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Alaska 21. Road Warriors July 30

August 6, 2024

This entry is part 26 of 46 in the series Alaska Road Warriors

It was still rainy in the morning, but Dave made us ham and egg sandwiches for breakfast that were a 10/10. I, of course, ate mine in bed. What’s the point of getting up and sitting in the rain?

We had decided to fish at Montana Creek based on a recommendation I got from a few guys I met at the boat landing connected to the campground. I have mentioned before about the rivers being huge and silty, right? Well here is a pic of the Talkeetna River that these guys were standing on the banks of with their fly rods:

So I approached them and asked where they fished. And one guy said “Not here, obviously.” This river is like the dirtiest opaque chocolate milk/latte color. Clarity zero. It’s not actually dirty though. It’s glacial silt. There are, apparently, salmon in there, but “fishing” for them isn’t possible. (Though snagging them is.) I still don’t understand Alaska fishing:

OK I lied. I don’t have a picture of the Talkeetna River. But here is a picture someone else took:

When he said, “not here” I wasn’t even 100% sure if he was teasing me. As in: “Don’t fish here because it’s our secret spot.” I thought he might mean that because right after that he said that, he continued: “If you want to fly fish, you should go to Montana.” —What happened to friendly Alaskans?? I laughed and said, “Well I’m from Colorado, so I know all about Montana fly fishing…” And HE laughed and said, “No, no, no. Sorry, I can see how you thought that. No, I meant Montana CREEK — it’s just down the road.” Alaskan friendly is safe and sound.

Armed with our insider scoop, we set out for a 20 minute drive to Montana Creek with plans to hike up a trail that paralleled the main fork — we wanted to get good and far from other fishermen. As we parked and got ready, three trucks pulled up on the bridge behind us and piled out of their cars like ants. I can’t tell you the anxiety that causes us. We tried to make double time… but then a pickup truck with a single guy pulled up right next to us and hopped out. We were being all grumbly and spastic* — hooks getting caught everywhere, tripping over our own feet… and the pickup guy beat us to the river. But he went straight into the brush toward the main fork and not along the trail, clearly not as COMMITTED and HARD WORKING fishermen* as we are.

We set out on the trail — a well signed and official trail that shows up on maps — which quickly degraded to the size of a game trail, fording multiple streams, over dead trees. There was no way you could have done that trail without waders on. Especially when it came to an actual river — one that even we, with waders on, couldn’t cross because it was too dangerous. As we were contemplating our next move, who walks by us from upstream but that dang guy from the pickup! Where did he come from?? He told us there was no where to cross so he was going back to the main river. 

No where to cross, my ASS! We are HARD CORE. We will find somewhere to cross. Where there’s a will there’s a way, man.

We bushwhacked. Through what I think must be similar to the Amazon Jungle. I do NOT like walking through stuff like that. It grosses me out. It’s scary. It’s hard. It’s stressful. You can take a step and fall into a hole. You can fall over an unseen tree covered in moss. Your rod gets stuck in branches. Waders are REALLY hard to climb in. 

Fording the Alaskan jungle…

It was a serious mental and physical effort.

We disagreed about where we were. Dave INSISTS on using his maps app in SATELLITE mode. So he was struggling to even SEE the creek we were trying to follow and eventually cross… 

Am I sufficiently describing the scene? Are you getting the picture? It was no bueno.

We ended up, what seemed like, a long way upstream. We fished some good looking runs here and there. But, at this point, we are totally clueless. It was worse than being a beginner flyfisher. We were constantly yelling back and forth to each other (futilely because the river was so loud) “WHAT ARE YOU PUTTING ON?” Of course there would be no answer. Only an irritated look meant to communicate, “What in the SAM HILL are you screaming about.” — Which didn’t stop the screaming. It only intensified it. 

EVENTUALLY we determined there are NO FISH in this fork of Montana Creek and we needed to go to the main fork. (Hopefully anyone reading this will know the ridiculousness of this thought. If there are fish in one fork, there are surely fish in another that is nearby.)

We commenced another long bushwacking trek. It was awful. I silently promised myself “never again…” After another round of tense navigational “discussions.” We pop out on the main creek. —And let me explain another Alaska-ism: their “creeks” are our rivers. They are… HUGE. Half mile wide. Bigger than the Mississippi. 

