And In Conclusion, back in Talkeetna...

Overall, I have been thrilled by what I've discovered in this state.   Alaska really has appeal.  For those who appreciate rugged nature and peaceful isolation it seems to say, "Come visit.  Whether by boat..

or by plane...

or by car...

we'll find a spot for ya!

Can't wait for my return!

Onward to Homer, Alaska!

About 7 miles outside of Homer, Mae at a local Tesoro gas station showed me how to fill the propane tank of my motorhome:  "Now that I've shown you how to do it, realize that you'll probably never do this yourself.  Most dealers who sell propane would never allow an RVer to fill his or her own tank.  We do it for you.  That generally allows all of us to go on living our merry lives.  So, hon, where you from?"

And so I met Mae.  Originally from Michigan, Mae found herself living in the deep woods near Anchor Point, Alaska.  "Been here for the past 9 years solid.  I live totally off the grid.  No water, no electricity, no nothun except one of those coal miners head lamps.  But this past winter?  Well, I may have to just break down and get me some heat.  It was just a bit too much."

She said she was 42, but - sorry, Mae - she looks 60.  Life off the grid in Alaska can be hard on a gal I guess.

Welcome to Homer!   About 7 miles outside of the town limits the fog came from out of nowhere.  This scene was at the "Welcome" sign and normally is a place of beauty, overlooking the bay.  Could hardly see 5 feet ahead most of the highway into town.

But suddenly it cleared, and once I'd swerved past slow-moving moose, I was in a quaint town that seems intent on rebuilding it's history...

and becoming a haven for hippies and the New Age generation:

and along Homer Spit, some businesses boom...

while others decline...

Annie, Diane and a Grown Up Named Corey

WALK INS: $18 HAIRCUT

I'd stopped to admire the car, but the invitation for a haircut posted across the parking lot finally captured my attention.  I'd not had time to get my hair cut before leaving Houston, and now it was at that point where it was driving me crazy.  I sauntered into the "salon".

Annie was a tall blond I guessed to be about 32 or 35.  Diane was a cute, pixie-ish girl of 28.  Annie was tint-dying a client; Diane was finishing a milk shake at the register, waiting for a client to walk in.  Hello!

"Just a standard, traditional cut: close on the sides, longish on top.  Add some to the bald area please."   Yuck, yuck, yuck and off the three of us went on a gab-fest.

  

Annie: "Where are all the men in this po-dunk town?  I can't find a man anywhere!"

Diane: "Oh, Annie, you just try too hard."

Annie: "Maybe it's too late for me.   How old do you think Diane is?

Joe: "Mmmm...27?"

Diane: Wow!  Good guess.  I'm 28.   Who old do you think that old blond is over there?"

Joe: "mmmm...maybe 32 or 35?"

Annie: "I want to marry you!  I want to marry you!"

Diane: "Great!  She's 42.  Now I'll have to listen to her carp on and on about how youthful she looks.  With a face like an old shoe, she thinks she looks youthful just because you said she thinks she looks like 35.  Do you know how hard you've made it for me?  She'll be all: 'I'm Penelope Cruz.  I'm Miss Amy Adamms."

Annie: "Well, I just wish I could fine me a man in this town."

  

On and on for the next 5 minutes (didn't take long; I don't have much hair).  When I left I got a chorus of "Thank you and please come back soon." from the two stylists while the matron in the next chair rolled her eyes and just laughed and laughed.

==============

Sunday morning.   I'm up really early and ready to shove off to Homer.  I have a long day ahead of me, so I didn't make coffee at the RV site.  Safeway Starbuck's isn't open yet so I decide on a cup of McDonald's coffee and discovered a whole new world:  did you know that McDonald's includes folks who are challenged in its hiring practices?  Is that the politically-correct term?   I don't frequent McDonald's so I didn't know that.   Anyway, just before 8 a.m. I met Robert, an apple-shaped, harried-by-existence store manager who reminded me of the cartoon character in Alice in Wonderland who waddles around fretting about "being late for a very important date".  Busily behind him was Corey, a physically challenged kid who apparently steps up and comes to his rescue rather often.  

Robert: "Oh, hi.  How are ya?   What'll it be?"

Joe: "Just a coffee and a bran muffin please."

