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Travel Journal Alaska Vacation:
Day 1: travel to the airport. Roll over accident on I5. Bitch of a commute. Inell is a trooper and drives all the way to Olympia, through the gantlet of traffic to ferry us to the airport. It took almost an hour to get out of Lacey. This was a difficult trip to the airport for Dad, who usually sets to the airport 3 hours early; he sat wordlessly in the shotgun seat, nervously wondering if we would make the fight on time. All went well and we were an hour early.
We met Bob and Berna at the airport, all smiles and nearly giddy about the upcoming flight and trip. Well, at least Bob was less Cynical than normal. I walked off and left my two paperback books at the airport. I think I caught some of Berna’s 50th disease. One was a gift, but the other was borrowed so I’ll be buying at least one replacement of a book I had barely started. At least I didn’t walk off and leave this 3,000 dollar tablet PC!
It was a good flight with great views of the Pacific coast Range for the first few hundred miles, majestic and snow covered. Later the coast socked in as is the normal state for the rainy southeast Alaska coast.
We arrive in Fairbanks and are met by the Princess staff where we are told too not get our bags. Then we wait while they accumulate then and we are finally allowed to touch them to retag them to there next destinations. One bag goes to the boat and the other one travels with us for the next couple days. We arrive at the Fairbanks Princess Lodge and hook up with The Fuller side of our couple trios plus Dad. Dad has to fight off one grizzle bear but it doesn’t upset him much. After the long flight cooped up it probably just felt good to blow off a little steam.
The next morning we hop on a big Princess bus and are shuttled a mile or so to the Discovery 3 paddle wheeler for a river tour. They treat us with a great 3 hour tour of the Chena River eventually entering the muddy sandbar ridden Tanana River. They have a float plane take off and land next to us on either side of the boat. The guide talks with the pilot. We stop at the late Susan Butcher’s, four time winner of the Iditarod, “Trailbreaker Kennels. We talk, via guide and headsets with the trainer. He and his staff have puppies to show us and about 60 dogs. 14 dogs are harnessed to a motor-less Quad that they enthusiastically pull as a finale, around the camp at 20 mph pulling a 200 lb musher. Every dog in the place goes nuts with excitement seeing their friends getting to pull.
Down the river a bit more we are entertained by a native Athabascan woman who has a fish camp and fish wheel setup. She explains a little bit about their culture and the need to catch one chum salmon a day for the winter food supply for each of their dogs. They have fish drying and she cleans a chum salmon and readies it for drying in 33 seconds.
Later we meet with the rest of her family who demonstrate and model the fur clothes of their culture. The Sun hood is lined with wolverine which doesn’t freeze frost up in the cols. At their Chena village they have reindeer, a garden with huge cabbages that grow to 30 lbs or more; skins from bear, moose, caribou, among other. PETA activist in the group contemplate burning the place to the ground in protest, however, it is pissing rain and they couldn’t get anything to burn in the area with a blow torch and a big bucket of gasoline (Boy Scout water).
There was a unfounded rumor that their were Kings salmon in the river, noted by a few fisherman. They must have been cruise liner plants for the tourist, cause no one caught or displayed any fish. The fish wheels that were running were running empty. It’s pouring rain on us for much of the paddle boat ride. When we disembark to tour the village we are given umbrellas to make it a little more pleasant. The demonstrations are brought on board prior to keep us from getting wet.
We hope back aboard the train and then a Princess bus to Denali Princess Lodge. The weather clears and we catch a glimpse of Denali, which is better than many tourist experience. We’re happy to have had the glimpse and don’t expect much more.
The next morning we board an old school bus to take a ride with Brian, an Indiana native and long term Alaska resident for a guided trip into Denali National Park. They limit the access to a few bus companies on the park road. Brian, a tall lanky blonde with a scruffy red beard waxes poetically about the parks flora and fauna, geology and history. We stop and admire a cow moose with two calves right next to the road. They entertain us as they bounce around and eat the purple fireweed and suckle their mother until she can’t take it any longer and brushes them off. After 3 or 4 minutes they wander off into the brush and we move on. We continue on until the paved road ends 17 miles into the park. Denali is still 70 miles away, but we catch a peek of it periodically as the clouds part for a bit.
We stop on the return trip to view 25 or 30 Dall sheep on the ridges above the road. Brian brings out a spotting scope that allows us good views of the sheep and their curled horns.
