Road Warriors

Ahhhhh. I keep getting busy and forgetting to write! You have to remember, these posts were always 5-7 days behind real time. So we’ve been back in Colorado for a few days now. And working like dogs unpacking, cleaning the car and camper, trying to get the house back in order after being gone almost the whole summer.

I keep forgetting that I’m a ROAD WARRIOR until the bitter end! The WORST thing I could do at this point is drop the dang ball. I’m still putting up with crap from my brother about the last-ever Road Warrior series that he claims I never finished. He’s probably right, but don’t tell him I said that. I challenge anyone to prove it though, my website being so abysmally bad. It’s easy to find my banana bread recipe though, right Charlie??

OK, where were we…

August 27

Lolo National Forest just south of Kalispell at Norton Campground, all by ourselves! We had a fun breakfast using up all kinds of crazy. We waited for the sun to peak over the mountains to warm us up a bit before heading to the river to fish.

It was beautiful. The weather was lovely…

Actually, it got a bit too hot. I feel like Gollum after having been in the rainy cold for the past month. I was all bundled up and we were wearing our waders when we started. And within an hour I was sweating and considering stripping down to my bra. Who would ever even see? (I didn’t.)

We caught some very small rainbows early on and then not much else. It was a TREACHEROUS river to walk in. Dave has a bad knee and walking in the river is hard on it. I am 100% injury free and even my knees were sore from all the slippery side to side near falls.

There was a new nearby fire that helicopters were flying water to. But generally, it was a disappointing fishing day. Again!

We closed the day out with a drive up farther to check the river out. It looked really nice. We fished some more. We caught nothing.

Then we drove back toward town to get some internet to check emails. It was a luxuriously slow paced day.

I swore I could not eat another BITE of Italian sausage but that’s all that was left in the fridge, so I made Cabbage soup with, yes, Italian fricken sausage. I think it was good, but I’m just plain OVER IT. Frankly, it kind of grossed me out.

Had another nice fire, having ascertained that there were, in fact, no fire restrictions — which seems LUNATIC given the new fires in the area…

We had the campground to ourselves again, or so we thought. At 9:45, well past dark — and let me say HOW WEIRD IS THAT having just come from Alaska where it’s light until midnight — a dumb pick-up drove in and stayed. Oh well. They were pretty quiet and unobtrusive.

August 28

We packed up and headed out for the final push to Coalville — another 7 hour drive. Completely uneventful, which I appreciate as I write this at 10 pm from my bed in Colorado.

As we left Montana, I got a Reddit notification about Banff (Reddit is creepy like that, I don’t even use it and it nows I was in Banff…) showing snow where we had just camped. So, we missed a late summer snow storm by just a day. The pass roads were closed and it sounded like a big mess!

Remember: we needed to accelerate our drive back from Alaska so that we could get the camper suspension looked at, along with a handful of more minor things (Like the flippin’ REFRIGERATOR connection for those that have been following since the beginning.) Escapod doesn’t have a full workforce on Fridays and it’s Labor Day weekend so if we didn’t make it, we’d need to wait until Tuesday.

They wanted us to drop it the night before, but we preferred to sleep in the camper. And rather than camp in their lot and get labeled as WEIRDOS by the good people at Escapod, we opted to spend the night behind the gas station in Coalville that happens to also sport a convenient RV park. Who knew? Not us. We just stopped to get gas and said “why not stay here?”

So we did.

Remember my third or fourth post when I was crying about having to stay in a private campground in Canada that had other campers and *gasp* electric hook-ups?

Just look at me now!

Pretty soon I’ll be in a Minnie Winnie towing a Jeep!

Likely not.

Given that our fridge is empty, we unhitched and headed in to Park City, where it all began almost two months ago. Had a nice dinner and walked around a bit. Truly, I’m also over Park City, having spent way too much time there waiting for the camper this past year. But it’s a nice town. We tried to make it until dark so we could pretend we weren’t staying in a drive-thru RV park.

We made it.

And you’ve almost made it too! One more post to go!! Text me if I forget!

August 25

We took advantage of the showers at the RV park and watched church online before hitching up and heading out.

Today’s goal is Jasper and Banff.

I’ve been watching the news of Jasper ever since hearing about the devastating fire back in late July. Turns out the road opened to public just a couple days ago, so we are excited to be able to drive that route as originally planned.