Robert:  "Oh.  Uh-oh.  A coffee and a bran muffin; a coffee and a bran muffin...

Corey (bleary-and-red-eyed as he hobbles over): "I got this, Robert.  You go check on the English muffins."

Robert: "Muffins.  Muffins.  Right.  I'll check on muffins; you get this guy."  Robert waddles off.

Corey (sighing): "Almost time for my shift to end."

Joe: "End?  It's not even 8 a.m."

Corey:  "I started at 11 last night.  What a night!"

Joe: "I didn't know McDonald's is open 24 hours  You look kinda young to be working a night shift."

Corey: "Not really.  I just turned 16.  But these nights sure are aging me fast."

Joe: "Lots of interesting people?"

Corey: "It's not generally too bad.  But last night a lot of drunks.  Had one come up to the drive-thru window and demand food for free.  Didn't want to pay for it."  

Joe: "So what do you do?  Call the cops?"

Corey: "Cops?  No.  You just learn to handle them.  You gotta be careful though.  Never know when they're carrying.  Like last night.  We just tell him that there is no free food; he has to pay.   He starts going off about there should be free food all across America.  I take over from the girl at the window.  She gets scared.  Not fair she has to deal with them.  And the drunks?  You just start sliding the window very slowly closed.  Not too fast; they get excited.  If he takes out a gun, I have to use the window lock and beat it away from the window.   But he eventually calmed down.  He ended up just walking away mumbling and complaining that paying for food wasn't democratic.  But I'm really beat this morning.  I'm glad my shift is over."
Joe: "Well I'm glad it ended well.  I hope you have better nights."

Corey: "Oh, this wasn't bad.  It just gets old very quickly.  Next weekend it'll really be wild.  The drunks all come out for the holiday weekends.  Start drinking mid-week and don't stop until Tuesday.  I feel like I'm getting to be an old man fast."

From out of the mouth of a challenged but quite capable 16 year old!    And so I left Corey to prepare for the end of his shift and the beginning of the rest of his life. 

God bless the very, very good people of Soldotna, Alaska.   My heart goes out to you!

The Beautiful Citizens of Soldotna, Alaska

See that Starbuck's logo?   Get yourself in there.  You might just get lucky and met Michael and his 11 year old daughter.   Never did get her name.   Just her wisdom.   The Starbucks cafe abuts the exit of one of the grocery lines.  Forty year old and chubby, Michael and his happy-go-lucky daughter Maddie (made that up out of the initials for "Michael's Daughter") had just checked out of the grocery line.   He caught my eye and nodded at me while I was working on my blog.  We struck up a conversation.   Turns out that Micheal is a single parent, divorced from his wife who now lives "...somewhere in the hellish bowels of Alabama".  He got custody of his daughter because "...my ex is "...too busy finding herself a rich plantation owner.  That's okay though because this little girl makes me a most blessed man."   We talked about what I was doing in town (drinking Starbucks for hours and hours???) and how someone should hook up with the RV parks to offer kayaking and river-fishing lessons to the yuppie RVers from the city.   Long and short of it, Michael gave me his number and offered to teach me both "...next time you come passing through when the weather is a bit warmer."   We got to talking about all sorts of "Solutions To The World's Ills" and somehow, after about 20 minutes or longer, we ended up very briefly on the subject of Sarah Palin.   Michael backed off and pointed rapidly to his daughter.  She reared up at Palin's name and scowled: "She's not only ignorant, she's a total phoney. We all know that."  I made the mistake of rebutting without thinking: "Well, I can't believe that she was able to fool you people up here in Alaska for so long."  To which Little Maddie correctly, astutely and promptly responded: "Well, you Texans have your Governor Perry, so there."

Whoa!!  You go kiddo!   She had me on the floor with laughter.  She explained that all the kids her age take an active interest in their Current Affairs class at school.   I left Starbucks that day in Soldotna, Alaska filled with more hope for the future than in a long, long time.    

Perhaps we'll meet again one day, Mr. Michael and "Maddie".   In the meantime, thank you both!

And fifty yards from Safeway/Starbucks, sharing the same parking lot there is a McDonalds....

...and in this McDonald's there works the most compelling person I met when I visited Soldotna, Alaska.