Dave goes upstream to take a cast and I hear… is that a car door? Is that a dog barking? I cast a few times. I get snagged. I look upstream to see if Dave sees my snag and I see that SAME GUY FROM THE PICKUP standing right above Dave casting into the water we so strategically picked to fish next.

I guess I don’t have a pic of Dave fishing Montana, but he got pic of me.

Here we think we are at LEAST a mile into the back country where literally NO ONE ELSE would ever think of venturing and we are apparently on some main thoroughfare? Within the next thirty minutes I saw a guy with his dog on an ATV. Six more fishermen in four different groups. Two kids running through the creek barefoot, seemingly unsupervised, with a net — in water I was struggling to stand up in and not die.

It was a day.

We walked out along a FRICKEN ROAD. It was actually pretty funny if you can get over the fact that we both felt like we had hiked 8 miles. 

The road.

All either one of us wanted at that point was another beer at Denali Brewing. The sun had come out toward the end of the afternoon and it was LOVELY! We sat on the deck in the sun and drank it up (the beer).

Sitting in the sun at Denali Brew Pub after an exhausting day

I noticed a t-shirt on a guy at the next table and asked if he was from Minnesota. They were not only from Minnesota but from Norwood Young America (near Watertown). When we learned that he grew up in Waconia, Dave asked him if he know Randy and Julie Sicheneder (great friends from Watertown). The guy goes “We ARE Sicheneders. Randy’s my cousin.” 

Again — what are the FLIPPIN’ CHANCES of THAT?

We talked to them for a long while. His son lives in Wasilla, is a pilot, owns, not one, but two planes. Lives with his girlfriend who also owns a plane. They keep them in their “garage” and “drive them down the street” to the runway. Did you know that planes have right of way in Alaska? Neither did I.

Fun afternoon.

We went back to our gravel-pit-circus-pizza campsite, ran our generator along with the rest of the RVs. I guess we are fully “those people” now… We weren’t terribly hungry,  because — oh yeah — in order to sit in the SUN at Denali Brewing we had to order some food. And one order of chips and salsa just wasn’t enough. So we had two…

But I didn’t think we could have crackers and cheese again, and Dave told me I HAD to use up the rest of the hamburger from tacos 5 days earlier, so I made literally the worst patty melt hamburgers I have ever eaten in my life. They tasted like NOTHING. It didn’t stop me from eating the whole damn thing though. 

Gross patty melts with delicious cauliflower

Why?

We logged another game of cribbage in the bright sunlight at 9:30pm and went to bed at 10 (still in the bright sunlight). In fact, the sun hadn’t even yet gone below the tree line. We hadn’t seen much actual sun so far and it was really, REALLY nice.

Loving the sun

*Spastic. FisherMEN: both words I’m not sure I’m supposed to use anymore but I’m using them anyway and hope dearly I haven’t offended anyone. 

Filed Under: Road Warriors

Alaska 20. Road Warriors July 29

August 5, 2024

This entry is part 27 of 46 in the series Alaska Road Warriors

We slept well. Highway noise wasn’t too loud. Awoke to more rain. Not a surprise though, as we had seen the forecast. And, as you no doubt know by now, the forecast grim.

We spent the morning reading and drinking coffee in bed. I caught up on writing and Dave is trying to figure out the next week of FUN ACTIVITIES to entertain me. It will be raining a lot, that much we know. 

Rainy morning and reading in bed

He landed on spending the bulk of the time around (but not in) Anchorage. Though — and I may not have mentioned this — we DO have another date with an Amazon locker! This time, to pick up the gas regulator for our bricked gas grill that has traveled over 5000 useless miles so far. Dave wanted to buy a new one, but I wouldn’t let him. Instead, using my new Amazon locker skillz, I ordered one almost two weeks ago to arrive in Anchorage this week. What do you know! 

So, we’ll troll around Talkeetna, Willow, Palmer, etc and try to entertain ourselves. A reader from out east suggested the Anchorage museum and we plan to do that when we swing through to pick up the regulator.

