lakes – Page 3 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

Tomatoes, Eagles, Pelicans, Klamath Lake, Colorado…it’s life

The title thing is making me crazy, especially when I choose not to post daily when I am home. Maybe I will revert to “Thursday September 22” or something equally as creative. For now, however, I just wanted to hit the highlights. It has been a delight being at home this time of year. I think September and October in the Klamath Basin are the most beautiful months. The days are warm and still long enough to accomplish something. The nights come earlier, but they are cool enough for early bedtimes with good books and the soft summer down comfortor.

Mo has been filling her days with outside tasks around the property, while I have been catching up on work, mostly at home, but going into the office every now and then. Sometimes it’s great to go to town for work, since otherwise I would just think the drive too long and the gas expense not worth it. When I go to town, I get to have great conversations with Chris, my local boss, about all the interesting mapping he is doing, all the soily gossip about what is going on in what survey office, and just general good stuff.

I also have a chance to shop, get fresh groceries and do the (wandering around kind of) shopping that doesn’t interest Mo in the least. Joanne’s Fabrics is always fun, and I walk around feeling everything and daydreaming about the great things I could make if I had a sewing machine. My sister is a quilter, my daughter makes amazing costumes for theater and her pirate gatherings, and for years I used to love to sew. My life changed, and I haven’t had a sewing machine in 20 years. Often I say, “well, if I had a sewing machine I could do X, or Y, or whatever”.

Enter my 66th birthday, and with some various contributions from various folks, including myself…ahahaha….I have a sewing machine! My sister suggested I try to find a used Bernina 1230, her go-to machine even though she has a much newer one. After some searching on E-Bay and on the local Craigs List, I actually managed to win the bid on a machine. After paying for it with a credit card, with my CURRENT ADDRESS on the card, I received a lovely email from the gentleman saying he had just mailed it with full insurance to my CALIFORNIA ADDRESS!?!?! OHNO! I guess that address was still buried somewhere in EBay even though I haven’t lived there for almost two years! With some panicky phone calls and some retracted insured mail, eventually I will get my sewing machine. Hopefully I will remember what X and Y were. We actually have a tiny quilt shop right here in Rocky Point and I have never checked it out. I guess it is time I did.

Beautiful warm days call for tomatoes, and finally I can say that the greenhouse is providing. The heirloom Brandywines I tried to grow are still green, but Yellow Boy is producing bundles of incredibly sweet yellow good sized tomatoes, and the Willamette variety is doing well for big reds and Sweet 100 has provided bowls of cherry tomatoes. With the fresh lettuces, spinach, chard, peas, onions, basil, baby carrots, 3 cucumbers, and a very few green beans, I declare the greenhouse a success.

I actually had enough ripe tomatoes to dig out one of Mo’s old family recipes for Tomato Chili Sauce. It was fun to make, a bit like a relish or chutney, with tomatoes, green hatch chilis, onions, with cider vinegar and some sugar, and then some very interesting combinations of spices including cinnamon, allspice, lots of chili pepper, and other sorts of things that I wouldn’t normally use in this kind of recipe. The resulting sauce/relish is delish on meat as a condiment, and if I ever stop dieting, I plan to try it on a hot dog!

The other major project going on around here is house painting. Mo found an outfit in Klamath that seems to be a bit more thorough than the last folks who stained the big cedar house. Even so, they seem to come and go at odd times, they are getting the old sealer stripped off in preparation for the new stuff. Living in the forest as we do seems to cause a lot of mold to grow on the cedar siding in spite of regular care. They have been power washing for a few days now and hopefully will get it sealed again before the rain starts.

I love this time of year, especially the Halloween season, and fall in general. My orange totes full of goodies are calling to me, and I keep finding little halloween-y things to add to my stash. One of the reasons for a stix and brix, I can decorate to my hearts content and somewhat to Mo’s consternation. I am using all my will power to NOT put out a single fall decoration until October 1st. Just a few days.

