Alaska Road Warriors

It was a peaceful night. No road noise (rare for us on this trip so far). It was sprinkling rain when we got up, so rather than dally, I jumped out of bed to TAKE A SHOWER and WASH MY HAIR! But since we didn’t want to drive on an even worse muddy road, we hooked up and drove out to the main highway, where we stopped and caught up on emails, posted a blog and I blow-dried my hair with my dryer (another “Jennie” necessity). 

We looked at the maps and it was determined that we would probably actually make it to Alaska today. Hard to believe.

It was a short drive to Haines Junction, a cute little town where Dave found us an amazing bakery. And me, with my newly washed and blow-dried hair, just itchin’ for a good latté and breakfast sandwich, well… I was very happy. We also bought some KILLER jalapeño cheddar bread, which I’ve got to learn how to make.

This was a killer of a drive day. 

H O R R I B L E roads for the majority of the day. And here… here is where “The Milepost” actually DOWNPLAYED the reality. I mean, there were frost-heaved areas that could — and almost did — launch the camper airborne. There were areas where it wouldn’t matter if you slowed from the posted 90 KMH (60mph or so) down to a crawl because of the bone-rattling, teeth jarring pot holes and asphalt patching. It’s referred as DESTRUCTION BAY, which is a bay of Kluane Lake in Yukon, but also is a very apt name for the road. 200+ miles of pure hell.

Stressful.  It was here that Dave said, “I don’t care how we do it, but we are taking the ferry home.” I almost peed laughing….(and also: it’s not happening), but now I realize I haven’t explained the whole ferry story. It will have to wait. I have like 5 minutes of internet and Dave is chomping to go.

The whole day was made worse because we don’t really trust anything about 1) the hitch, 2) the camper suspension (I haven’t mentioned a concerning sound emanating from the driver-side tire/hub/suspension) and 3) the refrigerator. 

The border crossing, just before Tok Alaska, was uneventful. I was worried about all the food we had bought in Whitehorse, but it wasn’t an issue. Just “welcome home,” from the border agent, which actually felt kind of nice, and on we went. 

We were SO RELIEVED to be on a smooth road that it was hard not to start singing the national anthem, but it was just a 10 mile stretch probably just to make us look good to the Canadians. I mean… we gotta have something over them, right? And, despite my pleas to take a picture of the “Welcome to Alaska” sign… it didn’t happen.

The road got worse again, but not as bad as before. Take THAT, Canada!

We were just looking for a place to park it for the night and picked “Tok River Campground” which was a glorified rest stop on the Alaska Highway with tandem ore trucks roaring by directly behind on a more-or-less regular basis. All. Night. Long. It was also really hot. It wasn’t our best night. 

But the Green Curry over rice was good. It actually made it into our food rankings so far. (We have a list… But sorry, no picture. I have one, but Dave is staring at me…It’s 8:15pm and we have nowhere to stay tonight.)

We pulled out the cribbage board again. And this is truly odd for us. We aren’t game-players. But, with no internet, and with only so much reading you can do, cribbage is a good diversion. Dave won.

No reason to linger in Ye Olde Tok River Campground, so we pulled stakes and hit the road for Valdez. My job planning is officially done. I got us here, so I’m leaving the rest of the fun to Dave. 

Only to learn that he hasn’t planned any fun.

He planned two fishing trips near the end of our stay here. And that’s the extent of it. he doesn’t have a “must do” check list, or online resources downloaded. The guy has done nothing.

Except drive.

And driving is valuable. So… I’ve decided to cut him some slack.

We made a mandatory stop in the town of Tok — coined “Main Street” of the Alaska Highway because you are FORCED to drive through it both coming and going from Alaska. They had a great grocery store, so I picked up some stuff. We filled the water tank. We ran the generator to bring the batteries up to 70%. And we paid $3 to hose down the car and camper. We were PRODUCTIVE!

So now, I’m in the passenger seat again, googling. Dave did find a spot to camp near Valdez before we left Tok that looked good but you needed to reserve a site online — get this — SEVEN DAYS in advance!! There was a phone number you could call and this is what we learned:

The sisters that manage the campground will only guarantee your site if you book it online at least 7 days in advance. You are still allowed to MAKE an online reservation inside of 7 days but they have all kinds of disclaimers on the site saying they won’t guarantee it. Why? Because someone (like us) can drive to the campground and claim an unoccupied site. How do you know if it’s open? By consulting the laminated sign at each individual camp site showing a list of all the confirmed reservations. The list looks like this:

Site 11:
23 + 24 Alice
27 Dawn
8/1-2 Frederick

So if someone (like us) pulls in to site 11 and wants to stay on 7/25 and 7/26, we can stay there. We pay at the campground kiosk and we are good to go. We are now the rightful owners of that site for the next two nights. But WOE IS YOU if someone made an ONLINE reservation a few days ago for site 11, thought they were good to go, and showed up to camp there, right?

