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British Mensa Travel Special Interest Group |
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Alaskan
adventure by Anne Dearle The twenty-five hour journey to Alaska ended in Anchorage just before midnight and the sun was shining brightly, in fact the whole journey had been done in the daylight. We were not to see darkness again for two weeks! Anchorage is a city full of new buildings as most of the old ones fell down in 1964 when the whole area suffered a massive earthquake registering point nine on the Richter Scale. Actually the oldest building, once a private house but now a museum, only dates from 1915, and stands on the corner of 3rd Avenue and L Street. This rather curious address reflects the somewhat unimaginative street naming in the city. All the east/west streets are numbered avenues, and the north/south ones are lettered streets beginning with A Street and going up to L Street. It might seem strange but it makes it very easy to find your way round. We had a day to recover from our long journey and to explore the city and then we were off on our travels again. We caught a very early train down to the seaport of Seward, travelling through forests of stunted spruce trees trying valiantly to survive in the permafrost, and along narrow mountainside ledges suspended over deep river gorges. We saw a moose running across a bit of open ground followed by her gangling calf, we saw eagles hovering above the trees and swooping on their prey, and we saw snowy white dall sheep balanced on the hillside where it seemed impossible for any animal to find a foothold. At Seward we boarded a catamaran which took us out into the Kenai Fjords for an exciting wildlife adventure. Our cruise took us right out to the Aialik Glacier, a sheer, blue ice cliff that crackled and spat at us as it dropped tons of frozen debris into the sea. On route we saw lazy sea otters lying back in the water as they watched us sail by; we saw seals basking in the sunshine, and enormous sealions draped on rocks, so well camouflaged that they merged into the background. There were humpback whales sending up spume to warn us of their approach, then rising into view before diving again with a swish of the tail; and a pair of Orca (killer) whales that swam past with amazing speed showing only their sinister triangular fins. The bird
life was prolific with countless bald eagles perching on rocky pinnacles
and hovering above searching for prey. There were numerous cormorants
and kittiwakes flying around us, and, lined up on a ledge of a cliff,
like sentries on parade, were rows of common murre, which are the Northern
Hemisphere's version of the penguin. My favourites were the puffins that
overtook our boat as they flew like little bullets shooting past us, or
clung tenaciously to the sheer rock faces where they made their homes. There was another early start the next morning, this time to board an old school-bus with a very chirpy, chubby lady driving it. She began by giving us our instructions, firstly what to do in the event of an emergency, and secondly what to do if we met a bear. "Don't run", she said optimistically, "Make yourself as big as possible and wave your arms about, then call out `Hello bear' so that it knows you are friendly". Personally I think I would rather chance it and run! However she went on to explain that any bear could easily outrun a human, so I just prayed that we would not come face to face with one. We spent the whole day in the Denali National Park searching for bears, but as the day got rather warm they stayed among the undergrowth for shade and we only saw one. We saw it for quite a long time but very much in the distance. However, there was some consolation as we saw many caribou, more eagles, and several ptarmigan. We also enjoyed the thrill of a drive round hairpin bends along narrow hillside ledges, and had a wonderful view of the great Mount McKinley. This is the highest mountain on the American continent and is permanently covered in snow so that it looks like a giant iced cake. It is often shrouded in mist so we were lucky to see it so clearly. We were provided with a picnic, which included reindeer sausage. I tasted it cautiously and found it to be similar to salami. As I do not like salami I did not like reindeer sausage either, so I carefully hid mine at the bottom of my picnic box and disposed of it in the nearest trash-can when the opportunity arose. We arrived back at the hotel in time to collect our luggage and make our way to the station to catch the train on to Fairbanks where we were to spend the night. This was our most northerly point on the tour and, surprisingly it was one of the warmest. Another early morning start saw us on our way, by road, to Dawson City in the Yukon. Our bus driver, who was something of a wit, pointed out that it was July 4th and therefore American Independence Day. "A very good day to be