We celebrated the gorgeous late September days with another kayak out on Pelican Bay. The water is getting low this time of year, and the water plants and algae are thick. Even so, the water is still incredibly clear in Recreation Creek and out into the Bay. Only when you reach Klamath Lake proper do the weeds and algae get so thick that paddling is no longer fun. We have paddled some incredibly gorgeous lakes, with crystal clear water, and not a water plant in sight. They are beautiful, but then there a no birds, often we are lucky to see a lonely duck in those lakes.

Our Klamath Lake is fecund with life, and has been so since the 1850’s when John C Fremont declared the lake unfit for even horses to drink. It’s not all about pollution, it is about the natural life span of a lake formed many thousands of years ago, and filled with phosphorus rich volcanic ash from the Crater Lake (Mt Mazama) eruption 7,700 years ago or so. That beautiful, rich, smelly, plant life, brings in millions of birds in the spring and the fall, with many spending their summers here getting fat on all that food.

When in Alaska, one of the exciting things for folks are the eagles, with eagle traffic jams and many photographers excited about seeing eagles in the wild. I did take photos of eagles there, but was a bit less excited than some folks because we have eagles here in the basin. There are nesting pairs along the lake, and several hundred birds feast on ducks and fish in the wildlife refuges.

I actually get more excited about my favorite white pelicans than I do the eagles, but yesterday on the lake I was treated to both. We spent a couple of hours on the water and invited a Rocky Point friend to go along since we now have extra kayaks. It was a perfect way to spend a late September afternoon.

This weekend I will be running off to Colorado for my grandson’s wedding. First a drive to Portland to spend the night with my oldest daughter, then the two of us will board a flight to Denver, Colorado tomorrow. There we have rented a car to drive to Sterling, where Deb will hostess (and pay for!) the Rehearsal Dinner for her son and his bride-to-be and about 20 other folks. Saturday is the wedding with most of Jessi’s family, and only some of us from Matthew’s side who can manage to get away to Colorado. It should be a lot of fun, as well as a bit interesting, with all those side stories that go on in families providing some extra entertainment.

Life IS good.

There are photos of the gardens here and photos of the kayak on the lake and the birds here.

It is time

Time for what you say? Time to write something again that isn’t related to the Alaska Trip. I know, I know, we got home on the 15th, and I think it now is the 27th of the month. The first week home, of course, was spent cleaning up and settling in. The second week home I had to go back to work and put in a good 40 hours or more trying to get everything to work properly again after a government software upgrade. Can you say “nightmare”? Finally, today, I managed to finish writing about the last few days of the trip. Somehow I just couldn’t make myself write about it, and each morning my ‘todo’ list had on it, “FINISH BLOG”. I am also not sure when I will be ready to change my header photo from that picture of Joe Lake on the Denali Highway. I am just not quite ready to let go yet.

At least I am finally caught up. At least I will be until tomorrow! The MoHo is lined up in front of the Tracker in the driveway tonight as we prepare for launching once more tomorrow morning. This launch is a short one, though, just a 2 night trip to Silver Falls State Park a few hours north of here. We will hike waterfalls, check out all the amazing dahlias in full bloom at the Swan Dahlia Farm festival, and sit by the campfire in the forest, this time under starry skies. We will cap off the trip on the way home with a much anticipated visit with Donna K and Russ from TRAVELS IN THERAPY. I’m tickled about getting a chance to meet our fellow Oregonian blog friends.

As I write, Irene is bearing down on the east coast, and Al has posted photos of the sad damage in the Ontario town of Goderich. So far, everyone I know who is east is doing OK. My daughter the trucker was in Connecticut, but traveled south and is now in Orlando. She managed to get out of the way of the storm. So far, all the RV’rs back in that part of the country seem to be hunkering down and doing OK, at least the ones who can blog about it. Out west all is calm, a few forest fires ignited last week in a thunderstorm are burning in Central Oregon, but everything around here is peaceful. Nights are in the 50’s, days are in the mid 80’s, humidity is low and skies are brilliantly blue. Oregon in the summer, when summer finally comes, is perfect.