Further down the mountain we stop to view two huge Bull Moose meander along a small alpine lake. My vantage point didn’t allow for very good pictures. Rick got the best pictures. These were big burly moose. They made the cow look pretty homely and gangly in comparison. It’s kind of like comparing Russell Crow with Popeye’s Oliveoil.
We return traveling through the town of Talkeetna the jumping off spot for people attempting to climb 20,320 Denali (Mt. McKinley). The next day we stop at the ranger station where all the climbers have to register. To keep their rescues to a minimum, they make them all unpack their gear and inventory their stuff to make sure they’ve got 3 weeks of food and all the necessary climbing gear. No spending money helicoptering off bonehead tourists in flip flops and cutoffs off the glaciers for them. I picked up a book on the first winter summit called minus 148 degrees and learned a whole new respect for the big mountain that dwarfs Rainier. The mountain lift’s her skirts that morning and we’re treated to some spectacular views of Denali along with Hunter (14,573 ft) and Foraker (17,400 ft). It takes close to 3 weeks to climb the highest peak in North America, and arguably the tallest mountain in the world (starts at much lower than Everest). It’s not uncommon to have July temperatures dip to -40 degrees Fahrenheit. Our friends Art Foley and Julie Smith have both climbed Denali; I don’t think I’ll be signing up any time soon. They are both much tougher than I am.
We travel a bit more by bus and train out of the park but closer to Mt. Denali to spend the night at McKinley Lodge; I think it is also owned by the Princess Cruise line. There are a bar called 20,320. Spending time in the bar is the only way I’ll remember Denali’s height.
We finally make our way via the McKinley Express railway, skirting Anchorage, spotting a black bear on the river bed. We have a nice early dinner on the train and drink moose mary’s. That evening we arrive at the little town of Whittier, a narrow little deep water bay that is part of Prince William Sound. We finally spy the Island Princess, our home for the next seven days. The water under the obscene floating hotel cruise ship monstrosities is 6,000 feet deep. The processes like pampered Kobe beef cattle into the comforting womb of the mothership. We’re issue cute little Princess Credit Cards. We quickly start to eat Princess Food. By the end of the trip we expect to piss Princess blue and crap little Princess boats that they sell back to us in the gifts shops.
We checkout our lavish luxuriant accommodations. Joy Dad and I, the consummate tightwads, are sharing what we fondly refer to as the honeymoon suit. The room is about 8 x 10 equipped with single bunk beds. I think some may have referred to it in the past as steerage. Joy quickly claims the top bunk. We have a view out the little port hole of the side of a life boat. We might not see much out the window but we’ll be one of the first out should we pull and titanic and hit an iceberg. We sail away through the night and arrive in the wee hours, 5:30 AM, at College Fjord. After being wined and dined the night before it takes a hearty soul to hope out of a warm bed to view the sights. Joy is that hearty soul. After hearing the naturalist’s narrative droning on with a steady monotone that is impossible to make out actual words down in steerage. Joy pops out of bed, tosses on some cloths and goes up on deck to see if we’re sinking. I stagger up 15 minutes later to a spectacular view of glaciers flowing down into a placid sea that reflects the clouds on a windless morning. Dad follows a bit later. The rest of the gang chooses to sleep in for some much needed beauty sleep. They finally drag themselves up on deck as we are motoring out of the fjord.
We continue on to Glacier Bay for more spectacular views rare sunny skies. Many of the crew members are on deck taking pictures as well. Many have never seen the weather so good where you have views of the glaciers and the mountains above that are normally shrouded in clouds. We spend several hours just admiring the scenery and the occasional calving of the glacier into the water. Bobby captures one of the better ones on film. The cruise ships get very close to the glacier but are no longer allowed to honk their big steep fog horns to break loose the ice for the tourist. The probably caused the swamping of a few wayward kayakers. We spot a harbor seal and eagle on the little drifting ice chunks. We even see a grizzle bear on the far bank that you could only make on through binoculars.
We make cruise out of Glacier Bay and keep our eyes peeled for more wildlife. Bob captures a good shot of what I’m guessing is either a minki whale or small humpback whale. We enjoy another fabulous meal with our waiters who are quickly becoming our close personal friends. We dine on escargot appetizers and variations of lamb, beef, and seafood.