I was busy trying to get a blog posted since we had service, so I wasn’t doing my usual excellent job of reading to Dave about every mundane gravel turnout detailed in The Milepost. I had my head down much of the time. So it was with astonishment that when I DID lift my head, upon coming into the town of Talkeetna. I was stunned speechless. It looked like Dan Patch Boulevard at the Minnesota State Fair. Literally TEEMING with people walking both sides of a cute, kitschy/touristy village. 

Honestly. You come out of what feels like the back woods where you’ve seen few people, few cars and then BAM. Where did they come from? Where are they STAYING? It’s crazy.

(Spoiler Alert: a bit of the mystery was solved the next day when we saw a Princess Cruises bus leaving town packed with cruisers!)

We parked the rig on a back street and got out to walk around and check out the campgrounds I had read about.

The first was quite literally near the end (but not quite AT the end — which would have helped) of the busy street. It would be like parking the pod next to the giant slide on September 5th. I mean… definitely no naked potty run in the middle of the night.

Denali Brewing has good beer!

So we walked up the street and became distracted by the good smells coming from the restaurants — which all looked pretty good. We stopped in to the Denali Brew Pub, sat outside all bundled up and under the awning where we stayed nice and dry — if a little chilled to the bone. We ordered some delicious beer and decided to eat a late lunch: fish ‘n chips for me and chowder and brisket for Dave. Yum. Stuffed.

I’m sorry, but I only seem to have pictures of my food and drink…

We then waddled to the second campground, about a 15 minute walk away. It was dark and dank. Muddy and puddley… But there were a few spots with nice big rocks to park on instead of puddles, muddy pot holes under a dripping canopy of spruce. These were out in the open along the Talkeetna River. Not wanting to drive anymore and just wanting to be done, I sat at the site (so no one could take it) while Dave ran back to get the rig. 

The camper has developed an INSANE squeaking sound that we think is coming from the springs on the suspension. We talked to the techs at Escapod and they believed we needed to re-grease the ports so Dave drove about 15 miles to a hardware store, bought a grease gun and set to work. 

It did nothing. 

We aren’t super concerned but it’s annoying — and a little embarrassing — as we squeak our way through pot-holed campgrounds scoping out sites. It doesn’t make the sound when we are going fast — or at least we can’t hear it.

The camper next to us had the same generator as us and since his was running, we decided to run ours too. Generators have always driven us absolutely CRAZY, so we are SUPER self conscious about using them. Because, you know, it makes us supreme hypocrites… We ran ours for about 45 minutes and turned it off — while neighbor kept his going for another couple hours. In one of my random conversations with passers by, I motioned to the camper next to us and said, “I wish this guy would turn off his generator…”

And I only tell you this because the guy I said it to (and his family) went back into their rental camper (never to be seen again) and turned on their generator for the REST OF THE NIGHT. They turned it off sometime after we fell asleep and turned it back on again at 8am. They never even emerged in the morning. I was so annoyed. I am getting so intolerant of noise as I get older. A real curmudgeon. But in my defense, most campgrounds have rules about when and how long you can run your generator — and it isn’t for 5 hours straight or past 10 pm. So there.

Dave made a valiant effort at a fire with our horrible firewood. It took him forEVER to get it going. We did our usual rotating around the fire to try to avoid the smoke while we talked to almost everyone who went by: two different groups from Colorado. A group from Wisconsin. And one or two others I can’t remember. 

We were so flippin’ full from lunch that we just had cheese and crackers for dinner. 

Well, and some whiskey, too. 

And called it a night

Filed Under: Road Warriors

Alaska 19. Road Warriors July 28

August 3, 2024

This entry is part 28 of 46 in the series Alaska Road Warriors

It rained all night. Morning was socked in, our hopes of seeing Denali all but gone. We dawdled a bit. Dave decided to get up and make ME breakfast in bed — blueberry pancakes again because our blueberries are starting to look a little worse for the wear. 

We got to the main highway in Cantwell, got some cell service and learned our halibut charter scheduled for 8/14 was canceled so we had to do some calling and rebooking, blah blah blah. It’s all sorted now — presuming the ferry to Kodiak Island is on time… but we will cross that fjord when we come to it.

On to Denali!

This is another national park, so we braced ourselves for the crowds…

Hello crowds!

But once in the park, it actually wasn’t bad at all. We stopped at the campground registration to see if, on the outside chance, they had any openings. They didn’t, which was fine. The exercise of standing in line for Dave proved to be one of his biggest challenges in several days.

