Our last week spent in Alaska was at Palmer. A place where I had many memories of the past years history. We were there to enjoy the State Fair. I had been there many times before. I looked forward to visiting the fair again. It's something that most Alaskans look forward to, marking the end of summer. It was to be our last event before heading home to the lower 48. This year's dates for the Fair were August 19th thru Sept. the 1st.
We departed Palmer on the morning of August the 26th. It was a rainy Tuesday as we pulled out onto the Glenn Highway headed north to Glenallen. We had been over that road when we had made our trip to Valdez and back. We passed the Matanuska Glacier and continued north past Sheep Mountain and on to the crossroads where the Glenn Highway meets with the Richardson Highway. Taking the Richardson north we headed towards the Black Rapids Training Site that I knew so well from my days of mountaineering and glacier training back in the mid 70's. I wanted to stop and visit the training site and perhaps catch a few demostrations of today's Army Mountain Training Course.
(The Matanuska Glacier, 27 miles long and 4 miles wide.)
Once we arrive in the Black Rapids area the first thing I saw that was a reminder of those days so long ago was Rainbow Ridge. I had remembered that mountain all these years and it was just as I had envisioned it then and still the same today. If anything it had gotten more colorful thru the many years. It was a land mark, something that stood out. How many times had I driven past that mountain on my way back to the training site from a weekend at home in Anchorage. Now I was back, not as a soldier on active duty but a retired one with no obligations except to myself. I had changed over the many years but that old mountain was the same. It was timeless and I was but a visitor to it who's time would not outlast it. How many humans had come and gone thru this pass and still the mountain remained unchanged and they were gone from the earth forever.
After leaving the training site I did make a stop at the Black Rapids Road House. A place where I spent many an hour in a comatose state of mind numbing inebriated slumber. That old roadhouse had stood the test of time, now it was falling apart thru neglect and nonuse. It was sad to see the state it was in. A new lodge had taken it's place, still I felt sadness for that old roadhouse. Some things had remained the same while others had changed. Time had moved on in many ways. I was older and I too was in need of repairs and not in the shape I once was.
Another landmark for me was Moby Dick! I have no idea as to the correct name of this mountain, just something I called it. It too was unchanged thru these many years. Standing as a white mountain among a group of gray made it surely stand out. It was unmistakingly one of a kind. The only one of it's kind and not even the test of time had changed it.
Something that has changed in this area is the pipe line, stretching all along the Richardson Highway. Starting on the Northern Slope and running to Valdez. Running above ground in area's that are subject to perma frost and below ground in those area's that don't have perma frost. It's runs beside the highway and dots the landscape above and below all along the roadway. We took several pictures, only a small sample of the sure size and scope of such a massive manmade change to the envioroment in this part of Alaska.
We made it back to Tok just before dark and settled in for the evening. We would be here for only the one night and heading for the Canadian border in the early morning light. It was late summer and those long days of daylight had given way to plenty of darkness. No longer did we have to cover our windows in order to keep out the light. The temperature was also cooler. Within a couple of days it would be below freezing at nights, time for us to say our goodbyes.
On August the 27th we departed Alaska and headed to Beaver Creek Canada, the border crossing from the USA into Canada. We were delayed at the boarder for a security check. Not sure of how they pick out who they want or if they have a system, we were delayed an hour for background checks and a search of our truck and camper. It would have taken less time if the agent had just us to focus on but he was doing other things as well. Finally we were once again on our way south thru Canada's Yukon Territory and British Columbia.
The trip back was dull compared to the trip up in May. The beautiful snow covered mountains with wide icy glaciers and frozen lakes were now just mountains and lakes. There was no beauty of contrast, no awakening of animals or the chill of the air. What was different was the turning of the foliage, tree's and bushes leaves turning to the fall colors. The landscape was dull, dry and dusty. The roads were better for the most part with many of the frost heaves, ruts and sunken or missing pavement now repaired. A lot of muddy and gravel road work that made a giant mud ball as it splashed and splattered all about the vehicle and trailer. Maybe it was just that we had seen so much beauty that we were disappointed with the lack of it now. Regardless it was a dull trip with little to catch your attention or make you want to stop for that special photo. Even the beautiful Kluane Lake was a disappointment from our first visit there in May. It didn't even look like the same place. We continued our drive and drove to Haines Junction, a distance of 450 miles and decided that we'd not take a side trip to Skagway, but continue south bound towards home. Before leaving I would wash off the mud, the unit was plenty dirty and each time we got close to either the truck or the trailer we ended up with dirt and mud all over us and our clothing. The campground had a wash rack and I had a pocket full of toonies, the Canadian one dollar coin. It was a $1 for two minutes, I kept feeding that coin box until I had the mud removed. The vehicles looked much better if only for a few miles.
