Blog English – Arminius-on-tour

Approaching Worthington Glacier, clouds are crawling downhill. We can only see the terminal moraine and a piece of the glacier toe. You can reach this glacier that’s close to the road over a short trail, but the visibility is so bad, we skip this hike. From 816 m high Thompson Pass right after the glacier there shall be a magnificent view over mountains and woods – theoretically. The area is famous for bad weather with fog and rain and it preserves its honour. An even steep slope down to sea level brings us to Valdez. The 1287 km long oil pipeline, foundation-stone for Alaska’s prosperity, ends here. The pipe is owned by five oil companies and is said to be rotten and leaking. The parts presented to the visitor seem clean, nearly sterile. Also oil spill has disappeared completely. Major cleaning efforts and nature’s self-healing power did one last thing to wipe out the traces of the catastrophe.

In March 1989 supertanker Exxon Valdez ran aground on a reef due to a navigational error. Nearly 41 million tons crude oil escaped from the leak, more than 200 km coastline were contaminated, and uncounted animals perished. Valdez gained a profit from the disaster: Thousands of helpers had to be accommodated and fed partially for years, fishermen were generously compensated, and eventually lucrative disaster tourism established. Oil spill might be gone, tourism stayed. Fishing is the big topic in Prince William Sound and the rivers. Even amateur anglers fish huge halibuts from the sea, and from rivers others pick out Coho salmons by the kilo. Such a salmon migration is nothing for sensitive natures. At low tide fishes crowd body to body in the remaining rivulets, during the already dead ones decay. The usually pugnacious seagulls stroll around the stinky fish cemetery with filled stomachs. They first peck the eyes of the still fluttering specimen. Then they try to open the belly to get to possibly remaining eggs.

In a brook where silver scaly anteaters crowd densely a huge black bear fishes. The big specimen amble along the water, just picks up a salmon, goes ashore, lies down, takes some delicious bites, and fetches the next fish again just to nibble it. What apparent nature’s waste. But the decomposing corpses will fertilize Valdez’s cold rainforest and help to new ample growth.

On the way back all clouds of the area gather together at Thompson Pass and visibility drops to below 50 m. Glacier and Wrangell – St. Elias Mountains can only be sensed. After Glenallen we take the Tok-Cut-Off named highway back to Alaska Highway.

Back to Anchorage, we are taking Glenn highway east. Again and again there are wonderful views to Chugach Mountains. Matanuska Glacier winds for kilometres through a valley, but its retreat is visible here as well. It is only accessible through private land and 20 $ entrance fee per person – way to much for people who have seen other glaciers before. However, the view to some orange-red coloured slopes is completely free of charge. Gypsum from volcanic origin mixed with copper oxide attracts Dall sheep due to its abundance of minerals. The sheep lick on the stones. They are related to the Rocky Mountain sheep, but they do not like warmth. They always follow the snowline. There is no snow at all, but we can find them with our binoculars lying on an exposed slope high up in the mountains. They pepper the slope like white spots a fly agaric.

The road ascends very slowly to the 1013 m high Eureka Pass and descends as gentle on the other side. A little black bear is getting a freight from our big tyres and is jumping off the road. On Glenn highway east you directly face Wrangell – St. Elias Mountains. Several times we can catch dramatic views to the 5000 m high snow-covered mountains lightened up with sunlight. In Glenallen we are heading south into another blind alley. Richardson Highway escorts Trans-Alaska-Pipeline to Valdez at Prince William Sound.  Temperature dropped from 25°C only two degrees, but the initially warm wind gets ice cold soon, and we are expecting a weather change.

Who ever wrote about instable weather in Kenai Peninsula must have been wrong. Since one week there are dependable 13° C, constant drizzling rain and patchy fog. From far we can’t see the glacier even today, but on the easy 5-km-roundwalk you get to the glacier toe. Signs with years on them document the dramatic glacier retreat. A glacier consists of fluffy snowflakes at the surface that become thicker further down, gradually thickening to firn and finally, when nearly all air is extruded due to the weight of the glacier, melting together to a compact ice mass. A melt layer develops between glacier and mountain due to the enormous weight on which the glacier slowly drifts downstream. Crevices arise from the movement that allow to loo into the interior of a glacier. The compressed ice absorbs yellow, orange and red light rays but allows high-energy photons to pass and evoke a blue shimmer. But the Exit Glacier is completely blue, missing its protecting snow- and firn layer on top that will feed the glacier to built new ice. Its innermost is bare. Maybe summerly melting is one of the reasons, but I can’t displace the idea of looking at a dying glacier.

