This entire trip, it seems like each day feels like a week and each week feels like months. I mean this in the best way possible. Not that time is dragging by, but that so much is being experienced that it can’t all possibly be in just a day. This isn’t simply a matter of volume of experiences but also intensity. I have also had this incredible feeling of being blessed with good fortune, so much that I would even go so far as to say that some divine force is fine tuning events so that they work so beautifully in my favor so often that it can’t be simply coincidence.
My last post left off in Anchorage, with me enjoying the luxury of a basic hotel. I had tried to contact my uncle but, not hearing back, I went to breakfast to figure out what I would do with my day. I tried calling him again, but it really looked like a visit was not going to be possible. I will not give details, but my uncle’s life was presenting some challenges that, despite his deep desire to see me, was making it extremely difficult to see anyone.
I decided to visit a local native heritage center before hitting the road and heading (not far) to Palmer, Alaska. That morning, as I was getting the rock ding in my windshield fixed, the lady at the counter told me I shouldn’t visit Palmer. She said it was a dingy and dilapidated farming town with unfriendly people who are downright hostile to outsiders. Despite this, I still wanted to go there because the next day was Friday and the guidebook told me about their farmers and crafts street fair every Friday called Friday Fling. It sounded so much like my kind of thing that I refused to be swayed by her negative appraisal.
Still in Anchorage, I went to the native heritage center and really enjoyed it. They had lots of great information on all the tribes in Alaska and several craftspeople there selling handmade items. They also had live performances and I managed to see a few of them while I was there.
I left the heritage center and got on the freeway heading towards Palmer, sad to be leaving Anchorage without seeing my uncle. I had just merged onto the freeway when my phone rang. It was my uncle calling to ask if I was still in Anchorage. Things had improved on his end, and he was really hoping I might still be able to stop by. Of course, I got off at the next exit and headed to his house.
I spent an hour or two visiting with him and it filled my heart with happiness to see him. He doesn’t know this, but he was my favorite uncle when I was a kid because he had such a positive energy and always seemed happy to see us. He would grab us kids up by the hands or hand/foot and swing us around for airplane rides, even after I had gotten chubby. It took a little more effort because I was heavier, but he never shied away and always treated me like a beloved niece. I loved him for it.
I was so prepared to see an older version of him after all these years, but he looked just the same to me! We talked and caught up on things, he enjoyed sharing his stories of bears and moose, fishing and hunting, and life in Alaska. I gave him updates on me, my life, and my dad. We shared our grief over all the loved ones lost so recently, my mom, his brother (my oldest uncle), his sister-in-law (my other uncle’s wife), his friends, so much loss, so much to bear in such a short time. He expressed how much he enjoyed seeing me and I told him how much I felt the same way. We parted with hugs and with the hope he might come to California in November/December and enjoy the holidays with us. I hope he can come.
I had less than an hour to drive to Palmer, so I didn’t have any worries about the time. On the drive I marveled at how he had called at the exactly perfect time. If he had called an hour later, I would have already been gone. It felt a little like fate how it all worked out. My only regret is that I didn’t think to take a picture with him.
The next day I went to the street market in Palmer, not sure what to expect or hope for. It was wonderful! I am so glad I didn’t listen to the woman who discouraged me from visiting Palmer. The main street next to the park and visitors center was closed and lined with food trucks, local vendors, farm stands, artists, and even pony rides. At the end, they had tables and seating set up with a stage for live music. I spent a couple of hours just looking around, enjoying all there was to see and do. I overheard locals marveling at the great weather and saying how they were so happy it wasn’t raining. I had lunch from one of the food trucks and sat down to eat while listening to the music. I bought jams, a smoked antler chew for Bella (my doberman), and other random things. I was impressed by the two community gardens I saw. One garden had signs asking people not to harvest the food there because it was being grown for the local food bank and senior center. A different garden was open for all and had signs to please take what you need but not more, to leave enough for all who may have need of it. Imagine all of this in a small town with snow capped mountains all around. Wow, what a great place. I found the people there very open, friendly, and kind. I don’t know what that lady was talking about, but Palmer is a pretty fabulous town.