We expected the drive to be kind of flat and boring, but it wasn’t. It was stunning.

I had been looking forward to the Jasper/Banff leg since first planning the trip. My family went to Banff many times and I have a lot of good memories. We never went as far as Jasper though. Dave and the kids and I did Banff in 2010 and it has even more good memories. I even looked up that Road Warrior series on our drive home and read some to Dave. Oh my gosh… so funny. I had SO MUCH MORE material back then! The posts are funnier and better, despite the fact I was 300% busier. I’m surprised anyone still talks to me…

Anyway, it was devastating to drive through Jasper after the fire. I don’t have any connection to the town (like I would if it had been Banff), but I can imagine how much harder it would be if you did. It’s crazy to see how the fire hit one building but spared the next. I would like to have seen what it was like (from afar). Not in a sick way, just because it must have been so powerful and scary. I think about those firefighters and the chaos and desperation. What a stressful and sad job that must be.

It was sobering. 

Eventually the burn gave way to green. The drive between Jasper and Banff is absolutely spectacular. We have been as farnorth as the Columbia Ice Fields and I remembered loving it, but MAN. I know I keep saying stuff like “MAJESTIC” but… just wow. 

We were DETERMINED to do a hike before hitting the campground that I had FRANTICALLY tried to make a reservation for on the drive during very sporadic internet. It was insanely and overly complex — like I was opening a line of credit instead of reserving a campsite. I did it because I was worried about trying to snag a site in Banff in August. My experience is that the place is a zoo. And it was…

I can’t quite articulate the experience of driving and driving and driving— for days on end — and not seeing many cars or people for the past couple weeks and then to go through Jasper, all burned out — a ghost town. And, like, NO ONE on the road (because it had just re-opened) and then suddenly coming around a bend to the ice fields and seeing HUNDREDS of cars and people. 

No bueno.

We are in RE-ENTRY mode.

Dave careened off the road at what looked like a trailhead. We knew nothing about it. Only that it had the fewest cars. We planned to walk for about 45 minutes, but it that is not how we do things.

When hiking, like driving, we tend to keep going. So we kept going to the top (after encountering a local couple who promised us that it was, hands down, the best overlook in all of Banff). It was 3 miles up with 2200 ft elevation gain. For these two sodden porkers it was a WORKOUT. But the view was, indeed, worth it.

Then back down and hustling to the campground so we could cook dinner, eat and go to bed.

That’s our life now: eat and sleep.

August 26

Our site at Two Jack campground (which SADLY I forgot to document) was annoying. We were almost sticking out on the road and so close to a huge puddle that I was almost splashed any time someone drove by. We didn’t linger at this sight any longer than we needed to, getting there late and leaving early.

We never unhitched the night before so we jut got up and left, driving into Banff for a hot Latte. It was only 9 am on a Monday but HOLY COW was the place a ZOO! Tour buses EVERYWHERE. Dave and I looked like something the cats dragged in (literally) while everyone out and about were all FANCY PANTS. It was disconcerting to say the least.

We stopped to get gas and I “timed things right” and went in to use the bathroom. I SHIT YOU NOT (sorry. Had to do it), the last station bathroom had a heated toilet seat and a bidet. 

And now I’m shopping for bidets on Amazon. 

Seriously. It was niiiiice. 

We stopped for lunch at some funky spot that Yelp rated 4.8. I have to say: we don’t agree, but it was a nice break to sit outside at a picnic table in the WARM sun (I have never been more pale in August…). 

Today the goal is Flathead Lake area. Dave’s parents had property on Finley Point on Flathead lake. It was amazing and hard to see it go. Finley Point has a road that goes around the perimeter, so the land was bisected twice, creating two lakeshore pieces and a large central piece where cherry trees were planted. Flathead lake cherries are famous delicious but also susceptible to freezing weather and hail. It’s mind boggling that they can survive here. It’s like a little micro climate, which still doesn’t make all that much sense to me because the lake completely freezes. Must be where the mountains are in relation to the lake? Anyone?

It was fun driving down memory lane…

Then on to Lolo National Forest and Rock Creek, which Dave had picked out in the rare time he spent in the passenger seat. He saw it on the map and it was right about where we were shooting for to put us in position for our final push to Coalville/Salt Lake City for the camper work.

