Nancy and I attempted to define our 10 best days on the trip and ended up with 16 finalists. They're listed in order of appearance below. The finalists are all days we'll remember vividly for the rest of our lives. You'll notice some 7, 8, and 9 day gaps between these "super-days". Those gaps were filled with scenery and experiences that would be fond memories for most vacations. We had great days in those gaps, but the 16 days below are the indelible record of our Alaska RV Adventure.
7-July
A Day Of Toil And Triumph
Tetsa River to Muncho Lake: Stone Sheep, Cariboo, Moose, And Awesomely Beautiful Mountains
15-July
One Moose, Two Moose--Brown Moose, New Moose
Dempster Day 1--Magnificant Mountains, Mini-Glacier At The Roadside, Two Moose, Artic Fox, And Mosquitoes
16-July
Red Rodents For A Cool Lady
Dempster Highway Day 2: Yukon Love Affair
17-July
A Gray And Grizzly Day
Dempster Highway Day 3: Clouds, Mountains, Rain, Mud, Grizzlies, Fog, And Really Wilderness Hilltop Campsite
26-July
A Gray And Glacier Day
Valdez Charter Boat Trip: Birds, Otters, Seals, Whales, Waterfalls, And Incredible Glaciers
28-July
Here We Go Shoupe De Shoupe
Valdez Das Bot Trip: More Birds And Otters Plus Our Own Private Glacier
6-August
Island In The Sun
Kodiak Island: Arrival, Pillar Mountain 360 Degree View, Twin Creeks Camping, And Salmon EVERYWHERE
8-August
Big Brown Bears
Kodiak Island Bear Trip: Beaucoup Bears And Cool Plane Ride
10-August
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
Kodiak Island: Rude Awakening, Pasagchak Road To Pinnacle In The Mist And Rocket Man
12-August
Up A Not So Lazy River
Kenai River Rafting: Bright Blue, Salmon And Salmon Fishers Teeming, A Pair Of Grizzlies
16-August
Delightful, Incredible Denali
Denali Bus Trip: Biggest Wildlife Day So Far, Very Impressive Terraine
19-August
Chean Rolla Underthebridgeda
Chena River Raft Trip: Lazy And Lovely
26-August
"Marshall Dillon! Marshall Dillon"
Haines Day 2: Bears, Owl, Fishing In A Quaint Setting
29-August
Yin & Yang
Drive To Skagway: Nearly Deserted Road In Nicely Desert-like Wilderness
1-September
Rabbit/Rabbit--Bear/Bear/Bear/Bear/Bear/Bear/Bear…
Stewart/Hyder Day 1: Championship Bear Day With Daunting Scenery For Good Measure
2-September
Grizzlies, and Glaciers, and Shrews..Oh My!
Stewart/Hyder Day 2: If The Shrew Sits, Stare At It
Trip Map
Green Dashed Line Is RV Route North And On To Homer
Brown Dashed Line Is Homer To Apogee
Red Dashed Line Is Return
Blue Dashed Lines Are Jeep-Only Trips
The Final Miles
Thursday 9/6, Friday 9/7, Saturday 9/8
We’re now just chewing up the miles on Interstate 5. We pass the time talking about the trip and remembering the great times. Thursday is totally uneventful. Everett, Seattle, Tacoma, Olympia, Longview, Portland, Salem—notable only as waypoints. CJ and the Admiral are crusted with Alaskan and Canadian dust. As we pass or are passed by sister ships we wonder if they swell with pride from their wonderous adventure.
Thursday we overnight in a rest area near Talbot, Oregon.
Friday we climb out of the flat prairie into the mountains of southern Oregon and northern California. The mountains are beautiful and rekindle memories of more distant peaks. Late in the afternoon we stop for the night in a rest area with a clear view of distant Mount Shasta—thrusting up from the brown landscape, its gray pinnacles touched with snow--impressive and a nice view from the front window of the Admiral.
Saturday morning we are awakened to the blaring sound of Mariachi music. It seems that last night we parked near a Mexican coffee & breakfast place that abuts the highway. Ole.
