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| The fishing village of Petersburg, Alaska |
Our last morning in Denali National Park, clouds moved in again. We discovered that the park lodge's coffee shop was also a WiFi hot spot, so joined other weary travelers in downloading our photos and communicating with the outside world there. We drove back thru Fairbanks in pouring rain. We spent the night at our welder friend's park in Tok again before heading back to Yukon Territory, where we would return again to Haines Junction and then drive south to Haines, AK, to catch the Inside Passage ferry. There is only one alternative to the Alaska Highway between Tok and Whitehorse—a road that goes even further north and is reportedly covered with sharp stones and gravel. It is not recommended for RVs. Chris checked his welds and declared them secure, then we proceeded east.
The segment of the highway within Alaska had been resurfaced and was in better condition. We also noticed experimental “anti-permafrost melt” tiling that had been installed beneath the new roadway.
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| St. Elias Mountains |
After crossing back into Canada, we drove slowly through Beaver Creek and across the badly damaged road east of there. The sky was clear and we caught a few distant glimpses of a couple of the St. Elias peaks, but not the taller ones that are located toward the southern edge of the range (the Alaska Highway skirts the northern edge of the St. Elias Mountains.) Nevertheless, by the time we got past our former Lake Creek campsite, approaching a town on Kluane Lake called “Destruction Bay,” Bob inspected the reinforcing and discovered that, although it was holding up, the original frame had completely cracked through in one spot. Although the trailer was not sagging, the broken tubing was starting to chew up the fiberglass body. We realized that it would need further reinforcement. Also, the trailer tire on that side was wearing unevenly.
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| View from Frosty's restaurant in Haines Junction, Yukon |
We had the telephone number of a Minnesota friend's cousin Gordon Allison in Haines Junction, so we telephoned him from Destruction Bay and asked him to try to find a welder there who could work on our trailer the next day. Fortunately, it was not a Sunday this time. Gordon also lined up someone to change the oil on our Subaru, which had traveled more than 4,000 miles since leaving Minnesota. We drove slowly over a pass, the highest spot along the Alaska Highway, into Haines Junction. En route, we spotted a large grizzly in the road ditch, he appeared to be waiting to cross the highway. We met Gordon and his wife at the restaurant they once owned in Haines Junction. The view from the porch at the restaurant is pictured. We had planned to camp at nearby Kluane National Park, but opted to stay at an RV park in town that was near the two garages. At least we got showers that night.
The next morning, Gordon escorted us to the shops where we unhitched the trailer for welding and dropped off the Subaru for an oil change. Subarus are popular thruout the Pacific Northwest.
Then we went out for coffee. Noticed that Yukon coffee shops sell espresso, lattes, fishing guides—and pepper spray for bears.
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| The Kluane Visitors Centre and First Nation Cultural Centre in Haines Junction |
After that, we stopped at the Kluane Visitors Centre and First Nation Cultural Centre in Haines Junction. In the photo, Bob and Gordon are standing in front of a cache tower at the Centre, which residents of Yukon Territory use to store their game and food to keep it away from wild animals. Gordon is active in the local historical society as is his friend, Ron Chambers, of Tlinglit First Nation heritage. I had met both men two months earlier at the Dassel History Center when they were traveling through Minnesota. Some of Gordon's paternal ancestors, the Sellards and Colemans, once lived in the Dassel area, on the farm now owned by Stuart and Joan Johnson. Gordon is a cousin of Julie Coleman Lindquist. Gordon told us that his father, a World War II veteran of the Canadian armed forces, who was born in Sasquechewan, moved to Haines Junction after the war to take a job maintaining the new Alaska Highway. His mother was a bank teller in Whitehorse.
Besides being a leader at the cultural centre, Mr. Chambers was also instrumental in restoring his people's hunting, fishing and gathering rights within national parklands, so that they can continue to live off the land, if they so desire.
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| Kathleen Lake, Kluane National Park, Yukon |
After lunch and retrieving our vehicles, Bob & I headed for Kluane National Park, where we again hoped to camp and hike at Kathleen Lake. But it was pouring rain.
Disappointed, we took a few photos and headed south, where we found better weather at Million Dollar Falls Provincial Park.
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| Yellow Aspen trees, Kluane Park |
We were sad that travel to any back country in the Yukon was scuttled by the trailer repair delays, but Bob was pleased with the opportunity to meet three nice welders—he used to be a welder himself. And Gordon's hospitality went above and beyond anything that was expected. Good people in the North Country.