=========
"Hey, let me know if you want a refill and I'll get it for you."

I thought I'd made a mistake in coming in to McDonald's; there were so many young kids; teenagers.  But I wanted to continue working on my blog,  and I felt I'd overstayed my welcome at Starbuck's and I'd heard that McDonald's has free WiFi.  So I waddled on over and ordered an unwanted cup of coffee just to have an excuse to sit and use their internet. 

Dillon is a busboy at McDonald's.  Bespecled and built like a reed, he seemed like a typical average-looking "nerdy-type" teenager.  I'd not really noticed him except from the corner of my consciousness he seemed popular with a few girls when I first walked in.  His offer of a refill was upbeat and friendly, and I was immediately impressed by his outgoing personality. 

"I normally don't come in until later on Saturdays, but they called me at 8:30 this morning and asked me to come in.  I guess everybody just had to have McDonald's pancakes this morning.  What a mess too! I hate to say anything bad about minorities, but some of those, you know,  Hispanics.  Well, they just never clean up or take their trays away." 

"You know?  I really don't like working here.   It's been 4 long years.  I can't believe it's been that long.  But where else can I go?   I used to work at Subway, but it was boring.  At least here the clients are nice and I get to talk to them if it's not too busy.  I can probably get you some cookies for free too if you want."   I declined.

Something seemed "off".  Then I saw a series: first, his pants were all kind of askew.  Sort of like how someone dresses when they have cerebral palsy or other muscular dysfunction.   Then I saw the slight limp in his arm and his leg.  I congratulated him on how popular he seemed with the girls.   He beamed, but then said:

"But I really don't have time for them.   I'm not gay.  I just have to really focus on my studies.  I'm a junior in high school now, and I have to take my studies seriously if I want to get out of here.  I've worked here a long time.  Each pay period, I keep $20 and give the rest to my grandparents.  What do I need the money for?   I give my grandparents the rest to help with food and living costs.   I live with them.  They take care of me and I give them money.   I worry about them.  My grandmother is disabled and gets a disability check from the government.  She can't work.   My grandfather is retired from the railroad.   He gets some kind of retirement pay; I don't know exactly what.   But he's just old and kinda run down.  They've taken care of me, and so I give them all my money other than $20 a pay check.  I keep that. I don't need it, but I keep it.  I don't have dates; I just work and study.  One day maybe I'll go to college.  You know I'd like to go to college and get a degree so I can get outta McDonald's.  I hate it here, but there's no other place to go like I said before.  Who's gonna hire a kid like me?  But if I can save my money and go to college, maybe I can get a better job and help my grandparents more.   They always appreciate my giving them money.   They always say they're grateful, and they're happy when I give them money.  What do I need it for anyway?"   I detected sadness in his voice, but also a fierce desire to convince himself that everything was okay and that he'd get ahead somehow in the future.

We talked about scholarships and how so many go begging for recipients each year: "Yeah, my teachers told us about that.  I think if I can keep my grades good, they'll help me find money to go to some kind of college.  I worry about my grandparents though.  I just hope they'll be okay.  Maybe I can go someplace close by.  I need to start saving money for college.   Last week I got all my money stolen at school.  I had $44 saved up. You know how I knew someone stole my money?  I suddenly felt my wallet was in my front pants pocket.  That's  how I knew.  I opened my wallet and all my money was gone."

He said that in a matter-of-fact manner.  No self-pity.  As if it really didn't matter, and that he'd recover from it.  My inclination was to reach into my own wallet and pull out a few $20's, but I had a very distinct impression that such an act would have confused and upset him more than the original loss.

"It was the first time that's ever happened to me."   Some other kids came by and tapped him on the arm as they passed, acknowledging his presence.  "I'll be more careful.   It just happens.   But it's nice to come in here and meet people though.  And they treat me good here.  They appreciate me; even call me all the time when they need extra help."

We talked about his plans for college and how lucky he felt to be needed.  Then we parted.  He had tables to clean.  "Good luck with your trip.  Have lots of fun."

I ended up learning a lot about Dillon and his life in Soldotna.  But in the end, I left with the disquietude that comes from having more questions raised than answers: Where were his parents?  What happened to them?  What were his grandparents doing with the money that he gave them?  What did he really feel about the loss of his $44 savings?  What does the future hold for Dillon?           

