Alaska Here I Am
A Canoe?
Yep a canoe....... but not my own. The second night I visited the local bar in gold mining town Dawson City, Bill walked in. "So, how long are you gonna stay in Dawson?" was one of his first questions. "No idea. Why? Are we gonna canoe down the Yukon River?" Was my response. "Sure!" was his direct answer.
So that was that. The next morning we ran around getting the various materials together, and off we were in the early afternoon. It was fabulous, absolutely the only thing I wanted to do here in Dawson. That whole afternoon and the next day we drifted and paddled down the strong flowing Yukon River, retracing banks that the long-ago gold seekers came by as well. We made several stops to have snacks and relaxation, looked around old cabins and saw a bear swim across the silty current.
In the evening we came ashore at Cassier Creek where three cabins with different luxury levels were empty and waiting. We took over the middle one which had everything you needed for even a winter stay. Campfire galore, with delicious food and marshmallows, what a starry night.
Thanks Bill, you still have no idea how cool it was to see those trapper huts. So out in the middle of nowhere but laden with all cozy items a civilized person wants. The construction and living is to-wowy. If I ever come back to Dawson we're gonna have some fun in the snow, I promise.
For my next drive I left in the fog and drizzle, but soon the Top-of-the-World highway changed from a road surrounded by whiteness to a road with steep drop-off's on both sides. The ridge-drive really made you feel as being on top of it all. What a spectacular way to drive into Alaska.
Here I was, finally I had made it to interior Alaska, home of Nomadic tribes like the Tlingit’s, Haida’s and the Athabasca’s who came across the Bearing-Straight between 30.000 and 40.000 years ago, massive mountains like North Americas highest top: Mt McKinley, 20.320ft, or volcano’s hidden in snow. It features 800lb Grizzlies catching 10lb salmon, flocks of Balk Eagles and all other wild animals you can think of. With a population of only 655,500 and a landmass of 586,000 sq miles it's funny to discover the state flower is a Forget-Me-Not, cause trust me, the mesmerizing size and wilderness, together with its creative sourdough people will melt your cold nose and find a place in your open heart.
The first person who proved that all this is as true as a bee makes honey, was Joe, the man on the corner of the highway crossings who sold fireworks and made flies on the side. My photo-making was greeted by photo-making from his side and in no time his bold, open and playful comments made us in high-voltage conversation with an invitation to come eat Salmon five minutes later. The room, in the same trailer as all those fire crackers, that he slept, cooked and made his flies in was ankle deep in 'projects', but the fish tasted fantastic and meeting all his random costumers was highly entertaining.
Wild Raspberries and Blue Berries galore!
Next destination: Wrangell- St Elias National Park, the country's largest NP. It encompasses 13.2 million acres of mountain ranges, river valleys, more then a hundred glaciers and miles of rugged coastline.
In it's Western heart it holds a major mining area, discovered in 1900 and connected to Cordova on the Gulf of Alaska in 1911 by a 196 mile long railroad track. The company town of Kennecott was build and mining took place until 1938, making a net profit of more than $100 million.
To reach this red painted mill I had to follow the McCarty Hwy for 60miles: an unpaved gravel road, which before 1974 was the railroad track. Knowing this it became more understandable why so many drivers were pestered by flat tires....... including me. For the first time in 30.000km my Silver Spirit crippled down when an old spike injured her left foot. Many friendly helpers on the sparsely traveled road though; within one hour my tire was fixed with a do-it-yourself-kit and all on-lookers (five cars in total) went, even more cautiously, on their own ways. The man who helped me out most had a flat half an hour later, so I could return the favor by assisting him again.
McCarthy is the little car-free town where all the 'wine, woman and song' was to be found in the mining days and that spirit remains lively today with the 200-or-so residents. It's only to be reached by a footbridge, and so is Kennecott 5miles up the road.
It was a treat to see this little erstwhile ghost town and the massive red complex that ones held all facilities needed for the mining and accommodating its workers. Three tram cables still lead up to the mining sites and there are strenuous hikes to all of them. Of course I set off to one of them and enjoyed super rugged and wild views of the surrounding valleys, glaciers and white mountaintops. Holy crap, it was so worth it.
Here as well the Alaskan hospitality was present, and that night I was eating fresh garden greens with spaghetti and wine before we headed to the open-mic night in the only little bar. Singers, musicians, performers, comedians and poets all passed the microphone, what talent in such a small gathering.
On the way up here I passed the Copper River, loaded with fat Red Salmon who are on their way to spawn in their streams of birth.
Huge wooden wheels are build to scoop those fighting muscles out of their unclear waters. With curiosity I drove up to learn more about it, only to be encountered with the enthusiastic words: “Fish? Do you wanna have Fish?” It turned out that my visit was dead on in the high-time and there was Salomon too much. All family and friends were already saturated, so passer-by’s were given part of the catch as well. Wiehoe! That night I made fresh Salmon with herbs and tomatoes in foil on a fire in the river bed. Of course I drove by on the way out too, but this time the Salmon was not only for me; I took it up to Joe, the firework man, and surprised him with a second visit, me brining dinner this time. And to make this stay even more sparkling we shot some colors and bangs into the air that evening.
Eve, 24, is a free-loving girl from Homer. I had met her in Costa Rica this January and she had invited me to ring the bell if I would arrive in her hometown. We had emailed beforehand, and it turned out that she was very busy this summer, flying to visit her mum, working in the coffee shop, spending time with her boyfriend Sailon and preparing for her trip to Burning Man and travel beyond that. I swooped her up from the airport in Anchorage, we drove down the Kenai Peninsula and in the next few days I saw her between all those activities. We managed to bake delicious fresh pies and bread and go horseback riding. And all the other hours I could indulge in the square box that will bring all of you this story and photos.
The third day she came back from the coffee shop and told me about one of her customers who had told her all about fishing on Kodiak Island. Boy, would I ever love to see how all that works. I decided to look more into it and gave it a call. Promising I would help out as much as I could as long as they would show me what fishing in Alaska is all about, I was send a flight itinerary for the next morning!!!!
Wow, Kodiak Island here I come!
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