Her name is Breezy. Her mother is an Alaskan husky and her father is a Karelian. She was born in a litter of 8 and was the remaining female when we retrieved her for our daughter Carlisle. She won us over, as most puppies will, the moment we cuddled her. She’s now 11 weeks old and full of wiggles and energy. She spends her days playing, eating and sleeping.
Breezy has the dot of tan in her forehead.
We reached out to our friend and vet tech Anja, who helped us make our selection. She provided us with a crate, collar, leash and armed us with the confidence needed to bring Breezy home to our cabin in Talkeetna. Pika wasn’t sure if she liked her new role as teacher and nanny, but accepted it with unexpected grace. Bucky and I, also questioned our strength and energy at raising a puppy until we could deliver her to Carlisle and Luke at their lodge further north, at Chandalar Lake. I’m not sure if Breezy was an easy puppy or nanny Pika’s modeling eased the process, but Breezy accepted her new crate and spent her first night and all the following nights crated without a whimper. I also found it convenient to use the crate during the day if we had an errand to run and Pika performed her nanny duties from her spot on the couch.
Better together
Breezy was at ease on car rides, in fact quickly fell asleep and slept most of the five hour drive in the motorhome to Luke and Lisle’s home in Fairbanks.
We spent several days in Fairbanks running errands and emptying food from our motorhome before the final leg of our trip by plane to Chandalar Lake, north of the Arctic Circle. Luke and Carlisle were anxious for Breezy’s arrival. Breezy was active in the office of Wright Air as we waited for our flight.
The hour and a half flight went quickly with Breezy sleeping on my lap. Dogs are required to be kenneled, but our flight was chartered by Luke and Lisle’s lodge, Tyrrell’s Trails, so Breezy was able to be loose.
Finally together!
Breezy quickly made herself at home among the many hunters, guides and packers. It was hard for most to ignore her wiggles and velvet soft fur. However, her dagger sharp teeth were avoided by all!
Lisle and I chose an unusually calm day to cross the lake and pick blueberries. The berries weren’t plentiful, but the scenery was superb.
We’ve been at Chandalar for a little over a week. Several hunters have been successful harvesting Dall sheep. At least one wolf has been killed and numerous caribou. Luke, Lisle and Rick, Luke’s dad, spend much of each day flying hunters in and out of the field as well as bringing trophies and meat back for processing. The camp is always busy with tents to clean, beds to make, meat to cut and meals to prepare. Bucky and I sleep in Luke and Lisle’s cabin which provides an escape when lodge life becomes too hectic. This is Bucky and my third summer at Tyrrell’s Trails and I’ve found areas where I can be helpful and others where it’s best to just step aside. It’s amazing when all the moving pieces come together and a hunter enjoys “the trip of a lifetime”. The lodge clientele is as varied as the animals they hunt. They are from all walks of life. Some hunters make return trips while others have scrimped and saved for one opportunity to hunt in Alaska.
We’re trying to teach Breezy to swim. Pika loves to swim and models this often. However, Breezy has yet to show Pika’s enthusiasm for being wet!
Sheep season will soon end with moose hunting upcoming. The tundra is changing color each day. We will probably hunt caribou within the next 10 days. Right now, the caribou aren’t where we normally hunt. We’re waiting and hoping they arrive soon.
10,197’ Mt. Redoubt is in Lake Clark National Park
I was anxious to get to the beach which was just in front of our motorhome. The air was filled with the customary sea smells and the loud shrieks of eagles feeding on beach carrion.
The drive from Kenai had been nothing short of spectacular. Fireweed cast a purple glow on both sides of the highway and rolled like an amethyst carpet into the nearby hills. Across Cook Inlet, the snow white peaks of Mt. Iliamna and Mt. Redoubt penetrated an azure blue sky, better known in our hometown as Middlebury blue.
10,016’ Mt. Iliamna also within Lake Clark National Park
I heard John Deere tractors start their engines preparing to launch fishing boats into halibut rich water. It’s an interesting process in which the boats are loaded on shore while still trailered. Tall step ladders are used to get people and gear onboard. The tractor then hooks to the trailer and backs the fully loaded boat from the beach into the ocean. Once buoyant, the boat is released from the trailer and motors away. The trailer is numbered and parked on the beach until the boat returns.
