, sleeping black bears, a red fox, a bald eagle, elk, musk ox, caribou, and wood bison. The grizzly (brown) bears weren’t out, but we saw some of the other animals up close. Busloads of tourists kept coming in, so we headed out for our next destination, but not before I saw one of the grossest things I’ve ever seen wild animals do. There was a wood bison urinating, and another bison came up behind him, lapped up some of the urine falling from the other bison, then looked away in apparent disgust. Eww!

            Next on the list was Portage Glacier, located right in Chugach National Forest. First, we stopped and took pictures of another glacier along the way. These glaciers are basically sheets of ice that form in the crevices between mountains and recede and approach with the changing seasons and weather patterns. Because the ice is so dense, the only color refracted when light hits it is blue, so that’s why glaciers appear blue in Alaska. Portage Glacier leads down to Portage Lake, where we also saw blue icebergs. We stopped at the Begich-Boggs Visitor Center, located right on the lake, to read more about glaciers, then we headed to Whittier.

In order to get to the tiny (population approx. 163) port town of Whittier, we had to drive through North America’s longest highway tunnel, called the Anton Anderson Memorial Tunnel. The tunnel is two-and-a-half miles long and goes right through a mountain! Since there’s only room for one lane (train or car) through the mountain, traffic through the mountain runs one way for a half-hour, then the other way for the next half. Traffic lines up in lanes on each side until it’s their side’s turn to go through the mountain. Going through the tunnel was cool. Lights ran overhead, but it was still pretty dark inside, save for vehicle headlights. Seth joked that the drive through the tunnel was the “darkest” part of our tour, due to the prevalence of the “midnight sun.” Rock completely surrounded us inside the tunnel, creating a damp, cool feeling.

            Whittier, a town with probably more fishing boats and small yachts than people, and few city buildings and streets, was just a mile ahead once we emerged from the tunnel. Most people there live in their boats or in the one large apartment complex in town. I saw only a couple houses. I could not possibly live in a town so small; I need more people around and things to do. Anyway, we ate a seafood lunch at Varly’s Swiftwater Seafood Café, one of Lucie and Betty Anne’s favorite spots in Whittier. I ate a basket of their “peel and eat” shrimp, which were juicy and tasty, and washed it down with a bottle of a Fairbanks, AK-based brew called Silver Gulch Coldfoot Pilsner, which was a good beer. We stopped at an ice cream sop afterwards for dessert, browsed a few more shops, then went on our way back through the Anton Anderson Memorial Tunnel.

            Next, we drove to Alyeska Resort to take a tram to the top of the ski resort’s main mountain (about 2,800 feet above sea level). It was fun watching the resort get smaller and smaller and seeing more rivers and lakes as the tram ascended the mountain face. There was still plenty of snow at the top, so Lucie, Seth and I threw snowballs at each other. There was a café and little visitor center at the top, but I had a heckuva lot more fun watching parasailers take off and float through the air as they weaved back to the resort area to land. They looked so graceful in the air. I should try parasailing sometime to get the experience of a “bird’s eye view” of the land.

            We hit the road again, heading back to Wasilla. Betty Anne, our driver for the drip, took us to an overlook of Anchorage. We could see the city’s few “skyscrapers” in the distance and also Mt. Susitna, a.k.a. “The Sleeping Lady.” It was a pretty view. We also stopped at the Harley-Davidson shop near Wasilla so Seth could pick up a t-shirt for his dad, the Harley fiend.

            At home, we had cornbread and watermelon for a snack. Betty Anne showed us videos of moose that were grazing in their yard.

 

            This morning, we saw a mama moose with twin babies in Lucie and Betty Anne’s yard. I love the frequency of wildlife sightings, especially at such close range, in Alaska. You can in certain areas of MN, too, but not quite to the extent that you can in Alaska.

