A Donk, Icy Strait, Rustic Rooms and a Burger Bargain

Getting to Glacier Bay National Park

With my goal of visiting every National Park, the logistics of getting there at times can be challenging and expensive.  Glacier Bay roads are definitely not on a road map grid of either the USA or Canada.  It is part of a huge corridor of wilderness that is the largest contiguous roadless area left on earth which includes Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve and Wrangle-St. Elias in Alaska and Kulane in British Columbia. It is access able only air or sea.The park itself has only 9 miles of paved road leading from Gustavus airport to Glacier Bay Lodge ( air being one access point to Glacier Bay NP. ) The other access is via private boat or ferry.  Since Glacier Bay is served intermittently  by the Alaska Maritime Highway Ferry system, you technically could bring your car or RV there but there is no place to drive to other than to the Lodge with very limited parking and locally in Gustavus. The 30 site campground at Glacier  is quite primitive with pit toilets and food caches and blessedly NO  RV camping facilities to accommodate noisy generators, polluting motors, electrical needs,  and waste dumping.

 Of course the first challenging part was driving the 125 miles from Soldotna AK to Anchorage through road construction, many delays, and then negotiating the massive mess of full parking lots (because of construction, now at 50% capacity in the high tourist season!) at Ted Stevens International Airport, in the rain. I am not one to have to have to find the  closest parking spot to my destination,  but I really did not relish walking a considerable distance lugging my suitcase.  I drove around all the aisles for A through O in long term parking and several beyond that with no signage to the second from last aisle before I found an empty spot…which was only open because I had to squeeze Lady Spitfire  between a wide bodied muddy high-rise pick-up and a rather old rusty and dented Suburban parked right on the line. I managed to squeeze out of my car and offered a prayer to the patron saint of automobiles, St. Frances of Rome, to protect my cherished jeep from any harm that might be inflicted upon it by the rather careless parker or the dude with the donk.   That was all good training for dealing with the rain and with the flight delays out of Anchorage and then out of Juneau. No need to elaborate here on the delays as I assume all readers have had the experience of and the challenges and tedium that plane delays present.

Since I cannot literally spread my wings and fly nor do I think my swim from Alcatraz Island to Marina Green in SF years back would have been adequate validation of my ability to swim the Icy Strait to Glacier Bay, I opted to fly into Gustavus from Juneau, a very short hop of 41 mile in 36 minutes. It would seem unremarkable except Alaska Airlines flies a 737-700 jet into this postage stamp airport with one runway. The flight reminded me of going up the St. Louis Arch with its steep arc up and then right back down. I am not sure I have been on a flight before where the pilot did a sharp U-turn in the runway and taxied right over to the terminal.

We were met by a National Park Ranger in Gustavus. In pre-trip reading about Gustavus, it entices would be visitors with “you will see that we are surrounded with breathtaking mountains, pristine inland waters, glorious sandy beaches…and wild strawberry fields”. This might be true if one arrives in this temperate rain forest area on a sunny day but not so glorious when arriving surrounded by massive cloud banks in all directions, fog and a spattering of rain. Gustavus, home to 655 residents, did not appear to me to be a thriving community even with its claim to fame of being the “Gateway to Glacier Bay Park.” I would imagine most touristy types (like myself) merely pass on through on the park shuttle bus which was the best photo op of the day.

After an extend wait for our checked luggage, we rattled along the entire Gustavus road system (9 miles total of paved road) to to Bartlett Cove (where Glacier Bay Lodge is located) in a well used and rather sketchy looking bus. I must say this is the perfect vehicle for this setting … no need for glitzy mini-vans in my minds eye. Of course upon our arrival the heavier rains set in and by the time I got my room key amongst the last of the 15+ couples and families who flew in on the same plane, my poor forlorn suitcase was sitting out there getting a nice cold shower waiting to be claimed.