70 km south of Anchorage we are turning into Portage Lake Road. After a few kilometres you can watch spawning salmon in a clear brook from Willow Fish-Watching Platform. Little ducks are diving against the current to catch some fish eggs. From late July to early September there are pink, chum, coho, and chinook salmon. Depending on their species they become two to six years old, and return for spawning from the sea to the creek they hatched out. Unlike Atlantic Salmon the Pacific Salmon migrate once in their life and die then.

Behind the Begich, Bloggs Visitor Centre at Portage Lake you can see small icebergs even during summer that Portage Glacier calves into the lake. Portage Glacier can be reached only by boat. There is a short hiking path to the neighbouring Byron Glacier. Although signs warn from walking on the ice since you could fall into a crevice, there is no cordon to hinder you from doing it. We are following hundreds of other footprints until we’ve got enough glaciers for today.

From Homer viewpoint I am counting at least seven blue shimmering glaciers on the opposite shore. It would be probably more with better visibility. They all belong to the jagged, deeply snowy Alaska Range. Homer is inn the end of Kenai Peninsula, a small town with an ice-free port that lives from fishing and tourism. Homer Spit is a 7 km long slender sand promontory looming into the sea. Campgrounds neighbour souvenir shops. In the end of the promontory anglers are standing in 10-metres-distances, getting fish out of the water at minute-intervals. A female angler is enlightening us: Halibut is good fish, but flounder is much sought after. Cod is an all-eater and stinks, the big ones taste muddy, but some people prefer the big cods. Salmon is the best, a “clean” fish, but they don’t bite yet. In Homer. From time to time it is blubbering foamingly from an underground pipe. Nobody seems to take notice, but we are doing without the offered fish. Beside a Russian couple is angling. Americanisation must have missed them completely. The stout shoes, the long flowered skirt and the differently coloured floral headscarf belong to another age.

Many things point to the originally Russian settlement. First settlers probably came 12,000 years ago from Siberia across the dried up Bering Strait. The name Alyeska, “mighty land”, dates from this time. After Danish Vitus Bering found 1728 by order of Peter I the Great a strait instead of the expected isthmus he started in 1741 another expedition across the strait later named after him. Behind the Aleutian Islands he reached the North American continent at the Gulf of Alaska and took possession of it on behalf of the tsar. Ignoring Englishman James Cook’s surveying Russian trappers and fur traders settled from 1784 on in Alaska. After nearly exterminating sea otter and efficiently decimating numerous other fur-bearing animals the colony caused more expenses to the tsar than gaining profit and was offered for sale in the middle of the 19^th century. The whole world laughed at that time at US Foreign Minister Seward who bought the assumingly useless “ice box” for 7.2 million Dollars from the Russians. It didn’t laugh long. Only 13 years later Joe Juneau discovered the first gold. In 1959 Alaska was constituted as 49. US state and 1968 petroleum was found in Prudhoe Bay as you know. Many town names like Skilak, Soldotna, or Kachemak still today bespeak the Russian heritage as well as some street names as for instance Kalifornsky Beach. In Ninchilik and also in Kenai that was originally founded as Nikolask Redoubt you find Russian Orthodox churches with their characteristic onion spires.

On our way back we are turning into Seward Highway. This road is said to be especially attractive because leading through Chugach Mountains. Unfortunately clouds are hanging into the valley so that there is nothing to see except the road and from time to time a turquoise rivers or lakes. We are driving to the end of the road in Seward that is shockingly touristic. At the shoreline one campground is glued to the next, but actually they are just ordinary parking lots where hundreds or more thousands of motorhomes, trailers, and tents are parked. We are leaving the horror quickly and turn into Exit Glacier Road north of town. Visibility isn’t better here, so we are parking and hoping for more weather luck for tomorrow.

