Denali, a whiter white

I listened while Carlisle hastily threw $2.50 in quarters into the coin slot of her washer.  I quickly did the same.  Perhaps I could beat her and hear water enter my machine before she closed her lid.  Doing laundry at the Laundry Mat (real name) needed some excitement, as neither of us wanted to be here on this sunny day.  It was between the rinse and spin cycles that we decided to drive into town, seeking the impossible, two vacant seats on a flightsee of Denali.

Our view of Denali as we approached Talkeetna

We sat in the sun outside K2 Aviation, hoping to hear our names called.  Those around us spoke of having made reservations months in advance.  They spoke with foreign accents so often heard in Talkeetna.  Folks from around the world want to see Deanli up close, just as we did!  "The mountain" had  been visable now for a number of days with a high pressure system stalled overhead.  Denali is often elusive during the summer months with many visitors never seeing her.  Bucky and I spent one whole summer never seeing the summit.  We were surprised last April, when Denali and her neighbors, Hunter and Foraker were "out" everyday.  At that time, no tourists were around to witness her looking down upon us. Carlisle and I laughed at how ill prepared we were for a glacier landing, if Lady Luck prevailed, Lisle in a sundress and me with no sunglasses.

With surprise, we heard our names called.  We quickly grabbed snow boots from a bin marked small, and headed inside to be weighed.  Then we joined our fellow passengers listening to our pilot explain where the exits,  fire extinguisher, survival gear and most importantly, the barf bags were located.  I wondered if all K2 pilots wore Hawaiian shirts as part of their uniform. Perhaps as a spoof.....sun as hot as the tropics, snow as bright as a white sand beach!  

Woody, Carlisle and James' yellow and white airplane, gave an imagined dirty look as I snapped his picture going past.  He surely didn't understand why he remained tied down on such a glorious day.  I knew if we had been flying him into the Alaska range, we'd have been better attired.  It was then that I gave a brief thought to our laundry. It was surely done and by now had probably been thrown onto a sorting table by an annoyed customer.

The importance of the rivers that influenced the early settlement of Talkeetna is clear from the air. Soon we would be flying into glacial headwaters.  In the heat of summer, the glaciers continue to melt keeping the water grey with glacial silt, resembling a river of cement.  Right now, sight unseen, Sockeye Salmon swim by the thousands to their home spawning grounds.  By fall, cold temperatures will lock up the glaciers and the rivers will once again run clear.

The long strip in the center of this picture is the train track running north to Fairbanks.  The landing strip seen to the right is the village air strip located in downtown Talkeetna.  A small part of the Talkeetna River, looking like a small lake, is seen before it takes a turn under the railroad trestle to join the Susitna and Chulitna Rivers......headed to Cook Inlet and the ocean.

Our path to Denali and into the Alaska Range was by way of the Ruth Glacier, one of the many glaciers exiting the mountains.

Carlisle and I passed my camera back and forth across the aisle, each view seemingly more spectacular than the last.  I must confess that despite our pilot's detailed commentary, by the time we circled a number of times, all glaciers and mountain peaks began to look the same.....equally magnificent!

Denali was first mentioned in 1794 when spotted from Cook Inlet by explorer George Vancouver. Early Russian explorers and traders called the peak Bolshaia Gora, big mountain.  The Athabascan Indians of the region called it Denali, the high one.  In 1896, a prospector named William Dickey, named the mountain McKinley.  Many felt the mountain should have its native name of Denali.  This became reality in 2015 when the name was officially changed to Denali at the federal level.  The first true summit ascent of Denali was made in June 1913 by Hudson Stuck, Walter Harper, Harry Karstens and Robert Tatum.  Stuck recorded this climb in his book, The First Ascent.  About 1000 people attempt to summit Denali each year between May and July, with about half succeeding.  Some consider it a more difficult feat than summitting Mt. Everest.

                                                Denali's summit at 20,310 feet making it the highest peak in North America.

Our turbine Otter's skis slid along the surface of the Ruth Glacier with barely a bump.  I was quickly reminded of my lack of preparedness when I stepped off the plane. Never had snow seemed so bright.  The reason climbers return to Talkeetna from their climbing adventures with racoon eyes became readily apparent.  

It was impossible not to feel small in the midst of nature's greatness.  This was my second glacier landing in the Alaska Range, first on the Eldridge and now on the Ruth.  It was as awe inspiring this time as in the past.  

Some of the most beautiful scenery was during our return to Talkeetna.  Slowly the ice and snow  disappeared and green reappeared, much like winter returning to spring.

  

  This is Backside Lake at the terminus of Backside Glacier.  Bucky and I hope to fly in here for the day before we leave.

It wasn't long before we were back to earth feeling delighted with our luck. Racing for the truck we hurried off to the Laundry Mat.  As predicted, our clothes lay in a wet pile on the white folding table.  A bit of silence accompanied our entrance.  I scanned the faces looking for who we had offended.  Someone here had decided that today was a day to strive for white tee shirts and socks.  I was pleased that we had attempted greater whiteness.  Hopefully our delay didn't darken their day! 

In conclusion, I share the following shots.