What an absolute delight to be staying in a lodge that fits beautifully into the landscape and to be ensconced in a room that befits this rain forest and is tucked into the hillside and forest surrounded by aging sitka  spruce, fiddle ferns, cow parsnip, beach strawberry….. How grateful I was that I booked “a room with a view” (i.e premium room)  fronting the picturesque Bartlett Cove. The only downside is the number of stairs, ramps, and walkways to get UP to the Lodge…though it makes for a nice body-weight workout. My room itself was a basic aging national park room and not even trying to be an imposter 4 star hotel. I would not even want that in a wilderness setting. The rooms are rustic but clean and comfortable .  Perfect! Nor are there amenities such as the mini fridge, microwave,  and TV  in the room (or lobby). Great! But I must admit I was quite relived to see one of those typical hotel coffee pots as I certainly did not have a keen yearning to get a morning stair stepper workout up to the Lodge  to buy expensive coffee.

As anticipated, like most National Parks, there is no cell service and limited wi-fi…what a blessing … but the withdrawal can be challenging!  There was wi-fi in the main lodge and lobby area so the “living room” was packed with internet surfers and anyone, myself included , hoping to connect with the family left behind as I waited for a table. I vowed not to read any news during the stay. The upside of no room wi-fi is it can it definitely promote more social interaction (for me it did quite a lot) as well as interaction with the environment.  The down side being a vey crowded lobby at times with most individuals fixated on their screens. 

Once my room was “organized”  I headed up to get dinner as it now was 7:30. Seems like all the patrons had a jump on me so the wait would be about an hour. Given that one is a captive in this  wilderness and not being a hunter and gatherer myself, I got on the waiting list and searched out the offerings in the gift and sundries shop off the lobby. Unlike some parks that provided a much larger variety of options, I decided that what appeared to be day old sandwiches, caramel cookies, a variety of energy drinks, and an good assortment of single serving bags of junk food and candy was not on my preferred menu. So I waited.

The menu at the restaurant was varied and I already knew that what I would anticipate as a reasonable price in the “lower 48” would be at least 30-40 % higher in Alaska, and of course jacked up again given the short season during which to turn a profit.   My $19.00 hamburger however was quite good and I figured quite  a bargain given our remote location… I kept reminding myself that everything has to come in by ship or air. Quite sated and delighted  with everything , it was time to turn in as I needed to report at the dock at 6:50 for the glacier cruise scheduled for tomorrow.  I wound down my day, sitting on the bed and looking out the window and watching the boats in the harbor.  

Woody Hobgoblins and Mossy Carpets

The next day’s dawn was a miniscule brighter than the previous days and the forecast was for cloud cover but NOT rain.  Without a car (thank goodness), I wanted to stay “local’ or hire a taxi. I was eager for a walk-about day after two days of extended time on the derriere. After I downed the not so sumptuous standard hotel breakfast bar food, I decided to  walk over to Near Island (which actually wasn’t that far) and hike both the North End and the South End Trails. 

As I peered at the bridge to Near Island upon approaching Kodiak via ferry, I found it a we bit imposing (given the size and remoteness of this island), spanning the entrance to St. Paul Harbor in Chenega Bay and the city of Kodiak . The Fred Zharoff Bridge arched from the mainland, just across the channel from downtown Kodiak to Near Island. I began to create in my mind a small area developed with shops, restaurants, parks and the two lauded hiking trails that I had read about when planning this trip. I had seen a blip about Near Island Coffee on restaurantguru.com : “a cozy coffee and tea shop located there…is well known for its great service and friendly staff that is always ready to help you. ” The Kodiak Fisheries Research Center and Laboratory with a 3500 gallon Aquarium and Touch Tank is located there as well. Beginning the journey I was able to appreciated the vantage point of downtown Kodiak from mid-bridge.

Was I ever in a lala land… there was no thriving touristy retail center. Near Island was primarily commercial-industrial area with fishing trawlers and other boat moorings and a sea plane base.   Near Island Coffee was basically a drive up kiosk. Now, I really am the outdoors type and not all that touristy, so I even surprised myself with my expectations. Since I was primarily there for the hiking though, the North End Trail head presented right at the  bridge egress. 

It felt at times as if I was being transported into a world of super-sized hobgoblins. Sitka spruce trees shaded most of this trail and they have done a stellar job of mossing up. I have dubbed it the  Hall of Mosses. A variety of greens that dominates the scenery of this temperate rainforest thrills the eye. I found it enchanting and primeval with the array of mosses (the word that comes to mind is lush) and lichens under the canopy of these old-growth trees.  