On our way south-west to Kenai Peninsula we are following the Turnagain Arm that shows with eleven metres the greatest tidal change of North America. There is a 30 km long side road along Skilak Lake not only with pretty views and complimentary campgrounds, but with tons of mushrooms as well. We can’t resist. At Anchor Point a short trip brings us to the most western point in North America that you can reach by car: 151° 52’ western longitude. There you find an amazing panorama of the mountains on the other side of the Cook Inlet, belonging to the Ring of Fire. Just from here you can see five active volcanoes that spit ashes from time to time.

Two Golden Eagles are sitting on the gravel beach sharing a fish. A seal curiously puts its head out of the water and an osprey is passing by to see if there might be some fish left for it. Hundreds of seagulls are sitting shrieking around the eagles awaiting their opportunity. As I am thinking that eagles must have got nerves of steel they are taking off enervated and leaving the screaming folks.

If you want or have to shop in Alaska, it is best to do it in Anchorage. Alaska’s mainly high price level is lower here, and there are no sales taxes. At Costco we eventually find edible cheese for reasonable price – even when it means I have to buy a kilo-plate feta, a double-double pack mozzarella, and carriage wheel-sized brie.

In Canada a fresh chicken costs around twelve appetite suppressing Canadian Dollars. Conveniently broiled you can get it for 8 $ – a mystery. Canadian mothers complain of their daughters tending to precocious growth and getting huge bosoms they had dreamt of their entire life, or paid a lot of money to the plastic surgeon. Most of them accept this shrugging their shoulders. At Alaskan Costco we buy a huge broiled chicken for less than five US-Dollars; we will eat three times from it. There was no remark not to be treated with growth hormones. I just hope that my growth phase is yet completed. But taste was good…

Instead of following the boring main road we are turning in Willow into Willow Fish Road. The 80 km long track leads over the 1,184 metres high Hatcher Pass to Palmer. In the beginning of the west side and on the eastern end there are some kilometres asphalt, but mainly it is a narrow one-lane gravel road with pull-outs and very narrow serpentines. It is not suitable for large motorhomes and trailer combinations, but one of the most beautiful routes we drove. From the west you quickly reach treeless tundra. The trail accompanies a mountain creek that shoots over big round rocks into the valley. Then the road rises higher and higher, on the right side a deep valley opens. There is still a lot of active gold mining in this area; whole families seem to spend their holidays here seeking for the precious metal.
From Hatcher Pass you have a beautiful view onto the road and a couple of ponds. On an August 10th we are stocking ourselves with thick jackets and wool caps, and hiking up to one of the surrounding mountains. We are rewarded with a breathtaking view to both sides: The frugal west, just covered with a green carpet, and the high, jagged, and snow-covered mountains of the east with the glittering waters of Matanuska River in-between. The city of Palmer is situated in the middle of a fertile green valley, the only agriculturally important region in Alaska where many kinds of vegetable grow excellently due to 165 frost-free days in an average year and long daylight hours in summer. On descending you pass the Independence Mine where you can inform yourself about the history of gold mining and prospect for gold on the public claim. On the east side the road squeezes itself together with a romantic brook through a canyon. Separated through the mountains from Alaska’s cold back-country bushes and trees grow rampant in the balancing climate of the Gulf of Alaska, part of the North Pacific.
Anchorage is situated at the Cook Inlet, again a part of the Gulf of Alaska, between Knik Arm and Turnagain Arm. With 283,000 inhabitants Anchorage is Alaska’s second largest city, but its capital is still Juneau at the Gatineau Channel in the state’s inaccessible south. The Gulf welcomes us with more than unpleasant weather. 10° C, 65 km/h wind, and upcoming drizzling rain make even Anchorage’s residents shudder. We are going to Earthquake Park where on Good Friday 1964 during North America’s strongest earthquake in the New Age parts of the land and 75 houses plunged into the sea. You still can see old cars, nearly buried in the gravel beach. Later we will get to know that exactly as we had a coffee in our cabin at Earthquake Park a nearly imperceptible earthquake of intensity 4.1 vibrated Anchorage. The city lays at the Ring of Fire, the active earthquake and volcanic zone around the Pacific. Less intense earthquakes and volcanic ashes regularly strike the area, stronger quakes are fortunately rare.