We’ve spent the night near Weed, CA. Gotta love this state. A few miles south of Weed we pass the rest area where we spent our first night back on 6/27—talk about coming full circle. Most of the day we’re traveling familiar roads, amid familiar terrain, and through familiar urban environments. We arrive in Santa Cruz in the late afternoon and park the Admiral on the Santa Cruz Harbor. In front of us sail and power boats float on Pacific waters. We are home and happy to be home. We are home and wishing we were in the Yukon. We are home and already beginning to dream of the next adventure. We are home, and we are very happy.
We’re now just chewing up the miles on Interstate 5. We pass the time talking about the trip and remembering the great times. Thursday is totally uneventful. Everett, Seattle, Tacoma, Olympia, Longview, Portland, Salem—notable only as waypoints. CJ and the Admiral are crusted with Alaskan and Canadian dust. As we pass or are passed by sister ships we wonder if they swell with pride from their wonderous adventure.
Thursday we overnight in a rest area near Talbot, Oregon.
Friday we climb out of the flat prairie into the mountains of southern Oregon and northern California. The mountains are beautiful and rekindle memories of more distant peaks. Late in the afternoon we stop for the night in a rest area with a clear view of distant Mount Shasta—thrusting up from the brown landscape, its gray pinnacles touched with snow--impressive and a nice view from the front window of the Admiral.
Saturday morning we are awakened to the blaring sound of Mariachi music. It seems that last night we parked near a Mexican coffee & breakfast place that abuts the highway. Ole.
We’ve spent the night near Weed, CA. Gotta love this state. A few miles south of Weed we pass the rest area where we spent our first night back on 6/27—talk about coming full circle. Most of the day we’re traveling familiar roads, amid familiar terrain, and through familiar urban environments. We arrive in Santa Cruz in the late afternoon and park the Admiral on the Santa Cruz Harbor. In front of us sail and power boats float on Pacific waters. We are home and happy to be home. We are home and wishing we were in the Yukon. We are home and already beginning to dream of the next adventure. We are home, and we are very happy.
9/7 Pictures
In California On I5
View Across The Trees
A Lake
Mountains In The Distance
Mt. Shasta On The Horizon
Mt. Shasta On The Horizon
Mt. Shasta Looming Closer
Mt. Shasta
Happy Anniversary—Midnight Bob
Wednesday 9/5
All night last night my concern about the passing trucks was building. We were so close to the edge of the road, and the trucks were traveling so fast, I could not erase visions of them rear-ending the sleeping Admiral. At midnight, I decided to ease my concern by putting out our reflective warning-markers. I slipped into my jeans and stepped out of the passenger side of the Admiral into the inky night. As I inched toward the rear of the RV, a truck came over the horizon and its headlights framed the startling silloutte of a man just in front of me. He was walking straight toward me and I pulled back as he reached out and said, “Man, I had a little trouble and I’m tryin’ to get home, could you spare me a Loonie or a Twonie?” Taken aback, I struggled for a response and finally stuttered, “No…sorry…can’t help you…got no Canadian coins…good luck”. “Aw…man”, he answered, “You sure?”. “Yeah”, I answer lamely, half expecting him to produce a gun or knife, but instead he mumbles something unintelligible, turns around and starts walking across the road. We are parked up-road from a couple of sleeping vans, and quite a few trucks have been passing by, but otherwise we are in the boonies (not to be confused with “loonies” although at this point I’m not all together certain that this guy isn’t one). He’s walking across the highway, but maybe he’s really in trouble or maybe he’ll find a way to make trouble, so I call out, “HEY, wait a minute, maybe I can give you some American money.” He starts back and I go into the Admiral and find a few dollars, which I hand to him. “Only six bucks. Hope that helps out.” “MAN”, he says, “THANKS! My name’s Bob.” Without further ado, he turns and disappears into the night. He becomes then, now, and forever: “Midnight Bob”.
Despite my late and eventful night, we are up early. Today is our 43rd Wedding Anniversary. Congratulations Nancy & Brian! Extra-Special, Double-Duty Congratulations to Nancy who has managed to put up with me for two score and three.