Onward to Soldotna and Excitement!

South of Anchorage, the terrain suddenly changes.  The highway closely hugs the side of a mountain on one side and then train tracks and a sheer cliff on the other.  Beyond the cliff is a shallow bay that is part of Cook Inlet.  It's as if you were in the fjords of Scandanavia.  See?

And you see those train tracks?   Well let me tell you something.  Bug-eyed tourists from the cruise lines pay big bucks to take a ride in a snazzy yellow-and-black train along those tracks.   I know b/c I saw them from the comfort of my temperature-controlled motorhome while sipping my coffee and munching on a bear claw as they drooled hungrily.  So long, bug-eyed and drooling tourists!!   Ha, ha, ha, ha!  Life is good in an RV!

And the train don't go where I go, so the cruise line tourists don't see what I see.  See?

You know when you're in Soldotna when you come to Oldie's Bead Shop.  It's the "Happenin' Place" in Soldotna ...

...that is, other than the Starbuck's Cafe which is located inside the Safeway grocery store.  Now that is the "Happening Place"...

It was here that I met the first in a series of remarkable citizens of Soldotna, Alaska.   They are indelibly etched on my mind...

Palmer

Good bye, Valdez.  After Valdez, I decided to head on down to Palmer with an ultimate goal of exploring the Kenai Peninsula.  First stop: Palmer.  Palmer is about 15 town blocks.  Very clean and neat town.   The RV Park is at the end of a street and right at the base of a mountain.  Hello:

The day's drive from Glennallen to Valdez back to Glennallen and then to Palmer was ridiculously long but I definitely had the energy for it.  I'm used to long drives (ask my siblings in Florida or NC) but tonight I just read a book, watched the sun setting on the mountain and crashed at 10 p.m.   Naturally, it was still light.  It seems like the sun never sets here during this time of the year!  
  

What A Ride to Valdez!

Without doubt, today's ride to Valdez provided the most jaw-dropping and spectacular scenery of ANY road trip I can remember.   It started with an In-Your-Face 'Hello':

 And just continued as I climbed to altitudes over 3,000 feet and found myself surrounded by mountains of pure snow that came right up to the sides of the road.  The girds along the road are for the snowplow crews to know where the road winds.  This part of the drive was mind-boggling; I thought I'd been transported to the Alps in deepest winter.   I really, really wish you could have been there to see it:

But then before long the road would plunge precipitously and I'd find myself in a deep, deep gorge surrounded by rock and waterfalls of melting snow.  This one is named Bridal Veil Falls:

Finally, I arrived at Valdez Sound.  Valdez is a small town of perhaps 12 total city blocks and a fishing boat harbor.   It's surrounded by snow-covered mountains on 3 sides and Prince William Sound on the south.  Here's the sound.  Isn't it purdy?:

I bummed around the town for awhile, stretching my legs and seeing the sights.   We're talking all one-story shacks here.   But it was sunny and warm and the fresh halibut lunch was excellent.

Okay, so that's it for Valdez.  I don't give it justice in the pics, but it sure is a picturesque (sp?) spot, and I hope to come back one day soon.

Glennallen to Valdez

Hey Folks - Lack of available WiFi has delayed my posts to the blog for the past few days.   Nevertheless, your Intrepid Traveler has been busy:

For those who are curious, here is what my "home in Glennallen" looked like.  Nice, quiet spot...terrific cure for a killer migraine.  I heard so many raves about the scenery on the way to Valdez that I decided to drive to Valdez, have lunch and then turn around and come back.   But first:

A quick stop in Copper Creek for gas ... and a homemade blueberry muffin!

