Larger than Life

Leaves littered our gravel drive on the chilly September morning when we began the long drive back to Vermont. Traveling east through Canada's western provinces is always enjoyable with 577 miles of  Alaska Highway within the Yukon being the most spectacular. 

Yukon's slogan, “larger than life” is no exaggeration. Traveling south on the Alaska Highway, we arrive in the Yukon shortly after leaving Alaska, near the town of Beaver Creek. This fall, the aspen, birches and tamaracks were particularly bright and painted the roadsides and mountains in a palette of yellows and golds.

A favorite stretch of road is from Haines Junction to Kluane Lake. Here, the St Elias Mountains tower on the west side of the highway. Present, but not seen from the road, is Canada’s highest peak, Mt Logan at 19,520 feet. We travel a ribbon of road lodged between glacial rivers and snow covered rock peaks. The mountain crevices hold glaciers, forced downward by gravity into rugged valleys below. 

The Kluane National Park and Reserve of Canada, in conjunction with the Wrangell-St Elias and Glacier Bay National Parks and Preserves in Alaska and the Tatshenshini-Alsek Provincial Park in British Columbia, combine to form the earth’s largest non-polar ice field. I find each new vista to be more beautiful that the one just photographed. I keep my camera on my lap, continually lifting it to find another mountain peak and glacier in my view finder. I never tire of the scenery as it varies with time of day, weather and season. This year snow came early and already the hillsides are white. The ponds and streams we pass are ice covered and migrating swans congregate in remaining pockets of open water.

Looking toward the southern end of Kluane Lake. I often include vehicles in my photos as they provide a known object by which to make a size comparison in this enormous landscape. 

Kluane Lake is the largest lake entirely in the Yukon. It has water depths exceeding 200 feet, lake shore that is mostly inaccessible by road and is known to have excellent fishing. During the past decade, we have seen the lake's water level drop. Water once passed under the bridge at the lake's south end, but this is now an area of dry sand. Glacial water which fed Kluane Lake, is no longer flowing.

Glacial melt from the Kaskawulsh Glacier no longer enters the Slims River, but instead is taking an alternate route into the Kaskawulsh River. This river takes water away from Kluane Lake. Without water from the Slims River, Kluane is slowly drying up. No one knows if this change is permanent. However, where water once was is now dry silt, When the wind blows hard enough, which seems to be quite often, this powdery sand is lifted up creating a dust storm in front of travelers.

                                                   

In the spring, it's not unusual to see bears on this stretch of highway, but in the fall we're more likely to see caribou. We were really excited to see the Takhini elk herd just north of Whitehorse. We have only seen these elk a few times and it's been cows. This time a nice bull herded cows and young animals close to the road so we had a good look.

After leaving the Yukon, we planned an evening spent camping in British Columbia at Liard River Hot Springs Provincial Park. I looked forward to relaxing in the warm water after a long day of riding. However, after settling into our campsite, we both felt more like a cocktail in our recliners than battling the wind and cool rain. So, the following morning after coffee, we walked the quarter mile or so from our campsite to the springs. It's such a a well maintained area. We immediately noticed the addition of a high electric fence around the campground. There has always been a lot of signage warning of bears, but evidently the need to discourage had escalated. There were also signs saying loud noise, probably air horns, would be used to discourage bears.

Herds of bison appeared along the highway. We saw one young calf still nursing. The spring calves we had seen in June were now twice this calf's size. It was sad to think that this young animal would probably not make it through the winter with the presence of wolves. I didn't take a single photo of these animals as I've done so regularly in the past. 

Caribou aren't quite as common so I raised my camera for them. I view them as a very odd looking animal. I think the caribou cows somewhat resemble a dairy cow and unlike deer, caribou often seem clueless. However, I've witness the speed at which a caribou herd can cover the hummocks and tussocks of the tundra, heads to the ground, eating while maintaining a steady pace. 

Approximately, half of our drive from Vermont to Alaska is within Canada. As much as we enjoy the Canadian people, towns, landscape and animals I feel a sense of relief when we re-enter the US. Perhaps it's the unusual times we're experiencing, but I felt particularly proud when the US border agent, after asking the customary questions of,"How long were you in Canada? Did you purchase anything in Canada?",  handed back our passports and said,  

"Welcome home".