                 Snowy white Silver Throne in back of Moose's Tooth with the Ruth Icefall to the right

                                                                     Summit

The things I see......

One of the people I follow on Instagram is a bicyclist. The photography he posts is of what he sees when riding. He often rides on Vermont country roads which provide him with beautiful camera shots.  Folks posting on Instagram tend to use catchy names, rather than their own.  I'm not quite sure why, but it does make identifying people on Instagram interesting.  Once discovered, the names chosen seem totally "them".  The cyclist I follow posts under the name, thingsagsees.  It's the perfect name for him and one that I hope he won't mind my borrowing for this particular post.

Passing through Buffalo, NY, these road signs caught my eye.  No, HC.....now what could that mean, no handicapped children, no homeless citizens or as Bucky surmised, no hair conditioners.  I gave him a questioning look upon hearing this.  Had he subconsciously put into words his opinion of my hair's condition after several nights of RV sleeping?  It was only a few minutes later that we passed a sign stating that HM was not allowed.  No heavy metals or more likely no hazardous materials, or could it just possibly be no head massages to complement no hair conditioner?  And why would no HC and no HM both be needed?  It remains a mystery of the road.  One of the few, "I wonder moments" that wasn't answered by Google.

This pink building lept from a block of plainly painted older establishments on the outskirts of Buffalo.  What's your guess?  Defunk nightclub, with upstairs rooms for rent?  Antiques and collectibles?  The golden goddesses, standing watch on the roof, could imply former Greek restaurant.  One of many roadside mysteries.

Churches appear in every town.  Some are majestic with steeples scraping the sky, crafted of stone and adorned with magnificent stained glass windows.  Others are more humble.  I liked those I saw outside the prairie towns of Calgary and Edmonton. They seemed honest and unassuming in their plainness.

This church......now seems more like a schoolhouse.  After several looks, what I first thought was a steeple, is probably a bell tower.  No cross is obvious.

This private sanctuary was in the dooryard of a large farm quite removed from any town.  I loved how it personalized this farm family's lifestyle and commitment to their faith.

Seeing this church with Spanish like stucco and coloring was a surprise on the prairie.  The wooden tower behind had me baffled, but mimicked in my mind an old oil derrick.  Oil is very important in this part of Canada.

I loved how this last minute shot had the building slipping behind an approaching hill with the roof top crosses standing strong.

By far, my favorite section of the Alaska Highway is the final 300 plus miles between Whitehorse in the Yukon and the first town reached when entering Alaska,Tok.  No matter what the weather, the scenery astounds.  On a cloudy day the snow covered, ragged mountain peaks weave in and out of the clouds appearing to have no apex.  Countering this beauty is ongoing road construction, creating dust so thick that it's difficult to see oncoming traffic.  Like passing from heaven into hell.

and out of the dust appeared two male runners with their Tshirts over their mouths, followed by a support vehicle.  I felt badly for them knowing they were just at the start of 30 plus miles of suffocating dust.

Everything being transported by road into Alaska must at some point travel this route.  For that reason there is no telling what will be seen.

We followed three Canadian tanks being hauled into the US.  If only Google could unlock this mystery! Pipes of all diameter and length moved along with us.

I could crowd the remainder of this post with shots of magnificent scenery, but I'll let you dig into this blog's archive for these. However, despite having seen these mountains many times before, their beauty remains a temptress luring my lively shutter finger.  I conclude with some random sights that stood out for me.

There certainly will be more of the "things I see" as our time in Alaska continues.

Colors

I seldom travel without my camera on my lap.  I have yet to master smart phone photography, although I'm sure it's the quickest way to put out a post of this type, with no internet needed.  Maybe someday soon, I'll be able to type fast enough to do this by phone.  I'm sure Bucky wonders, at times, why I pick up my camera.  What am I seeing of interest that he doesn't?  No, it's not a moose sneaking from the trees or a deer on the fence line, his eyes are quick to pick these images out, but instead, I see a myriad of objects and scenery that excites me, while passing by all too quickly.  I'm particularly attracted to old structures, signs and oddities of all types. Although Bucky is quick to stop for a wildlife shot and occasionally for an amazing panorama, he'd be hitting the brakes constantly for the clicks of my camera.  He is, however, very considerate when he sees me lift my camera to shoot through the driver's side window, pulling his head and chest back, providing me with the best shot available while continuing to drive in a most awkward way.  As our windshield becomes splattered with bugs, finding clean glass is impossible.  Shooting through my passenger window involves framing my shot between our large RV side mirror and the antennae.  I present you with this information, not to make excuses for these somewhat blurry photos, but hoping instead that you will enjoy the colors as I saw them.  The varied shades of grey in the clouds, blue sky meeting the yellow canola fields, green hay mixing with yellow, resulting in pea green, the cool blue water and brown marsh grass, all captured from a road of black asphalt.   

I have no idea what this blue flower is, but it was magnificent beside the yellow canola.

This old barn sat at the very back of the field, dwarfed by the size of the field.

As this small yellow car traveled through the field, it looked like an escaped canola blossom.

I'm a sucker for trains and think the blur, a result of both of us moving, made for an interesting shot.