With the trucks and Midnight Bob, last night was not one of our best. When I go out to pick up the reflective warning triangles from the rear of the Admiral, I discover that in the haste and confusion, I set them up incorrectly and they’ve all fallen over.
It’s sunny, in the 60’s, and warming up. We’re just a few miles out of 100 Mile House so soon we’re at the lake where we anticipate some good birding. It is not to be. The lake, which is really more like a big pond, has partially dried up and the remaining water is covered in thick pond scum. There are a few common ducks plowing through this muck, but no new species.
Back in the Admiral we discuss the possibility of a side trip and quickly agree that the bubble has burst—let’s just get on down the road as quickly as possible.
As you’ve probably been able to discern, in this section of the road many places are named or associated with miles ala the town of “100 Mile House”. We passed through these places on the way up, but never really paid attention to the locus from which these miles are measured. Now this becomes important to us because we want to stop at “Mile 43” and take an anniversary picture. We research our guide books and determine that the “miles” were measured from a roadhouse near Lilooet that originally was the starting point of a stage line that ran to Prince George. The roadhouse no longer exists, and the route has been slightly altered many times—so it makes finding the exact “Mile 43” impossible, but we pick a point that makes sense relative to the other known locations. There we take our anniversary picture. We’ve been lucky enough that we’ve had anniversaries on the Amazon and in the Galapagos. This one is special. It’s our first anniversary since retirement. This has been a spectacular trip. And, the fact that we’ve been able to live very happily in the cramped quarters of the Admiral for more than two months is profound evidence that 43 years ago we each found the right person with whom to share the rest of our lives.
Though we are now retracing our exact route from earlier in the summer and the dramatic landscape in which we find ourselves is vaguely familiar, we see it from a different perspective—both physically since we’re traveling south, and intellectually since we’ve seen the land beyond. This country, where we are paralleling the Fraser and Thompson Rivers is gorgeous—some green and some that reminds us of the desert badlands of southern Utah.
At Cache Creek the road forks. We’re take the less-traveled, slower, more scenic spur that was our original route. We’re back in the craggy canyon that was so electrifying on our way north. 10 weeks later it is no less dramatic. Though we’re sure we have hundreds of earlier pictures, we cannot resist frequent stops to take more. This is our last day in British Columbia and the finale lives up to our highest expectations.
As we near the Canadian border, the narrow, north-south spur we’ve been on bursts from the mountains and merges with Canada 1—four lanes of east-west concrete evidence that we’re back. Amazing! Three days, 72 hours ago, we were in Hyder with bears and glaciers and shrews—now we’re at the functional end of the trip. Oh, my.
We pass Bridal Veil Falls where we hiked in June. It is remarkably puny in comparison to the falls we’ve seen in the north. We make our last gas stop in Canada to use up our remaining Loonies and Twonies. We pay the equivalent of $4.19/gallon—the least we’ve ever paid in Canada. Later in the day, we fill up in the USA for less than $3/gallon—but not without a little “adventure”. In heavy traffic we pull into a station and position ourselves near the pumps. When it’s our turn and we approach the pumps we realize the Admiral is too tall to fit under the canopy. Because of CJ, we cannot back up the Admiral, so we’re forced to disengage the Jeep and back out of tight quarters.
We’re back in the USA. Beatles anyone?
Back in the US of A.
Is this not our lucky day? Oy?
Back in the US of A.
At the border the agent asks us if we’re “bringing anything of value back from Canada”. We say, “no”, but as we pull away from the checkpoint we know that we’re returning with priceless memories—is there a duty on memories? We hope not.
It’s been a long day of driving. We’ve covered over 300 miles and traveled in two countries. There are no rest areas near our route so we spend the night in the parking lot of a Costco in Burlington, WA.