Within a few days of getting settled back in, we had the kayaks out for a paddle. It was a gorgeous morning, just cool enough to need a long sleeved shirt out on the water for about half an hour before we started peeling off our shirts. The lake was so calm and there was a bit of smoke hanging over the mountains to the east, but I didn’t care. Snow was still on McLoughlin, and just a bit on the rim at Crater Lake and Mountain Lakes Wilderness. It felt good to be out in the boats in familiar water. The funny part about familiar water is that on Klamath Lake it is never the same twice.

The lake levels vary and sometimes the refuge can get pretty low, but on the morning we went out, the water was deep enough that we had no trouble paddling across what is called “The Wocus Cut”, a route that nearly did us in for a late fall paddle last year. At that time we were paddling in late evening and our paddles were scraping bottom. That was a rough ride that I don’t want to repeat! We traveled the beautiful canoe trail through the refuge and so enjoyed all the birds. I packed the camera along in the waterproof pelican case and took bird photos. Since I just bought a serious wide angle lens, battered though it may be, I won’t be getting a fancy bird lens any time soon, so I have to settle for the best I can do for now. I’ll let Judy take the fancy bird photos while mine will at least remind me of what was out there and how lovely they are.

The greenhouse has created a jungle of tomato plants and at last a few are getting ripe. You have no idea what an amazing feat that is at Rocky Point! I planted some more spinach and lettuce for the fall, and am enjoying having a little bit of veggie garden to putter in.The daylilies are blooming beautifully, and so far the deer have left us alone. I sprayed the Liquid Fence almost immediately, and I don’t know if it makes the difference or if there just aren’t any deer around this year.

The birds are back after a few days of filling the feeders, of course there aren’t nearly as many as there were in the spring before we left. It seems the finches and wrens are the most prolific right now, and I have seen several flickers and this morning a tanager graced my office window. For some reason the flicker was harassing the tanager as they both fluttered around in the sprinklers. Strange.

I am not a daily blogger, unless we are traveling of course. I often wonder about whether I need to even write anything at all when we aren’t moving. Then I realize that I want to share the birds, and the lake, and the daylilies, and what better place to do it than here? While on our Alaska trip we gained quite a few new followers, and I thank each of you for checking in and paying attention.

The rest of the photos for our kayak outing are linked here.

Day 37 August 11 Hinton to Jasper NP and the worst moment of the trip

We woke this morning to misty drifts of fog slipping in and out of the hills around us and by the time we dropped down to the town of Hinton for fuel, the fog was so thick it was hard to find the gas station. Even early in the morning, there was considerable traffic on Canada 16, where Hinton is the gateway town between Edmonton and Jasper National Park.

We were in no hurry, though, and as we climbed into the massive Rockies, the fog lifted, exposing a higher level of cloud cover above us. When you enter the National Park, if you don’t plan to stop, they will wave you through without a fee. We told the agent that we wanted to kayak a bit and then find a place to camp somewhere between Jasper and Banff and she smiled and charged us a little over 16 bucks for a pass to both Jasper and Banff that was good until 4PM tomorrow. Perfect.

With a park map in hand, we decided that Maligne Lake looked like a perfect spot for kayaking and turned east, crossing the Athabasca River to travel beyond Maligne Canyon to the lake. About half way there we found a great empty turnout and parked the MoHo, thinking we could save a bit on gas if we just drove the baby car. I am so glad we did that, because the parking situation at the lake was tight to say the least, and while there was plenty of room when we arrived at 10am or so, by the time we got off the lake it was an entirely different story!