I’m not sure if any of that even makes sense, but we are still marveling at/laughing about the whole thing. I’m kicking myself for not taking a picture of the sign. Never seen anything like it.

After we set up camp, we visited nearby Worthington Glacier. (You had to pay $5 to park to go walk up and see the glacier, which I found odd, but odder was that Tammy, one of the campground sisters(!), met each car as they parked, wearing a little apron to hold all her money and make change. We talked to her about the site we had just selected and payed for and she said something like “…That’s fine, he made a reservation inside of 7 days and we just don’t guarantee that, so that’s just too bad for him.”

???

Dave and I tried to figure out how we would defend ourselves and our site should “He” show up, but “He” never did. So maybe she was just talking HYPOTHETICALLY? Again. Just a crazy weird system.

We hiked around the glacier and a nearby overlook and it was absolutely stunning. 

We also drove the 25 miles into Valdez to check it out. The whole area is beyond beautiful. People we talked to told us it is rare to see across the bay and up to the mountains. Which is really too bad — to think you’d be here and NOT be able to see it is so sad! We felt really fortunate to be able to experience it.

We drove to the far side of the bay to see the hatchery. The pink salmon (Humpies) are running right now and it was crazy to see. We CLEARLY did not do enough research about salmon fishing and are learning quite a bit. And it’s shocking – at least to me. I thought you “fished” for salmon. But, as far as I am understanding, in most cases you don’t. You basically try to nab a “soon-to-be dying fish.”

In the case of these pink salmon, which you could see in the water by the thousands,  people lined the shore fishing for them with simple hooks by “snagging” them. It’s actually a thing. We’ve all snagged a fish by accident, but this is done on purpose. You cast your line out and reel in through these huge clusters of fish and snag one. Then reel it in.

It feels super gross to me.

We are hearing you can fish the same for way Reds (Sockeye) on Kenai — only “snagging” isn’t legal in the rivers. Instead, you FLOSS them. It’s too complicated to try to describe, but basically, you purposely try to get your line to go through the open mouth of a salmon and, if you do it right, the hook at the end of your line lodges in its mouth — which is legal.

Again, gross.

I’ve done a fair bit of googling on this subject since, and I’m still totally confused. Sockeye, in particular, rarely bite on a lure. They eat mostly plankton and crustaceans. But people do fish for them with complicated rigs baited with bright shrimp. And they do seem to bite those. How hard all this is to do, I don’t have a clue. It seems really overwhelming to figure out, so I’m really looking forward to fishing with a guide and mining him for info. Right now, it’s all a mystery.

Anyway, we learned all this from two guys we met who were snag fishing in Valdez Bay. We started talking to them and learned they are actually avid fly fishermen — which seems exceedingly rare in Alaska. They were fully cognizant of the fact snagging and flossing isn’t actually fly fishing. But, they said that’s what the “everyman” does to catch salmon if you want to eat it or take it home.

Reds (Sockeye) are now actively running and they are considered the second best tasting salmon, so I hope we are able to get some — even if we just buy it somewhere. And hopefully we have the opportunity to fish for Silver Salmon — as that type of salmon behaves more like an actual fish and will bite a lure — but that would be near the end of our trip because they don’t start running until mid August. 

All probably tmi for you non-fishing people but there you have it.

Just up from where people were fishing is the Humpie (Pink Salmon) hatchery. All these fish are here in this bay because they are returning to where they were born (at the hatchery). Most of this variety are collected and used for the canned salmon you buy in the store, as well as for local’s sustenance fishing. At the hatchery there are tons of sea lions just gorging on the fish. And they are HUGE! They are so much bigger than I realized! I can’t upload the video because I don’t have enough signal, but I’ll try to put it on instagram. This is a lame picture:

We didn’t get back to camp until close to 8:30. I made tacos (!!) Anyone who knows me knows that is my favorite food. These weren’t “full on” tacos — for that I’d need soft shell corn and green La Victoria taco sauce, but they were still plenty good.

It was getting cold and we crawled in. A blissfully quiet site after that nightmare on the highway the night before.

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. 

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. 

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. 

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.)

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.

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). 

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.

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.

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…

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. 

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…

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. 

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.”

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!

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. 

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? 

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. 

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. 

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!

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.

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.

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…

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.

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! 

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.

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

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.

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. 

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.