 The trail is mostly well marked but since I have always been directionally challenged, there were a couple of points where I found  myself walking in circles…  lost in gnome land .. but not really very lost. Additionally, I enjoyed the excellent views from an observation deck, a couple small beaches to visit,  and the fine views of  Kodiak and Chineak Bay . 

The South End Trail was yonder down the road towards Trident Basin Seaplane Base. I had trekked the road to the Kodiak Fisheries Research Center and Laboratory and came upon a trail sign indicating an intermediate trail connecting to the Rotary Gazebo and the South End Trail. Given my concept of “gazebo,” I couldn’t quite envision one in a forest draped with moss and lichen. But alas, a clearing and what I would call a picnic shelter turned out to be the Rotary Gazebo and Park. ’Twas a convenient spot for lunch!

This trail was a bit rougher, squishier, with roots popping up in hopes of tripping up this unsuspecting hiker. It was slow going but probably less than a mile and I came upon the gravel road and what might have been the beginning or end of the South End Trail.

I gambled that this was my destination trail and proceed to hike up what I later heard was the Harbor View Trail which connects to South End Trail…literally at the south tip of this island. The rocky terrain I was trekking followed a chain link fence, clearly erected to prevent any foolish hikers from loping on down to the gravel excavation site. Believe it or not, given some of my previous endeavors, I was not tempted. I was setting my eyes upon some lovely and not so lovely sights: the gravel excavations, the breakwater to Kodiak Harbor and St. Herman Harbor (aka Dog Bay on Dog Salmon Bay Road) where the biggest commercial fishing vessels tie up; the Stellar Sea Lions, who are purported to be hanging out near the breakwater in absentia; City Dock Two on the mainland where the MS Roald Amundsen Cruise Ship was docked; and hundreds of additional moorings for commercial fishing boats. Trivia: Kodiak is the third largest commercial fishing port in the United States.

The  coastal trail soon entered coastal rain forest of sitka spruce at times but it wasn’t quite as thrilling as  the lush enchanted forest of North End Trail. The path  mostly hugged the coast and though  semi-improved, it was replete with the mud, rocks and roots that like to challenge a hikers forward momentum. Thank goodness for a few short  boardwalks at some of the muddiest locations. At the southernmost termination I opted to enjoy the marvelous  views of Chiniak Bay, perching on the edge of one of the  wooden benches  which still retained the leavings of yesterdays rains.

I plodded back via the gravel road to the much anticipated reward for a day well spent: a venti non-fat latte from the oh so famous Near Island Coffee Kiosk. I perched again on a wet park bench waiting for the caffeine to kick in to power my legs back across the bridge to my Kodiak abode. Having clocked about six miles of hiking, my legs were spent, even though my money was not. I again opted to not trudge down the hill and ate remnants of my lunch, and the fruit and baby carrots I had in the room. Not totally yummy but it was food and I saved myself the climb back up the very steep drive to the Compass Suites.

Being eternally hopeful ( or should I say hope springs eternal) for a turn in the weather, my hopes were yet again dashed as I peered out the doors to the balcony and it was even grayer and large drops of rain were falling with a relentless force. Since the plan was to stay local and explore the city of Kodiak, I was definitely not in a frenzy to get out there and explore every nook and cranny of this very Alaskan berg. I did venture on out about 9:00 am, encased in a bright pink rain jacket much too large now for my shrinking frame, green rain pants, my trail shoes,  but sans umbrella. My mindset was to trot merrily in the rain  around town, perhaps have a nice lunch, and do a bit of shopping. By the time I negotiated the short distance down the street to the town center, I did not much feel like prancing in the rain but trudged around the area in hopes of feeling inspired by a shop, church, museum, or just about anything to distract me from the rain that was now seeping in through a slit in my rain jacket. I found the town to be quite utilitarian and bordering on a classic strip mall with a large carpark to support it.

But being bull headed and determine to experience this town, I went to visit the Kodiak National Wildlife Refuge Center. CLOSED! A stop in at the visitors center didn’t yield a whole lot of new information or ideas. So  I wandered though the port and industrial dock area and then headed further down the street to visit the Holy Assumption of the Virgin Mary Russian Orthodox Church and Saint Herman Theological Seminary. I was quite satisfied to view the exterior and opted out of taking my rain soaked dripping self inside. Same rationale was used regarding visiting the Alutiiq Museum and Kodiak History Museum. I love reading history, love historical novels, but have never been a big fan of visiting museums, especially in wet gear. 