At sunset. Joy and I go up on deck to watch the sunset. We’re treated to an incredible sunset with the wake of the ship leaving a trail back to the white glowing mountains with the orange sky reflected in the clouds above. We suffer minor hypothermia and a dieing camera battery to capture a few memories as we huddle together shivering romantically. The rest of the gang takes in a comedy show, Dad spends the evening between the Library and reading in our room.
We cruise through the night to arrive in the morning at Skagway, population 800 with 65 miles of road. The cruise line crowd swells that number to over 10,000 most days in the summer. There are 3 or 4 in port. After a morning run through touring town Joy and I hop aboard the Yukon Scenic Railway to make a make a run past 2,865 White Pass and the Chilkoot Trail, the road to the Klondike during the gold rush. The poor, adventurous, or just greedy miners had to haul 2000 lbs of gear up the pass. Enough for a years supply. They were checked out at the top before they were allowed to continue. We pass into Canada’s Yukon Territory. The Canadian customs people check out passports on the train that is really in the middle of nowhere. We arrive at Fraser and Bernard Lake for a little kayaking adventure. It’s a bit windy so we head out with our 4 guides and a dozen or so fearless kayakers. We’ll actually some of them look very afraid but all are willing. Joy and I are the most experienced and quickly leave the crowd in the dust to meander into the calm bays and wait for the group to catch up. We sail with a stiff tailwind back barely having to paddle. The rookie guide then is apparently required as a right of passage to do a polar bear dip into the frigid waters of the lake that only lost its ice a few weeks ago. The estimate is the water temp is a balmy 44 degrees. He tries to recruit some tourist to join him. There are no takers. We sit around and swill hot chocolate and quaff Oreo cookies and watch him shiver. If memory serves me, the Full’s and Even’s spend some quality couples time in Skagway shopping for jewelry and gifts. You should have seen the gleeful look on Bobby and Rick’s faces when they heard the morning agenda. Dad took a different train ride that cumulated in a seafood feast. Interestingly the American custom officials didn’t even look at our passports. They just wanted a head count. So much for homeland security. Send this on to any terrorist you know. I think I’ve spotted the weakness in our fight against terror.
We come together for another wonderful meal. We all have frog legs. We’ll at least I had frog legs. Seemed like cheating eating frogs I didn’t catch like we did as kids. They were good but personally I would have let these little frog go to grow up a little. We enjoy another evening of shows and lounging in the Library reading while watching the scenery to by. as we head for Juneau. We watch Dan Bennett, the juggling comedian. The next morning we tour the Juneau Macaulay Salmon Hatchery with thousands of Chum salmon milling around the hatchery. Eagles and Gulls are feasting on the carcasses strewn randomly across the beach. On the wall is a mount of the former world record sport caught King Salmon - a staggering 92 lbs. We make stops at the museum and continue on by bus to a native garden and the Mendenhall Glacier, a long meandering glacier that cumulates in a lake just a 40 minutes or so outside of Juneau. An impressive water fall flows out of one side and we spot a few colorful red sockeye salmon in the little creek that is the outlet for the lake.
Next - a full day and night cruising toward Ketchikan. We take advantage of a seafood buffet and admire the fruit and vegetable carving demonstration along with the ice carving demonstration.
In Ketchikan the gang splits up. Rick and Marie go on a rafting trip and Bobby and Berna take the adventure cart tour. Joy and I do a little 12 mile bike ride with only one other tourist and a guide. With 35 miles of road in Ketchikan the road biking options are pretty limited.
We make the final push the next day for Vancouver. That night we have lobster. Dad and Bob and think tie for the most lobster eaten, both devouring eight of the little crustaceans. The rest of us suck down a paltry 3 to 5. We are treated with traditional flaming baked Alaska (serno cans on top) for dessert paraded around the room by the large staff of wait persons while they belt out the Macarena on the speakers.
It was a great trip and fun was had by all. I’d write more but it is late and God knows you don’t want to read more of my drivel. Enjoy the pictures even it the words put you to sleep. My editor is in Chicago visiting with her family so suffer with my typos and grammatical mistakes. Please don’t point them out to me; my ego is fragile and easily bruised. I make no claims to the accuracy of the chronological order of the events depicted here. If any of our cruise gang wants to correct me they can write their own damn story.