Turns out the area is a MECCA for trout fishermen! Our hopes were HIGH!

We turned into Norton Campground and had the place to ourselves which was very nice. As usual, it wouldn’t have been nearly as nice if you had neighbors, based on the way the campground was laid out. 

Two more nights of camping, so we are in cooler clean-out mode. We had the old stand-by of Thai Green Curry with chicken and put a bunch of the veggies in it. We relaxed, checked out the river, made a fire and called it a night — being all nostalgic about the impending end to our adventure. It really has been fun.

August 23

We took a quick little hike around the lake where we were camped at, loaded up some firewood to take with us and hit the road. 

It was a long, boring drive day. On this leg we had to do some backtracking, having driven a few hours on this stretch on the way up. Dave even got bored enough to turn the wheel over to me. Remember Agreement #1? The one where we don’t speed so that we can get better gas mileage? That is flippin’ OUT THE WINDOW. We (and by “we” I mean “I”) don’t care anymore. To be clear, we aren’t speeding much over the limit. The limit is just high enough that we go from getting acceptable gas mileage (14-15 mpg) to unacceptable (under 13). 

Again, we no longer care — other than to watch it go down and comment on it every time we lose another tenth of a mile. WHATever.

When we calculated sort of where we would get to today (generally 500 miles or 7-8 hours of driving) we landed on Liard Hot Springs Campground. I know, I KNOW — who CARES! Hot springs are overrated!! But it was something to shoot for. Plus, a woman I met at the Chena Hot Springs told me that they had stayed at the Liard Hot Springs Campground and it was (WAY) better than Chena. Our bar has already fallen so low that we figured, “Why not?” And “How bad can it be?”

I was driving as we neared Liard Campground (we were also driving along the beautiful pale blue Liard River) when Dave said “Stop! Turn around!”. I kept driving. Because, I mean… really? But he really DID mean it. He saw what looked like a sweet spot to possibly disperse camp down by the river. So I pulled a U-ey and drove off the road to investigate. It was pretty nice, but we couldn’t get all the way to the river like he thought, so we would be exposed to anyone passing on the highway. Not usually a big deal, but we had no cell service, had no idea if we were on private land, or what the rules for dispersed camping were here.

So we continued a couple miles more to the back-up campground I had identified but it was closed with a gate across the road. Bummer. So we kept going to the hot springs campground. We pulled in behind a line of 5 campers ahead of us. Rangers in full mountie gear were standing behind an 8 foot tall electrified fence checking people in. To keep wildlife out? No idea. The place was CUCKOO! It was also full, obviously, and they were directing people to the overflow camping (a parking lot) across the street. We spun another U-ey and headed back to the dispersed site we had just rejected because we weren’t comfortable with it.

We set up, made a fire, made steaks and potatoes and enjoyed the solitude, laughing about how we started the trip with me researching how to disperse camp in Canada until my fingers bled. Never getting a clear answer and being too scared to take a chance. Now? After Alaska? No problem! There’s tire marks in the grass? That’s enough for us! Just a funny observation that we didn’t realize until we were sitting there eating.

We kept hearing a strange squawking from the trees and concluded it must be a crow, but as Dave started the dishes, the sound moved right behind me. I turned around and there was a HUGE owl in the branches above, checking us out. It was surreal. We just stood still and stared at each other. Eventually, it squawked one more time at us and noiselessly flew away. 

The only thing we were really worried about at this site was the campfire. We’ve been living in a rainforest for the past month and so had forgotten all about potential fire restrictions. A legitimate concern. So we finished cleaning up and put the fire out, brushed our toofers as we walked along the river…

And went to bed!

—– Later that night —–

Dave woke me up some time in the middle of the night. I had no idea what was going on but I was up and out of the camper in a matter of seconds — just like when he thought he heard a bear. (I didn’t know this about myself. But I like it! I’m a quick responder when asleep. Who knew?)

Happily, It wasn’t the police. And it wasn’t a bear.

It was the NORTHERN LIGHTS!! How exciting and amazing! I had hoped we might see them in Alaska, but the rain and clouds foiled any chances we had, so this was a cherry on the top surprise.