We launched the boats in cloudy skies, but after a bit of time on the lake the sun peeked through, warming us and making everything in view just sparkle. Maligne Lake is famous for the island at the far end of the lake, Spirit Island. It was a photo of this little island that made me want to put my boat on this lovely water. The only problem is that once again, we are in a very popular national park, and concession boat rides to Spirit Island are the only way most folks get to see it.

The cruise boat traffic was busy, with a boat leaving about every ten minutes and another one returning. The lake was beautifully calm, so the big swells from the wakes from these boats were dramatic, and we just rode along with them. The lake is more than 7 miles long and we really didn’t have the time for a 14 mile paddle, so we traveled along the west side of the lake about half way before crossing over to the eastern shore for a break. The water was perfectly clear, and Abby loved her swim while we walked a bit along the shore.

It was a beautiful day, a beautiful moment, a beautiful time on a beautiful lake. Ahhhh.

When we arrived back at the launch dock, we were surprised to find it crammed with people. They were all hanging around in the middle of the boat launch taking photos, standing around everywhere, and there were so many cars in the parking lot that we knew there was no way we would manage to get the car down to the launch. Instead, we picked up our 34 pound wonder boats and carried them up to the lot for loading. The rental RV’s were bumper to bumper trying to find parking, and one lucky person in a sedan had managed to park in the ditch and was stuck. We just loaded up the boats and got out of there as quickly as possible. By this time the sun was out in full force and it was actually hot.

We were happy to see the motorhome peacefully waiting in the one turnout that wasn’t occupied, hooked up the baby car and made some lunch before heading back out the Maligne Lake Road to the highway. On the way we saw several wildlife traffic jams, but one of them was actually worth stopping for, and I joined the crowds taking photos of a very unconcerned bull elk. Mo said she had never seen a rack as big as this guy, and I don’t think I have ever been that close to a bull elk ever. Probably not very smart. Back in my soil survey days, we had stories about encounters with bull elk, but usually that was in the fall during the rut. This guy was pretty darn tame, I guess.

We ambled on through the park, enjoying the views and the animals and decided that stopping in Jasper for cute little shops wasn’t worth the effort to park. Instead we drove slowly with all the other tourists, and I took photos out of the window cafes, and stores, and tourists. Jasper town was really quite nice, with many old homes converted to B&B’s, and lovely gardens. I could enjoy staying in Jasper for a week or so and taking more time for hiking the many trails and kayaking the many lakes. The maps looked so enticing.

Instead, we were getting into the home mode, and after six weeks traveling magnificent Alaska and the Yukon, this lovely little park full of tourists was a bit less exciting than it might be if it were our planned destination. We continued on south along the Athabasca River, planning to stop at any of the campgrounds along the Icefield Parkway that had room for us without a reservation.

Not far south we saw a campground down along the river, missed the turn somehow, and pulled into another turnout to retrace our steps. Mo said, “Wow, that is a great mountain”. I stepped out of the rig with the camera in hand to get a good photo, and Mo said one minute I was there and the next minute I was nowhere. With my eyes gawking at the mountain and my camera pointed up, I stepped into a deep hole in the asphalt and went down with a very hard crash. All I saw was broken glass and plastic strewn out in front of me, and I didn’t give a whit about whatever was going on with my body. There were half a dozen people in the parking lot who must have thought I was nuts, screaming, “It’s thousands of dollars, it’s thousands of dollars!!”

I was a bit skinned and bruised but that had nothing to do with the sick feeling in my stomach. Deanna’s lens. The super fast, super heavy, (later I found out it is $1539 bucks of super) lens took the full brunt of the fall. Not to mention my brand new camera. The lens filter was splintered and the metal edge of the lens was bent, the mechanism was stiff and acting funny. Duh. I clicked. Nothing. Clicked again. Nothing. I am so sick I can’t even cry. I put one of my other lenses on to see if it was just the lens. Click. Nothing. Then I look a little bit closer and see that the on/off button has shifted in the fall. Turn the camera on. Click. IMAGE! I put Deanna’s lens back on. Click. IMAGE!!