I slogged back to the town center for the anticipated shopping for souvenirs — though why would I even want a souvenir as a hallmark of this trip. Much to my relief the two stores that might even have something memorable to purchase were closed so that solved that dilemma. No browsing, no money spent. As it was a bit early for lunch I opted to return to the hotel, dry out, pack up and then decide what to do with the 2.5 hours before I got the shuttle to the airport.

This is not a touristy town center and I wonder if the patrons off the cruise ships that dock here are as surprised as I have been by the blandness of this town. It just did not feel like there was any hum or buzz to it. Now,  I am sure that my perspective is definitely tinged by my age, my style of eating, being a non-drinker, definitely preferring outdoors adventures, and of course the overlay of inclement weather. Since this was not a day for sitting out with a coffee,  reading and people watching until it was time to go to the airport,  upon checking out by the appointed time, I enjoyed the lovely hotel lobby and caught up on a lot of reading.

Another shock was the air service by Alaska Air in-out of Kodiak, a town of approximately 6000. It has a huge runway and it flies a Boeing 737 in and out. The airport gate area definitely was not designed to hold the large number of passengers that the jet aircraft can hold. Packed into the waiting area like sardines,  I was not particularily appreciating the ripeness of some of the outdoors adventures or the high level of humidity in this enclosed area from the plethora of  wet outwear.  Since I had started in Homer I had to fly back there by the very circuitous route of a 1 hour flight  to Anchorage , a 3 hour layover and a 45 minute RAVN AK flight to Homer– a 5 hour journey to go what would have been 132 air mile across the Gulf of Alaska had I been able to fly direct. It was no surprise to deplane in the rain and then drive an hour and one half back to Soldotna in this same low pressure weather system that has locked in over the peninsula.

Was I disappointed . Yes and no! Since I was mostly confined to the road system and town, I did not see any kodiak bears but I had not expected to see any of Kodiak’s large population of bears. Other than that it was a great experience just going with the flow, dancing in the rain (well not quite dancing) and embracing whatever Mother Nature spewed forth. even if I have groused about it a bit!

Watery Highways, Absentee Wildlife, and Spare Cruising

I am not sure how Kodiak Island made it onto my bucket list of things to see in Alaska this summer . Since this will be my last summer living in Soldotna AK I wanted to maximize my experience . In researching it, it seemed like would be a good fit for my venturesome self. The Discover Kodiak Visitor Guide states 

“It is filled with giant bears, spouting whales, extraordinary birds, and brightly colored salmon jumping from the rivers. The lush green summer months earn Kodiak Island the nickname, “The Emerald Isle”. Prepare yourself to realize that a place this incredible actually exists.” 

Additionally I could use the Alaska Marine Highway to get there, giving me a mini-preview of what the voyage from Skagway AK to Bellingham Washington would be like this fall.  So I created a magical itinerary for my three full days of adventure, enjoying what I imagined would be a quaint town with coffee shops, stores and restaurants; a drive out to Fossil Beach for some beach combing and then on to Cape Chiniak to explore; a hike up Pillar Mountain; a visit to  White Sands Beach and Fort Abercrombie State Park and time permitting a hike there; and an exploration of  both the North End and the Sound Trails on  Near Island. I wondered if it was a bit ambitious but was anticipating this getaway with much eagerness. 

The part of the brochure that I totally ignored in my imaginings was:

“Part of the charm of Kodiak is the unpredictable weather. The weather allows Kodiak to bloom into “The Emerald Isle”. It allows all of the things you come to see – the bears, whales, puffin, and salmon to thrive here. Summers can be perfection, but they can also be rainy, windy, and foggy with a side of overcast. Don’t worry though, you are visiting one of the world’s most exotic islands and your memories will not be about the weather.”

Now I am wise enough to have packed good rain gear, extra hiking shoes, and clothing after last summers incessant rain for two months on the Kenai Peninsula. But I was quite disappointed and disgruntled that all Kodiak did serve up was rain, wind, and fog, mist, and overcast with a temperature range of 45-49 degrees. It definitely dampened my spirits and my body. Sadly , the weather became the overarching memory of this excursion.