Mount McKinley is with 6.194 m (20,320 feet) not only the highest mountain on the North American continent; it has to offer a world record as well: The vertical relief between the lowlands near Wonder Lake and the mountain’s summit of some 5500 m (18,300 feet) is even greater than that of Mount Everest. Mount McKinley reins in lofty isolation over the Alaska Range that divides south-central Alaska from the interior plateau. The mountain is covered at 75 % from permanent snow fields, feeding many glaciers at its foot. Unfortunately it is rare to see. Statistically clouds cover it during half the year. As today. We were lucky to see it from Fairbanks, even when it was not completely clear then.

In Denali National Park where the mountain is situated we buy an annual family pass “America the Beautiful” for 80 $. About half of what Canada asks for. You are only allowed to go the first 24 km with your private car. With reservation for the campground you may go another 22 km. You can do some short hikes in the entrance area. If you want more than just a bit of sightseeing or even want to see Mount McKinley in the park you depend on the shuttle bus system. That costs pretty much money and you have to reserve well in advance – without knowing how the weather will be then. It is high season and there are so many people in the park. We are getting kind of claustrophobic, are happy to see two caribous and continuing to Denali State Park. There are viewpoints from where you can see the “High One”, the name Athabascan native people gave the massive peak. But meanwhile clouds fell off the sky and we can just imagine that there must be a mountain range somewhere beside the road.

We are taking off to Denali Park and Anchorage. From a viewpoint behind Fairbanks we get a good idea from the mosaic-like forest fires. Their smoke covers Fairbanks since nearly two months, but due to former military use of the area and probable ammunition remnants the fire can only be fought from the air. Forest fire is stopped six miles in front of Fairbanks, but that’s all what is done.

After finishing shopping and whatever we have to organize in Fairbanks, we park in the parking lot of DIY centre where a good Wi-Fi signal is. We are skyping and working into the night. Saturday evening disco starts – unexpectedly – at eleven. At half one we decide to leave the city to find a quieter place.

On Dalton Highway truck drivers officially have priority. They are known for driving carelessly with full-speed in the middle of the road and whirling up gravel that often destroys windshields and headlights. We can’t really share this experience. Only few truckers behaved that way. Most of them slow down and keep to the right – if you do it as well.

Of course the weather has to change when we parked on an island in the middle of a river, and the island is very obvious flooding area due to missing vegetation. Since the early morning we look again and again out of the window if water level of the river is rising because of the rain. It doesn’t, but we can’t sleep any more and start our way.

We manage only 66 km today. We meet another travelling couple and decide to spend a day together at the Arctic Circle.

Our overnight spot on an island in the middle of a river (it was shallow enough to drive through) guarantees not only exclusivity; we like it so much to decide staying one more day here. We want to save water for showering and go bathing in the river instead. We didn’t cross the Arctic Circle yet, so we are swimming in an Arctic river! The water is warmer than expected; my thermometer shows nearly 14°C, cosy for Arctic temperatures. Anyway, who ever bathed in such cold water knows what I’m talking about…

The security officer is dogsbody: At eight o’clock sharp he is turning on the introducing video tape. He drives the bus we are riding on, and he is tour guide. At a time, 5,500 people work here, another 5,500 are off to replace them when having their off-time after a shift, usually two weeks on, and two weeks off. Caribou are walking around in the village. They seem to feel safe here since hunting season started. After the security gate 1400 drill heads are installed to produce oil and gas as well. The field was discovered in 1968, production started 1977 after finishing the pipeline to the ice-free port of Valdez in southern Alaska. During the pipe is well insulated to keep the petroleum warm and liquid, radiators for cooling were fixed on many pipeline carriers to not thaw the permafrost and sink into the ground. Weights partially hang on the pipes to minimize vibrations with strong winds. There isn’t too much precipitation in the “Arctic desert”, half of the one in Phoenix/Arizona in the yearly average. And it’s pretty dry there already. But the stormy winds can whirl up the little snow so that visibility tends to zero. During this time, Beaufort Sea is frozen and you can drive on ice. Now we are getting towels and can bathe our feet or more in the Arctic Ocean. It seems to be milder than expected, but our tour guide is explaining the water temperature to be 4°C. No wonder, the pack ice shall be just two miles off the coast, and the North Pole is only 1200 miles away. The whole excursion takes two and a half hours. The 45 $ for it are a worthy investment. There is a lot of information about oil production, but about nature and environment as well, you can visit an oil field what is very difficult otherwise, and you have access to the Arctic Ocean.