Exiting the water is much more exciting. If the tide is out, the tractors back far off shore. By use of some sort of communication, the boat notifies the tractor crew that it’s ready to come ashore. The boat bobs in deep water until its trailer is retrieved and backed into the ocean. Then, gathering speed, which might mean making a loop around to achieve, the boat pilot literally drives his boat onto the waiting trailer. Some boats approach with such speed it looks like a crash about to happen. Everyone and everything stays aboard until boat and trailer are safely on the beach. Only then are the high step ladders once again used to remove people and gear.
This large charter boat circles to gather speed before driving onto its trailer.
Our dog, Pika, discovered that the beach provided a seafood buffet. I found it impossible to prevent her from tasting the many appetizing fish parts so I let her have her way. Fortunately, this resulted in only a few upchucks. The following day she apparently had learned what pleased her palate and what didn’t as she walked past a number of ocean treasures.
The day was so beautiful that we took a selfie!
We packed up to leave our campsite just as numerous folks arrived to fish from the beach. This style of fishing seemed to rely on the tide. I was really hoping to see someone have success, but it didn’t happen. By the time they picked up to leave, the sun had lowered and a stiff wind blew. What had been T-
shirt weather now required hooded jackets.
I struggled to attach the correct names to the volcanoes we were seeing. Seldom have we seen them so clearly. I remembered a large panoramic display of the volcanoes at Anchor Point State Recreation Area, so we headed there. It helped me to use the acronym AIRS when viewing the four most prominent volcanoes from south to north. (Augustine, Iliamna, Redoubt, Spurr)
We left the coastline to revisit Nikolaevsk, a town settled by members of the Russian Orthodox Church and known as “Old Believers”. This sect of the Russian Orthodox Church adheres more strictly to old rituals and “beliefs”. Over three hundred people live in Nikolaevsk where both Russian and English are spoken.
We drove into the fireweed covered hills and stopped to eat a sandwich beside the road. From here we could look down into the valley below.
We passed well maintained houses and poorer looking homes. In some yards, large fishing boats were cradled, indicating a connection to the sea despite living in the hills. A large modern school was located not far from the post office and Orthodox Church.
We easily located Nina’s Cafe. Many years ago I bought a painted Russian spoon from Nina. I really hadn’t wanted or even needed the spoon but I bought it in an attempt to dissuade Nina from trying to sell me a very expensive lacquered tea set. That day, Nina had encouraged us, actually demanded that we eat borscht. She dressed us in traditional Russian attire and then took a picture of us standing among her nesting dolls and tea sets. I think she hoped we would pay for our glamour shot, but we didn’t.
We viewed her as a little crazy and left as quickly and politely as we could.
The Samovar Cafe
On this day, Nina’s cafe looked run down and its once beautifully painted exterior looked in need of repainting. The cafe looked permanently closed, but we were informed that Nina was still in business, but only serving guests by appointment. No longer are customers invited inside to be “encouraged “ by Nina to buy from her crowded shelves or eat borscht. They are now served outdoors on a picnic table.
Nina!
The dirt road from Nikolaevsk continues on to Homer located at the very end of the Kenai Peninsula. We chose to turn around in Nikolaevsk and head home. The following day we returned to our cabin in Talkeetna feeling glad to have once again experienced the Kenai Peninsula.
Our cabin!
Last night’s visitors. We have the best rain water in Talkeetna an no need to bend over when drinking!
Our first trip to Alaska was in 2008. After 10 days of travel from Vermont, we arrived road weary and somewhat dazed and confused. We pulled into the Anchorage Walmart with the intention of spending the night and had settled in when there was a knock on our door. A blue vested employee stood on the other side. He explained that no overnight stays were allowed and that his manager could ask us to leave in the middle of the night. He suggested we move across the street and park near Taco Bell. Taco Bell, was located at the edge of an huge parking lot surrounded by other businesses. The difference being that Taco Bell provided 24 hour service. What started out as normal parking lot traffic turned into something quite different as the stores around Taco Bell closed and the parking lot cleared of vehicles. It was then that the vacant blacktop turned into a drag strip for local racing enthusiasts. The night air was soon filled with the sound of squealing tires and the smell of burning rubber. We huddled in bed hoping an out of control vehicle wouldn’t be joining us there! By morning, we knew we had to leave the city, but, where?
So, on our daughter’s advise, we reached out to a friend of hers who immediately set our course.
He said, “to truly understand Alaska, you need to visit the ocean.”