I think it must have been the heft and solidity of that fancy NIKON lens that took the hit and saved the camera. I tried several shots with Deanna’s lens, and except for a bit of stiffness in the zoom, it seems to still have perfect auto-focus and the images look fine. Incredible. Of course, I have to replace her lens, and insurance is $1000 deductible, so it’s coming out of my pocket. The good part about all this is that I never would spend 1500 bucks to get that lens for myself, and now I have one. Maybe a bit bent, and maybe not perfect, but still working and now mine.

By the time we backtracked and settled in to Mt Kerkeslin campground, $12 for a dry site, I wanted nothing more to do than sit and drink a beer on the sofa. My body hurt, my mind hurt, and I was a wreck, even with the reasonably good outcome. I felt like any step I took was going to put me on the ground somehow, it was definitely disconcerting! Mo took Abby for a walk, and we canned any plans to hike Athabasca Falls. I sat there alone on the sofa saying a ton of “thank yous” to the powers that be for letting the worst moment of our trip not be any worse than it was.

Miles driven today (in the MoHo): 73

The rest of the photos are linked here

August 7 Day 33 Irons Creek to Muncho Lake

In life sometimes there are good days. Sometimes there are really great days. Then sometimes there are days that are written in golden memory, shining and brilliant for the rest of a lifetime. This was just one of those days. Since I woke this morning beside a creek in British Columbia, time seemed to crawl along in some sort of slow motion. Every single moment of this perfect day was drawn out long and still, a gift I suppose from the land and the water and the skies, a gift so that I could savor it.

Our boondock site last night along Irons Creek was still in an area of road construction, so we thought it would be a good idea to get on the road early enough so we didn’t need to worry about falling in line with a pilot car.The skies were still light when I woke at 11:30, but by 1:30 when I again woke and checked for northern lights it was dark enough to see stars. I haven’t seen stars since we left more than a month ago. It was 31 degrees when we opened the back blinds at 5:30 the only one we had closed during the long quiet night. After heating a pot of water for tea, we closed up the rig and were on the road before 6.

The drama of the morning light was accentuated with mysteriously beautiful drifts of fog lying in the low lands along the Llaird River. We drove for awhile looking for a nice level pullout to stop and cook Mo’s favorite Sunday morning treat, poached eggs on toast. Then another stop for a walk down to the river to view the Whirlpool Canyon rapids was rewarding with cool fresh morning air and the roar of the river.

At Coal Creek, there was a small café advertising WiFi, and I thought it might be a good place to try to upload the backlog of blog posts, but even with the $5. fee, I couldn’t manage more than a simple update post with no photos and a quick check of email and bank accounts. That was really all that mattered anyway, the blog will be there when we are eventually.

Within minutes of leaving Coal Creek we encountered the first of many buffalo grazing along the highway. Most folks traveling this route will see these buffalo, and they seem to congregate along the wide highway shoulders thick with grasses. I wondered if they were native to this area or if they have been transplanted here by the BC Parks. Of course, with no internet, I will have to find that out later. We enjoyed taking photos of the huge bulls with their massive heads and the little ones protected by their moms as they moved along with heads down, grazing.

The reality of cars and wildlife hit home hard as we passed a dead buffalo beside the road, and saw her little one grazing alone along the highway. Huge signs warn of buffalo in the area, but still many are killed. In all, we saw at least 4 dozen buffalo, many bulls and many babies, so even with the sad moment it was encouraging to seem them. Later I found out that these are “wood bison” and that the herd was once completely decimated. Only in the recent decades has the BC government protected them and the herd has grown to nearly 100 animals.

The wide road opened up before us, dropping down off the Yukon Plateau to the valley of the “mighty” Llaird River. Yes, it is another mighty river, according to the Milepost. I do love the mighty rivers of the Yukon and British Columbia. It’s a good word.