Day 1: travel to the airport. Roll over accident on I5. Bitch of a commute. Inell is a trooper and drives all the way to Olympia, through the gantlet of traffic to ferry us to the airport. It took almost an hour to get out of Lacey. This was a difficult trip to the airport for Dad, who usually sets to the airport 3 hours early; he sat wordlessly in the shotgun seat, nervously wondering if we would make the fight on time. All went well and we were an hour early.
We met Bob and Berna at the airport, all smiles and nearly giddy about the upcoming flight and trip. Well, at least Bob was less Cynical than normal. I walked off and left my two paperback books at the airport. I think I caught some of Berna’s 50th disease. One was a gift, but the other was borrowed so I’ll be buying at least one replacement of a book I had barely started. At least I didn’t walk off and leave this 3,000 dollar tablet PC!
It was a good flight with great views of the Pacific coast Range for the first few hundred miles, majestic and snow covered. Later the coast socked in as is the normal state for the rainy southeast Alaska coast.
We arrive in Fairbanks and are met by the Princess staff where we are told too not get our bags. Then we wait while they accumulate then and we are finally allowed to touch them to retag them to there next destinations. One bag goes to the boat and the other one travels with us for the next couple days. We arrive at the Fairbanks Princess Lodge and hook up with The Fuller side of our couple trios plus Dad. Dad has to fight off one grizzle bear but it doesn’t upset him much. After the long flight cooped up it probably just felt good to blow off a little steam.
The next morning we hop on a big Princess bus and are shuttled a mile or so to the Discovery 3 paddle wheeler for a river tour. They treat us with a great 3 hour tour of the Chena River eventually entering the muddy sandbar ridden Tanana River. They have a float plane take off and land next to us on either side of the boat. The guide talks with the pilot. We stop at the late Susan Butcher’s, four time winner of the Iditarod, “Trailbreaker Kennels. We talk, via guide and headsets with the trainer. He and his staff have puppies to show us and about 60 dogs. 14 dogs are harnessed to a motor-less Quad that they enthusiastically pull as a finale, around the camp at 20 mph pulling a 200 lb musher. Every dog in the place goes nuts with excitement seeing their friends getting to pull.
Down the river a bit more we are entertained by a native Athabascan woman who has a fish camp and fish wheel setup. She explains a little bit about their culture and the need to catch one chum salmon a day for the winter food supply for each of their dogs. They have fish drying and she cleans a chum salmon and readies it for drying in 33 seconds.
Later we meet with the rest of her family who demonstrate and model the fur clothes of their culture. The Sun hood is lined with wolverine which doesn’t freeze frost up in the cols. At their Chena village they have reindeer, a garden with huge cabbages that grow to 30 lbs or more; skins from bear, moose, caribou, among other. PETA activist in the group contemplate burning the place to the ground in protest, however, it is pissing rain and they couldn’t get anything to burn in the area with a blow torch and a big bucket of gasoline (Boy Scout water).
There was a unfounded rumor that their were Kings salmon in the river, noted by a few fisherman. They must have been cruise liner plants for the tourist, cause no one caught or displayed any fish. The fish wheels that were running were running empty. It’s pouring rain on us for much of the paddle boat ride. When we disembark to tour the village we are given umbrellas to make it a little more pleasant. The demonstrations are brought on board prior to keep us from getting wet.
We hope back aboard the train and then a Princess bus to Denali Princess Lodge. The weather clears and we catch a glimpse of Denali, which is better than many tourist experience. We’re happy to have had the glimpse and don’t expect much more.
The next morning we board an old school bus to take a ride with Brian, an Indiana native and long term Alaska resident for a guided trip into Denali National Park. They limit the access to a few bus companies on the park road. Brian, a tall lanky blonde with a scruffy red beard waxes poetically about the parks flora and fauna, geology and history. We stop and admire a cow moose with two calves right next to the road. They entertain us as they bounce around and eat the purple fireweed and suckle their mother until she can’t take it any longer and brushes them off. After 3 or 4 minutes they wander off into the brush and we move on. We continue on until the paved road ends 17 miles into the park. Denali is still 70 miles away, but we catch a peek of it periodically as the clouds part for a bit.
We stop on the return trip to view 25 or 30 Dall sheep on the ridges above the road. Brian brings out a spotting scope that allows us good views of the sheep and their curled horns.