Tok - Part 2

Stopped at this really gorgeous lake on the way to Tok.  Two guys about 20 yards from where I parked were rigging their fishing poles to fish.   One wore a Boston Red Sox cap; the other (George Riley) wore a Maine Poacher cap. Red Sox ambled quickly away from his partner and started fishing.  George came over to visit.  Sometimes folks are too happy to see someone new.   He and his bud (never got a chance to get his name) are from Maine but live in Fairbanks.   They love it here so we talked for awhile about the lifestyle.   Then I mentioned the Red Sox.   Whoa, Nellie!   For the next 15 minutes I listened non-stop to statistics of nearly every current Red Sox player, why changing managers was a huge mistake, blah, blah, blah.   Now I don't mind talking sports, but - for me - baseball is just one step more appealing than ???. Totally boring.   I can understand that it's called a "sport" but it certainly isn't what I would consider "athletic".  Just my opinion which isn't worth much.   But consequently, I have little more than a paragraph or two to share on that sport and I'm done.  So I soon left George standing on the banks of the lake still verbally going on and on about his beloved Red Sox.  I understand why his buddy walked far away to fish.  Even their dog beat a hasty exit and went with the other guy.  LOL.  I wanted to ask George about his "Maine Poacher" cap, but that question got lost among his prattle on RBI's and ERA's.    I'm onward to Tok, George, God luv ya...   

The road to Tok is the Alaska Highway.   The Beatles sang about a "long and winding road".   The Alaska Highway is a looooong and lonely and deserted road.   I was happy to finally pull into Tok, a village primarily clustered around a single intersection in the Alaska Hwy.

I proceeded to Tok Visitor's Center around 1 p.m. and spent the next 30 minutes chatting with Madge.  She's originally from Chicago, but she and her hubby have been up here for 35 years.  They winter in Everglades City (?),  Florida "...because it's really warm and close to the water for fishing, but it's very small and not as populated as other Florida cities.  We prefer to live away from the high-population cities that line most of the Florida coasts.  Too many people."  From her description of aversion to people, I had visions of them in a one-room, run-down shack sitting back amid the swamplands.   She was a super nice lady, though, and I enjoyed talking to her.    

Tomorrow...Tok's RV Village.  But now?   Reading and then "light's out".

Arrived In Tok

I left Fairbanks on Monday morning and the first stop I made was North Pole, Alaska.   As you might imagine, NP is totally focused on Christmas.   The street light posts are all shaped and painted like candy canes, the streets all have Christmas-related names: Santa Clause Lane, White Christmas Dr., etc., holiday banners along the streets and a festive atmosphere all year.

At the intersection of Snowman and Santa Claus Lanes I spied the Santa Senior Center.  I thought that was a fitting place for a retiree to stop for coffee.  About 12 jolly seniors were hanging out having brunch, drinking coffee, exercising with dumbell weights and just chatting up a real storm.  I met Marilyn Moyers who manages the gift and book shop and chatted with her for awhile.  I stayed for about 40 minutes chatting mostly with all the women who swarmed upon me as a man ambulating without artificial aid.  I kinda felt like "fresh meat"!

I bought 2 books: one about a senior guy traveling solo around Alaska solo (wonder why that appealed to me.).  The other Marilyn recommended: it's a collection of short-stories by women who describe their decisions to move to Alaska and their life experiences here.  She was really pushing it b/c part of the sale benefits the center.   It sounded like an interesting topic anyway, so I bought it.  

The center is really a very fun and "happening" place.  There were a couple of other guys there but they seemed rather overwhelmed by all the energy pouring from the women who were chatting up a storm everywhere.  I hope to get up here again soon.

Heading south to Delta Junction where I spent last night, I passed by a river that was one of the first original sources in the discovery of gold up here.   God I look old!  Oh, it's only b/c I was squinting into the sun, right?

Further south, I stopped at this overlook to have lunch, contemplate the beauty and serenity of the place and to feed the birds.  Unfortunately I learned that the birds don't really care for 100% whole wheat bread.  I figured they'd be ravenous after a long winter.  Picky, picky aren't we, little birds?

Everywhere I stop, people are super friendly and eager to talk.   And talk.   And talk.   Sometimes it's difficult to break away, but they always have good life stories to share, and that's a blessing!

Hey, Y'All.   Well, today I drove north about 120 miles to Fairbanks.  This was definitely an interesting experience.   Despite going north, the weather made a rapid change from winter to late springtime here in Fairbanks.  Folks at the local WalMart and Barnes & Noble are in t-shirts and shorts!   The trees are all yellow-green with leaves blooming whereas 120 miles further south, the buds are there but no leaves yet.