One of my important “todo” lists for this trip was a visit to Llaird River Hot Springs and it was less than 80 miles from our night camp to the provincial park. At first I thought we might stop and camp here for the night, but then decided that it was worth the ten bucks to dip in the springs and then continue down the road to Muncho Lake, another big “todo” on my list and camp there. I wanted to dip my kayak in those famous turquoise waters.

We settled into a parking space and turned on the fan for the animals since Abby couldn’t go out on the hot springs trail. They have a boardwalk that passes through hot mud flats and wetlands, through the forest, to the first pool. The second pool is now closed due to an endangered animal that lives there. There was construction going on, with a new dam being built, but somehow it still felt silent and calm around the pool. There were a few people around, most of whom seemed incredibly respectful of the special beauty of this place.

I slipped into the mid zone of the pool, knowing that 126*F would definitely be too much for me at the source of the spring. It was heaven, just pure heaven. There is a bit of sulfur, but not too much, and there is every variation of temperature in the water, from bathtub comfortable at the lower end of the pool, to too hot for me to handle at the upper end.

I marveled at the feeling of incredibly hot surface water, with cooler water at my feet. Perfect for hitting that lower back spot without getting too hot! Mo doesn’t like sulfur water so I swam alone while she rested on the benches. I’m not sure how long I stayed, but while I was in that water, nothing hurt, just nothing. You know how it is when the years catch us, something somewhere always seems to be hurting. Nothing hurt at all while I was in that pool, and as I sit here by the campfire tonight, still nothing hurts. I could use one of those springs in my own yard!

Once again I met an Alaskan willing to tell her whole story. All it takes is a hello and a simple question, and they are off and running. I met Janet, a woman who has homesteaded at Healy near Denali for 29 years. She is driving back to the ‘lower 48” for the first time since then. Her daughter is in Colorado and needs her. She is afraid of dealing with the city, laughingly telling me that in all her time at Healy she only had to deal with one crazed bear. She hates the idea of dirty snow and of paying for water. But her daughter needs her. She quit her two jobs and is going to Colorado. She last dipped in the Llaird pools 29 years ago when it was all free, but promised herself this one stop on the Alaska Highway.

Not far beyond Llaird Hot Springs the view opened up to the lovely blue water of Muncho Lake. I think I expected it to be a bit more colorful thnt it looked at first because it has been touted so much in all the literature. Still, it was a respectable blue with edges of turquoise and emerald in the shallows. There is a campground listed in the Milepost at the southern end of the lake, with 15 rocky beach sites. On the information map for the park, however, we saw another campground on the northern end and decided that might be more to our liking.

Pulling in to Macdonald Campground we found 15 beautiful sites, each with it’s own perfect small gravel beach, a table and a fire ring. It was still early in the afternoon, and it was warm and clear. We set up in our private, perfectly level gravel drycamp site, opened the awning to shelter our chairs against the afternoon sun, and looked forward to a long, quiet afternoon of beautiful views, gorgeous water, and peaceful quiet.

For the first time on this trip, Mo had a chance to plug in her little electric chain saw to cut up the pallet lying near our site in addition to a couple of downed dry spruce logs. She discovered that with the generator going, the chain saw would only run on the outlet set up for the microwave, and run it did. We had enough wood for a great long fire after supper into the evening.

I can’t explain why one day might be more perfect than any other. The litany sounds like any other day on the Alaska journey. I know we have seen more spectacular scenery, done exciting things all along the route, traveled more dramatic paths. But something about this day seemed golden, slow and perfect. I sat in the lounge chair for a long time just looking up at the light filtering through the aspen leaves listening to the lap of water on the shore.