Further down the mountain we stop to view two huge Bull Moose meander along a small alpine lake. My vantage point didn’t allow for very good pictures. Rick got the best pictures. These were big burly moose. They made the cow look pretty homely and gangly in comparison. It’s kind of like comparing Russell Crow with Popeye’s Oliveoil.
We return traveling through the town of Talkeetna the jumping off spot for people attempting to climb 20,320 Denali (Mt. McKinley). The next day we stop at the ranger station where all the climbers have to register. To keep their rescues to a minimum, they make them all unpack their gear and inventory their stuff to make sure they’ve got 3 weeks of food and all the necessary climbing gear. No spending money helicoptering off bonehead tourists in flip flops and cutoffs off the glaciers for them. I picked up a book on the first winter summit called minus 148 degrees and learned a whole new respect for the big mountain that dwarfs Rainier. The mountain lift’s her skirts that morning and we’re treated to some spectacular views of Denali along with Hunter (14,573 ft) and Foraker (17,400 ft). It takes close to 3 weeks to climb the highest peak in North America, and arguably the tallest mountain in the world (starts at much lower than Everest). It’s not uncommon to have July temperatures dip to -40 degrees Fahrenheit. Our friends Art Foley and Julie Smith have both climbed Denali; I don’t think I’ll be signing up any time soon. They are both much tougher than I am.
We travel a bit more by bus and train out of the park but closer to Mt. Denali to spend the night at McKinley Lodge; I think it is also owned by the Princess Cruise line. There are a bar called 20,320. Spending time in the bar is the only way I’ll remember Denali’s height.
We finally make our way via the McKinley Express railway, skirting Anchorage, spotting a black bear on the river bed. We have a nice early dinner on the train and drink moose mary’s. That evening we arrive at the little town of Whittier, a narrow little deep water bay that is part of Prince William Sound. We finally spy the Island Princess, our home for the next seven days. The water under the obscene floating hotel cruise ship monstrosities is 6,000 feet deep. The processes like pampered Kobe beef cattle into the comforting womb of the mothership. We’re issue cute little Princess Credit Cards. We quickly start to eat Princess Food. By the end of the trip we expect to piss Princess blue and crap little Princess boats that they sell back to us in the gifts shops.
We checkout our lavish luxuriant accommodations. Joy Dad and I, the consummate tightwads, are sharing what we fondly refer to as the honeymoon suit. The room is about 8 x 10 equipped with single bunk beds. I think some may have referred to it in the past as steerage. Joy quickly claims the top bunk. We have a view out the little port hole of the side of a life boat. We might not see much out the window but we’ll be one of the first out should we pull and titanic and hit an iceberg. We sail away through the night and arrive in the wee hours, 5:30 AM, at College Fjord. After being wined and dined the night before it takes a hearty soul to hope out of a warm bed to view the sights. Joy is that hearty soul. After hearing the naturalist’s narrative droning on with a steady monotone that is impossible to make out actual words down in steerage. Joy pops out of bed, tosses on some cloths and goes up on deck to see if we’re sinking. I stagger up 15 minutes later to a spectacular view of glaciers flowing down into a placid sea that reflects the clouds on a windless morning. Dad follows a bit later. The rest of the gang chooses to sleep in for some much needed beauty sleep. They finally drag themselves up on deck as we are motoring out of the fjord.
We continue on to Glacier Bay for more spectacular views rare sunny skies. Many of the crew members are on deck taking pictures as well. Many have never seen the weather so good where you have views of the glaciers and the mountains above that are normally shrouded in clouds. We spend several hours just admiring the scenery and the occasional calving of the glacier into the water. Bobby captures one of the better ones on film. The cruise ships get very close to the glacier but are no longer allowed to honk their big steep fog horns to break loose the ice for the tourist. The probably caused the swamping of a few wayward kayakers. We spot a harbor seal and eagle on the little drifting ice chunks. We even see a grizzle bear on the far bank that you could only make on through binoculars.
We make cruise out of Glacier Bay and keep our eyes peeled for more wildlife. Bob captures a good shot of what I’m guessing is either a minki whale or small humpback whale. We enjoy another fabulous meal with our waiters who are quickly becoming our close personal friends. We dine on escargot appetizers and variations of lamb, beef, and seafood.