So, that’s where we headed.
Until recently, I didn’t know that Alaska’s Aleut name is Alyeska, meaning, “that which the sea breaks against “. Nor did I know that Alaska has about 34,000 miles of shoreline including that of its islands, more than all the lower 48 states combined.
Our cabin in Talkeetna is inland, about 115 miles north of Anchorage. Talkeetna is surrounded by high mountains, like Denali, fast rushing glacial rivers, lakes and ponds, but no saltwater. Remembering the words of our old friend and seeing an extended forecast of sunny days, we packed the motorhome for the drive south to the Kenai Peninsula. I hoped the predicted clear weather would let us see the volcanoes that lie across Cook Inlet and my mouth also watered for a halibut steak!
We drove the Seward Highway from Anchorage to Seward.
I scanned the muddy water of the Turnagain Arm in search of Beluga Whales while alternately craning my neck in hope of seeing mountain goats on the rocky cliffs lining the Seward highway. On this day, neither white mammal appeared.
Our overnight in the small community of Hope was reminiscent of our first visit 17 years ago. Back then, we were awakened when our motorhome started shaking. Our first thought was earthquake which happens frequently, but a look out the window showed a large black bear busily pulling our cooler from the rear of the motorhome. To his surprise, after successfully removing it and prying it open, the only food inside was a head of iceberg lettuce. We watched as the bear left our campsite and climbed into the bed of our neighbor’s pickup and began rummaging through a pile of empty beer cans. The bear seemed to enjoy the noise created when digging through the cans, but moved on when no food was found. We were surprised no one woke to the noise, but then, we weren’t going outside either!
We’re still using our bear tooth engraved cooler.
Site of the cooler attack.
Resurrection Creek spilling into the Turnagain Arm in Hope, AK
The Seaview Cafe is a hopping place when a band is playing.
We were lucky to reserve a camp site directly on Resurrection Bay in Seward. From here we could watch the many boats using Seward harbor. A paved walkway was in front of our campsite, extending from the harbor to Seward downtown. It had a constant flow of traffic.
Totem, a very large brown Newfoundland dog, walked by with his owner. His owner was pushing a stroller containing her infant daughter who I would soon learn was named Elin. Totem came right over to us looking to be petted. I was happy to oblige. However, he quickly took advantage of my attention and when Elin needed her mother’s attention, he wandered off the walkway. Totem’s knowledge of finding people to pet him was definitely greater than his knowledge of recall. After repeated calls to him with no response, I offered to watch Elin so his owner could retrieve him. Looking into the stroller, I was met with chubby cheeks and pale blue eyes. She gave me a sweet smile before her mother returned.
The paved walkway was not only perfect for Elin’s stroller but also for the electric scooters and bikes ridden by kids camping nearby. Through youthful agility and excellent coordination they somehow managed to avoid colliding with less agile pedestrians. They chased each other down the walkway disappearing from sight only to return and speed by again. While this activity was happening close to our motorhome, at the water’s edge, young and old searched for treasures among the rocks and kelp.
The Silver Nova, a luxury ship and a new member of the Silversea fleet, silently exited Seward harbor. I was impressed with how little noise and how few waves this massive ship created. It backed out of the harbor and using bow thrusters, rotated around until headed out to sea. As I watched this skillful maneuver, I was struck by the contrast (seen in the video above) of a young boy’s simple pleasure in skipping rocks and the huge ship’s hull cutting through the water. Fishing boats, tour boats, jet skis and an occasional sailboat shared the harbor with the Silver Nova.
Torrential rain and streams of traffic accompanied us on the Sterling Highway from Seward to the city of Kenai. Vehicles in both lanes were loaded with coolers, dip nets and atvs, indicating the Sockeye were in!! Alaskans watch the fish reports closely and when the sockeye leave the ocean to make their spawning run up the rivers, they want to be there with their nets! Sockeye spend 2-4 years at sea where they eat hardy before heading to freshwater. The traffic indicated lots of Alaskans had “gone fishing “.
Our first campsite was at the Kenai Walmart annd unlike Anchorage, this Walmart had designated parking for RVs We felt lucky in finding a vacant spot as many fishermen had already set up their Walmart fish camps.
Note the dip nets in the truck bed.
Fish camp!
Waders are a necessity.