Leaving Palmer, I headed back in the direction of Tok. After looking at my guidebook, I planned and hoped to stay at a small campground called Grizzly Lake. My drive took me through and over magnificent mountains. I stopped to see the Matanuska Glacier and felt simply awestruck. I had read it was 4 miles wide and 27 miles long, but that did not prepare me and I am sorry to say my pictures don’t do it justice either. I stopped at the official state recreation area where the 4 mile wide terminus is easily and marvelously visible. But that’s just the beginning! As you drive further up the highway, every quarter mile there’s a new and even more spectacular view. At one point, you can see what seems like the entire 27 miles of glacier from the terminus flowing up the valley and snaking its way into the base of the mountains. I can finally SEE enough of a glacier to understanding why they are considered rivers of ice. It really did look like a river…of ice.
The rest of the drive was a series of stunning views, followed by differently stunning views. I felt myself filled with awe and wonder anew so many times, and yet it never got old. Beautiful valleys dotted with lakes, towering jagged peaks, hanging glaciers and sometimes simply more than my eyes and brain could even process.
As the day got late and I had another hour before I would arrive at my desired campground, I began to worry. I had forgotten to call ahead while I had a signal, and I had no idea what to expect. Were they still open, would they be full, would anyone be there? I decided that I would just have to wait and see and adjust when/if it became necessary.
And then it all worked out perfectly. Yes, they were open and the lady in the office was coming up just as I pulled up. They had one lakeside spot that was small but Rosie would be small enough to fit into it! So, I got this absolutely stunning spot next to the lake with snow-capped mountains in the backdrop. I thought, seriously, how is my life this good?
Have you had those moments where you are so deeply moved by nature that your chest constricts and your heart opens wide, filled with such a sense of awe and peace that you feel like you will explode with joy and all you can do is sit there and cry? This is how I felt looking over the lake as the sun moved lower in the sky.
The next morning I sat inside Rosie and watched the rain dapple and ripple the lake and somehow it was even more beautiful. I was too deeply grateful for being there to feel sad about leaving as I headed out towards Haines Junction. I stopped in Tok for breakfast and planned where to stop in Beaver Creek. Except, the town of Beaver Creek and just about everything between Tok and Haines Junction was boarded up and closed down. So, I just drove on until I found a nice-looking campground about an hour later. I pulled in and they found one of their last spots for me (see, lucky again!). I chatted with a few people and we had the typical conversation most people have on the Alcan, “Where are you from? Where have you been on this trip? How was it? Where are you heading next?” I found out I have been even luckier than I realized. I learned that about a week after I went from Watson Lake to Whitehorse, the road washed out! They closed the highway for several days and then found a workable detour to let people through. After several days being closed, the backup of vehicles created an incredible jam of people all desperate to get through as quickly as possible. It was a mess…but I had gotten through just in time.
I headed out again the next day, this time planning on getting to Haines Junction. Boy, the road was bad. It was mostly paved, but with so many frost heaves, potholes, and nasty transitions between paved and unpaved road, that I had to slow way down and watch every nuance of the road ahead. I saw several RV’s pulled over with problems but I took it slow and Rosie handled herself like a champ. Later, I learned from a group that people were actually losing axles on their trailers, trashing their suspensions, and blowing tires. Thankfully, none of those things happened for me, it just took a lot longer than the 3 hours reported by the gps.
When I got to Haines Junction, the main campground was boarded up and overgrown with weeds. The only place to camp was a small lot adjacent to the gas station. It wasn’t too bad. I learned around the fire pit that night that I had again been very lucky. The road from Whitehorse up to Dawson City has been shut down and they don’t know when they will reopen it because of fires. People were surprised when I said that’s the way I came, because most people planning to go that way have had to completely change course.
The next day (yesterday), I crossed back into the USA on my way to Haines, Alaska. Again, the drive was a series of incredible views that boggle my mind. At one spot I found a great place to pull over and spent an hour sketching the mountains.
When I got to Haines, I managed to snag the last oceanfront spot at the Oceanside RV park and spent a few hours wandering around town. I backed Rosie right up to the water and opened the back doors. It was cold and breezy, but it wasn’t enough to detract from the awesome views. This morning I was up early in my camp chair, wrapped in my blanket with my slippers on, sipping coffee and reading. I made sure to take moments away from my book to enjoy the views of the clouds moving over the mountains across the bay. I watched Bald Eagles soar overhead and sometimes right in front of me. I even saw a mother with two fledglings who were able to fly but clearly still novices.
Right now, I am in the “clubhouse” of the campground waiting to catch the ferry to Juneau and catching up with the blog.