Denali National Park to Talkeetna via the Alaska Scenic Railroad

Day 5--Tuesday, July 23, 2002, 15.59 

It has been cold the past two nights—my little zipper thermometer says that it is 39F right now (6:30 a.m.)—but sunny and mild to warm during the day. Our incredible weather luck is holding, so far.

We have a short day scheduled for today—13 downhill miles out of the park and then 28 to Cantwell. However, we're going to see if we can catch the scenic train on the Alaska Railroad from here to Talkeetna and our Montana Creek CG. This because my cold is very heavy, but mostly because we decided that this train ride would make up for the Skunk train ride from Ft. Bragg to Willits, CA that we missed two years ago because of Jessica's accident. [In 2002 Jess and I cycled the west coast from Vancouver to California. Jess took a nasty spill on the Leggett Hill descent, so our cycle ended in the Fort Bragg ER rather than Jess's home in Inverness, CA.]

We're also shipping back to our motel in Fairbanks some duplicate gear: multipurpose tool, knife, Jess's little tent, tent pegs, some cookware, clothes and the like. We're having to do too much talking to our BOBs to get them to climb hills. Da bums don't even want to descend hills with the headwind we've been experiencing.

After breakfast Jess and I had the sweetest 13.9 miles so far. Despite a crosswind, we sailed down to the train station, sometimes reaching 38 mph.    Not a single vehicle passed us on the way down. Most of the time the curves were sweeping, making it easy to soar with little braking.

The train station didn't open until 10, and it was 9:15 when we reached it, so Jess left her stuff with me, biked the additional mile to the Visitor's Center, mailed our extra stookey to the Super 8 in Fairbanks, bought us sandwiches, and kept in touch with me via walkie-talkie to see how I made out getting tickets.

And now . . . we're in Car B on the Alaska Railroad Denali line bound for Talkeetna. Yes, the train took us and our bikes and even departed at a perfect time—12 noon. It will take 4.5 hours to get to Talkeetna, which is a jumping off place for Denali climbers.

(Those of you plugged into our itinerary will realize that we have just cut from our planned itinerary 2.5 days and stops at Cantwell and Breyer's Lake. Since Talkeetna is 14 miles off the Parks Hwy, we camped in it rather than going the additional 17.25 miles to Montana Creek CG as planned. We will catch up to our schedule again in Palmer. In the meantime follow along as we improvise.)

This train ride is described as one of the most beautiful in the world, and it's the most magnificent I've ever experienced. The scenery, as it has been all along is awe-inspiring.

The two white cars on the train are owned by the Princess Line; tourists take a combined cruise/train ride. Other tour groups and cruise lines also have their own train cars and buses in addition to the cruise ships.

Stream filled with glacial flour

The train has a bistro and a dining car and a gift shop. They take dinner reservations and offer you a selection of reading matter—not that I could read anything for fear of missing something out the window. The streams and rivers that are not glacial (filled with glacial flour—rock silt ground off by the movement of the glacier) are so clear that Jess saw a large salmon in one from the moving train.

The tour guide for our car is named CJ, He points out the names of peaks and rivers and valleys and gives us bits of history and geology. A couple of young kids came through and sang patriotic songs about America. We've been sitting "up on the roof" in the observation car just trying to take in the stunning size and majesty of the landscape.

Later: Jess is writing postcards and drinking an Alaska Amber. I am writing this, of course, and sipping a Bailey's and coffee to try to sooth my screechingly sore throat. My cold has declared war and so far, it's winning. Trying to strangle and smother me to death, I think.

I have a screeching, hurts-to-swallow sore throat so look pretty somber in this photo

Jess enjoying the ride and the chance to catch up on her correspondence

In Talkeetna:

Our campground here is a pretty sad affair on the edge of Talkeetna and near the Susitana River but in an old dusty grove of cottonwoods and willows. There are two Porta Potties at the edge of the site and no running water. The RV's outnumber the tent campers by far. But there are several groups of youngish climber types camped here in tents, too.