At first I thought that the springtime weather must be due to Fairbanks being lower in altitude than Denali.  But I spent the day going uphill and not downhill, so that can't be right.   So perhaps it's because of the earth's tilt?  Is Fairbanks closer to the sun perhaps?  I'll refer this question to my brother William who will have the correct answer momentarily.

At one of my stops to photograph a verdant valley, I met Tad, a white-haired very craggy bicyclist from Fairbanks.  He told me that he is training to build up to daily weekend rides of between 90 and 100 miles.  Today's ride was along the hills outside of Fairbanks and he had done 80 miles so far.  He had 15 more to go before reaching home.  Unfortunately he'd run out of water.  Fortunately I'd just filled my water tank.  He rides a carbon Trek Madonne 5.9 with a power meter.   We chatted cycling for a long time.  He told me he is about to turn 60.  I thought he was in his late 70's.   Oops! 

Sorry about the pic; it turned out very dark.  

Uh-oh.  A friend just alerted me to the fact that my blog is missing the post and the pics from my stay in Talkeetna.  If my blog reads like something is missing on May 10th and 11th, it's b/c I must have accidentally deleted that post.  Bummer.   Anyone know if a deleted post goes into a trash bin where it can be retrieved?  

I left my footprint in the snow for 2 messages:  "Joe's been here!"  and  "I will return again!"

Just a couple of more shots.   The first is Sanctuary Creek.   Skinny dipping was brutal but the setting was absolutely stunning!     The second is where I stopped and had lunch, enjoying a magnificent vista.

Nina's truck camper.   Not sure where her husband was when she invited me in; I expected an angry husband at any moment.  Or maybe he saw us and made an accurate guess.  LOL.

And this is the 30-mile outlook post.

Bobbling through Denali enroute to the 30-mile outlook post.

And this snowstorm was a bunch of jollies to travel through.  It got worse, but I didn't want to stop to take a picture.  Not much traffic at all on the road so I was glad when it stopped snowing...and before it began again.  And again...

This creek was along Rt. 3 heading toward Denali National Park.  I thought it was cool.  This was taken before the snow started to pelt down. 

Yowsah!   Last night at 9:30 p.m. I thought I heard something vaguely familiar.  I got up and looked out the window and - sure enough - we were having a fierce snowstorm.  Coming down in big, white, pelting sheets.  Cool.  Literally and figuratively.  If this continues, I may end up seeing as much snow on this trip as my friends in Boston saw all this year!  This morning the rig is coated with snow and ice.  It's 28-degrees.  But toasty inside!  Think I'll have another cup of hot coffee and some warm toast!

Couldn't get any hot water at the campsite showers last night, so it looks like another "sponge bath".  I could use the motorhome shower, but why bother?   Haven't had a full shower since leaving Houston on Wednesday morning.  Imagine.  Me.  Mr. Clean Machine.  Existing off of sponge baths.  What will the world deliver next,eh?  Hey, all is well. 

I'll publish photos next time I'm at a site with internet capabilities.   Not sure I'll have that in Denali, but at least one night in Denali is my goal for today.  If you don't have any posts from me for two days, I'm fine.  Later.

Wow!   What a day of driving!   Left Talkeetna at 9 a.m. and got here to an RV Park in Cantwell at 1 p.m.  Shortly after entering Denali National Park, snow flurries started.   Then heavier. And then even heavier!  Finally I thought I was going to be stuck in a full-scale blizzard!  I was okay with the snow, but I worried that the roads might start to get slippery, so I slowed to a careful pace.  Fortunately the traffic was almost non-existent.    The snow began to really accumulate on the motorhome and on the road, but I finally made it to Cantwell General store where I met Native American owners, Alex and his dad, Alex.  Friendly enough, but prices were sky-high.  Cantwell RV Park was just around the corner and so I pulled in to secure a place to spend the night. 

Eileen and her husband had just come back north to open the park after spending the winter in Melbourne, FL where her parents live.  No water at my individual site, but for $20 I get electricity, so I'll be toasty warm.  Fresh water and a dumping station at the edge of the park.  Since I arrived so early, Eileen suggested that the Denali park road was just 28 miles up and that since the season hadn't begun, I could get in free.   Did someone say "Free"?  Child!  Off I went!