Termination Dust

My mother loved golds and yellows and with her favorite jet black beads coiled around her neck and swooping the front of her gold satin blouse, her exquisite sense of fashion was impossible to ignore. Each square of her windowpane checked skirt was defined by a subtle gold thread. I often marveled at her ability to pull individual pieces of clothing together, resulting in a most unique presentation. Although she carried some extra pounds, it sat atop two of the most shapely legs. Shiny black patent pumps completed her outfit. I don’t remember her ever wearing black clothing, although it's said to make the wearer look slim and my mother had a life long battle with the scale. Her colorful love of life seemed to forbid the wearing of such a morbid color except as an accessory. 

My mother died seventeen years ago on September 22. I often think of her as the emerald green leaves of  summer lose life, gently releasing their hold and falling to the ground.

Cool nights and copious August rain have changed the Alaskan birch and aspen leaves into trembling wisps of yellow. The Ostrich ferns that stood tall and emerald green in the summer heat now hug the earth like a fringed brown carpet.

One season must end before another begins. It seems mere days ago that warm air enveloped us and heated the lakes and rivers where we sought reprieve from July’s heat. Now, the autumn sun struggles to yield warmth before it slides behind the birches and dives from sight. On these September days, I find myself carrying my lawn chair around the yard, chasing the sun for its weak heat.

Our stay in Alaska will soon end and we’ll begin our drive home to Vermont. This has been a routine since 2008. I’m anxious to return to Vermont where the hillsides spew a rainbow of fall colors but, I also know that at some point during the winter I’ll long for the mountains and rivers of Alaska.

Ripton, Vermont

Knik Glacier 

chipping ice

As cold weather arrives in Alaska, glaciers once again freeze and run off diminishes. Glacial fed rivers become shallow and with less silt in the water they become clear. Slowly, the mud grey water of summer turns a Caribbean blue.

Robert Frost

The Steese Highway

Thick fog surrounded our RV at 3685 ft, the top of Eagle Summit. Persistent rain hit the windshield and slithered down with the consistency of water transitioning to snow. Hundreds of hunters in every type of shelter camped exposed on barren ridge lines below the summit. An occasional tent was staked in the roadside ditch, protected from the wind, in an effort to avoid being uplifted and blown away in Mary Poppins fashion. A brightly colored beach umbrella lay crumpled against a side hill, deposited far from any campsite.

Our visit to North Pole, near Fairbanks Alaska, was to include a few days of camping beside the Chena River and a day spent soaking in Chena Hot Springs. This plan abruptly changed following a drive northeast of Fairbanks to Ski Land. I was interested in seeing this small ski area described by our daughter, Carlisle, as a step back in time and reminiscent of Vermont’s ski area history.

 

Ski Land sits atop Cleary Pass, one of three passes along the 161 mile Steese Highway stretching from Fairbanks to Circle. It’s here that the northernmost chair lift in North America is found. We found it interesting that ski customer parking, ski rental and lodge are at the top of the lift and not at the base. If the lift were to break down, it’d be quite a hike back to the car. From the mountain top we were given a panoramic view of the White Mountains, the excavation surrounding Fort Knox a huge open pit gold mine and places far beyond. 

                                       Do you see the trucks working down in Fort Knox?

https://youtu.be/dOonPI1YsMQ

Chatanika Lodge is found about 15 miles up the highway beyond Ski Land. We took a look inside and if we hadn’t just eaten, the cheese steak sandwiches and dredge burgers looked amazing. A middle aged man was busy talking to Shirley, the owner. My ears perked up when he asked if many Johnny Cash fans visited. She looked puzzled. He went on to explain that he was visiting the 92 places mentioned in Cash’s song, “I’ve Been Everywhere”. Shirley maintained a puzzled look as she asked if he was sure it was Chatanika and not Chattanooga.

                             Christmas in August!

The fellow replied with confidence that it was indeed Chatanika and would she like him to recite for memory all the towns mentioned? To this, Shirley, apparently still confused, politely answered, “no” and handed him his burger. A check with Google confirmed it was indeed Chatanika. We later learned that this man worked for the airlines which facilitated his worldwide travel. He was accompanied by his wife and son who both seemed equally interested in his quest. His son smiled between bites of his dredge burger as his dad told Shirley that Chatanika was one of the final six remaining towns left of the 92. 