leaving the country", he said. However, we still had a long way to go to get to the border. We stopped for lunch at a place called Tok Junction. This was a small settlement situated at a T junction, where the Alaska Highway meets the Top-of the-World Highway. It got its name, so we were told, because sometimes in winter the road was impassable and travellers used to enquire "Is the T OK?" As we neared Tok we became increasingly aware of a developing haze which our driver told us was smoke as there must be a forest fire in the area. He said that forest fires are generally allowed to burn themselves out as they help to clear undergrowth, enabling new plants to develop. He also added that after a fire a good crop of mushrooms usually appeared, and hinted that, as local pickers could make a good income out of this very expensive type of fungus, some fires were thought to have been started deliberately. After lunch we turned off the Alaska Highway onto the Top-of the-World Highway, a very picturesque road leading, cross country, to the border. The smoke got steadily thicker and by the time we reached Chicken, Alaska, it was very pungent. We stopped at Chicken (population 17), which was an experience not to be missed. I made a beeline for a wooden building labelled `Ladies'. The term `building' is used loosely as it was really a sort of cupboard balanced on a slab of concrete, and looking as if it might dislodge itself at any minute. I was rather anxious about the tilt and even more concerned by the fact that the door appeared to be hanging off. I was completely put off when I opened this door to find that there was a double loo inside. There were two lavatory seats side by side with nothing between them so that two ladies could have sat cosily having a chat whilst relieving themselves. Not for me! I decided I could wait a little longer. There was a row of wooden shacks housing various shops, the first in line being a gift shop run by a plump and motherly lady who sported a short, but very luxurient black beard. She tried desperately to interest us all in a variety of slightly doubtful souvenirs, including keyrings and bookmarks that proclaimed "I got laid in Chicken", and something that I thought was a book of matches with the picture of a chicken on the front, only it turned out to be a packet of condoms. The next shack was a bar, and taking a peep inside I was surprised to see the same bearded lady serving a man with a beer, lo and behold she popped up later in the cafe at the end of the row, and I then realised that the whole row was really only one long shack partitioned off. The cafe was able to produce a very good ice cream, and there was just time to eat it before continuing our journey. The road became narrower as it wound its way round hairpin bends, climbing ever higher into the mountain pass. Unfortunately the smoke got thicker as we progressed so we were unable to see what the driver assured us were the spectacular views below us. Eventually we reached a rather smart wooden chalet with the Stars & Stripes fluttering above it, and saw an official standing on the step. He cast a cursory glance at our bus and waved us through, thus we left the United States. We crossed a couple of yards of nomans-land and pulled up at a porta-cabin flying the Canadian flag. A lady customs official came out and greeted us warmly as she collected all our passports. When we got them back we found she had stamped them all with a picture of a prospector panning for gold. So we came to the Yukon. As our bus drove on to a ferry that was to carry us across the fast moving Yukon River, we saw Dawson City emerging out of the smoke on the opposite bank. As I stepped down from the bus I had the feeling that a camera would suddenly appear and I would find myself in the middle of a Western movie. All the buildings in the city were made of wood, the pavements were wooden duckboards and the roads were dirt tracks. It was wonderful. We had two days in Dawson City during which time we visited Bonanza Creek, where gold was first found, and saw the mines; we saw the homes of Robert Service, Jack London and Pierre Berton, (Dawson seems to have been a very literary place); and attended a Music Hall at the Palace Grand Theatre. Whilst we were in the theatre the local fire brigade sat patiently outside, because we were in a wooden building and the fire was creeping ever closer to the town. Apparently there was a fear that the wind would change and bring the fire right into Dawson but, in the event, we had a good dampening shower of rain and the wind stayed blowing away from us. Nevertheless, as we drove away from the city, on our way to Whitehorse, we saw helicopters with enormous water bags slung beneath them, water bombing the fire. Our driver had bad news for us that morning - he had heard that the fire had reached Chicken, Alaska, and the village had been evacuated. We all said a silent prayer for the inhabitants of