All night last night my concern about the passing trucks was building. We were so close to the edge of the road, and the trucks were traveling so fast, I could not erase visions of them rear-ending the sleeping Admiral. At midnight, I decided to ease my concern by putting out our reflective warning-markers. I slipped into my jeans and stepped out of the passenger side of the Admiral into the inky night. As I inched toward the rear of the RV, a truck came over the horizon and its headlights framed the startling silloutte of a man just in front of me. He was walking straight toward me and I pulled back as he reached out and said, “Man, I had a little trouble and I’m tryin’ to get home, could you spare me a Loonie or a Twonie?” Taken aback, I struggled for a response and finally stuttered, “No…sorry…can’t help you…got no Canadian coins…good luck”. “Aw…man”, he answered, “You sure?”. “Yeah”, I answer lamely, half expecting him to produce a gun or knife, but instead he mumbles something unintelligible, turns around and starts walking across the road. We are parked up-road from a couple of sleeping vans, and quite a few trucks have been passing by, but otherwise we are in the boonies (not to be confused with “loonies” although at this point I’m not all together certain that this guy isn’t one). He’s walking across the highway, but maybe he’s really in trouble or maybe he’ll find a way to make trouble, so I call out, “HEY, wait a minute, maybe I can give you some American money.” He starts back and I go into the Admiral and find a few dollars, which I hand to him. “Only six bucks. Hope that helps out.” “MAN”, he says, “THANKS! My name’s Bob.” Without further ado, he turns and disappears into the night. He becomes then, now, and forever: “Midnight Bob”.
Despite my late and eventful night, we are up early. Today is our 43rd Wedding Anniversary. Congratulations Nancy & Brian! Extra-Special, Double-Duty Congratulations to Nancy who has managed to put up with me for two score and three.
With the trucks and Midnight Bob, last night was not one of our best. When I go out to pick up the reflective warning triangles from the rear of the Admiral, I discover that in the haste and confusion, I set them up incorrectly and they’ve all fallen over.
It’s sunny, in the 60’s, and warming up. We’re just a few miles out of 100 Mile House so soon we’re at the lake where we anticipate some good birding. It is not to be. The lake, which is really more like a big pond, has partially dried up and the remaining water is covered in thick pond scum. There are a few common ducks plowing through this muck, but no new species.
Back in the Admiral we discuss the possibility of a side trip and quickly agree that the bubble has burst—let’s just get on down the road as quickly as possible.
As you’ve probably been able to discern, in this section of the road many places are named or associated with miles ala the town of “100 Mile House”. We passed through these places on the way up, but never really paid attention to the locus from which these miles are measured. Now this becomes important to us because we want to stop at “Mile 43” and take an anniversary picture. We research our guide books and determine that the “miles” were measured from a roadhouse near Lilooet that originally was the starting point of a stage line that ran to Prince George. The roadhouse no longer exists, and the route has been slightly altered many times—so it makes finding the exact “Mile 43” impossible, but we pick a point that makes sense relative to the other known locations. There we take our anniversary picture. We’ve been lucky enough that we’ve had anniversaries on the Amazon and in the Galapagos. This one is special. It’s our first anniversary since retirement. This has been a spectacular trip. And, the fact that we’ve been able to live very happily in the cramped quarters of the Admiral for more than two months is profound evidence that 43 years ago we each found the right person with whom to share the rest of our lives.
Though we are now retracing our exact route from earlier in the summer and the dramatic landscape in which we find ourselves is vaguely familiar, we see it from a different perspective—both physically since we’re traveling south, and intellectually since we’ve seen the land beyond. This country, where we are paralleling the Fraser and Thompson Rivers is gorgeous—some green and some that reminds us of the desert badlands of southern Utah.
At Cache Creek the road forks. We’re take the less-traveled, slower, more scenic spur that was our original route. We’re back in the craggy canyon that was so electrifying on our way north. 10 weeks later it is no less dramatic. Though we’re sure we have hundreds of earlier pictures, we cannot resist frequent stops to take more. This is our last day in British Columbia and the finale lives up to our highest expectations.