Both Shirley and I were momentarily distracted by a pretty, blond haired woman picking up a take out order, 20 dredge burgers for Knox Mine. The bill was $220 and she had forgotten her credit card. Shirley's husband was quick to say, "No worries, stop back later with your card".  Was it her youthful good looks or are the folks of Chatanika as trusting as a Johnny Cash lyric?

As we drove further away from civilization, we weren’t surprised to find the shoulders of the highway crowded with hunters, atvs and trailers. Caribou hunting had begun. The road transitioned from pavement to well maintained dirt and the RV melded into the hunting scenery, except for our VT license plates.

               Snuggled in for the night.

The treeless landscape allowed hunters to glass for migrating caribou, seeing for miles in all directions. The road took us down into creek bottoms still being mined and up to high summits shrouded in fog. Groups of hunters seemed to have favored locations, either snug beside a clear brook or buffeted by wind up high.

We weren’t here to hunt, but to see two towns at the end of the Steese Highway, Central at mile 127.7 and Circle at 161.3, only 50 miles south of the Arctic Circle. These towns had meaning to me as I follow the Yukon Quest, a 1000 mile dogsled race between Whitehorse, Yukon and Fairbanks AK. Some of the most challenging terrain of the race lies in the area we’re exploring.

Old mining equipment on display outside the Circle District Historical Society Museum, located in Central. Unfortunately, the museum wasn’t open. Central was once known as Central House and is on Crooked Creek, within one of the oldest and richest mining districts in Alaska.

 

Central has no school and a population of 86 hardy souls. The Milepost describes Central as being subarctic with, ”winters that are long and harsh and summers warm and short”. It appeared, during this visit, that summer was nearing an end. From Central Corner, seen in the video above, we headed down  Circle Hot Springs Road, also in Central. I often felt we were talking in circles as many things in  Central referred to Circle. We were surprised how well maintained the roads were in towns of small population and so far from Fairbanks. Power poles dotted the roadside here while much of our town of Talkeetna has no power. We knew Circle Hot Springs had been closed for years but hoped for a closer look than we obtained.

                              It appeared as though some hunters had traveled by airplane.

                               Circle Hot Springs appeared empty and eerie on this cloudy day. It would have been fun to have seen the springs, but numerous no trespassing signs indicated it wouldn't be wise.

We continued on from Central driving through low wet areas and high hills. We navigated around numerous hairpin turns before finally arriving in Circle, on the bank of the mighty Yukon River. 

Circle was once the largest gold mining town on the Yukon until the Klondike rush of 1898 and the rapid growth of Dawson City. Now, Circle has a population of 108 and a school of 20 plus students, Pre-k through grade 12. Circle has survived both floods and wildfire.

             Lunch and 💤 beside the Yukon. We LOVE our house on wheels!

Rasmussen House, built in 1909 seen through raindrops on our windshield.

As is often the case, our return to Fairbanks seemed to present entirely different scenery despite covering the same ground, just in reverse. Pull offs that were crowded before were now packed with hunters leaving no room for us to squeeze in. We felt lucky to finally find a spot and be the only ones there. However, it wasn’t long before we had numerous neighbors. I really enjoyed watching young sons and daughters included in their parents' hunt. Dressed in camouflage, they bopped around the pick up trucks, fussed with hunting gear and sat eating a meal cooked on a camp stove, under a tarp. Everyone smiling despite the drizzle. Whether the hunt was successful or not, I could see memories being made. I felt equally as fortunate to be in our warm RV, cooking on my 3 burner stove, using my indoor toilet and crawling into my queen size bed.

                     Cows and calves crossing in front of us.

Success!

                     

All that glitters......,,

The fur on the Grizzly's neck gleamed golden in the sun, merging with the wet brown fur of its legs as it fished in the clear water. It paid no attention to our helicopter passing overhead, neither did the cow moose standing knee deep in a kettle pond, one of the many ponds dotting the valley landscape. Beneath us, the creek banks were lined by Alder and Willow and silt laden braids of the Susitna River flowed toward the sea. Brown islands of beetle killed spruce stood like silent sentinels in an otherwise green landscape. 

Our helicopter steadily gained altitude and the Kanikula Glacier came into view with its rock covered terminus and melting rivulets of ice water. In the past, I've seen moose standing on the glacier's tail as if on a foreign planet, but smartly placed out of the reach of hunters. We abruptly banked hard left sweeping into the steep sided Bear Creek valley.

