Saturday 7/7:
We were awakened this morning by the sound of truck horns. On the surface, not exactly the stuff of wilderness adventure, but as we learned later, trucks coming down the mountain lay on their horns to scare the animals off the road. Today was a “jobs” day. We changed the oil on the RV, and fabricated a “bra” for the Cheap Jeep. We made the “bra” out of clear vinyl to protect the windshield, hood, and front end of the Jeep. Yesterday as we were driving the gravel sections of the highway the need for the bra became obvious. I also tried to learn more about my digital camera. I’ve got a great new zoom lens, but the pictures aren’t up to par, so I’m working on setting the parameters so that I get better pictures. And, I was able to test my new Marlin 357 rifle. It goes BOOM, but the tree trunk that was my target was unscathed. I’ll need more practice if I’m going to defend us against attacking Brown Bears.
It rained intermittently today. Between rains we took a brief hike up the river. Very nice. Found more scat; maybe a black bear, also a sheep or caribou.
Left our Tetsa River campsite at about 3PM and headed toward Muncho Lake where we hope to spend a couple of nights. The road continues to degenerate, narrower, and more twisty-turny. It’s cloudy and cool. Our average MPG declines to less than 5 for the first time on the trip. It occurs to me that we may be spending more per mile to drive the Highway than was originally spent to build it. Not true of course, but at $5/gallon and 5 MPG, we are spending a buck a mile just for gas!
We’re eagerly anticipating the wildlife that the Tennessee guy said we’d encounter and we are not disappointed. As we ascend toward the east-to-west pass in the Rockies, we encounter caribou (mistakenly identified as moose by the Tennessee guy) and then Stone Sheep (look more like mountain goats than sheep), in the middle of the road just as promised. We took billions of photographs. Frequently we had to stop right in the middle of the road to shoot our pictures. This is not popular with the truck drivers.
The mountains around us are incredibly beautiful. We have never experienced anything better (not exactly a superlative). We’re now following the Toad River. The Toad is endless white water in a river of turquoise. Inappropriately named (unless you are a toadologist) as it is stunning and does not give one warts. We come to a sign announcing a view point ahead. This is unusual as every point ahead offers a view. Not unlike one’s first drive along the Pacific in northern California where you stop at every turn to marvel at the sight ahead. There are a couple of cars parked at the view point, but as we approach, we see that they are not looking at the scenery but rather at a very large moose that’s standing at the side of the road. More billions of pictures. This moose, like the caribou and sheep we saw earlier, is savoring the salt in the road left from winter. At one point, the moose falls to his knees to lap up some briny soup. Looks a little like he’s praying. We wonder for what moose (meese) pray. Meesettes?
Still in the mountains, we turn north and come to Muncho Lake which fills an eight mile notch between two mountains. It also is turquoise, colored by copper sulfate. The highway here runs right next to the eastern edge of the lake, and we find a nice spot to park the Admiral, a view of the mountains and lake out of our living slider room and the front windshield. Before bedtime (its only about 9PM), we walk a quarter mile north to the Northern Rockies Lodge and RV Park. There are only a dozen or so RV sites and most are packed in like sardines. We marvel at this. There are endless opportunities to park in relative solitude along the AKH, and yet most people chose to live in a transient city. Remarkable. At the lodge we meet MIP 7, a 20 something young lady from Switzerland who has decided to spend a year living and working at Muncho Lake (population 29 or less). She is delightfully sarcastic and helps us buy a calling card so that we can communicate with the outside world and me select a new hat. My “Fred’s Fishing” hat is retired, and my Northern Rockies Lodge hat becomes the chapeau de jour. We also retire, but before we do, we see the Hopscotch Guy speed by.
