LOVE AFFAIR WITH ALASKA: Part 13

Alaska. Adventure. Excitement. I love all three. So while enjoying Skagway, I was ready for something different, happy to leave Skagway and cruise all night on Glacier Bay toward Icy Strait Point, which is located near the city of Hoonah. Although called the largest Tlingit Indian settlement in Alaska, Hoonah houses only 800 people. Note: click on photos to enlarge.

 

On the way to Icy Strait Point.

 

A view snapped through the dining room window 

as we feasted on a delectable seafood dinner.

Below is a reflection of me taking a picture from one of the decks. When cruising, we often enjoyed eating breakfast or lunch out there.

  

  

A small slice of civilization above.

 

Two tenders wait to transport passengers to Icy 

Strait Point. I took the picture from the cruise ship.

  

Coming in to Icy Strait Point and the little village of Hoonah.

  

Tourists and fishing keep this village afloat.

  

Hubby Ron and brother-in-law Bob on one of the nature trails.

Ron peering through the roots of a tree.

The flowers here were abundant and gorgeous, a photographer's paradise. So excited about all the picture-taking opportunities, I became separated from Ron, Bob, and sister-in-law Nita. Not to worry, I thought. And then I realized I had no purse, money, cell phone or boarding pass to get back on the ship. An hour later Ron and I found each other, but I now understand how panicky a lost child must feel. Ron and I have learned now to always pick a meeting point in case we get separated.

Just one of the many pictures I took. I couldn't decide 

which photo to show you, so I've included both the one 

above and the one below. Which do you prefer?

  

As we were boarding the tender for the short trip back to the ship, I saw the kayakers below heading out to explore. Most of them looked like novices eager for an adventure.

 

 

 

 Enlarge to see the guide's rubber boat with motor in the upper right hand corner.

From the tender I watched whales surface near the kayakers. So did their guide. He immediately circled the kayakers and herded them closer to shore. The whale nearest the tender was blowing; I saw steam coming out of his hole. Wish I'd been in one of those kayaks! I watched until they were out of sight. 

For any of you who like zip line rides, the world's longest cable ride at 5,330 feet long with a 1,300 foot vertical drop is located in Hoonah. Even though I'm afraid of heights, I thought about making this my first zip line adventure. After all, I reasoned, it would look good on my obituary. I changed my mind when I learned that I'd accelerate to a maximum speed of 60 mph on this 1.5 minute ride. Learned later than a man had had a heart attack that day while "zipping."

LOVE AFFAIR WITH ALASKA: Part 12

The word "Skagway," the next port on our cruise, evoked visions of a rough, don't-dare-go-there town. I was wrong. I really liked Skagway, another bustling tourist town with about 17 jewelry stores. The gateway to the Klondike gold fields in 1898, now only 825-860 hardy citizens live there year round.

Skagway was not what I had imagined.

 

Saloons still abound--there were about 80 during the gold rush days.

This building fascinated me. Click to enlarge photo. 

A public toilet next to main street. Hmm. Interesting.

We scheduled our tours for the day: a sight-seeing bus ride of Skagway and up the mountains to the Canadian line in the morning; a three-hour train ride on the White Pass & Yukon Railroad (narrow-gauge rails) in the afternoon. The bus tour was nice. The train ride was spectacular! If doing it again, I'd skip the bus tour and take the train, maybe even the five-hour train ride instead of the three-hour one.

In the picture above, we're chugging along the river in Skagway toward steep mountains and the Canadian border. We traveled across the White Pass and the trail gold seekers followed in 1898. My pictures don't begin to do justice to this majestic and rugged territory.

Once mid September arrives, the weather turns frigid. Unlike Skagway, many towns close down. The trains, with a heater in each car, are the lifelines to those hardy folks who live way back in the mountains. No roads exist in this wilderness, so if a mountaineer needs food or other supplies, he must contact the railroad and arrange for his goods to be dropped off at a pre-arranged location. Trains must push deep snow off the rails in order to keep the trains going. The railroad, originally used to haul ore from the Yukon Territory mines, closed in the 1980s but re-opened in 1988. It now carries over 430,000 visitors a year.

 A shot of the train ahead of us. I stood between the cars to take it and the one below.

I braced myself against the side railing to shoot this and many more. Even though I didn't feel comfortable when I was between cars, I would have been sorry if I hadn't done it. Besides, I figured it would make an interesting obituary.

Can it get any better than this?

A rushing river.

Almost back to Skagway.

An unidentified passenger watching us cast off.

What a day! When I awake in the morning we'll be at Icy Strait Point. I'm so glad we took this cruise!

LOVE AFFAIR WITH ALASKA: Part 11

Lots of time has elapsed since I last blogged about my love affair with Alaska and "visiting" Hubbard Glacier. After leaving Hubbard, our ship chugged toward Juneau, Alaska's capital. Below is just one of the shots I took along the way. Nice scenery, huh? Be sure to click to enlarge the pictures.

A touristy town, Juneau is clean and interesting. Bald eagles seem to be everywhere. We learned that the only way in and out of Juneau (except for the local roads) is by air or boat. Because Juneau is landlocked, several years ago Alaskans voted to move the capital to Anchorage. The legislature approved the move, but when folks realized how much that would cost they decided Juneau would remain the capital! Smart people, the Alaskans; they pay as they go.