Dip nets can be used from boats and by standing in the water. The number of salmon allowed to be taken can change depending on the escapement. Escapement refers to the number of salmon that have survived to return to their spawning grounds.Salmon numbers are carefully monitored by multiple means, humans counting fish by the use of weirs and counting fish using aircraft are just two of these.
I heard that this late sockeye run was being described by some as “massive”. Strict fishing rules need to be followed and can change at any time if salmon numbers increase or decrease. The head of household can keep the largest number of fish and additional fish for each dependent. Fishermen can also keep fish by proxy, for individuals too elderly or unable to fish for themselves. It’s definitely a family activity and the RVs parked near us at Walmart were filled with adults, children, infants and dogs.
Some fishermen prefer to sleep on the beach, close to the action.
I walked along the beach toward the mouth of the Kenai River where it empties into Cook Inlet. The largest number of fishermen were crowded at this point where the fish get funneled in their swim upstream. Although a passerby told me of the free hotdogs being offered at a large white tent at the mouth, I decided to stay where there were fewer people. Although this could indicate the fish would be farther from shore, people seemed to be having luck. However, as the tide went out, fishermen were forced to walk over sand and sticky mud a long way to reach the water.
Fishermen are specks across the mud with Mt Spurr above.
There were some large groups of people on the beach with music playing, tables covered in cooking supplies and food and tents erected for rest. It exuded a party atmosphere. Other fishermen seemed more solitary, focused on simply fishing.
Perhaps a little late to the party, as the tide recedes. .
Fishing is a family activity.
The Sockeye were “chrome” and large.
For those reading this and wondering why we’re not fishing, only resident Alaskans are allowed to dip net!
A benefit to residency!
This fellow born and living in Kenai told me, “it’s the best fishing I’ve seen in my lifetime.
We continued down the Sterling Highway and headed onto Kasilof Beach Road to see if the salmon were as plentiful here.
“Those roads provided breath-taking views. There's something special about an empty road going on and on and on to the horizon where the sun burns the world away into a dancing, shimmering heat haze that reflects the crystal blue sky, literally blurring the line between heaven and earth.” Dave Gorman
“Did you see that antelope?” my husband, Bucky asked.
“No, where?” I said, lifting my eyes from my phone.
I realized then just how much of my time was being spent looking at a screen rather than at the world outside. My Candy Crush game could never be more exciting than seeing an antelope acknowledge our presence then bound effortlessly into a coulee and disappear. Some call the antelope “speed goat”. Speed is indeed an apt name as this athletic animal can run at speeds up to 60mph. Perhaps their horns resemble those of a goat. I find the pronghorn to be one of the West’s most gorgeous creatures.
With my phone tucked snugly in my seat pocket, the wonders of Montana, Alberta and British Columbia appeared.
Montana watering hole!
“If these walls could talk”
It’s hard to spend any time in Montana without seeing cattle, horses, miles of fence, churches and barns. Old homesteads sitting on hillsides, their wooden frames being claimed by the very land their occupants once cleared, abandoned and beckoning their stories to be told.
Mule Deer
Chinook, MT
Havre, MT
The Canadian border is a mere 44 mile drive, through quiet ranch land, from Havre to Wild Horse, MT. Here we were greeted by an attractive female border agent whose petite stature was enveloped by her official blue jacket. I was surprised by the layers of delicate gold necklaces she wore and her discrete but evident nose ring. Was it a display of Canadian liberalism or an example of western freedom. Wild Horse is a long ways from Ottawa!
We were asked the usual entry questions but nothing about our possessing fruits or vegetables. As we drove away I thought of how delicious my recently purchased lime would taste immersed in my end of day cocktail.
Alberta is Canada’s largest oil producing province. With that said, every town we passed through is evidence of this. Mud covered white pickups, tandem tanker and large gravel haulers line the gravel in front of restaurants and lodging. Towns and businesses exist to support the oil fields.
While some pump sites are visible from the highway, most are far off the main road which provides to our view huge vistas of seemingly endless wilderness. However, this woodland is periodically punctuated by muddy side roads leaving the highway and signage indicating oil field locations. I have to imagine things appear quite different looking down from above.
Interesting rig
Smoke from the wildfires now burning in BC have created a haze over green hills and valleys and could be clearly smelled. Cool air and a steady breeze helped.
Mile 0 of the AK Highway, Dawson Creek, BC 2900 miles from Ripton, VT, and now only 1616 miles to Talkeetna, AK