            Lucie, Betty Anne, Seth and I spent the day in Anchorage, Alaska’s largest city, spread out over probably a couple dozen miles in each direction, and home to around 300,000 people. We first went to the Alaska Native Heritage Center (ANHC), a museum dedicated to sharing and preserving the culture of the five major Native cultures of Alaska: the Eyak/Tlingit/Haida/Tsimshian, the Aleut/Alutiq, the Inupiaq/St. Lawrence Island Yupik, the Yup’ik/Cup’ik, and the Athabascan peoples. The museum was set up with a visitors’ center, and then five “village sites” around a small manmade lake. Each village site was devoted to one of Alaska’s Native groups, with a replica of their traditional housing structures, and artifacts inside. What really impressed me was the ingenuity of their housing to withstand Alaska’s brutal winter conditions. Many huts were built right into the earth and covered with sod and vegetation. Some communities had tunnels connecting families’ homes. A good portion of Alaska’s Native communities were also matrilineal, meaning that hunting and property rights were passed down through the mother’s side. I wonder what it would be like to live in a culture like that.

            From the ANHC, we drove to downtown Anchorage. The city reminded me of a larger version of St. Cloud mixed with a smaller and less sketchy version of Vancouver. Anchorage has only a few tall buildings. Sometimes, it didn’t feel like were in the downtown area—it wasn’t congested. But, of course, it was Saturday and we didn’t have to contend with rush hour traffic. And, we traversed along the streets devoted to tourists, with shops, restaurants, and street vendors. Anchorage is a small “big city.”

            At Big Al’s, a little shop/café with a hot dog vendor out front, we ate reindeer sausage on buns. I fed the reindeer a couple days ago, and now the reindeer fed me. The meat was flavorful, with a little kick to it, but that may have been because of the spices put into the sausage.

            Matroyshka dolls are plentiful throughout shops in Alaska, due to the country’s proximity to the state and influence on Alaskan culture, and at Big Al’s, I saw a set of dolls for Russia’s and the former Soviet Union’s leaders, like Putin, Yeltzin, Gorbechav, and (the smallest doll) Stalin. I took a picture of the set, but didn’t purchase it. What would I have done with a bunch of dead Russians? I thought.

            After lunch, we continued walking along the streets in Anchorage, browsing the shops. We stopped at the Alaska Mint, looking at commemorative medallions, coins, and Alaskan gold jewelry. We went to the Ulu Factory, and although factory workers were only making the curved cutting boards instead of the knives, we had fun browsing the products for sale.

            Next, we went to the Anchorage Market and Festival, where on weekends during the summer, vendors sell arts, crafts, Alaska-made products, and food. We had a great time checking out the wares. One pretty guitarist played music for the passersby, with a cardboard sign in her open guitar case stating “College Tuition.” Seth tried salmon kabobs, and I met cartoonist Chad Carpenter, an Alaskan who created the comic strip “Tundra.” The Star Tribune started running the strip in its comics section a month or two ago, and I enjoy it a lot. Carpenter was nice and easy-going, and I bought one of his books, which he signed, including a drawing of a cartoon dog.

            On our way out of Anchorage to head home, we stopped at the Alaska Wildberry Products Company, eyeing the big chocolate fountain and chocolate bars with delight and sugar hunger, and sampled some of the chocolate products. The weather—rainy this morning—had cleared up while we were still in Anchorage, and we could see the mountains in the distance that had been obscured on previous days. We even saw—very faintly—Mt. McKinley. Magnificent! It’s estimated that only 20% of travelers to Alaska get to see the tallest mountain in the U.S.

            At home, we drank lots of wine, and ate crackers with brie and smoked salmon. We tried homemade raspberry and coffee liqueurs Lucie and Betty Anne had made while they shared hunting stories.

 

            Let me just write a few words here about Alaska’s weather. Lucie had advised Seth and me to pack layers for the trip, and boy, did we use them! High temperatures for most days only reached to the mid-60s, and it was cloudy, too. I wore two or three layers of shirts (t-shirt, long-sleeved tee, and hoodie) every day, sometimes adding a fourth layer (jacket) if it was raining. The weather was also unpredictable; it can change after traveling only five miles. I don’t think I could ever live in Alaska; it is way too cold and remote for me, and the weird sunlight hours during the summer and winter would be hard for me to get used to.

            We were hoping it wouldn’t rain today because we were going up to Talkeetna, considered one of the best places to see Mt. McKinley if we weren’t going to Denali National Park. Even when it’s cloudy, mountains in the distance can be obscured, so rain was bad news for us. I kept hoping that the rain would clear up by mid-afternoon, but it didn’t. Bummer!