As we near the Canadian border, the narrow, north-south spur we’ve been on bursts from the mountains and merges with Canada 1—four lanes of east-west concrete evidence that we’re back. Amazing! Three days, 72 hours ago, we were in Hyder with bears and glaciers and shrews—now we’re at the functional end of the trip. Oh, my.
We pass Bridal Veil Falls where we hiked in June. It is remarkably puny in comparison to the falls we’ve seen in the north. We make our last gas stop in Canada to use up our remaining Loonies and Twonies. We pay the equivalent of $4.19/gallon—the least we’ve ever paid in Canada. Later in the day, we fill up in the USA for less than $3/gallon—but not without a little “adventure”. In heavy traffic we pull into a station and position ourselves near the pumps. When it’s our turn and we approach the pumps we realize the Admiral is too tall to fit under the canopy. Because of CJ, we cannot back up the Admiral, so we’re forced to disengage the Jeep and back out of tight quarters.
We’re back in the USA. Beatles anyone?
Back in the US of A.
Is this not our lucky day? Oy?
Back in the US of A.
At the border the agent asks us if we’re “bringing anything of value back from Canada”. We say, “no”, but as we pull away from the checkpoint we know that we’re returning with priceless memories—is there a duty on memories? We hope not.
It’s been a long day of driving. We’ve covered over 300 miles and traveled in two countries. There are no rest areas near our route so we spend the night in the parking lot of a Costco in Burlington, WA.
9/5 Pictures
Romantic And Exotic "Dave's RV Park"
Cattail At 100 Mile House Lake--Better Than The Birds
A Few Birds In The Goo
Thistle And Thatle
Interesting Topography At Mile 43
Nancy And Brian At Historic Mile 43
The Last Beautiful Canadian Lake?
The Last Beautiful Canadian Lake?
Spectacularly Desolate
Red Hills
Red Hills
Empty Landscape
Lonesome Pines
Lonesome Pines
Beetle Invested Pines
Blank Hillsides
Blank Hillsides
The Fraser River
A Northbound Train Across The River
Same Train
Cool Church
The SAME Train
The SAME Train
Coursing Fraser With Tracks On Either Side
Delapidated House With Red And Blue
Delapidated House With Red And Blue
The Longest Tunnel Of The Day
More Of The Fraser
Note The Train Tunnel On The Far Bank
Note The Train Tunnel On The Far Bank
Delightful Dave’s
Tuesday 9/4
We're coaxed awake by rays of sunshine poking into the Admiral. It’s a beautifully bright sunny day! Nancy heads out to do laundry and she comes back ebullient—the washers and dryers are immaculate, they work flawlessly, and there is no vermin in the laundry room! Meanwhile, I am flushed with felicity—we have super-high-speed wireless internet connectivity! Dave’s RV Park turns out to be the best commercial place we’ve stayed. Dave’s has ALL the amenities including putt-putt golf, a croquet court, and an English Garden overflowing with autumn blooms.
At 12:30 we reluctantly leave Dave and his lovely wife Davette. We’re on the road with a mission. Our goal is the town of 100 Mile House—260 miles from here. We stopped in this town on the way north to watch birds at the city lake and were able to add several new species to our life list. Now, during the fall migration, we expect we’ll add some more. Near 100 Mile House, there’s also a possible side trip that would take us to a series of lakes where we might be able to raft and fish.
First we drive to and through Prince George—the dominant and “capital” city of northern British Columbia. In Prince George we turn straight south and begin retracing our route from earlier in the summer. Frankly, the scenery isn’t much better than yesterday but our spirits are better. Maybe it’s the sunshine, but I also think yesterday was a cold-turkey return to civilization, and now that we know we’re in the final lap, we’re beginning to focus on getting home to the kids and grandkids.
We do our first meaningful look back at the miles we’ve traveled. We’ve racked up over 6,000 on the Admiral and when we get home the total will be over 8K. More surprisingly, we’ve driven CJ almost 3,000 miles! We’re reminiscing about the great places we’ve seen, the scores of bears and moose and other animals. We’re also remembering the incredible scenery and the great discoveries. We recall the first moose, the first black bear, the first caribou, the first fish we landed, the plane crash, the Dempster Highway, the first Grizzly, the awesome empty mountains, the night in the foggy rain, the first glacier, the many glaciers, the trip to Kodiak, the salmon, the BIG bears, the days and nights alone, Denali, Haines, Skagway, and just a few days ago, Stewart & Hyder…so many incredible experiences. We’re feeling warm and fuzzy in the blanket of our memories.