My favorite pic of Dave so far

It was a long wait. The girl working was cheerful and chatty almost to a fault, describing the rules (and believe me: they are long and legitimately complicated) anew to each person who eventually ended up in front of her in the line. Wanna know about the weather? Just a minute! She’ll check for you! And so on. It was adorable and maddening all at the same time.

Dave made it to being the second person in line and bailed. He waited over 15 minutes and when she launched into the rules for like the tenth time — every one of which he heard and understood, but apparently not one other person proceding him did, he couldn’t take it anymore.

I no longer say anything. I keep my head down. And we drive.

In this case, toward the trailhead.

I eventually tentatively asked, “Were we supposed to pay somewhere?” (Trying my hardest not to sound judgmental…) He said “I’m sure there will be a toll booth just like at every other national park we’ve been at.

Nope.

I still don’t quite get that! But I hastily went online while I still had a signal from the visitor center and paid for two adult passes. No one ever asked for them. There was no pay booth. Odd. 

And the clouds were miraculously lifting! 

Listen. I know you can’t see it, but it’s there.

We got to see the mountain. Denali looked, honestly, fake. It was hard to see the mountain from the clouds around it. In fact, in the one super-fast picture I took you literally cannot see the mountain from the clouds. But we did see it. And it was gone in an instant, not to be seen again for the rest of the day. I kid you not. I was sad but also grateful for that chance.

Savage River Alpine Hike: 4.2 miles, 1,414 elevation gain

We did a nice point-to-point hike from Savage River to Mountain Vista, called the Savage River Alpine Loop. It was awesome because you didn’t have to BACKTRACK! You got to take the free shuttle bus back to the starting point. Most of the people in the park are on the buses, which makes such a huge difference — even though we weren’t one of them. #hypocrites

Climb, climb, climb

We met a few people who stopped to gawp at our rig. Seriously. If I had a buck for every man (aka little boy) who has stopped in his tracks at the All Show/No Go, tricked-out Bronco pulling the bad-ass Topo 2 camper, I’d be rich. Not kidding. But the phenomenon HAS been the conduit to many interesting conversations with people. The two latest instances being people from Colorado. There are LOTS of people from Colorado visiting Alaska, it seems.

So, women: guys have it figured out. If THEY want to meet WOMEN, they get a puppy and walk it through the park. Likewise, here is my tip for women wanting to meet MEN: get a tricked out bronco and pod and drive it through Alaska. I can’t guarantee they’ll all have a full set of teeth, but the odds are in your favor.

My little buddy eating what looks to be an apple core

After our hike (which was great) we went back down to the campground store to do some laundry, take a shower and catch up on emails. (I mean, c’mon, we paid our fee!). The laundry was a very popular place. They call it Combat Fishing when a river is so crowded you have to jockey for position to find a spot to fish. This was Combat LAUNDRY.  

I did eventually secure two washing machines but, alas, I failed completely at the dryer stage. Earlier in the day, in Cantwell, we had stopped for gas at a place HIGHLY TOUTED in The Milepost as having “clean bathrooms, friendly staff and nice laundry facilities.” In fact, I had been COUNTING on the rest room for *cough cough* … I promised not to talk about this anymore. But… I had timed it JUST RIGHT. Only to walk confidently up to the door to the gas station to read the sign taped to the door: “Bathrooms closed.”

I have never seen a sign at a gas station such as that.

“Bathrooms closed,” I asked?

“Yes.”

“You have zero bathrooms available,” I continued?

“Our septic is broken. There are woods out back.”

So I went out back. 

And I did NOT have the best memories of the might Vitrus gas station stop. 

However, they DID have laundry — that was also closed, because – duh – broken septic. But would they let us use the dryers?

Why, yes, they would!

So we bundled two wet loads of laundry back into our bag and hit the road.

We got everything dried. I worked on, you guessed it: this damn blog. Dave grudgingly agreed to try to find someplace to stay for the night. It was already 8pm,                   hadn’t even eaten. 