Our trip today we'd drive only 220 miles to Teslin, where we had made a stop on the way up in May. It was also one of those places we had enjoyed on a beautiful lake. Do I need to tell you how we viewed it now on the return trip? We did enjoy dinner at the lodge and visited the museum of animal displays and native crafts and gifts. Still it just wasn't the same, or was it? I'm sure that it was us who had changed!
The morning of the 29th we left Teslin and made our way south to Watson Lake, taking a different route from this point on our return trip. We were going down the Cassiars Highway, a small two lane road with little or no traffic. Not a lot to see but it would cut our return trip by as much as 150 miles. Since we weren't all that excited about the return trip it was good to cut a few miles. We had abandoned any plan or scheduled stops and drove as many miles as we could. It was days of anywhere from 450 miles to 550 miles depending on when we got started and when we called it a day. We were still in the wilds of Canada's vast frontier and settlements weren't all that many. That days trip would take us to Bell 2 Lodge. Along the way there we passed over Eastman Creek, named for George Eastman of the Eastman Kodak Company.
It was now August the 30th, the month almost gone and the marking of the fourth month since we had started our summer adventure starting on the first day of May. This days journey ended at Quesnel, a small town about 50 miles south of Saint George. It was another long day of driving 440 miles with little or nothing to see along the way. There was the occasional build up area with a small town and gas station. Towards the end, the towns were getting larger, 6500 residents or more. Quesnel was a town of some size, 8500 or more. Our stay there was in a beautiful CG right on the lake shore. It was another one of those long days ending with a rainbow. We wanted to stay longer but it was time to get back on the road.
It was now August the 31st, last day of the month. That day would end up being a 550 mile day. We hadn't planned such a long days drive, it just turned out to be that way. Driving thru Frasier Canyon it was hot and desert like. The small farms had to irrigate their pastures, that was the only green we saw. The canyon had high walls with a river flowing thru it, train tracks on both sides. We stopped to watch a bunch of rafters coming down the swift and frigid moving waters. At the rapids the rafts bucked and rose high before crashing down again. Several of the oarsmen of the rafts would spill out into the water and quickly be recovered by the others onboard. Having done this sort of thing myself I could hear the steersman in the back of the raft as he called out orders to those paddling on right and left side. Right drag, meaning oars in water held steady as if to brake while he yelled row to the left oarsmen. He was the captain of this small vessel and it was his job to steer and move the raft in a desired direction.
The day was ending and we were within a few miles of the US Border. We decided to cross then and not wait spending another night in Canada. We crossed back onto the USA soil and headed for Seattle. It was the Labor Day weekend and the CG's were full. We decided to make our final stop after 550 miles of driving, it was late and I was tired. We camped out at a Truck Stops of America, TSA as it is called and the large letters on the sign read. We were back in the lower 48 and on our final 30 days toward home. We were "Sleepless in Seattle" as the trucks roared in and out of the TSA all night. Up at 5:30 am and headed to Walla Walla for a couple of earned days of rest.
The summer spent in Alaska was priceless. The long trip of driving up and back was expensive. Paying as much as $8.00 a liter for diesel fuel in Canada and as much as $4.76 a gallon in Alaska. Still I am glad we made this trip and had the time to enjoy it as well. For me Alaska was still the beautiful place of my youth and while many a thing had changed to include myself, there was many of my memories that remained as I recalled it from years past. Time has a way of changing structures and landscapes by man, machine and weather, yet there is still vast amounts of land untouched. Some settlements of long ago decaying and abandoned while others are fast moving and much populated. Towns that once supported a hand full of residents have all but fell down and a once popular stop at a crossroads no longer in business, makes you wonder what happened to the people that called this home, where did they go? Some things we will never know but this much I do know, the Alaska of my long ago yesterday is still there, out in the less populated areas of vastness. The modern day Alaska is growing in leaps and bounds soon to be a populated area with a large city's feel and a small town way of life lost forever. You see it in the people, the native Alaskan that once spoke their own language is fast disappearing replaced with one who speaks perfect English with no hint or trace of an accent. A mistake the young adults are now trying to correct. Only the elders have the tongue of their ancestors, now the young are seeking to learn the ways and customs from the elders, so they can teach the next generation. A lesson learned almost too late. I may never gain visit Alaska as my plans are to see more of the lower 48, so many places to travel and see. Yet I will forever hold Alaska in a special place within my heart, as that was a place of my youth. I grew up there in such a short time so many years ago. There is a saying in Alaska, "once an Alaskan always an Alaskan." I think that to be true, just ask Kathie :)
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