From now on we will go for a long, long time in the main direction south. On our way back we see again two musk-ox herds and are following one of them for a long time to take pictures. Unfortunately we aren’t prepared very well, and today is less wind than yesterday. Few enough to not matter mosquitoes. For the first time we really get to know Alaska bugs. They ARE big. But more worrying is their number. Dozens of them are immediately sitting down on our jackets; hundreds are buzzing around our heads and stinging into any exposed piece of skin: hands, face, scalp, and ears. Sometimes the girls (Only the female ones shall sting, isn’t it) seem to forget to inject their narcotic so that already the sting hurts like the one of a wasp. That’s not funny and most probably not the place to settle down.

I’d like to tell you a curiosity: Alaska is the most northern, western, and eastern US state. The first two attributes seem logic. But eastern? A part of the Aleuts belonging to Alaska crosses the date line and is therefore east of the rest of the United States.

James Dalton Highway is not everywhere built on a thick layer of gravel like e.g. Dempster Hwy. The secret is an insulating Styrofoam layer that separates road from permafrost.

Alaska’s tundra appears less lovely, but rougher and jaggier. It’s just beginning of August, but colours are changing fall-like. Birches are getting yellow leaves, and bushes are becoming brown. White clouds are glued to a white sky like cotton buds on a piece of paper. The road starts climbing gradually from Coldfoot on, then steeper and steeper into Brooks Range. We are leaving the last trees behind us. We will not see any ones more north. We are crossing 1448 m high Atigun Pass, highest elevation of the entire route. Only some lichen, weeds, and moss grow here, or else it’s naked. Only the tour through these mountains is worth to make this trip. Grandeur and beauty of this landscape are mind-blowing. First only the valleys between the stone giants are grown with grass. Glaciers rest in shady depressions. On descending grey colossus become smoother green mountains and hills then, until land flattens to just one green plain that slowly slopes down to the sea. It is called North Slope. Blue brooks and ponds cling to it. A lonely caribou skips away during ground squirrels try to shout cars off the road.

It has still 27°C, but it’s not hot anymore, because there is wind, wind, and wind. It is coming from south; I don’t want to know how it is when blowing from north. Snow has to be expected any month of the year, and there is still snow from last winter, like a white ribbon on the foot of a brim. Something dark brown, wavy is galloping on skinny stilts through the tundra: a musk-ox with short bended horns, flatly grown together on the forehead. Its bragging long hair is fluttering in the wind like the flag on our truck roof. The hair of a musk-ox is said to be eight times warmer than sheep fur. Right after we are discovering a whole herd of wild musk-ox of nearly 20 animals. Around 1800 they were nearly rooted out. Their population recovered, but is still endangered. It is not allowed to hunt musk-ox, but there is meat from raised animals available.

I imagine the north to be like this: Stormy wind with 65 km/h on the endless flat plain. We arrived in the end of the world, at least in the northern end of the American continent that is passable by car. We are in Deadhorse at Prudhoe Bay. After the gold rush that seized Alaska as well, the US state gained importance one more time when oil was discovered. Today there is an ugly container village on piles that contains of fleets of vehicles, workers’ accommodations, and simple hotels. At Caribou Inn Hotel we are booking a tour to the oil fields and the Arctic Ocean. The whole facility may only be entered with a security guide. Deadhorse, five miles in front of Beaufort Sea, is the end for private vehicles.