Chicken and hoped that they all escaped unharmed. We travelled the Klondyke Highway down to Whitehorse, the capital of the Yukon. It was not a very interesting place and was a bit of an anti-climax after the excitement of Dawson City. It had the advantage of being relatively smoke-free, although we heard that fires had broken out in the forests around there too. We only had one night in Whitehorse and then we were on our way once more. This time to Fraser where we were to board a train to Skagway, so would be crossing back into Alaska. The narrow gauge raitway from Fraser to Skagway, the `White Pass & Yukon Route', is one of the great scenic railways of the world. Built to carry the gold prospectors up into the Yukon it was completed in 1898, and was a miracle of engineering. We were actually doing it in reverse as the prospectors were making their way up from Skagway, where they would have disembarked from ships to continue their journey by land up to Bennett Lake where they would have built their own small boats to take them across the lake and on up the Klondyke River into the Yukon River to the gold fields at Dawson City. We began by going through the White Pass at an elevation of 2,865 feet from which we descended to sea level via a series of loops, tunnels and bridges, passing waterfalls and canyons as we made our way along narrow ledges that seemed to swing out into space as they rounded jagged rocky outcrops, as we followed the famous Chilkoot Trail into Skagway. Somewhere along the way we crossed the border but there was no sign of it and having boarded the train in Canada we got out in the USA at the end of the line. We had time for lunch and a look around Skagway before making our way to the airport. This turned out to be a small shop in Main Street, where we had the embarrassment of being weighed. The scales were at the end of a counter and we each had to step on and call out our weight to a girl who was sitting at the other end of the counter. We were then transported by minibus to the airfield where we found four very small planes waiting to fly us to Juneau. Our party travelled in three of the planes and the fourth took our luggage. It was a very exciting flight. We flew out over the bay and had a good view of the enormous cruise ships that sail around the Alaskan coast, and then we were up over the mountains, peering down at their snowy peaks. Just over half an-hour later we flew over the great Mendenhall Glacier and down into Juneau. Juneau is the capital city of the State of Alaska, and in area it is one of the biggest capitals in America although in terms of population it is one of the smallest. Although it is the State Capital it is not approachable by road and the only way in is by sea or by air. It is situated on the `pan handle' which is the narrow coastal strip to the south of the state. Like Skagway the waterfront was dominated by the huge cruise ships that call in at all the ports in Alaska, and consequently it was a very busy, bustling city. We enjoyed two days exploring Juneau. We had a conducted tour of the Capitol Building which, unlike most such buildings did not have a gold dome. This is because before Alaska became a state it was a territory, and as such had an administrative headquarters, which later became the Capitol Building. We also visited the old Russian Church, an interesting reminder that Alaska once belonged to Russia. We also had a chance to catch up on some shopping at a wonderful selection of Inuit, American Indian and Russian shops. Then it was
time to move on again. We flew out of Juneau in an Alaskan Airlines jet
to Ketchikan where we transferred to a seaplane, which appeared to be
very old and looked as if it was held together with sticky-tape and paper
clips. It was also very noisy and we all wore head phones for the entire
journey. This took us over the mountains to Prince Rupert in British Columbia.
We made a wonderfully smooth landing on the water and coasted into the
little harbour. This was a truly amazing journey. We were again travelling along narrow ledges, looking down on to rushing torrents of water below us. We were out of the permafrost by this time and we went through lush green forests and through craggy mountain passes. At one stage we entered a tunnel, leaving a great, dense forest behind us, to emerge at the other end in desert. It was like the Grand Canyon with great sandy cliffs and a barren valley stretching far into the distance. Not a tree in sight and no greenery at all. We descended into the valley and made our way, via Whistler, famous for winter sports and looking like a Swiss resort, and on to Vancouver. There were three wonderful days in the lovely city of Vancouver, and then we transferred by road, back into the United States to begin our journey home from Seattle. After a brief stop in Chicago we were on our way across the Atlantic and en route for Heathrow. First published in VISA issue 35 (winter 1999) |