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| Oscar at Million Dollar Falls Park |
Another reason to drive further south on the highway away from Haines Junction is that an annual bicycle race was scheduled to begin the next morning, and the highway immediately south of the junction was expected to be closed for a couple of hours.
Oscar even found a sunny spot in which to lie down beside the picnic table. Our doggy was beginning to tire of cold, wet weather and constant confinement to a leash.
The next morning, we snapped a few photos of the falls and headed south toward the Alaska border. Along the route here, we passed a few of the faster bicyclists. Their support vehicles were parked along the shoulders.
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| Along the Haines Highway |
The road through the coastal ranges between Haines Junction and Haines has many eagle nests and spectacular mountain vistas around every corner.
It is impossible to drive from Anchorage or Fairbanks to the Alaska panhandle without traveling through Canada and there are only two highways between Canada and the Alaska coast. The only panhandle cities accessible by road are Skagway and Haines.
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| Alaska Marine Highway |
At Haines, we drove our rig onto the cargo deck of the Alaska Marine Highway. The trip to Juneau was calm and restful for us.
However Oscar had to stay in his kennel in the car. After four hours, he was very glad to see us.
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| North end of the Inside Passage |
As we approached Juneau on the ferry, we spotted a couple of glaciers coming down to the sea. We also saw occasional orca and whale fins surfacing while on the ferry.
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| Mendenhall Glacier Campground |
Arriving in Juneau at dusk, we spent three nights at the Mendenhall Glacier campground, located across a lake from the famous glacier, pictured above. Another, smaller lake, adjoined our campsite. Signs around the campground warned of the presence of bears.
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| Mendenhall Glacier with floating "calves" |
We spent our first day in Juneau exploring Mendenhall Glacier area and the road to the north end of the peninsula. Here's a closeup of the Mendenhall Glacier. Inner glacial ice is turquoise-colored. Melted-off chunks, called “calves,” are floating in the water. Evidence of global warming is much more prevalent in the arctic and in glaciated areas than it is in temperate climates. The Mendenhall Glacier has retreated at least a half mile since the 1930s.
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| State Capitol building, Juneau |
Our second day we did laundry and explored downtown Juneau and saw the state capitol building. Since we had the dog with us and couldn't easily go fishing, we opted to purchase fresh fish at a market. It was also much cheaper than hiring a guide and boat.
Our final morning in Juneau, we had to catch the ferry very early. While Bob was preparing the trailer for travel, I took the dog for a walk. We had barely gotten on the path around this little lake next to our campsite, when I spotted a black animal about 50 yards ahead of us and thought to myself, “Oh someone else is walking their dog.” The creature lifted its head, and I realized that it was not a dog, but a young black bear. Then I saw another bear beside it. They spotted me and disappeared into the woods to the right of the path. I hustled Oscar back to our campsite before he saw the bears, put him in the kennel, and jumped into the car, saying to Bob, “hurry and finish up, there are bears headed this way.
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| Black bears at the neighbor's tent site. |
In less than a minute, I saw the bears leaving the woods beside our campsite and crossing the driveway into a neighbor's tent site. The neighbors had carelessly left empty beer bottles and other containers on their picnic table overnight, so the bears stopped to check it out. I slowly opened the car door and, keeping it between me and the road, snapped a few photos, including this one. Meanwhile, Bob had secured the trailer and joined me in the car. We drove away, stopping at the trailer of our campground host to make him aware of the unexpected visitors before heading to the ferry.
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| Ferry docked at Sitka |
We got on the ferry and headed for an afternoon stopover at Sitka, the original Russian fur trading post site in Alaska. Midway through the eight-hour trip, Bob asked the ship's purser to allow him down to the car deck to walk Oscar. Ferry literature had stated that there would be regular “dog walk” calls to passengers with pets on board, but this purser was not inclined to allow it; apparently the crew was busy and did not want to be bothered. Bob reminded him of the promise and he relented. We also had a chance to walk Oscar during the 90-minute layover at Sitka. This photo is of our ferry at the dock.
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| Bird refuge in rainforest at Sitka |
Sitka's ferry port is next to the site of the old Russian post. After a few years the Indians tired of being abused by the traders and burned down the post; then the Russians sold Alaska to the United States. It is now a bird refuge. The entire Alaska panhandle lies within the northern temperate rainforest. It is mostly Sitka spruce, hemlock and western red cedar, carpeted by ferns and skunk cabbage. The plaintive song of the Hermit Thrush is common in these rainforests.
The ferry traveled all night to Petersburg, a fishing village on Mitkof Island. Some hardy passengers slept in tents on the sundeck.