About 30 minutes later we pulled off the highway onto a short paved road thinking we were at a spot described in The Milepost as being a good overnight place for RVers with toilet, picnic tables, etc. But we turned too early. It was clearly a place people used to stop, but it was on Ahtna, Inc. land. I tried googling Ahtna the first time I saw it and it’s still a bit of a mystery. It own TONS of land in this area, including on the Denali Highway. From best I can tell, it’s an indigenous people company charging a fee to use its land. It seems to butt up to BLM and national forest land, but you have to pay a fee. 

Ahtna, Inc. gravel turnout. $20 fro the privilege

So, we paid $20 to park a few hundred yards off the highway in a gravel turn out. Which seemed a little crazy, but that’s what you do when you are tired. 

At least we were legal.

I made Dave another jalapeño cheddar bread grilled ham and cheese and tucked him into bed happy. 

Filed Under: Road Warriors

Alaska 18. Road Warriors July 27

August 3, 2024

This entry is part 29 of 46 in the series Alaska Road Warriors
Good Morning!

It spit rain most of the night but it had stopped by morning. In fact, the weather was quite nice! Breakfast was served at 8:30 in the “great room” — another building with a big space upstairs. We had an egg bake, freshly made croissants, a pear ginger olive oil cake, OJ and other assortments, along with some very good coffee. It was super interesting to hear about their life in Alaska. Interestingly, Audie and Jenny, along with their six year old son Gus are researching spots in Minnesota to spend winters. Which is actually funny: Alaskans coming to Minnesota to escape Alaska winters. That should give you something to think about.

Jenny actually grew up in Jackson, Minnesota, so there is a connection — but it’s a pretty thin one, as she left during high school and has no family there anymore. Instead, they are mostly attracted to Minnesota for the superior public school system. They asked us all about our opinions regarding Minnetonka, Orono, and Eden Prairie districts. Right now, they are most enamored of a spot they’ve seen on Zillow in Maple Plain — some of which is in the Orono district. What are the flippin’ chances of running into someone in rural Alaska looking at property in flippin’ MAPLE PLAIN? What a crazy world.

They gave us some encouragement (or rather they gave ME some backing) about our route home. In my *distaste* for backtracking, I have been lobbying for going the north route via the “Top of the World” highway. I have a very special letter I am carrying to the North Pole for a very special girl and that route takes us through there. Dave has repeatedly asked me if I am serious. (I am.) Audie and Jenny said the highway is “not to be missed” and so now at least I have some backing.

What’s a little more driving?

Seriously. This is hard to explain, but I will try: 

After so much driving — or maybe because of it — the CAR feels more like home than anywhere else. More than hiking. More than fishing. The camper = dinner and sleep and blankies. All good. But as I sit in the camper in the morning (usually in the rain), I’m thinking not about a hike or seeing some particular sights, but I’m looking forward to getting in the car and driving. What is with that?? As far as camping goes, I have always longed to “stay put” and “pick a spot and stay there”. Mostly, I think, because we never do that — with the exception of a trip to Yoho in Banff with the kids years ago, and I remember loving it. 

But NOW, it feels weird. I’m like, “Let’s go!” I keep thinking, “When we get to ______ (fill in the blank) THEN we’ll find a place and stay there a few days.” But it hasn’t happened yet. I’m not complaining. I just find it curious. Maybe if we had PLANNED more? As is literally ALWAYS the case with us, we don’t plan. Then we find we have no internet. So we are just basically driving around reading our books and figuring it out on the fly. Again, not complaining at all. Just observing. And wondering if I would like it better or worse to have a plan. 

The jury is out. I guess because I haven’t experienced a planned camping trip. I HAVE experienced a planned trip to Europe when Morgan was a senior and I, frankly, didn’t like it. So maybe that should tell me something…

Anyway, we left our delightful hosts at The Denali Highway Cabins and set out across the Denali Highway, which cuts across from Paxson to Cantwell, just south of Denali National Park. The forecast is GRIM. But, as I mentioned earlier, we chose to come up here now because it DID show the two least rainy days for the next seven days as being today and tomorrow. It’s our deepest desire to be able to actually SEE Denali — only 30% of summertime visitors do. It’s over 20,000 feet tall and obscured most of the time. As we have recently learned, July is Alaska’s rainiest month. 