These AK hills and streams are known to hold GOLD. So, in keeping with the 2021 summer Olympics and honoring our golden years (Bucky just turned 75), we became gold seekers. 

Bucky began our search by walking up Bear Creek toward its source in the hills; however, we never made it up very high. The Willow and Alder grabbed at our ankles and unseen raised roots sabotoged each step. The steep slope created a fast running current with water too deep for our knee boots. We had no choice but to head back downstream. I had hoped the abundance of Willow would yield a Willow Rose, but none appeared.

Here Bucky was able to shovel desirable river dirt into his spackle bucket, while I enjoyed the wild flowers and birds that surrounded us. He eliminated large rock and worked through his dirt leaving what seemed promising to be sifted further at camp. Mosquitoes hummed and occasionally hit their target but weren’t a big problem. After taking dirt from three different sites, we headed back to camp, looking forward to a Mountain House dehydrated meal which taste surprisingly good at times like this. 

Bucky sat on the creek bank sifting dirt and sand. Finally, the dirt was reduced to fine grains of sand that could be shifted easily back and forth over the ridges of his gold pan. Occasionally a flash of gold could be seen. It resembled the glitter bought in tubes for a child's art creation, minute specks that appeared, disappeared and then reappeared. These golden pin points would slide beneath larger grains of sand making them impossible to retrieve. Eventually, the pan was washed clean and the process repeated with the remaining dirt.

It didn't dawn on me until I began writing. how aptly named the Golden Crowned Sparrow is for this post. Their melodious song could be heard from a great distance while the flow of water over the rocks of Bear Creek provided a steady background cadence. Remote areas such as this, where nature is so close at hand, where birds do not fly in fright and where rodents become pets, generate feelings of relaxation, hopefulness and rejuvenate one's spirit.

Our evenings were spent watching shadows form on the hills and clouds come and go across the high peaks. 

This is one of the loveliest spots we have seen in Alaska and it's only a half hour flight from our cabin in Talkeetna. (see in archives January 22, 2019 for our first visit)

Around 7:30 one evening, we watched a large black bear move laterally across the terrain. The black fur was easily seen against a green background . Anything seen as large with the naked eye in this big country, is BIG. We watched as the bear dipped into ravines disappearing from view only to reappear yards away. The bear crossed snow fields and at one point ran quickly forward as if startled or chasing something.We  talked about what might have prompted this. I found myself imagining this bear’s thoughts and what life would be like as a bear in Bear Creek Valley. I had heard the story behind Carlisle’s large bear hide hanging in our cabin. Up here, man is the sole predator of these animals. I include this image so you see the bear as we did.

We saw moose both from the helicopter and while sitting at camp. We watched a cow stride effortlessly through brush, its head high above the branches and within minutes it disappeared into the safety of Denali National Park. I thought of our walk the previous day, navigating tangles and the time it took to go a short distance. Taking strides with long legs that defied the entanglement of Alder and Willow, the moose had no difficulty covering the steep terrain. A large bull moose, accompanied by two cows, innocently displayed a massive set of antlers as our helicopter flew by. He would be smart to be less obvious next month when hunting season arrives.

                       Can you find the moose in this picture?

   

I’d like my next image to be of a large gold nugget, a chunk of yellow metal that through the ages has been sought after, fought over and has adorned the bodies of the wealthy. I would have mounted mine in a ring or necklace, but that’s not possible. We had  low expectations of finding gold so there was zero disappointment, but instead, a reminder of our many riches. Gold is found in many forms and is available for us all to mine. 

Our buddy. He liked my dish washing bowl. His perfectly erect posture, balanced on his tail, is a story in itself. We never named him and just when we thought he was a solitary ground squirrel, we started seeing him in multiple places!

“Hiding in the glorious wildness like unmined gold”.         John Muir

Our return trip to Talkeetna was as interesting as our arrival. We passed some large gold mines in Petersville that had been in family possession for generations. The digging at these mines was not by hand and shovel, but by large equipment. However, it’s the same process, large rocks are discarded, water is used to separate material until it becomes finer and finer with gold always sinking to the bottom. 

I’ve included a few pictures that I liked but couldn’t fit into the text.

           This outhouse had the most outstanding view!