August 24

We packed up and hit the road for another long, boring drive day

The highlight was a stop in Jake’s Corner (a town) at the Cinnamon Roll place (can’t remember the name and my photo only shows ___Outfitters…. There were three semis parked on the highway because they didn’t really fit in the parking lot. We took that to mean that this place was legit. 

We also bought an egg salad sandwich for lunch and some salami. We like salami, even though we have read that it’s almost death itself.

I figure we’ve had a good life, so why not enjoy some salami.

Oh! And we also finally saw some Caribou. Cue the bad wildlife shot:

Our goal this day was Grande Prairie and Dave gave me the wheel again when he hit his “sleepy time.”

He gets real crabby doing the necessary route and camping research from the passenger seat, so he took back the wheel after waking up and promptly started ordering me around again. I was getting real crabby too, as options for camping the nearer we came to Grande Prairie were looking like slim to none — at least as far as ACCEPTABLE campgrounds. There was a KOA…. and we were actually thinking we might have to do that. 

Neither of us realized how big Grande Prairie was as far as urban sprawl — I think from as far away as Calgary. Doesn’t make for easy camping. It makes for URBAN camping.

So that’s what we did. We didn’t go to the KOA.

Hello Grande Prairie Rotary RV Park!

We found a spot, unhitched and left. Went looking for pizza and ended up at an Indian joint that was AH-mazing. 

We timed it such that we didn’t even have to hang out at the RV park. We got back after dinner and went to bed. 

August 21

It rained again last night. Ugh. So over it. I had to check between my toes this morning to make sure there weren’t any mushrooms growing there. 

Dave got up early so that he could make the drive back to Chena Hot Springs Resort. Not to take another soak, but to get his bathing suit that he left behind. Not sure how he could have done that, given that when I met him outside after showering, and he handed me a beer but didn’t seem to have anything with him, I asked him, “Where is your towel and suit?” And he said, “I put them in the car already.” He definitely put a bundle in the car, but it didn’t include his suit. So back he went to retrieve it.

I enjoyed the extra time laying in bed and reading. When he got back we quickly hitched up and hit the road.

TO THE NORTH POLE!

Yes! The time had come for me to deliver the letter from Hattie to Santa himself. The town is actually pretty cute. I think it would wear on me if I lived there, but — for instance— the lamp posts are all permanently decorated as candy canes. It’s very charming. 

That mission accomplished, we continued on to the river that a guy we met down in Ninilchik told us to hit for big grayling in Delta Junction. It required a small detour but we were very eager to catch some dang fish. The river was very large and very pretty. There was an older gentleman fishing the exact spot we were told to start at and we talked to him a bit. He shared that he had great success the day before but nothing doing today. 

Good grief AGNES! Can we not CATCH A BREAK?

Still, we were there, so we grabbed our rods. Just to say we did it. We didn’t put our waders on, so were limited in how far out we could cast. But I was honestly just so tired of casting to nothing. And I was getting a little pouty. So rather than be a baby, I went up to the car to relax and read. About 30 minutes later they started rising so Dave came up to put his waders on and promptly caught a couple. I wasn’t feeling very optimistic, but I put on my waders and went down there to join the FUN. Right then, Dave caught a really nice one that I was able to get a picture of — but we couldn’t get him to put his big sailboat fin up before wriggling free.

I caught a baby. And nothing else.I have mentioned this before, but I can’t tell you how frustrating it is for me to see other people catching fish (Dave and the older gentleman… one after the other) when I catch nothing. Now I really WAS feeling like a big baby.

And, after watching fish after fish jump out of the water for everything EXCEPT my (many different) flies, I packed it in and stomped back up to the car. Done. FINISHED with fishing. Arguing with myself about my attitude. 

Blah blah blah. 

I sulked for a few hours. I write this as my confession in the hopes that by revealing it to all I will magically change into a more likable person. (Let me know if it ever works.) 

We continued on toward Tok (the ugly little town you have to go through both coming and going to Alaska by road) where we filled up with gas and water before hitting the Taylor highway, which is a north route that will take us to the Top of the World highway before dropping back down to Whitehorse. We are hoping it isn’t too rugged, as we are very quickly losing that particular spirit of adventure…. And also hoping it doesn’t rain anymore because that will make the gravel road pretty bad, from what we have read.