Wide open tundra on the Denali highway

The Denali Highway is 134 miles long. I don’t think it was ever on our “to do” list for Alaska, but here we are. So we pulled out our “Milepost” and proceeded to read about the awful gravel rutted and pot holed road we were about to embark on — “made worse by any recent rains…”

Ugh. 

But, for once, The Milepost was completely wrong. The road was 80% paved. It wasn’t bad at all. And it was STUNNING. We were fortunate to be able to actually see it. As is the case everywhere in Alaska, your experience and ultimate opinion of a particular place is largely determined by the damn weather. As in: were you able to see it? 

Big, huge open vistas in every direction

I talked to some guys in the laundromat a couple days later and they had been on the Denali Highway the day before us (the day we drove from Valdez and it rained the whole day) and they saw exactly nothing. It will be probably in my top three experiences in Alaska and it won’t even register on theirs. 

Are you sick of scenery shots yet?

We wanted to get close enough to the Denali side of the highway so that we could get an early-ish start if the weather was good, so we went to mile 94 (funny, how all we talk about now is mileposts) and camped by Seattle Creek. We fished for a couple hours and caught several grayling. 

Grayling. The dumbest fish I’ve met so far.

They bite much like trout. And they are strong. But that’s where the similarity ends. They are the DUMBEST fish. They don’t seem to spook easily. They don’t hook easily. But they. hit the dry fly and when the miss it, they continue to go for it. Over and over and over again. Even fishing with a smaller hook, I only catch one every 10 takes or so. But I DO see them grab the fly and swim to the bottom and hold it in their mouth before finally letting it go. At this point, they MUST KNOW it’s foam and fuzz. It is NOT a tasty bug. But this same fish will go for that same fly for ten casts until I eventually hook it, drag it in and release it. Then that fish will sit in the water next to my feet…. And yes, it will go for the same fly that just put a hook in its mouth. 

I’m not sure why I thought grayling were like “the ultimate” fish to catch in Alaska, but I don’t think that any longer! And the books say that Dolly Varden are the dumbest. I can’t wait to meet one of THOSE!

Bigger mountains as we got further west

We had a dinner of stir-fried pork with pac choi and celery with a sauce I conjured up from the strange list of random ingredients I had: sriracha, soy, garlic, coriander, sesame oil and rice vinegar. It was actually not bad.

Turn-out on Seattle Creek for the night

We took a walk up an ATV trail behind us, Dave made a fire… and then it started to rain again so we went to bed.

It’s so crazy to go to bed when it’s so light out. But if we wanted to wait until it was dark we’d be up past midnight. So I am getting used to it — Dave has NEVER had a problem in this department.

Filed Under: Road Warriors

Alaska 17. Road Warriors July 26

August 2, 2024

This entry is part 30 of 46 in the series Alaska Road Warriors
She ‘da Fat Mermaid!

Rained most of the night. Raining this morning. So we backtracked (*gasp*) back to Valdez for breakfast out at The Fat Mermaid (delicious), ran some errands, posted a blog, called Dave’s dad to wish him Happy 92 years (he was out golfing). 

Rain rain raining in Valdez

We don’t really know what to do, frankly. So I also downloaded a Lonely Planet book on Alaska so we could consult it when we don’t have cell service, which is most of the time. You’d think we’d have done this BEFORE heading off on a cross-country trip, but alas, no. We don’t do it that way. 

We are hoping to escape the rain by heading inland. Our trip odometer is hovering right below FIVE THOUSAND miles! (And when I start to think that’s an actual accomplishment, I only have to think of that poor biker on his way to Argentina. And I feel rather silly.)

We decided to try to hit Denali during what looks to be the only couple days for the next week that shows some clear-ish skies. I don’t know what percentage of the time Denali is in the clouds, but it is more often than not, from everything I am hearing and reading.

It rained steady all day on our drive and the temps didn’t go above 50. Dave made some comment about tonight being a night he “wouldn’t mind finding a hotel,” so when I saw a tiny ad in The Milepost for some cute cabins at the Denali Highway junction in Paxton, I pulled up their website and showed it to Dave. We didn’t even call. We just pulled in and they had room.

The Denali Highway Cabins in Paxton
(pic taken the next morning in the –*gasp*– SUN!)