At sunset. Joy and I go up on deck to watch the sunset. We’re treated to an incredible sunset with the wake of the ship leaving a trail back to the white glowing mountains with the orange sky reflected in the clouds above. We suffer minor hypothermia and a dieing camera battery to capture a few memories as we huddle together shivering romantically. The rest of the gang takes in a comedy show, Dad spends the evening between the Library and reading in our room.
We cruise through the night to arrive in the morning at Skagway, population 800 with 65 miles of road. The cruise line crowd swells that number to over 10,000 most days in the summer. There are 3 or 4 in port. After a morning run through touring town Joy and I hop aboard the Yukon Scenic Railway to make a make a run past 2,865 White Pass and the Chilkoot Trail, the road to the Klondike during the gold rush. The poor, adventurous, or just greedy miners had to haul 2000 lbs of gear up the pass. Enough for a years supply. They were checked out at the top before they were allowed to continue. We pass into Canada’s Yukon Territory. The Canadian customs people check out passports on the train that is really in the middle of nowhere. We arrive at Fraser and Bernard Lake for a little kayaking adventure. It’s a bit windy so we head out with our 4 guides and a dozen or so fearless kayakers. We’ll actually some of them look very afraid but all are willing. Joy and I are the most experienced and quickly leave the crowd in the dust to meander into the calm bays and wait for the group to catch up. We sail with a stiff tailwind back barely having to paddle. The rookie guide then is apparently required as a right of passage to do a polar bear dip into the frigid waters of the lake that only lost its ice a few weeks ago. The estimate is the water temp is a balmy 44 degrees. He tries to recruit some tourist to join him. There are no takers. We sit around and swill hot chocolate and quaff Oreo cookies and watch him shiver. If memory serves me, the Full’s and Even’s spend some quality couples time in Skagway shopping for jewelry and gifts. You should have seen the gleeful look on Bobby and Rick’s faces when they heard the morning agenda. Dad took a different train ride that cumulated in a seafood feast. Interestingly the American custom officials didn’t even look at our passports. They just wanted a head count. So much for homeland security. Send this on to any terrorist you know. I think I’ve spotted the weakness in our fight against terror.
We come together for another wonderful meal. We all have frog legs. We’ll at least I had frog legs. Seemed like cheating eating frogs I didn’t catch like we did as kids. They were good but personally I would have let these little frog go to grow up a little. We enjoy another evening of shows and lounging in the Library reading while watching the scenery to by. as we head for Juneau. We watch Dan Bennett, the juggling comedian. The next morning we tour the Juneau Macaulay Salmon Hatchery with thousands of Chum salmon milling around the hatchery. Eagles and Gulls are feasting on the carcasses strewn randomly across the beach. On the wall is a mount of the former world record sport caught King Salmon - a staggering 92 lbs. We make stops at the museum and continue on by bus to a native garden and the Mendenhall Glacier, a long meandering glacier that cumulates in a lake just a 40 minutes or so outside of Juneau. An impressive water fall flows out of one side and we spot a few colorful red sockeye salmon in the little creek that is the outlet for the lake.
Next - a full day and night cruising toward Ketchikan. We take advantage of a seafood buffet and admire the fruit and vegetable carving demonstration along with the ice carving demonstration.
In Ketchikan the gang splits up. Rick and Marie go on a rafting trip and Bobby and Berna take the adventure cart tour. Joy and I do a little 12 mile bike ride with only one other tourist and a guide. With 35 miles of road in Ketchikan the road biking options are pretty limited.
We make the final push the next day for Vancouver. That night we have lobster. Dad and Bob and think tie for the most lobster eaten, both devouring eight of the little crustaceans. The rest of us suck down a paltry 3 to 5. We are treated with traditional flaming baked Alaska (serno cans on top) for dessert paraded around the room by the large staff of wait persons while they belt out the Macarena on the speakers.
It was a great trip and fun was had by all. I’d write more but it is late and God knows you don’t want to read more of my drivel. Enjoy the pictures even it the words put you to sleep. My editor is in Chicago visiting with her family so suffer with my typos and grammatical mistakes. Please don’t point them out to me; my ego is fragile and easily bruised. I make no claims to the accuracy of the chronological order of the events depicted here. If any of our cruise gang wants to correct me they can write their own damn story.
