Anchorage's Omaha Driveway: February 2008

More than 3,500 Miles Later...

Alaska is full of great postcards, and this was my favorite.

Traveling up to Anchorage from Omaha was a great experience.

My parents flew into Anchorage the morning of my final day in Alaska.

My uncle and grandpa had canceled their tickets so that they could fish with my parents and spend another day with Martin.

I left in the evening, and I gave the van keys to my parents. After a day of fishing, they would head to the wilderness west of Denali for sheep hunting. The van would remain in Anchorage until they returned from camp.

I carried a lunchbox packed with frozen salmon.

When I arrived in Denver early the next morning, my family was already out fishing, and I had missed my connecting flight to Omaha. The next available flight would be eight hours later.

The salmon was melting. I was frantic. KFC wouldn’t hold my salmon in their refrigerator, neither would Burger King. I rushed to every restaurant. Finally, an airport bar let me use their freezer.

I’d love to drive to Alaska again. I’ve heard the Stewart-Cassiar Highway is even more beautiful than the Alcan. Had I been driving both ways, I would have returned to Omaha by the Cassiar.

I guess I’ll have to go back and do it again.

Cleaning Red Salmon

Doug and Martin finish cleaning the fish.

Martin showed me how to fillet salmon. I’d like more practice – especially if that means more fishing for these giant fish.

Step one: Slice it up.

Step two: Wrap it up. Fillets in freezer.

Step three: Bag it up. Remaining strips of meat go to the smoker.

Floating the Kenai River

From left: Brian (Martin’s son, my cousin), Doug (my uncle), Martin (my dad’s cousin, my uncle) Bob (my grandpa) – after the float trip

Martin took this one - thanks for the trip!

We fished the Kenai River, one of the best fishing spots in the world, in the middle of the red salmon run.

I caught one keeper - most of the fish were too far into the spawn for eating – but I didn’t count how many I pulled in total (although it was a tiny fraction of what Martin caught).

It took a couple hours driving from Anchorage, but when we finally got to the river's edge, we saw the clear water swarming with red sockeyes. After pulling in (and usually releasing) the 10-15 lb. beasts for about an hour, we loaded into the raft and floated/fished to where we had parked the second car.

Denali - Better View than I Deleted

We drove out of our way, looping north through Fairbanks, to visit Denali National Park. Denali offers some amazing backcountry camping options, where you can camp at the base of North America’s tallest mountain (sometimes referred to as “Mt. McKinley”).

The weather was soup during our summer drive through the area. Towering rock occasionally peeked through the clouds. But I never did see the peak. This is typical for the area in summer, Martin said. However, when it’s cold and clear in the winter, he said you can see the mountain from Anchorage.

We drove as far into the park as we could, but after a few miles, only special vans are allowed further into the wilderness to load and unload campers.

I’d love to take the day-trip in, and stay for a few weeks.

My father eventually caught his sheep on the western edge of the park.

Unfortunately, I accidentally deleted all my photos from between Delta Junction and Anchorage.

Delta Junction, AK - Milemarker 1,422 - The End of the Alcan

The Alaska-Canadian Highway officially terminates in Delta Junction, Alaska – 1,422 miles awary from the beginning in Dawson’s Creek, British Columbia.

The road was first built between March and October of 1942 as part of a U.S. defense project during WWII. We covered the same distance in less than a week (but we didn’t have to drain any marsh or cut a single tree…)

I had showered once (at the Pink Mountain Campsite and R.V. Park) since leaving Sandpoint Idaho. Maybe it’s obvious.

The final milemarker on the Alcan Highway is surrounded by kitsch.

Nearly every vehicle driving along the Alcan seems to be a R.V., camper or trailer. We did see some wild buffalo standing near the highway in Yukon, but none charged the road.

The biggest mosquitoes I’ve ever seen wait around to attack tourists.

Quonset Church

Three Quonset hut churches are immediately accessible on the Alcan Hwy. The U.S. military brought the huts to accommodate workers/soldiers during the highway’s construction. The name
“Quonset” comes from the hut’s initial location of manufacture – the naval construction yard at “Quonset Point” in Davisville, Rhode Island.

Our Lady of Grace Catholic Church in Beaver Creek, Yukon, demonstrates how the Quonset huts found new life after the completion of the Alcan Highway.

Wistful Landscape

For Joyce.

Rock Message

For Joni. My uncle Doug wrote his wife's name with rocks.

The Steel Flamingo

We stopped at one of the last decent looking streams in the Yukon before we entered Alaska (as soon as we crossed the border, our licenses became invalid).

My uncle found this abandoned lawn ornament - or whatever it is.

I called it the "steel flamingo." It served as our totem, which squatted at the entrance to our campsites, until we reached Anchorage.

Last Gas until the U.S.A

Gas is always more expensive on the edge of national parks, both in the U.S. and Canada. Gas is always even more expensive in Canada. Gas is most expensive when you have 108 kilometers to go from outside Canada's Kluane National Park on empty.

I’m guessing there are a lot of Canadians (tapped into the oil industry) who love the U.S. more than usual these days.

Mom and Cub Grizzlies, Kluane

While driving through the park, we pulled over on the road to watch mom and cub grizzly bears. I snapped these from the window.

Kluane is full of bears. If you go hiking and camping in the back country, you must bear-proof your trip. The Kluane Web site explains how to do so.

This cub frolicked and hopped all along the hill, a bouncing ball of fuzz. The mom plodded along, every so often stopping to yank roots from the ground.

The Kluane Icebox

Spawning Salmon

More Graylings!

In search of good waters, we drove south of Kluane National Park before we had to cut back north.

We found a decent looking stream, and as soon as my uncle cast in, he caught an arctic grayling. The water was full of small graylings and small rainbow trout. The trout were are a lot more fun to catch (graylings seem to give up and die as soon as they bite the hook); however, the only decent-sized fish that I caught were graylings.

I walked through the woods and found this bend in the stream. I cast a bit upstream and let my line run over a hole cutting through the bend.