Interesting situation. Because the owner has been battling cancer for the past year, and has to fly down to Seattle for treatments, he didn’t take any bookings for the summer since he doesn’t really know when he will be round. I can imagine that this place would usually be booked solid, as it’s very nice and well run. Not that I’ve really looked around much, but from what I’ve OBSERVED since being here, there aren’t many (maybe ANY) very high end places to stay.

For example, if you had walked into The Fat Mermaid in Valdez, based on its appearance (basic dive bar) you would expect to pay *maybe* $8 for an omelette. Not the $19.99 that we actually paid. But the food was delicious. Really good. And reading later in the books about Valdez, it’s suppose to be this epicenter for cosmopolitan dining… We didn’t see one “nice” restaurant. I guess it’s one of those “you can’t just a book by its cover” situations? Everything is ramshackle. But I guess that doesn’t mean it isn’t really good.

Happy campers

Anyway, based on that preamble, these cabins were high end for Alaska. They’d still be nice in the lower 48, but they are top-of-the-line here. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We turned the heat up, sat on the couch and read, opened a bottle of wine…

Just Jennie, cooking in the rain again!

Eventually I faced the rain and went out to make dinner in the camper (grilled ham and cheese on jalapeño bread with cauliflower), and slept in a delightfully comfy bed looking out at a beautiful view. 

comfy, cozy. And light at midnight

What is noteworthy is that neither Dave and I have gotten sick of the camper yet. It’s amazingly efficient and comfortable. I really don’t feel like I’m missing much from the comforts of home. The only time we feel a little crazy is during these long spells of rain, since by going into the camper you are essentially sitting on a bed. You can’t stand up. And that gets old. We do have a nice awning room we can put out and I think we will have to start thinking about doing that for the rest of our time here. It’s a bit of a pain, though. So moving every night makes us go, “Eh… let’s not.” Not to mention you need room to the side of the camper, which we often don’t have. 

Since I don’t have much else to show for our efforts today, I’ll show you the camper. It has an extremely comfortable memory foam queen size mattress that I have topped with a cute, cheap fleece blanket from Costco and a boring, expensive down Rumpl comforter. We also each have hand sewn fleece blankies that a dear friend made for Morgan and Charlie probably 25 years ago now. I neglected to give them their blankets when they moved away because… well… I like them too much. Maybe someday they will get them back — but only if they promise to take care of them. I’m probably outing myself by writing this and I’m going to hear from them wanting their rightful property…

Stolen goods.

I “make the bed” every morning and it brings me great joy every time I open the camper door to see it neat and tidy in there. 

Bed all made for the day!

We each have a cabinet for our clothes. As is always the case camping, we tend to wear the same thing over and over and over though. So even this tiny cabinet is turning out to be “over packed.”

Jennie’s clothes cabinet – OVERPACKED

The center cabinet holds things like sunscreen, fuses, toiletries, cribbage board… I’m really not utilizing the space all the much, oddly. I thought we’d be packed tight in the camper, but we really aren’t. *

Behind our heads is a large storage space for the (unused) YOGA MAT, outside rugs (which we also haven’t been using – which is strange because I used the rug for the pop up all the time). But actually, now that I think about it, it does make sense. Because we WALKED in the pop-up. We never set “foot” in the pod, so we really don’t need a rug. Huh. Never thought about that until now! *

In the back of the pod is the kitchen. I keep my spices and oils as well as cookware in the back. All the groceries are in the car. When we go for shorter trips, I usually have most of the groceries in the back, but because of bears and wanting to keep all the food together for efficiency, we have it in bins in the car. It’s working well. *

So, if we can figure this rain situation out, we’ll be golden!

*It is late, I don’t have the picks uploaded and I need to post this while I have service. Let me know if you are interested in seeing more GEAR or if I should skip that!

Filed Under: Road Warriors

Alaska 16. Road Warriors July 25

July 31, 2024

This entry is part 31 of 46 in the series Alaska Road Warriors

We woke up to thick, thick fog. I had been promising blueberry pancakes for a few days now, and today was the day! Dave had made coffee and crawled back into bed. And I crawled out and made pancakes and served Dave in bed. 

Dave’s blueberry pancakes served in bed

Role reversal!