We found a very nice little turnout on a small creek to camp for the night. I made BRILLIANT “deconstructed enchiladas.” (Can you tell that I am no longer sulking? I go from self-loathing to self agrandization in a matter of hours. Such are the delights of Jennie Menke…)

It was COLD – it got down to freezing overnight, and…

Do I even need to tell you what it did all night?

It rained. 

August 22

We did our usual coffee/cereal/pack-up-and-leave ritual and headed to the town of “Chicken” — a place VERY talked-up in The Milepost, as well as by a few people here and there that we talked to on our travels. From what we could tell, it was simply a little town with a lot of big Chicken sculptures. They had a gas station though, and we did need that, so we stopped and wandered around the little store/gift-shop and bought a pretty bad latte. But it was still a real latte, so I drank it and enjoyed it immensely. 

[Editor’s note: there was more to Chicken than the gas station and we were annoyed with ourselves for not at LEAST driving through it.]

I also bought my one and only souvenir of the trip.

Squatty Chicken. Now nicknamed “Naughty Squatty” — because she keeps turning away from me as we drive instead of paying attention to ME like I WANT her to… naughty squatty.

(The things I do to entertain myself…)

After Chicken, we started the Top of the World highway. It was FOGGY. And it was a HOLY MESS OF MUD. 

Dave promised it would “burn off.” Indeed, it started to, but it was STILL CLOUDY and I was MAD.

But, Dave said, “the clouds also make it EXTRA beautiful!”

I eventually came around. Dave was right.

He was right. He was right. He was right. (it’s our rule. you have to say it 3x)

We enjoyed every minute of it, once we got over the trauma of the oil-treated dirt road and the literal inch-thick coating on the car and camper. We have dealt with this concoction before and it is a nightmare to remove…

We crossed the border back into Yukon Canada — and along with that, a free ferry over the Mighty (very MUDDY) Yukon River…

…and eventually came off the road in Dawson City, the second largest city in Yukon. I expected at least that the roads would be paved. They were slippery buff-colored mud. The sidewalks were wood boardwalks.

We looked for restaurants that were open at noon and found exactly ONE. 

But what a restaurant it was! It might even be the best one we have had on the whole trip. Not even kidding. [Editor’s note: Editor does not agree.] Dave had pork and white beans and grilled baguette that were to DIE for. I had the “ploughman’s lunch” with sliced meat, pickled egg, olives, bread, mustard. It was so, so good. [Editor’s note: he REALLY does not agree with this assessment. Author must have been REALLY hungry.]

We walked around the town. It was very, very charming. I was DELIGHTED by some of the houses. Alaska needs to take a page out of their playbook.

I hear it is usually also very dusty, but not on the day we were there. We were happy in our rubber boots. In Alaska, we would have fit right in, except for the fact we were not wearing XTRATUF boots, but still. But here in Yukon? NO ONE was wearing boots, despite the fact that they SHOULD HAVE BEEN.

We stopped to read informative signs posted around town which were fascinating. These buildings sink because they are built on permafrost and then heated, melting the frost and sinking into the ground:

We found a manual car wash and hosed down the rig (while next to us a group of motorcyclists fresh off the Dalton Highway were hosing each other off. Literally0 and were on our (long) way to just south of Carmacks. 

We changed the whole “let’s take our time…” and “no long drive days…” to driving like bats out of hell because we want to get to Coalville, Utah by Thursday morning, ahead of Labor Day, to have a few things looked at on the camper, since we will be driving right past on our way back to Eagle. 

Did I already say this? I feel like I already said this. But I no longer remember, nor do I have the energy to read back to find it. I must press forward. And you must forgive me if I am repeating myself. 

The scenery continued to be majestic. Truly awe-inspiring. And Devine. We are without excuse [Romans 1:20-21]. It’s hard to disagree.

Our general goal was Carmacks. So we got through that town and found a small campground for the night. What does camping in a campground in Yukon mean? Free firewood! And good firewood. So we had a nice fire, made a dinner of… I can’t remember. And oddly we have no pictures. I know it was something because, also oddly, I do remember doing the dishes. [Editor’s note: Editor believes it was pasta. Author argues he has a 1 in 4 chance of guessing right because we’ve had it so much.]

Some other campers came by to check out the camper. Canadians, to a person, have been so very nice. I like Canada.