The journey began with a 90 minute drive from Soldotna to Homer. The weather was favorable, a cerulean sky, and I marveled at the view of the mountain across the Cook Inlet, visible with an early morning glow.

I had decided to park at the Homer airport, as I was winging it back, and take a taxi to the Alaska Maritime Highway Ferry Terminal at the end of the Homer Spit. I was astonished at how this 2 mile stretch of road, Homer Spit Road, became a massive parking lot for hundreds of cars, all manner of recreational vehicles, boat trailers, with “parking lot campsites”, ” and a few seafood restaurants and souvenir shops squeezed in. But, it all went seamlessly and I boarded the Tustumena with much ado made by the massive flock of seagulls wafting about. The covered gangway to board the ship definitely spares passengers from the chance bombardment of either the gulls or their excrement.

The Alaska Marine Highway

Highway: Merriam-Webster defines highway as “a public way especially a main direct road.” It commonly used for one connecting major towns or cities. I typically envision an interstate, freeway, main artery etc. usually paved and maintained. The visit to Kodiak require that I expand my vision of what a highway is! I had opted to take the Alaska Marine Highway from Homer to Kodiak – a 126.1 mile 9.5 hour “cruise” on the Tustumena, churning through the Gulf of Alaska at 11.27 knots miles per hour… definitely not an expressway at sea. This being a working car ferry, it brought back fond memories of the car ferry and ride we took across the Staits of Mackinac from Mackinaw City to St. Ignace before the Mackinac bridge was built…a journey that was spare, quite windy but short.

Since ”cruise” means a journey over water in a vessel, that this was thought NOT luxurious and NOT for you if you want a deluxe experience with entertainment and casinos, buffets, and a pool. It might be describe as “spare” accommodations but perfectly adequate to get from port to port on a limited budget. Since much of Alaska is boggy and remote, there are no highways connecting vast areas, so it is a boon for those who can’t afford the luxury of bush planes or float planes to more distant remote areas. So I joined the hikers, backpackers, families and fisherman for the day. I actually enjoy this as much or more than the fancy-dancy cruises I have been on being a backpacker and camper at the core for many years.. The partly sunny skies of Homer very soon gave way to the cloudy and misty skies in the Gulf and a stiff wind, so my vision of sitting out on deck, enjoying the open water teaming with wildlife and the scenery – mostly an occasional craggy glacier carved islands – was quelled.

The upside was that there were many options on the interior of the Tustumena to settle down in and while away the hours. I opted for a booth as home base with room to spread out, store my suitcase under the table, be proximate to a bathroom and the Coke machine, the common microwave, and the ice machine available for all. The many people who can sleep anywhere and at anytime could be found asleep in the lounges, on couches and chairs, the floor, in the deck in sleeping bags etc, . There were even public showers available but definitely not on my dance card that day. A dining room offered 3 meals but I opted to only have dinner as I brought lunch and snacks fearing the prices of food would be astronomical. But the prices were reasonable and food in the dining room was acceptable, though not exactly gourmet.

Overall this is a good opportunity to “unplug” as no wi-fi and minimal cell service is available. So the 9 hours actually passed quite quickly with reading, snacking, playing games on my iPad, dining, and often cruising the outside deck buffeted by the wind hoping to spot the acclaimed proliferation of wildlife to be seen. Here is my list of sightings: 0

I found cruising into the Kodiak Harbor was probably the most picturesque part of the days journey, given the narrow channel and lush  greenery on numerous rocky islets alongside; the bridge to Near Island spanning the channel; the fishing boats, boat yards and marine gear and services for all the commercial fisherman, cargo ships, cruise ships and passenger vessels, and recreational boats. The highly touted plethora of bald eagles, sea otters, and Steller sea lions, which are frequent visitors to the harbor,  chose this point in time to not be part of the non-existent welcoming committee. The town itself is a compact area next to the harbor dockage, spread out for about 4-5  blocks, and I could see the Compass Suites Hotel, which I had booked, on the hillside. With no welcoming committee or anyone to get guidance from, no taxis in the area, and an unsuccessful quest for a map in the Ferry office ( no detailed map exist  so I assume it is a given that everyone has google maps on there cell phone and that a paper map is an anachronism). I decided to hoof it, dragging my suitcase the few blocks and was very grateful to arrive at the hotel around 9:00 PM, settle into a very pleasant  room overlooking the harbor.