It was rainy and cold so we dug out our rain gear and headed inland, hoping for less rain and planning to fish. it was shocking how fast we came out of the rain. We even saw the sun. Temps rose almost 20 degrees in a matter of miles. We had to drive a ways to find fishable water. That is, CLEAR water. Most of the rivers here are HUGE and silty. That isn’t to say there aren’t fish in them, but I guess sport fishermen don’t fish them. We have NO IDEA what we are doing. So we are just kind of playing around and trying to figure it out. 

What we SHOULD be doing is HIKING. Cuz this girl had drunk way too much beer. Eaten way too many Mike and Ikes, and squirted far too much much Easy Cheese. But we didn’t even bring hiking clothes, assuming it was going to be raining all day. In fact, I have on my heaviest black fleece pants and now it’s sunny and 73 degrees. I’m literally dying. 

One sad note is RIP my small creek Remington Classic Trout rod and reel. Our roof-top River Quiver somehow came open on the highway and the rod fell out. Dave is madder than mad. And I get it. But given that our most prized rods are SAFE and the least expensive of the four that were in there is the one that fell out and got crushed by someone who didn’t see it, I am feeling grateful. It’s still a bummer, but it could have been so, so much worse. 

We caught a few grayling. And yes, Jennie FINALLY hooked a few. And, happily, they DIDN’T stink. So now we think the ones Dave caught in the Yukon stunk because the water stunk. (I only know the water stunk because an air boat roared by us and as the waves crashed against the shore it smelled fishy.) I don’t know if that’s really why those smelled bad, Im just glad THESE don’t. 

Have lost track of the names, but this is where a clear creek meets a glacial river
That Grayling was done being patient with me

We headed back to camp. I was dying of heat. A/C on full blast. Pounding cherries… the cherries on this trip have been SO GOOD. As we neared the coastal mountains, we were back in the clouds and the temp dropped right back down to 50 degrees. Crazy. We had talked about staying a third night, but the forecast is grim, so we plan to leave in the morning. 

Zero view from our site today. All day.
As compared to picture taken from same spot the day before…

As I write this, I realize I’m not taking enough pictures. My photo rolls is filled with screenshots and food. — And pictures of hitch connections, muddy tire suspensions and missing solar panels. Boring.

But I know you want to know about dinner, right? Penne pasta with sausage, peppers and cheese and… instead of cheesy bread, I made grilled jalapeno cheese bread. Seriously a contender for the #1 spot. (The cheese bread, I mean.)

Penne with sausage and peppers + jalapeño cheese bread!

Rain and cold sent us to the camper for a cribbage game before Dave going to sleep just before 9 pm and a NEW RECORD of 8 hours and 23 minutes of actual sleep, per his Apple Watch.

Filed Under: Road Warriors

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Jen menke

I’m a mostly-retired, pretend graphics and web developer (but don’t judge my skillz by THIS site!). We sold our dream home in Watertown, MN and downsized to a “Villa” in Excelsior, MN and built a home in our dream location of Eagle, CO and now split our time between the two states. It is truly a dichotomous life of absentee gardening and getting together with friends & family while in MN and playing hard and hermitting while in CO. I’ve let the blog go but a trip to Alaska has me resurrecting the Road Warriors series. My beloved brother is my biggest fan and I am doing this just for him.

Latest Reads:

Jennie's bookshelf: read

Trail of Broken Wings
2 of 5 stars
Trail of Broken Wings
by Sejal Badani
Started out strong and dwindled off for me. I wasn't enamored of the writing and -- maybe it's just me -- but the secrets!? I understand that you have to be willing to swallow a fair amount of incredulity when enjoying a lot of fiction, ...
The Girl on the Train
3 of 5 stars
The Girl on the Train
by Paula Hawkins
Audible book. Good, mindless listen. Pretty good action and twists. Not as good as all the hype, in my opinion, but I did enjoy. --Not enough to choose for my bookclub though: it would have been carved up by those English-teaching wolves...
I'm a Stranger Here Myself: Notes on Returning to America after Twenty Years Away
4 of 5 stars
I'm a Stranger Here Myself: Notes on Returning to America after Twenty Years Away
by Bill Bryson
Not my favorite Bryson book. However, it's been several years since I last read one and I was -- once again -- astounded by his writing style and voice. I just love him. I think this book is mostly compiled from columns he wrote over a c...

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