Earlier in the day I relaxed for a long time in a clear warm pool surrounded by green peacefulness, and later in the day I silently paddled along the shore of a perfect lake surrounded by perfect mountains. We had a great home-cooked supper with simple chicken breasts, my favorite grated carrot and apple slaw, and some super sweet corn brought all the way from Medford Costco in our little freezer. After supper I slipped out again onto the lake, and then while Mo relaxed with a book I took Abby for a walk along the shore. I watched the moon low in the sky to the east and the long twilight as the sun set behind the high mountains to our west.

I felt more quiet inside than I have on the entire trip, as if the accumulation of all the experience finally settled in to a deep place in my heart. I guess that is why is was somehow the ‘perfect’ day for me on the Alaska Highway.

Miles driven today: about 230

Road condition: beautiful roads most of the way with just a bit of construction here and there

The rest of the photos for this day of travel are linked here

Day 17 July 22 The Denali Highway

Once again, we are camped within feet of a lake, but this time we are not just dry camping in a primitive campground, we are actually boondocking. We are just a bit more than 8 miles east of the Parks Highway and Cantwell on the Old Denali Highway 8. This road continues east to Highway 4, the road to Valdez, and then back north to Delta Junction where we were a few days ago. I am terribly behind in writing, and it seems the only way to get going again is for me to start with the here and now, this moment.

Mo is cutting some dead wood nearby along the lakeshore and feeding our campfire while we watch the evening sky shift and change across the lake. It smells wonderful. A very occasional car or truck passes our site, but we aren’t really visible until they are almost right on top of us, so that works just fine. This morning when we drove this highway, for a very long time we were the only ones on the road.

We began our day in the Riley Creek Campground at Denali National Park, with a 5:30 am drive west on the park road to Savage Creek, the extent where private vehicles are allowed in the park. Except for the green and white shuttle buses, already taking people into the deeper recesses of the wilderness, we were the only ones on the road. We thought perhaps an early morning drive might yield some critter viewing, but it wasn’t to be. Again, we saw squirrels and snow shoe hares and nothing else. Unlike yesterday, this morning the Mountain was clouded over and if we hadn’t seen it last night we would have had no idea where it was on the horizon.

The tundra was beautiful at dawn, though, with pale shades of misty green on the high hills to timberline glowing in the morning light. Once at the parking lot at the Savage Creek trail, we were delighted to be the only ones there. Rules said that we couldn’t leave Abby untended in the car, and of course she couldn’t go on the trail, so Mo sat with her while I took off on a beautiful, silent walk along the river. The only sound breaking the silence was the river, the sounds of birds calling, and an occasional rumble as a shuttle bus crossed the bridge to the security point. When Mo was here so many years ago, she was able to drive to a campground farther into the park, but even back then the only animals she saw were a small herd of caribou in the distance. There are no guarantees that you will see any wildlife at all, even on the bus that travels the entire 85 miles to Wonder Lake.

I have a friend, Jeanne, who lived in Alaska for several years and told me we should try the Denali Highway for a true wilderness experience without the crowds of Denali. So after our morning drive, we packed up the MoHo and headed south on the Parks Highway 3 toward Cantwell and the Denali Highway junction. Mo checked in with the owner of the Tesoro station at the junction and he said it would be fine to leave the MoHo there while we took the Tracker on the gravel road leading east through the wilderness.

I owe it to Jeanne, because we might not have taken the time and trouble to travel this long gravel road. Even though unpaved, the road was in much better shape than the Top of the World Highway, and we could have driven the MoHo all the way to the eastern junction with Highway 4 without any problems, I am sure. We spent many hours on the trip, mostly because I had to keep stopping to take pictures and walk out over the hills for wider vistas. Along the way, we saw many places that would be perfect for boondocking, but this one at mile 8 was our choice because of the lake and the proximity back to our route on Highway 3 south to Talkeetna tomorrow.

We drove as far east as the Susitna River crossing where the landscape changed dramatically. This is about the half way mark of the road, and also marks a great landscape shift where the Sustina River flows south to Cook Inlet, and the Nenana River we had been following for many miles flows north into the Tanana River, the Yukon, and eventually the Bering Sea.