Jess priming the little camp stove preparatory to putting together dinner in our soggy camp site

A happy Jess talking to a friend back home

We took showers and did our laundry behind a small grocery, and then walked through this tiny town with its flightseeing, fishing, hunting, hang gliding, kayaking, mountain biking, mountain climbing businesses. Jess, poor dear, is ready for some music and young people at the end of the day, so we stopped at a pub and had some halibut fingers and a beer. Most of the young guys from our campsite were there. Just as we left, it began to rain gently.

Talkeetna

Day 6--Tuesday, July 24, 2002

Yes we are at a standstill. It's pouring, I'm still battling this horrible cold, I have no voice at all (even my cough is silent), and I'm fighting the self pity and depression that come with being sick.

Several of you have asked questions in your e-mails, so let me try to answer some in this "down" period:

1.   Yes, we found gas for the stove, but the only gas available was in a gallon can, so after filling the stove and the fuel bottle, we gave the remaining half can to the campground host rather than burdening BOB with it.

2.   Except for our night in Nenana on the motel lawn, the mosquitoes really have not been a problem. We burn a mosquito coil on the picnic table and use repellent when necessary. Oddly, in the cottonwood grove here, we are plagued with what I assume are red spider mites. Never knew they could bite, but one bit me on the back of my hand last night.

3.   A good time to ask about the progress of the Midnight Ultra Challenge (not the Wheelchair Olympics as I think I called it before). The whole contingent and their support crews were in town early this a.m. and started the day's race off to the sound of a starter's gun right in front of Jess and me who were sitting on stools looking out the window of the Roadhouse, a little bakery/cafe/hostel while we ate breakfast. There are 15 of them—13 men and 2 women—from around the world. Their equipment is marvelous and sleek. One racer was a double amputee and it appeared as though he was spared only his upper body— really did not look as though he even had any rear. I wanted so badly to talk bikes with and congratulate these racers (and talk birds with a guy in the Roadhouse), but I have NO VOICE! Maybe if I shout a little on this machine, it will help.

It's very frustrating, though Jess is probably enjoying the rest her ears get. I know she is enjoying mothering, fussing, and bossing me into good health. "Mother you WILL get in the tent and rest." By the way, that reminds me. Jess has again cut out reflective "Mutha" and "Dauta" ID's for our helmets. The only place for mine is on my visor. Jess's fits on the back of her helmet.

At 2 p.m., after looking in all the little stores and gift shops (which contain soft, wonderful fur hats and gloves that I covet), I got in to see Dr Yeats, the only physician between Fairbanks and Palmer/Anchorage. For a mere $139 dollars he gave me a shot in the rump for my laryngitis, some antibiotic for my pharyngitis, and some heavy-duty cough syrup/decongestant for my cough and congestion. Told me I should be able to find my voice in 8 hours (tomorrow!) and that I should be feeling better in 3 days.

Jess fixed me a cozy nest in the tent and here I am. Tomorrow, come hell or high water, we're off to cover at least half of the distance from here to Palmer.

P.S. Forgot to tell you that last night, Jess's beer was labeled Moose Drool. A lot of the kitschy tourist stuff consists of something moosey, particularly moose droppings. They paint the droppings—which are smallish and oval—gold, and silver, give them human characteristics and faces, attach them to trinkets and key chains, and even have a Moose Dropping Festival.

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.

Willow Creek CG to Palmer

Day 8--Friday, July 26, 2002, 45.58 miles

Before I begin the Day 8 account, I must catch you up on a few things that happened last evening.

First, Jess decided that it was too blustery for campground cooking so we walked the bridge across Willow Creek to the Willow Creek Lodge on the other side and had halibut for supper. This restaurant—like nearly all in Alaska was stuffed with stuffed animal heads, including . . . are you ready for this? . . . a giraffe. (These are common above the tree line in Alaska, I'm told.) Not just the head but the long neck and shoulders, too. Cracked us up, and we had to take a photo. Jess nearly had to lie on the floor to get both me and the giraffe in the same frame, and she still couldn’t quite stuff us both in.