Wrangell-St. Elias, a Loo with a View, and Onward to the Kenai Peninsula

IMG_6361Tuesday July 31, 2018

I had hoped to spend another night in the Wrangell-St. Elias  area, but I wasn’t about to spend a 2nd night overlooking the cable spools, cell tower and the yellow and brown port-o-let by my tent-site. Any other tent camping prospects were dismal due the contraindication because of bears in the area,, I broke camp with the intent of spending a half day in Wrangell St. Elias NP and then push the last 350 miles to Soldotna. It was a sunny clear morning and I headed out with great anticipation of another day of drop dead scenery and rugged glaciated land. The drive from Copper Center to Chitina – the gateway to the route to McCarthy/Kennicot was miles of feasting on the lofty summits, glacier sweeps, forests, lakes, and the braided Copper River east of the highway.

The town of Chitina is a classic AK town that has mostly gone bust with the closing of mines and demise of the railroads as the primary movers of freight. It is the gateway to Wrangell-St. Elias, marked by a very narrow rock cut entrance.

I anticipated another challenging 61 mile, minimally 2 hour upwards of 3 hour drive from Chitina to the Kenicott River just west of McCarthy Historic footbridge. I was not in the least disappointed. The area is so vast and with its remoteness, and there were very few other cars. So I merrily bumped along the gravel road, with my heart and soul singing. Numerous bridges cross the rivers and the old  Kuskulana River Railroad bridge build in 1910 is still is being traversed. 

With the road rapidly elevating, I was soon above the clouds, thus obscuring the meandering rivers in valley below but glimpses of the mountains looming above previewed the grandeur of these glaciated mountains.

The road abruptly ends at the Kennicot River –  icy cold silt laden water rushing powerfully off the fingers of the Kennicot and Root Glaciers. Before venturing across, we made our way towards the edge of the glacier with a brief stop at my #1 rated pit toilet on this trip. It was definitely a loo with a view.

The only public access to McCarthy was an open-grate footbridge which crossed the river to the old mining town of McCarthy. The campground I had briefly considered was definitely not conducive to tents or privacy. 

 I started to  meander over to McCarthy and though the grated bridge is quite safe, there was something unnerving about seeing the icy swirling water rushing below. Once my wobbly legs made it across the grating, Kili and Simba had their first ATV ride from a local worker who offered us a transport across a shallow tributary so we didn’t have to wade through the icy ankle deep water to get to McCarthy.

This was a quaint old mining town to explore, but knowing I still had many hours of driving left, I only stayed for an hour and then began the 61mile torturously slow, rocky, winding gravel road down back to Copper Falls.

The upside of the slow-mobile was better viewing of wildlife, the best of which was a bear running across the road  and further on down two moose grazing in an open meadow and adjacent slough.  The clouds had lifted so there we’re good views of the Copper River and its network of sandbars, islands and channels. 

My intent was to gas up in the town of Copper Center. For some irrational reason I expected this to be a cute quaint little town but was sorely disappointed in its offerings and was a tad nervous about fueling up at the rusted old gas pump.  I was in need of a restroom and asked the proprietor of this sparsely stocked store if there was one.  There was, but he very ungraciously gave me permission to use it.  Didn’t like the fact that so many visitors, upwards of 300 daily,  could be compromising his septic system and he would prefer if I used the port-a -john across the street. I opted for his restroom since I felt I was entitled to stress his septic system after filling up my gas tank for $45.00. Back on the road around 3:00 pm, 

I headed back through Glennallen and the straight out the Glenn Highway, Route #1, to Palmer. Once I hit Palmer, a sizable town, I felt I had left the remoteness and wilderness behind and was soon on a limited access highway to Anchorage. The scenery out of Anchorage  to the Kenai Peninsula continues to be stunning, but driving  along the Turnagain Arm of the Cook inlet and then on through Girdwood and Portage became tedious due to the high volume of traffic. It was still the height of the tourist and sport fishing season so traffic abounded. Before long, perhaps 2.5 hours, my little 650 square foot house with its Tyvek covering and my wonderful daughter were a welcome sight when arriving around 10:00 pm and having clocked 3370 miles of the most rugged and remote, yet exhilarating , driving I had ever done.