            We headed up to Talkeetna around 11:00 this morning after an egg/potato/veggie skillet breakfast, made by Betty Anne. Talkeetna, population approx. 873, was a railroad town in the early 1900s to 1950s, and is the “home base” for mountain climbers hoping to summit McKinley (a.k.a “Denali,” which is the preferred name for the mountain, according to Alaskans). The town is a definite haven for tourists, as gift shops and eateries line its main drag. But, Talkeetna is also a weird little town, and the slight remoteness of it, and the fact that it’s so close to Denali, must have some effect on its people. Lucie and Betty Anne told us that two teenagers held up a group of trick-or-treaters by gunpoint just to steal their candy. Crazy—and just plain stupid!

            We first stopped at Talkeetna Alaskan Lodge, located a couple miles outside the main part of town. The resort provides a nice view of Denali—if weather conditions allow you to see it. We saw nothing but clouds in the distance, and the confluence of the Talkeetna, Chulitna, and Susitna Rivers. I was very disappointed that bad weather prevented us from seeing Denali, but you can’t predict the weather. At least we saw it faintly the day before, but I was hoping to get a closer view of it.

            Lucie was in the mood for pie, so we stopped at the Lodge’s restaurant for dessert and coffee (hot chocolate for me). They only had key lime pie, so she got a moose-themed Swiss chocolate cake, which Seth also had. Betty got crème bruleé, and I ate a slice of delicious cheesecake with an Oreo cookie crust and whipped cream and raspberry sauce topping.

            Once in Talkeetna, we put on our rain gear and started browsing the gift shops. None of us would purchase anything, except munchies for my aunt. We went to the Talkeetna Historical Museum, where we viewed a room-sized “to-scale” model of Denali and the surrounding peaks, as well as gold-panning and railroad equipment, a trapper and hunting cabin, and town artifacts. We split a pitcher of Alaskan Amber Ale at the Historic Fairview Inn, which used to be a hotel. Now, it’s a tavern (at least on the first floor) with rooms for rent above it. And when I say it’s a tavern, I mean a tavern—wood floors, walls, chairs and tables, with stuffed animal heads and old tools displayed for decoration. Drinking there kinda felt like going back in time. All I needed were cowboy boots and a frilly dress.

            Back in Wasilla, we ate supper at the Great Bear Brewing Company, a brewpub with excellent barrel-brewed beer and tasty burgers. Seth and I split a spicy burger with pepper-jack cheese. Once back at our “home away from home,” we saw the mama moose and one of the baby moose much closer than we had thus far. They were probably only 40-50 feet away. Seth and I started packing.

 

            Lucie made grits for us for breakfast. Seth and I gave her and Betty Anne chocolate we had purchased in appreciation for their hospitality and all the driving they did for us while we visited them.

            We headed to the airport around 9:00, and saw the mama moose and her calf again on our way out of the driveway. One of the most memorable parts of the trip has been the insane number of wildlife we’ve seen, especially the moose we’ve see in Lucie and Betty Anne’s own backyard. And the moose were so close to us! I’ll miss seeing the mountains in the distance on good (i.e. not cloudy or rainy) days, too.

            On our way to the airport, we stopped at a lookout near Earthquake Park, which used to contain houses, but during the 1964 Good Friday earthquake, a portion of those bluffs broke off and fell into Cook Inlet, wiping out many homes. The area where the park is now is a dense forest of trees. By the Park, we snapped a few pictures of the Anchorage skyline.

            At the airport, Seth and I checked in, then said goodbye to Lucie and Betty Anne. I don’t think I’d ever met Betty Anne before this trip, but I really liked her spirit and sense of humor. I will miss how clean and crisp the Alaskan air is. But, I have certainly slept better now that I’m back at home due to the fact that it gets dark at night!

            We had an uneventful flight home, though the flight attendants offered us extra cheeseburgers. We took a cab back to my place once we got our baggage from the claim. It’s good to be home and relay our trip’s adventures to interested friends, family and co-workers.