While eating, we could look out at Willow Creek and a couple of guys filleting red (sockeye) salmon and throwing the chum to the gulls. After dinner we went over to ask about their catch and to take a photo of them. They insisted that we take a fillet for breakfast.

Got back to our campsite wondering how we would keep the filet cold and the bears away until morning. The problem was solved when Richard and Marianne, from Boulder, CO, and dog Lulu, invited us over to sit around their campfire and have a piece of pecan pie. They had no refrigerator but put the filet in their cooler.

Hundreds of rabbits here. Blackie wasn't using our firepit as a litter box. Turns out he likes to sleep in it.

Signs seen on the road today:

• "Best Little Hair House in Alaska"

• "Road Maintained by The Dog Team Touring Association"

We have fixed up our BOBs with duct tape to hold the fuel bottle and our extra water and mugs on rear platforms near the wheel. With a rail, the BOB people could easily modify these spaces to hold such things.

We had a dangerous situation yesterday: a semi passed me and just missed hitting me with an unsecured load strap that was flying off the side. I came to a screeching halt and radioed Jess, who was ahead, to get off the road. Even so, she reported that it was a close call.

The truck stopped ahead of her and when she caught up to it she told the driver about the flying straps and also about the courtesy of swinging out and around cyclists when possible. Most drivers have been very courteous, and give us plenty of room.

Started to rain shortly after we went to bed and rained all night. Broke for a very short period in which we got up and packed and had breakfast: fresh red salmon and cream cheese rolled into a basil and dried tomato tortilla. Very delicious. Got off in a drizzling rain at 10:20. Now we are sitting in a little roadside cafe having toast and hot chocolate while the proprietor dries our rain jackets. We've pedaled only about 15 miles, 10 of that through construction and long sections of mud and gravel.

Very shortly after we stopped, we found a paved bike trail that took us another 15 or 20 miles to the other side of Wasilla and the Palmer/Wasilla Hwy. This was great as it was still raining steadily and it got us out of the spray thrown by cars and trucks.

We got to the Dan Contini Fire Station in Palmer about 3. We will be staying with Chief Dan and his wife Lalle tonight and then going in to Anchorage to spend two nights at their daughter Danette's house. Dan is our Alaska IFSTA Distributor and he and Lalle are the warmest most hospitable people on earth. Their house is a mecca for many OSU School of Fire Protection & Safety students who come up to work the north slope oil companies. I stayed with Dan & Lalle 10 years ago or so when I was up here on business.

At the station we cleaned our filthy bikes and trailers and spread our tent and fly and ground cloth in the apparatus bay to dry. Then Dan loaded our BOB bags and drove us up to his home at the foot of Lazy Mountain. Two of Dan and Lalle's five children came with their dogs and children to celebrate Dan's birthday, which just happened to coincide with our arrival day.

After we finished eating (demolishing a coconut cream pie daughter, Danette, had brought from Anchorage, plus a sheet cake from the guys at the firehouse) Jess and I were down for the count in our first bed in a week. Deliciously comfy.

Palmer Rest Day

Day 9--Saturday, July 27, 2002, rest day

Before we went to bed last night, Dan took us on a tour of Palmer, a cozy valley farming community that hosts the Alaska State Fair in August. At the fair one can marvel over the HUGE vegetables produced in this fertile valley with its long hours of sunlight: We were told that the prize cabbage last year weighed 110 pounds and yielded coleslaw for all the members of a Chicago convention. This valley is akin to the Napa Valley of CA as it supplies nearly 100 percent of Alaska's fresh produce.