As we near 100 Mile House, we’re finding it difficult to locate a suitable turn-out where we can spend the night. Finally we decide to join a bunch of trucks parked at the side of the road next to a small lake—there are a bunch of ducks in the lake, but we’ll work on identifying them tomorrow. Tonight we’re more worried about the many high-speed trucks that are passing by--as they pass, the Admiral shudders in the roar. It could be a long night.
One final thing—trust me, it will be important. Canadians have a nickname for their $1 coin. The coin has a loon (bird) on one side and it’s come to be known as a “Loonie”. Takes a while to get used to being asked for a “Loonie” or told that something is affordable because it’s “less than a Loonie”. They also have a $2 coin. Frankly I have no idea what images are on it, but, you guessed it, they call it a “Twonie”.
We're coaxed awake by rays of sunshine poking into the Admiral. It’s a beautifully bright sunny day! Nancy heads out to do laundry and she comes back ebullient—the washers and dryers are immaculate, they work flawlessly, and there is no vermin in the laundry room! Meanwhile, I am flushed with felicity—we have super-high-speed wireless internet connectivity! Dave’s RV Park turns out to be the best commercial place we’ve stayed. Dave’s has ALL the amenities including putt-putt golf, a croquet court, and an English Garden overflowing with autumn blooms.
At 12:30 we reluctantly leave Dave and his lovely wife Davette. We’re on the road with a mission. Our goal is the town of 100 Mile House—260 miles from here. We stopped in this town on the way north to watch birds at the city lake and were able to add several new species to our life list. Now, during the fall migration, we expect we’ll add some more. Near 100 Mile House, there’s also a possible side trip that would take us to a series of lakes where we might be able to raft and fish.
First we drive to and through Prince George—the dominant and “capital” city of northern British Columbia. In Prince George we turn straight south and begin retracing our route from earlier in the summer. Frankly, the scenery isn’t much better than yesterday but our spirits are better. Maybe it’s the sunshine, but I also think yesterday was a cold-turkey return to civilization, and now that we know we’re in the final lap, we’re beginning to focus on getting home to the kids and grandkids.
We do our first meaningful look back at the miles we’ve traveled. We’ve racked up over 6,000 on the Admiral and when we get home the total will be over 8K. More surprisingly, we’ve driven CJ almost 3,000 miles! We’re reminiscing about the great places we’ve seen, the scores of bears and moose and other animals. We’re also remembering the incredible scenery and the great discoveries. We recall the first moose, the first black bear, the first caribou, the first fish we landed, the plane crash, the Dempster Highway, the first Grizzly, the awesome empty mountains, the night in the foggy rain, the first glacier, the many glaciers, the trip to Kodiak, the salmon, the BIG bears, the days and nights alone, Denali, Haines, Skagway, and just a few days ago, Stewart & Hyder…so many incredible experiences. We’re feeling warm and fuzzy in the blanket of our memories.
As we near 100 Mile House, we’re finding it difficult to locate a suitable turn-out where we can spend the night. Finally we decide to join a bunch of trucks parked at the side of the road next to a small lake—there are a bunch of ducks in the lake, but we’ll work on identifying them tomorrow. Tonight we’re more worried about the many high-speed trucks that are passing by--as they pass, the Admiral shudders in the roar. It could be a long night.
One final thing—trust me, it will be important. Canadians have a nickname for their $1 coin. The coin has a loon (bird) on one side and it’s come to be known as a “Loonie”. Takes a while to get used to being asked for a “Loonie” or told that something is affordable because it’s “less than a Loonie”. They also have a $2 coin. Frankly I have no idea what images are on it, but, you guessed it, they call it a “Twonie”.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)