Well people, it’s time to start wrapping this journey up as we head toward home. We will be putting long drive days in with — *fingers crossed* — nothing too much to report. Of course if there is anything to report, I will definitely report in, but from here out, I’ll probably be combining days.

Thank you Mike for pointing out my FAUX PAS on the Tuff boots. They are, in fact, XTRATUF boots! Ahhhh the dangers of freewheeling without the benefit of internet to fact check. Just imagine how much other misinformation I’ve spread over this series…

Ah well. Too late!

August 19

We left the camper and drove upriver where we hoped Montana Creek might settle down a bit and become more fishable. We tried one spot and gave up, deciding to go back to the scene of the crime where we had been skunked a couple weeks earlier. It was still pretty wild, but we were able to fish. We saw some slow Chums near the end of the road but ultimately, we were skunked again. 

I could just feel it in the air from the moment we set out, so I will admit I didn’t have a lot of patience for the exercise. Still, I dutifully changed my rig many (MANY) times. Mostly to entertain myself since the fish weren’t doing that for me.

All I had on my mind was the Denali Brewery pizza in my near future, which I had very intentionally placed us near. I didn’t need to talk Dave into it — he just didn’t realize it wasn’t a happy accident.

It was quite nice so we were able to sit outside and enjoy the same pizzas we had ordered last time — this time with a cider instead of a beer. Everything was just as good as I remembered!

Then, we got in the car and headed to the Denali Highway where we were SURE to fool some grayling and end on a high note.

(Do you want a spoiler alert? Yes? No?)

(No.)

We drove about 30 miles in to the same creek (why mess with success?) but chose a MUCH nicer place to camp just beyond it. It was COLD!!

Dave went off to pick blueberries while I made dinner.

We weren’t super hungry so I made a single bowl of the Costco Pho (I recommend these quite a bit!) all doctored up with cucumbers, tomato, cilantro, diced salami, cabbage, chopped peanuts… amazing. I mean it was REALLY GOOD! And we ate it straight out of my little dutch oven so it stayed warm and we only had one pot to wash.

Yes, yes… I’m brilliant.

There are lots of hunters on this road and we were parked off on an ATV trail and were a bit surprised by a couple ATVs coming right past us long after we went to bed. Which is a bit disconcerting, but all in all it was one of our favorite spots to camp thus far.

August 20

The mountains got snow overnight. It was beautiful and peaceful. And MOFO COLD! Dave made us probably the last blueberry pancakes we will have on this trip as we waited for the sun to come over the mountains and warm us up. 

Putting on waders and fishing at near 32 degrees doesn’t sound great and, frankly, I doubt the fish would oblige us at that temp either.

Eventually we packed up and made our way to Seattle Creek TAKE TWO- *snap* ! 

It was a gorgeous day. The scenery was beautiful!!

And we didn’t see or catch a single fish.

CAN YOU FRICKEN BELIEVE IT??

The creek was up probably 12” since we fished it last. It’s a small creek but it was roaring. We walked a long, long way upstream and fished some absolutely PERFECT runs of water. All to no avail. 

Oh well. We concluded we were just very unlucky, timing wise, what with all the rain. Plus, it really was cold. My guess was that these guys are late risers. Like me.

We needed to get on the road anyway.

We packed up and headed back out to the Parks Highway and were stunned speechless to see Denali, in all its glory shining at us for much of the drive out. What a consolation prize!!

We drove up through Fairbanks and on to Chena Hot Springs road where we planned to camp. To be honest, there really isn’t all that much to see north of Denali. We’ve been almost all around Alaska now — on virtually every highway except for one small span down by Mantanuska Glacier — and I could tell someone with confidence “You can skip everything north of Denali”. At least as far as scenery goes. But it was kind of fun to complete the circuit.

We actually threw around the idea of driving north on the Dalton Highway to get to the Arctic Circle. Because, I mean, why not?

Hopefully you know by know that that is my and Dave’s fatal flaw. We tend to balance each other’s OTHER behavioral flaws pretty well. But as far as saying things like “We are so close to the arctic circle. We might as well go…”

Not so much. 