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| Petersburg Harbor |
We passed small floating icebergs and harbor seals on our way in to Petersburg. However, the pursor neglected to make a “dog walk call,” and we were sleeping on recliner-style seats and neglected to nag him. By the time we got down to the car deck, the inside of our car was a mess. Oscar had panicked, shredded his bedding, taken out the front panel of his kennel and was in the front seats, where he had no access to food or water. He had chewed most of the way through the driver's seat belt and also damaged an inside door panel. The car reeked of the odor of an unhappy dog.
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| Our campsite on Mitkof Island |
We drove to a campsite in a remote location. on the south end of Mitkof Island and proceeded to make repairs and clean out the kennel. The campground was officially closed due to budget cuts, but it was not barricaded and a few hardy souls were camped there anyhow. The ferry would not return to the island for two days.
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| View of a misty mainland glacier from the shore of Mitkof Island. |
There was no potable water at the campground, and since the ocean is salt, we had to drive 20 miles back to town the next morning to get water even for washing dishes.
The rain forest on Mitkof Island was full of spruce, hemlock and skunk cabbage. It rained every day, although the rain was light while we were there. I was glad we had brought good rain gear. However, we lacked the knee-high rubber boots worn by resident panhandle men, women, children and even teenagers.
This photo is of the picturesque harbor. Note the unusual rocky peak at left, the Petersburg Thumb, a navigational landmark in the panhandle. While in town getting water, we also stopped at the public library and got on line again. Access to the Internet and cell phone service was infrequent and, as we learned after arriving home, Canadian roaming charges are expensive, even when you have international service.
Cottages, seaside houses, crab trawlers and nets lined the sides of the roads.
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| Sons of Norway Hall, Petersburg, AK |
This Sons of Norway Hall, complete with Viking ship replica, is on the National Register of Historic Places. The village was named after a Norwegian immigrant who opened a salmon cannery.
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| Muskeg, Mitkof Island |
Part of the interior of Mitkof Island is muskeg—a stagnant bog hospitable only to shallow-rooted black spruce trees.
Eagles, like this juvenile, are plentiful in coastal Alaska. Instead of seeing one or two eagles at a time, like here, you see them in flocks, sitting on the limbs of trees on the edge of the water.
The big cruise ships do not come to Mitkof Island. The harbor isn't deep enough and the Wrangell Narrows passage barely accommodates the ferries of the Alaska Marine Highway. Ferry service is every other day.
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| Watchman at the bow of the ship. |
In the Narrows, the keen eyes of a human watchman augment the ship's navigating system. Careless motorboats sometimes cross right in front of ferries and barges, and the watchman warns them with a loud horn. The ferry ride to Ketchikan, the southernmost city in Alaska, was shorter than the previous ferry rides, so Oscar tolerated it better. Bob had reinforced his kennel panel so he couldn't take it out. He also had a chance to walk Oscar when we docked at Wrangell.
A fishing trawler makes its way along the Inside Passage near Wrangell.
Timber is another major industry in the panhandle. These logs were being floated between booms along the Wrangell Narrows.
We camped in a national forest near Ketchikan. We heard Pacific loons on this lake; their warble is not as loud and melodic as our common Minnesota loons. We also consulted a veterinarian, who sold us a dog-calming spray and recommended giving Oscar Benadryl to make him drowsy on our next trip on the ferry.
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| South Totem Pole site |
Ketchikan is famous for its collections of restored totem poles. The coastal Indians carved them from red cedar to illustrate legends and to honor the founders of their clans. Here Bob and Oscar add to a legend at the south totem pole site. Totems are not idols of worship, but serve to teach stories about the origins of animal species, geographic landmarks and other legends.
The village chief and his extended family resided in large, painted longhouses. Less prominent families resided in smaller longhouses nearby. The Tlinkit and other coastal Native Americans were rich in resources, with a highly developed culture. Their clans follow maternal, not paternal lines. They had a robust trade arrangement with inland natives, long before white men arrived in the area. They continue to play an active role in government, particularly in Canada.
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| Part of Ketchikan's north totem pole site. |
The north totem site has fewer poles, but they are in a more natural, wooded setting, facing the sea. Some current Indian villages include traditional totem poles; we drove through one later in British Columbia. Totems identify the homeowners' or village clan and are a status symbol.
After two nights in Ketchikan, we boarded a ferry to Prince Rupert, British Columbia. It was a long trip. The purser on this boat was more sympathetic to dogs, allowing Bob to visit Oscar once and checking on Oscar herself. The Benadryl worked, and he slept much of the eight-hour journey. The Queen Charlotte Islands are in the distance in this final photo as we enter Canadian watere.
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