We saw the airport managed by Dan, and picked out which of the many small planes we'd like to have. We went out to the fire training ground and saw the smokehouse and tower. Dan's a member of the school board, so we toured past Palmer's public schools. Lalle's parents homesteaded here back in the early 30's, so we took a look at what had once been their 500 acres and was now a housing development. We went up high on the bluffs above the Knik River to see it and, in the distance, the Knik Glacier that produces it. This is a beautiful, beautiful valley ringed with mountains.

Susan, Lalle Contini, Jess, and Zach, Lalle's houseguest

Dan and Lalle live just at the foot of Lazy Mountain east of Palmer. We woke the next morning and could look up to the top of Lazy Mt.—and the taller Pioneer Mt.—at fresh snowfall, something Lalle says usually does not occur for another month.

After a big breakfast of pancakes, eggs, bacon, o.j., coffee, etc., Dan took off for his cabin up near Willow Creek. Jess and I washed our clothes and then toured around Palmer with Lalle and her grandson, Danny. We visited the musk ox farm, and the reindeer farm, took our photos to a one-hour photo mart, found some Cold-Eaze and more cough syrup. (Thanks, Lois and Phil, for the Cold-Eaze tip. We found it . . . in three flavors, no less. I'll let you know how it works.)

Everyone decided that the best course of action was to go to Anchorage today (Sat.) by car so that we could spend two days in Anchorage. We want to go to REI to get some spray waterproofing for our fly, which is leaking a little, and to get some power bars and other supplies. And Jess is hankering for a movie or a little night life.

Right now we are at Dan & Lalle's daughter Danette's. She, a nurse, and her husband John, an airplane mechanic with the National Guard, have three show golden retrievers. Tomorrow a.m Danette & John are off early for a fishing jaunt in Seward. We will feed and exercise their dogs while they are gone. We also plan on having lunch at the Bear's Tooth where we can watch a movie while we eat.

John & Danette pulled out all the stops for this evening's dinner: tossed salad, grilled halibut, macaroni and cheese, asparagus, rosemary salt rolls. Very delicious. 

John put the dogs through their tricks before bed. They are beautiful animals.

To bed, to bed in a big puffy pillowy confection. Ahh, but life is good . . .

Anchorage, Trail Day

Day 10--Sunday, July 28, 2002, rest day

Slept in in our wonderfully comfy bed. John & Danette got off for their Seward fishing jaunt around 7 a.m.

It's a gorgeous sunny day with temps in the 70s. Showered, had coffee & toast for breakfast, and then labeled all the photos. Found we had taken many too many of trees, rivers, and mountains and too few candids of our travels.

Housing development, each house with its own float plane dock

Will mail the photos to Scott tomorrow (Mon.), and he will have them posted as soon as he can. There are a LOT of them.

Lalle and another daughter, Diane, and granddaughter, Amy, dropped off our bikes and trailers around 10. They had been stored at Dan's Palmer Fire Station since our arrival. Dan & Lalle have rallied their considerable family to see to our every need. We have been so spoiled that it will be a wake up call to return to the tent.

Soon after the bikes arrived, we rode into the city proper via the Coastal Bike Trail, a beautiful, paved trail along the bluffs of the Cook Inlet with plenty of climbs and descents.

Here's a new one"Bike on a Cheese."

When we got to the center of the city, we dropped off a roll of film at the one-hour developer, and then ate lunch at the Bear Tooth Theater Pub. After this we shopped in a couple of the many sports and outfitters stores and ended up at REI where I bought some waterproofing for the tent fly and a great little compressible Thermarest pillow. Jess bought a water bottle cage for a second bottle and a front fender for her bike. Without a fender, she gets thoroughly soaked and caked with grime when it rains.

Jess had a long talk with the guy who waited on her as he was planning a bike tour down the Alaska Hwy. He was smitten—installed the fender and cage for free and gave Jess two water bottles that open automatically when squeezed. She also bought a case of lemon Luna bars. Sports bars in roadside stores (when you can find one) can run over $2 a piece.

