Talkeetna to Willow Creek CG

Day 7--Thursday, July 25, 2002, 42.18 miles

We had a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee, and then packed up and left Talkeetna by 9. It was almost like starting over again, we've been off our bikes for so long.

A float plane rental cabin on our way from Talkeetna to Willow Creek

Headwinds again and the sky is low and threatening but has produced no rain yet (5 p.m.). Temps all day in the high 50's, low 60's with very brief glimpses of sun. Sorry y'all are roasting back there in OK and the east coast.

Our route today was flat to rolling and fairly relaxing, despite the RV traffic. It comes in spurts, because they are loathe to pass each other, I guess. Also on the road are truck trains 2 to 3 trucks long. These tend to suck you toward them, so I get as far right as possible when I see one coming.

When we reached the junction of the Talkeetna Spur, I stopped in to meet Yvonne & Geri, two women who  sent me a lot of information about the route, and who even had other cyclists mail me info. I didn't get to meet Geri—the more lively of the two—as she was at the airport, but Yvonne was in the little log cabin Talkeetna/Denali Visitor's Center, so we chatted.

The roadsides this much farther south are still profuse with fireweed, which is magenta and not red, and also with daisies, some plant with small bright red berry clusters that I must look up, yarrow—some of it pink—and what look to be dandelions on 1- or 2-foot stalks. Also birch and ash groves and larger trees than farther north.

Right now, I am sitting at the picnic table at our campsite right here on Willow Creek—surrounded by rabbits. You heard me, rabbits. They are large domestic types and there are five of them—two black, two golden, and one an odd combination of dark brown and gold that makes it look mangy. They are sprawled out at my feet, and unless I am mistaken, one just used our firepit for a litter box.

I walked along the river earlier. There were a handful of fishermen, one fly fishing, Jeff. I didn't see anyone catch anything, but the water is clear enough to see the large silvers swimming upstream. Some are so large that they make V's on the water's surface.

On the way here, Jess and I stopped on a bridge over Sheep Creek. A man and a boy were fishing from the north bank near the bridge. First the man caught a salmon (I took a photo of him holding up his catch—see below), and then the boy hooked one They had already caught four others. Jess tried to wheedle a small one away from them for our dinner tonight, but they weren't selling.

Speaking of dinner, it's time to get it together. Jess is in her sleeping bag in the tent, but I am outside and the temp has dropped to the fifties. It is cold enough for hat and gloves.

Speaking of cold(s), I am feeling some better. My throat is no longer sore, and my voice is nearly back, though I squeak sometimes on the high register. I tried to talk "rabbit" to one of the rabbits who was sitting up appealingly on his hind legs (Yes, he's a him. I know this for a fact.), but could come up with nothing but squeaks.

Now for supper. Tomorrow we arrive in Palmer where we will be staying with Palmer Fire Chief, Dan Contini, and his wife, Lalle. Will send an update from there.