A shot of Juneau before we docked.

 Flowers abound in Juneau.

Juneau is loaded with jewelry stores.

 A view of the docks.

The next morning we rode a tour bus to Mendenhall Glacier, the most easily accessed glacier of the Juneau Icefield. Mendenhall receives over half a million visitors a year, and offers several trails to explore the area on foot. Mendenhall receives over 100 feet of snow annually. Because our time was limited, we chose to take advantage of the visitor center for a quick education on glaciers, vegetation and wildlife. I'd like to re-visit it some day. Actually, I'd like to re-visit Alaska!

Mendenhall Glacier. Note the gray color of the water.

At Macaulay Salmon Hatchery's visitor's center, we learned much about salmon and the corporation called Douglas Island Pink and Chum, or DIPAC, founded in the 1970s "to sustain and enhance the valuable salmon recources for the State of Alaska. . . ." We also tasted some of their delicious salmon products.

Macaulay Salmon Hatchery

Sunset aboard ship in Juneau.

Picture above is of Juneau just before pulling anchor and cruising all night to Skagway. I really enjoyed Juneau. Skagway was just as much fun. But that's another blog.

LOVE AFFAIR WITH ALASKA: Part 10

Our first full day at sea began with a way-too-huge breakfast. Because there are so many different food stations in the cafeteria, we browsed, taking a muffin or sweet roll from one, bacon or sausage and an omelet from another, mounds of fresh melons, strawberries, pineapple from another. One station served pancakes and waffles smothered in butter and any type of syrup you desired.


Thick clouds and fog rolled in, and the Captain said, "It was a dark and stormy. . . ." I'm just kidding; he didn't say that. But he did warn us that we wouldn't see much of Hubbard Glacier-- the largest tidewater glacier on the North American continent--because of weather conditions.



But the fog cleared! Straight ahead of us (photo below) loomed Hubbard Glacier standing at 11,000 feet above sea level.



We cheered. Our joyous Captain cheered. I'd heard so much about Hubbard Glacier while researching our trip that not being able to get close would have disappointed me a lot.



Navigating these icy waters is dangerous. Icebergs become bottom-heavy and can tip over at any time. And where icebergs are concerned, what you see is NOT what you get. Only 10% of an iceberg is above water. Usually large ships like ours get no closer than three-quarters of a mile to Hubbard Glacier.


Our Captain took us to within one-quarter mile of the glacier, and because conditions were perfect, we stayed two hours instead of the usual 30 minutes. The glaciers creaked and groaned.



When air gets in the ice, it turns blue (top of above photo) and is ready to calve (break off). Many sections calved while we watched. The chunks sounded like vibrating cannons when they crashed into the water.


About an hour after we arrived a smaller ship joined us, but didn't venture as close to the glacier as our ship.


I marveled at the brilliant blues in this scene as we left Hubbard Glacier and steamed toward Juneau. What a perfect day.

LOVE AFFAIR WITH ALASKA: Part 8

After visiting the Alaska Pipeline (see post LOVE AFFAIR WITH ALASKA: Part 7) in Fairbanks, we boarded the riverboat Discovery II and cruised the Chena and Tanana Rivers.



From the riverboat, we watched a float plane land and take off. As I mentioned in a previous post, float planes are common in Alaska, and are often docked alongside boats.




We passed the Trail Breaker Kennel and the home where Susan Butcher, an Iditarod champion who won the 1,100-mile sled dog race four times, lived with her husband Dave Monson. Susan led the only climbing party to the top of Mt. McKinley, which is 20,320-feet tall and the highest point on the North American continent--and she did it by dog team! She died of leukemia in 2006. Her husband and their two daughters continue to care for, raise and train sled dogs. Her sled dog Granite led the teams that won the four Iditarod races. The book "Granite" tells the story of Susan Butcher and her lead sled dog. Started by Susan, her husband finished it after his wife's death. Even though it's a child's book, I plan to buy a copy.

Trail Breaker Kennel

Trail Breaker Kennel sled dogs preparing to train.

We tied up at the Chena Indian Village where Athabascan Indians took us on a fascinating one-hour guided tour of the village.

The Athabascan Indian woman above expertly demonstrated how to clean and filet salmon. Be sure to click on the picture. After cleaning, she hung the fish in the cabin pictured below. Salmon are the mainstay of these villages. The cabins are made of spruce.

Salmon hung up to dry.

In the picture above, the Indian girl is wearing an Athabascan Yukon-style winter parka made of fur pelts. This particular young lady is a sophomore in college. The other girl we talked with was leaving for college a week later.

Below is a primitive shelter made of spruce logs with spruce boughs draped over the top. Animal pelts cover the floor.

The fur-covered hut below looks much warmer than the one above. If you have the pelts with you, then I guess this would be the way to go, although I'd like pelts on the floor, too.

Remember the old TV days when Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone had birch bark canoes? Well, the one above is the real thing made without any metal fasteners. And now I'm resisting the urge to sing, "Born on a mountain top in Tennessee . . . " and "Daniel Boone was a man, a big man . . . " I can almost hear all y'all singing, too.

From the riverboat we could see Fairbanks (above). In the other photos in this blog post, you'd think we were in the boondocks. We were. But in Alaska, the cities appear to be dropped into the wilderness. And there's a LOT of wilderness in Alaska!