Thankfully, sanity won and Dave and I lost. The only thing that pulled us back from the brink and saved us from 240 miles of rutted gravel was cell service and the weather forecast: MORE RAIN. –And rain on the Dalton is like rain on Hardscrabble Road back in Eagle: death defying, not to mention, a REAL MESS to clean off. 

So we skipped it and headed up Chena Hot Springs Road to find a spot to camp. We landed at Rosehips campground and, once again had it all to ourselves with the exception of one other camper. It was a muddy, puddley mess but it would suffice.

We were really looking hard for a hike, as we are both feeling really gross and lazy and stiff. We talked to the campground host (a real character) who recommended a nice one up the road. We planned to do the hike and then continue driving to the end of the road and experience the hot springs and a SHOWER!

The only problem was, once we left the campground, we would lose cell service until we were at the hot springs. All day we had been nervously watching the scheduled salmon delivery in Eagle which was supposed to have showed up hours earlier — and still hadn’t. Our neighbors were poised to swoop in and unpack it into our freezer as soon it arrived. We decided we couldn’t risk doing the hike and being out of service for so long.

Also proving… we really ARE lazy, because honestly: what could we even have done about the stupid fish other than wring our hands and watch our phones?

Instead, we drove the 40 minutes to the hot springs slow and carefully, having been told by the host that FOUR MOOSE had been killed in the last week on that stretch. (We didn’t see one).

It was now 8:30 pm in Eagle. The tracking said, “your package is running late but will still be delivered today.”

Hard to believe. Especially since it is Eagle we are talking about. I’ve had plenty of times where packages have said that and then didn’t show up. We were just sick about the idea of our fish thawing out over the course of another night and full day but there was just nothing we could do. Our neighbors were going to bed anyway. We had to just let it go.

Heartbreaking.

We changed into our suits (locker rooms = gross) and met in the pool. Dave was already in there when I got out. I hung my towel up and hid my phone under it, when… *PING*

Ring doorbell alert!

UPS MAN WITH HEADLAMP ON! 9:15pm in Eagle! I quickly texted our AMAZING neighbors who rushed over and saved the day for us. 

It felt like a fairy tale happy ending. 

I just had to live through the hot springs first. 

I did.

We even ate at their restaurant. Dave ordered his usual “perfect Manhattan on the rocks” which has both sweet and dry vermouth. It came in a glass, room temperature with no ice. Dave reminded the waiter it was supposed to be on the rocks. He disappeared and came back with another glass and a single cube saying “I got you the fancy ice.” Dave can’t even describe the taste to me other than to say “it was just really strange. Not good.” My beer was delish.

Dave ordered the chowder, which was actually VERY good. And I had the seafood Pho. Despite just having just had it the night before. 

Which Pho was better?

The Costco pho was better. The restaurant’s wasn’t BAD, but it wasn’t great. And they used fake crab, which I usually actually like, but theirs was YUCK.

We drove very carefully back to camp and went to bed. It rained all night.

Rather than fishing and having to drive back up the road to get the camper, we opted to hook it up and bring it with us. We were mostly heading back to Kenai out of obligation to Loren (Colorado fishing friend/guide) who was SO EXCITED for us to catch… I’m not sure what. He didn’t seem to fully understand the words I spoke to him many times: “The silver salmon are not here yet.”

He was undeterred in his advice and enthusiasm for us to fish his carefully guarded map pins where he had had so much success in past years. The difference, of course, being he was here in SEPTEMBER and not during the Sockeye run when nothing is BITING. When all the normal fishing rules are out the window. 

But we love Loren, and despite all our fishless expeditions thus far, we still love to fish. And we wanted to experience wading the Kenai and Russian. So off we went to the fly shop in Cooper Landing to pick up the flies that Loren recommended. 

Fly shops are almost always great fun. In addition to an insanely cute and mopey mini dachshund named Little John, it had a great selection of gear. Interestingly, the fly shop guy was adamant that it was “too early” to be fishing beads for trout. Call us clueless about all this Alaskan fishing stuff, but… seriously? Did we hear that wrong? Literally every other person UNDER HEAVEN has said we could ONLY fish beads. But he was unmoved. “Too early.” 

Maybe that has been our problem? 

To be fair, he wasn’t all that encouraging on any front. Those trout are “just plain full.” In other words, they simply aren’t hungry. 

That DID make sense to us.

