Tuesday 7-24
As promised, some more info on our current campsite, the Tonsina River Lodge. The place was hit by a big flood last October when they had a snow storm, followed by a sudden thaw, and the Tonsina River overflowed its banks. Nearly wiped these folks off the map. They built a dike around the main lodge, but the out buildings and the RV sites were badly damaged. Lots of tumbled rocks in all around us, but we do have water and power. As for the lodge, they are locally famous for their Mexican cuisine (the “Mexican” part, not the “cuisine” part) and the fact that they have over 30 different brands of tequila available in the bar. This summer a platoon of electricians is occupying most of the RV sites. These guys are doing work for the state, county, and individuals in the area. Like all things construction in this part of the world, they have only 4 or 5 months to get stuff done—so in the summer things are teeming. These guys are also making an heroic effort to raise the bar on the number of different brands of tequila shots hoisted in a single evening.
We spent today on the McCarthy/Kennecott Road—the other access to the Wrangell/St. Elias National Park. It’s a 60-mile dirt & gravel road that starts at the little town of Chitna (35 paved miles from the main road). As far as we can tell, Chitna exists so there can be an end to the pavement and a beginning to the dirt.
As you leave Chitna, you go through an ominous, narrow passageway cut through a high wall of solid rock. Today there was a brisk wind pumping thick fog through the notch—it was other-worldly, like we were moving into a different plane of being. On the other side, no alternate plane of being, but it was other-worldly as we emerged into the broad Copper River valley with its silvery-gray canyon walls, gray rock bed, and grayish-blue, silt-laden water. We also came to a bridge that we thought might be Sen. Ted Stephens oft’ derided “Bridge To Nowhere”. It turns out the bridge over the Copper River is not that “bridge to nowhere”, but it’s certainly a high-end bridge for a low-end road. At one end of the bridge, Chitna—at the other end the road turns to dirt. On the dirt end of the bridge is the national park (an admirable destination) and a few hundred constituents (Sen. Stephens has a history of being good to constituents). Could it be that Sen. Stephens is the “Real Nowhere Man”? Beatles me.
As we cross the bridge, we see an extensive array of odd machines along the far bank. These machines look like weird water wheels slowly revolving in the current. We quickly deduce that these are salmon fishing machines. Each appears to be uniquely contrived, but all include 2 or more boxy-metal weirs driven by paddles. These “nets” rotate through the river with the obvious intent to capture fish. As each net approaches its apogee, fish slide out of the rotating net into a central holding area. Ingenious and the kind of machine I might invent if I were harvesting salmon. Today it is clear that the salmon are not yet running as the nets fruitlessly orbit, dipping and dripping, but finding no quarry.
Speaking of quarry, or rather quarry, the Copper River gets its name from, you guessed it…copper. Early in the 20th century some geologists were surveying this area and saw a green patch off in the distance that appeared to be a large meadow—perfect spot for their campground--so they made their way through the forest and discovered, not a meadow, but a huge expanse of copper ore. One thing led to another and ultimately Kennecott Mining Company was tapping into the richest copper vein in the Americas. The vein ran out in 1930’s and the mine’s been closed since, but the road remains to provide access to the park.
Beyond the bridge, the road turns ugly. It’s very rough and very, very dusty. On the one hand, wish we had some of the rain we’ve experienced over the past few days to dampen the road and diminish the dust; on the other hand, we’re happy that we’re not traveling this road in the mud.
After the first few miles (where we had views into the Copper River valley) the scenery along this road was not as dramatic as that along the Nabesna Road yesterday. The scenery would be a “world class” destination in Ohio, but here, it’s substandard. Frankly we were disappointed. Crappy road. Average scenery. No big animals.
But, things got better. First, we came to the Kuskulana River Bridge. This baby spans a V—E—R—Y deep gorge. It’s one very narrow lane. Paved with planks. It’s old and rusty. We loved it.
It’s a bunny day in the park. We see many snowshoes.
I fish fruitlessly in Long Lake which is truly long and very pretty.
We see several beaver lodges but no beavers. Where is Jerry Mathers when you really need him?
There are many ponds with birds.
We pass “Rock City” where there are a score or so rock edifices. Are these mini-temples for some local deity?
We get introduced to glaciers! Wrangell/St. Elias has more glaciers than any other park in the world. There are 8,300 square miles of ice fields (bigger than New Hampshire) and one glacier, Malaspina, is 1,500 square miles (bigger than…).
We get only glimpses of the glaciers until we arrive in McCarthy (named after either Charlie or Joseph we don’t know which, but we have a preference).
In McCarthy, the Kennecott Glacier leaps into view (a figure of speech) on our left…very clearly a glacier and very dramatic.
There is an anomalous roadside stand across from the glacier. It’s about 10’ square with an adjoining outdoor dining area. There are a half dozen tables with red & white checkered table clothes, umbrellas, one neighborhood dog hoping for accidents of gastronomy, but no other customers. We peruse the menu…pass on the fois gras…ponder the crème brulee…and finally decide on the ice cream bars in unmarked white wrappers—a symbolic tribute to the majestic glacier on the horizon.
Early evening is already upon us and the return trip on the wretched road will be arduous, so we forego a hike to the glacier face and start “home”.Tonight, our second and final night at the Tosina River Lodge—home of the increasingly famous “Karaoke Electricians”.