The reward for our many miles of gravel road highway was the expansive wild landscape of the Nenana River valley flowing at the southern base of the Alaska Range. During the morning, on our route east, the skies were clear enough that we could see Mt Deborah and Mt Hess among the rugged peaks of this beautiful range that also is the home of Denali as well. The Susitna River lodge, east of the river, was boarded up, and when we decided to turn back at mile 77 we were starting to get a bit hungry. Silly me, I was so excited about the trip that I completely ignored the possibility that we might need sustenance, so we had nothing with us. A few miles west of the river is a tiny enterprise called Gracious House Lodge B&B at historic milepost 82, with the supposedly famous Sluice Box Bar, and a café.

We stopped thanks to the handwritten sign on the road proclaiming pie and espresso, but the restaurant was closed and the only pie available was a wondrous creation that had been frozen for $30 bucks each.

Carol was delightful, and assured me that her pies were world famous, and that if we weren’t outsiders, we would know that they were a deal at any price. I agreed with her, but still couldn’t quite opt for a 30 dollar pie. I did buy an espresso for me and a latte for Mo and enjoyed visiting with Carol who told me all about the lodge, the slow summer, the reason for closing the restaurant, and all about her kids, grandkids, and husband. They have lived here for 31 years, (her husband actually lived her for 55 years), have traveled the Highway to the south five times because they get cabin crazy, and are really wanting to sell the place and leave the wilderness.

With a good jolt of java we continued west, enjoying the views. For a day or two now, the exhaust pipe on the Tracker has been loose and rattling, and Mo tied it up with a piece of wire till we can get it welded. But the sound we suddenly heard on the gravel road was something new, and Mo pulled out immediately to a beautiful spot overlooking the Nenana River Valley and the Alaska Range to see one of her brand new tires going very flat. The spare was ready, the lug nuts were loose enough to actually remove, and we got the tire changed without a hitch. We were both amazed to see that the puncture was caused by the 1/2 inch hitch latch bolt that had run right into the tire. Who knows how it managed to get in there but it had punctured it and was all the way inside the tire.

We continued west back to Cantwell, checking that our chosen boondock site was still unoccupied, and asked the nice Tesoro guy where we could get the tire repaired. Of course, there was a tire repair shop right in Cantwell, although I say that loosely. We paid 40 for a used tire and 20 to mount it and it was worth every penny. Especially considering the old man who wandered out of the house to help us. By the time he was done, Mo knew most of his life story as well. Folks in Alaska are very friendly it seems, and like having someone listen to them.

We picked up the MoHo and drove back to our lake, which I since discovered aka the Milepost, is Joe Lake, used by a local air service, and that our boondock site south of the road can flood. I don’t think that will be a problem tonight. After our evening kayak, we are still sitting out by the fire with a glass of wine, enjoying the evening unhampered by bugs, wind, or rain. I somehow never envisioned moments like this when I imagined what this trip would be like. I was ready for mosquitoes, for rain, for dreary skies, for hordes of other RV’s on the road. Tonight at least, we have none of that. Just wilderness all around us, a sky that is many shades of blue and white and gray, a glassy lake all to ourselves, and a free campsite.

One last thing. Erin asked the other day about how I manage the Pelican Waterproof Camera case in the kayak. First of all, we have Adirondack boats from Swift Canoe in Canada, and bought them specifically for the roomy cockpits so that Mo could paddle with Abby. For me, that equates to plenty of room for the Pelican. I lock it up while launching and if the water is smooth, I’ll open it up and can even switch lenses mid stream if needed. Seems to be a great system and I no longer have to be afraid to take the good camera out on the water. Hmm, that wide angle lens does really great things for my legs. ewwwww!

Miles traveled today in the MoHo: 37

Miles traveled in the Tracker on the Denali Highway 150 or so

The rest of the photos for this day are linked here