More snow again, but then sunshine.  For the rest of the day, it alternated between snow and sunshine.  As it turned out, not only did I get into Denali National Park for free, but the park road which is normally closed at mile 12, was open all the way to the 30-mile marker until Tuesday when the season starts.   After that, vehicles can only go 12 miles along the road.   For the next several hours I meandered through the park seeing one majestic vista after another.  The place is breathtaking!  Eileen asked that I not download any photos b/c their internet connection is weak and a download could crash the system, even though there are only 2 other visitors here.  So pics will have to wait until tomorrow or the next time I have internet access, kids.

At the 30 mile mark there is a large observation deck overlooking the valley and mountain range.  It was there, amid howling wind and pelting snow that I met Nina.   She and her husband travel in a truck camper (pic tomorrow) and Nina invited me in to show off their digs.  She told me that their truck camper was very stable and very safe.  Hmm...it sure has everything I need and I really liked the small, compact size. It's very, very tempting.  Much easier to get around in.  I'm going to do more research on truck campers; they sure are popular here in Alaska!

Well, I saw precious little wildlife, but tons of gorgeous scenery.  I also learned that the rangers have opened about 20 rv slots for the public to use free of charge until Tuesday.   Weekenders from Fairbanks or Anchorage may inundate the place tonight and take all the available spots, but if not, then I plan to get there early tomorrow and see if I can't snag a free spot for the weekend right there in Denali!  They may not have WiFi so you may not hear from me for a couple of days, but be assured I'll be in gorgeous scenery and with terrific weather.

And now?   Off to bed.  This puppy has had a full day and is tired, y'all!
 

Bobby's RV Park.  The pic's not good, but it was surrounded by snow-ladden mountains.  Better pics await.

Flight To Alaska

Slept very little, but I was up at 4 a.m. and out the door to the airport at 5 a.m.   Temp at 5 a.m. in Houston a sultry 80 degrees.  Yuck!  Flight to Seattle was non-eventful.  Flew first class to Anchorage and was surrounded by rugged oil field roughnecks in their very late 50's or 60's who were loud, blustery and proceeded to get totally blitzed.  The stench of rancid alcoholic breath made me grateful for my sobriety.   They all calmed down when the in-flight movie started: "A Joyous Noise".  Suddenly the rowdy roughnecks put on headphones and became totally mesmerized by the Dolly Parton / Queen Latifa romantic caper. Whoda thunk it?

Picked up the motorhome, went through orientation and suddenly I was off into the rush-hour traffic of downtown Anchorage.  That wasn't as scary as I anticipated; maybe b/c I was exhausted.  Raided the local WalMart for provisions, then beat a hasty exit north out of town.

Spent the night at Bobby's RV Park in Chugiak.  Bobby spends his winters in Corpus; nice guy.  Huge, beautiful snow-covered mountains immediately to the east and south of the park.  Felt like I could almost touch them!  Trees just beginning to bud.   Temps at night in the 40's; 50's during the day.  It's wonderful!  Too tired to get much sleep, and that which I did get was interrupted all night long with leg cramps.   But I was warm and cozy, and I'm sure I'll sleep well tonight.

Drove up to Talkeetna, a very tiny, very rugged, picturesque (sp?) and old town.  I'm sending this from the tiny, wood-framed public library b/c I can get WiFi here.

I'll spend the night here in Talkeetna and then get up early and drive to Denali.  The mountains are massive and everywhere.  They are snow-covered to almost the base.   The terrain is mostly that end-of-winter-brown-but-just-about-to-turn-green color so typical of the change of seasons in the north.   Many clumps of snow still everywhere, and many of the lakes still have ice along the shores.  All is well.

Finally!  On Wednesday, May 9th I fly to Anchorage, rent a 25-foot motorhome and trek around the state for 2 weeks.  First stop will be Chugach State Park for the evening.  Next day I'll stop in Houston (yup, there's a Houston, Alaska!) for provisions.  Ya think I should bring my cowboy boots and hat?  Loaded with provisions, I'll head to Denali National Park for a couple or a few days.  Then onward to North Pole and sights beyond.  Yee-haw!   Come back later this week for pics from the Far North!

Adriana & Gil along the Seine. "Midnight In Paris". One of my all-time favorite movies. Luv ya, Woodie!