In any case, we bought a handful of streamers and nymphs and quickly decided it would be fun to take the free ferry to the far side of the Kenai River and hike up the Russian River, 1) for the experience and 2) because the fly shop guy mentioned that was the ONE PLACE you could potentially throw a dry fly to a trout.

The ferry cost $12 each to take roundtrip. Fascinating. It’s non-motorized and works with the river current, both coming and going from each bank, and is guided by a rudder and a cable. It only takes a few minutes to cross. We talked to a cute little local family, the dad of which said he didn’t go too far up the Russian, personally, because it’s “too juicy” with bears. 

It’s funny because we were so worried about bears before setting out on our trip. I can’t tell you how much time we spent researching how to bring a gun with us for safety (basically impossible due to Canadian customs). And yet we’ve only seen one bear — even with all our bushwhacking! So bears have become sort of… fictional, to some degree. For me, anyway. It’s also hard to feel too scared when there are about a hundred other fishermen around. 

We started by walking a short way up the Russian River, then started casting our new streamers. Nothing. And our new nymphs. Nothing. Meanwhile, Dave saw a guy catching several small rainbows upstream from us. And what was he using? A BEAD! We switched and shortly thereafter Dave caught one. So exciting! …I, of course, caught nothing.

Until I finally did! 

A 3” BABY!

Shortly after I caught a nice Dolly Varden. 

It was a RELIEF to finally catch a few fish. But it was also really slow. We were pretty far upstream just enjoying the day and casting. I was passing by an older guy when he tried to converse a bit, though he didn’t have much English as he was from Spain. He indicated he wanted to see what I was using and I showed him my bead. Then he showed me his and said “Better” and proceeded to dig in his bag and gave me a handful of the ones he was using — slightly, smaller and just a hint more red.

I didn’t have the gear to rig up but I didn’t want to be disrespectful of his kindness — even though I didn’t give any credence to his certainty that his was better — so I quickly made just sort of a hacked jury-rigged bead set up and cast it, just to show him I was grateful. 

I kid you not. First cast I had a HUGE trout on. HUGE! I landed it and looked upriver to him and he was giving me a thumbs up. “THANK YOU,” I yelled!!

I caught a ton of fish after that. Eventually I even made a rig for Dave. 

I’m kidding. I made one for him right away. It is astounding to see such a small thing make such a big difference. We leapfrogged with this guy for the next hour as we made our way back toward the Kenai and the ferry. I thanked him so many times I think I became annoying. But he simply didn’t know how many times we’d been skunked over the past weeks. It was a gas. It was thrilling. 

We continued to catch them right up until we boarded the ferry. What a day. (Spoiler Alert: this day would need to sustain me…)

We are still trying to figure out what the HECK that fly shop guy was smoking. Too early…

We got back to the camper and made some sandwiches and hit the road north, backtracking past Girdwood where we saw TONS of cars pulled off and using binoculars and having cameras at the ready. Far off in the distance I saw a funky wave and Dave immediately knew it was a bore tide — something he had read about. It turns out that Turnagain Bay has some of the largest bore tides in the world — which happens when high tide switches to low tide and vice versa. We think this one was about 5-6 feet high.

We pulled over just in time to see all the locals who were lined up in the water catch the big wave and ride it toward the end of the Turnagain Arm. So cool! What great timing!

It took us another couple hours to get back up to the Talkeetna turn-off where there was a campground right at Montana Creek that someone had told us was nice.(Remember? Probably the #1 trout stream in all of Alaska? Yes. We are giving it another try.)

It wasn’t a nice campground. 

But we had it almost entirely to ourselves, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Everything is sodden and muddy and puddly. There has been so flippin’ much rain. We walked to the creek to see if there was any easy fishing access. 

There wasn’t.

One thing I have been super grateful for was the foresight to bring our Muck Boots along. Dave bought a pair and I brought one of my two pairs from MN to CO so I could bring them with to Alaska. Since getting to Alaska I went directly from wearing my Chacos 100% of the time to wearing my Mucks. I have lived in them. 

In Alaska, the locals wear Tuff brand. They are actually really cute. I can’t you don’t see them more at home. Maybe I’ll become a distributor. (Editor’s note: we DO have them at home. Schools sells them.)

We had pork chops again (So quick! So good!) and hit the hay.