We returned to the Schloeder's, did a wash and waterproofed the fly and Jessica's raincoat. I took a short nap and after that we took the three blonde gals: Willow, Kasper, and Malibu for a walk through an upscale area around a lake where many of the homes have pontoon planes tied up at lakeside. Walking three large dogs—two of them on one lead—is no small undertaking. I was hot and panting louder than the dogs when we returned.

 

Packed up for tomorrow's getaway—Anchorage to Portage—and then weighed my gear for the first time: 54 pounds. That a lot of stookey. I have picked up a green-eyed yellow-haired troll doll with a gem in its navel and a plastic dinosaur. BOB's carrying both. Jess has slapped interesting rocks and sticks out of my hands before I could tuck them onto BOB, and I know I will have a hard time when I get to Homer. The Homer Spit is covered with black stones rounded to perfection.

Anchorage to Bear Creek CG

Day 11--Monday, July 29, 2002, 57.42 miles

We got packed and off by 10. Hated to leave the comfort and convenience of the Schloeder's. They and their siblings and parents were the quintessential hosts.

The tunnel under Minnesota Street

Anchorage is VERY bicycle friendly, with bike trails paralleling nearly every road. Those with no trail have wide marked bike lanes. Nonetheless, we got lost trying to get to the Old Seward Hwy. Went through the same trail tunnel under Minnesota St. (which didn't allow bikes) four times. Finally found our way and in the process found a P.O. Stopped and sent off our photos. Scott, you should have them in 4 days. Happy scanning to you!

The ride along the Turnagain Arm of the Cook Inlet was fantastic. Lots of tour buses, RV's, and tourist traffic, but a generous shoulder right of a deep rumble strip for most of the way. The road is right on the water. For the first half of the day, the Alaska RR ran parallel to the road to the right between us and the Arm. For the second half, it was on the opposite side of the road and we were right on the water. High green peaks and numerous waterfalls on our left, and across the water; and at the end of the Arm, snowy mountains and glaciers. We saw two batches of Dall sheep high on the green peaks. Searched in vain for beluga whales, which are common at high tide, but it was low tide with lots of exposed mud flats for most of our ride.

We made slow progress because we stopped so often to explore or take photos. We stopped and birded at Potter's Marsh. Two fluffy, baby mew gulls got near the road, and Jess herded them back into the water but not without having the parents dive at her screeching. There was a third "good" baby in a nest on a grassy hummock, and the wayward two eventually joined it.

We stopped at the Potter Section House Railroad Museum where I took the photo below of Jess before a giant rotary snowplow affixed to the front of a train engine.

We stopped again at Beluga Point, Rainbow Creek, Windy Point (where Dall sheep and mountain goats come to the road's edge to feed on plants and lick salt residue) and Bird Creek. The silvers were running up Bird Creek and it was lined with fishermen. We heard that Bird Creek CG was full to overflowing with anglers.

We stopped at the Girdwood Turnoff but did not cycle the 6 mile RT to Girdwood itself. Bought a breakfast sweet at the Intersection Bakery, however, on Danette's recommendation. Just before Girdwood was a stand of dead trees, killed during the 1964 earthquake when the land sunk as much as 10 feet and saltwater penetrated the soil. Girdwood was lost and had to be relocated.

The campground at mile 3 was closed, so here we are at Bear Creek CG, 4 miles up Portage Glacier Rd. No showers or running water, unfortunately, as it turned into a bright sunny day and we got hot and sticky getting here. However a previous camper left two super folding canvas chairs, so we're lounging in comfort.

Our route was possibly the easiest we will experience on this ride. If the road wasn't level, it seemed to slope gently downward.

We explored the creek behind our site after dinner, and saw much evidence of moose. Also, the campground wasn't named Black Bear for nothing, so all of our food and toiletries are now tucked into the bear locker.

It's pretty chilly right next to the snowy mountains and glacier. My zipper thermometer reads in the high 40's in the shade. Probably in the low 50s in the sun.

Well it's 9:15 and time for bed, despite the broad daylight which lasts all night, though somewhat more subdued after the sun sets.