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!
