An Alaskan Tradition: Moose Hunting

Just as we talk about apple pie being American, when one talks about what Alaskans do, moose hunting tops the list. Thus, when my uncle offered to take us moose hunting the other week, although I was up to my eyeballs in work, I jumped at the chance and rearranged my schedule to make it happen.

I was hoping for a gloriously sunny weekend--the type that just fills you up and makes the joy of being outdoors just well up and overflow. That was not to be. As we loaded up the 4-wheelers it began to drizzle and the evening got darker and more depressing. Although the weather was a downer, we were in good spirits, eager to see what the hunt would bring. Part of the challenge of loading was deciding where to put and how to carry all the guns. We had 2 pistols for bear protection and 3 rifles to maximize our chance of getting a moose (or encountering a bear and protecting the moose meat).

The first hour of 4-wheeling got us 8 miles down the trail. While it started out as this nice graveled road you see it pictured, it eventually deteriorated into a mucky, bumpy (!!) track. The final mile to our camp we got stuck 4 times. That is, my uncle in the lead got stuck 4 times. It took us 45 minutes to go the final mile. It was a relief to get there and get out of the rain, peel off the wet stuff and unpack our stuff. First we had to un-booby trap the cabin we were staying it. The outhouse was boarded up, barbed wired wrapped around the cabin, windows boarded up and sheet of nails in front of the door removed. You would think we were in New York City for all the protection, but bears wreak havoc on cabins. On this cabin a bear once ripped the boards off the windows to get inside to the food; thus the barbed wire addition.

Next morning dawned wet. Douglas and my uncle John were up at 5:30 and out the door by 6:00. They hiked up the trail a ways to a spot John knew the moose hung out. That morning they saw a few moose, but no legal ones. Legal has changed. In the past, any bull moose was fair game to kill, but now the bulls have to either have antlers smaller than a certain size, or over 50 inches. As anyone who has hunted knows, it is pretty hard to tell rack size when it's raining, just getting light, and the moose is a ways from you. It makes this game a lot harder since you have to get closer and be at the right angle to see the antlers. My uncle, a 40+ year veteran of Alaskan moose hunts, says it's not as fun this way, but that something needed to be done because there simply are not as many moose as there used to be, no matter what the officials say.

By 9:30 the guys were back to camp. The moose head upland at night and down to the lowlands in the morning and then hunker down all day. You could put in time during the day looking for tracks and signs of them, but it wouldn't be efficiently used time. So the guys ate breakfast and went back to bed, while the kids, my aunt Delores and I headed out berrypicking. The area we were in was ravanged by fire a few years ago, and last year there were no berry plants or berries, so we were tentatively hopeful. The area was splotchy, with some areas so burned there was no vegetation, and then we discovered a grand bed of blueberries. We picked for 2 hours, but with the wet bushes and wind our fingers were frigid so we finally gave it up.

The day was spent making food, taking naps, playing games, reading and talking. A little before 7:00 that evening Doug, John, Aurora and I headed out for the evening hunt. We were watching the lowlands, looking for moose heading up. We found a moose wallow, a bare patch of ground where a moose had rubbed the ground clear to the dirt, and set up watch nearby. At 9:15, after 2 hours of not seeing a single moose, we headed back to camp.

Next day dawned wet again. This time the guys came back at 9:30 in high spirits, talking and laughing about the moose they'd seen. A moose with a 30-ish inch rack had stood in the trail just 20 yards away from Doug--a perfect shot--but wasn't legal size so he had to pass it up. They saw 9 moose between them that morning; some they couldn't tell if they were legal while others were clearly cows.

Once again we headed up the hills to go berry picking, this time going right to the rich patch loaded with big, ripe blueberries we'd left behind yesterday. It wasn't raining, but the plants were wet and there was a strong wind blowing. The clouds were so low they obscured the top of the hills above us at times, and as we were heading out of the patch that day they got so low we couldn't see much around us. It was a good time to get back to the 4-wheelers and find the trail.

That evening we all took the 4-wheelers down the trail a ways at 5:00, hoping to get set up and catch the moose as they came up. The weather had cleared and it was now gloriously sunny and we had an incredible view of the the Alaska Range on one side, with Mt. Redoubt's small plume poofing up into the sky, and the Kenai Range on the other, with its snow-capped peaks. We split up into 2 groups, checking out different areas for trails and tracks and finally settling down by a water hole that had a well-worn animal track along it. Again, we saw no moose and the berries weren't plentiful in that area so it was a time of conversation and quietness.

The final morning the guys took the 4-wheelers out to get to their spot earlier. They saw 9 moose again, but they were on the move and too far away to tell size. It was too close to dawn, the the animals needed to be hunkered down somewhere before the sun rose. When the guys got back to camp we started packing up, cleaning out, re-booby trapping the cabin, a process that took several hours. Less than a half mile from camp, as we were 4-wheeling down the section of trail we'd gotten stuck in coming up, we saw this delightfully beautiful bear print. Aurora got back on the 4-wheeler and grabbed me tighter than she's grabbed me in a long time. We knew it was a fresh track because we'd just met some 4-wheelers coming in minutes before. Wow!

Reflections:
I wanted so badly to get a moose so that we could experience the whole process of moose hunting. My aunt and uncle actually process the moose themselves, cutting it up into steaks, grinding it into burger, etc. Moose hunting without a moose to take back was very disappointing, and even now, 2 weeks later, I am so disappointed I want to cry when I think about it.

What I loved about moose hunting was being out there. I can't say we were in the woods, because most of the trees were burned, and then much was above treeline anyways. Shall I say, "out in the wilderness?" It doesn't seem so wild now that I've been there. When we first got there on Thursday evening, I said to myself, "What's so special about this place?" But the beauty is like much of Alaska: a cold, ethereal hugeness that is hard to take in. It's so big, and so, so beautiful. And the beauty got inside me like a sliver and now I find myself wanting to go back. Moose or no moose, I want to tramp those hills and explore, pick berries, gaze at the mountains and hills, and reach and touch the sky. Yes, I gaze at the mountains and Kachemak Bay every day from my window, but there is something special about being out there in it, feeling the rhythms of the land and animals. Being there for the hunt made me look at the land differently--needing to be in tune with it rather than oblivious to it. I am so glad I carved the time out of my schedule to be there and experience this. It was a special time.

The end--an unusually warm day marked our departure, so our ride out was
much more comfortable than our ride in!

Girdwood, Alaska--Beautiful Village of Chalets

The only other time we've visited Girdwood, 30 minutes south of Anchorage, was at Christmas when we went downhill skiing at Alyeska Resort, and that is what really puts Girdwood on the map. Yet it is an achingly beautiful place in the summer too as Douglas and I found out this past weekend as we spent three days in one of the chalets on a retreat. Huge amounts of snow in the winter translate into much rain in the summer, so the area has a rain forest feel to it: huge pine trees dripping with moss, lush vegetation and thick moss covering rocks and tree trunks in the woods.

We had some time before our retreat started on Friday, so we headed down Crow Creek Pass Road to explore the area. Three miles down what felt like a deserted country road we came to the Crow Creek Mine. There was a campground there ($5 a night!), and the mine grounds were beautifully kept up and aesthetically appealing. A walking tour led from the blacksmith's shop at the entrance, up past the meat cache and mess hall to a miner's cabin. For a small fee they deck you out with miner's supplies and give you directions to Crow Creek where you dig up some gravel and then haul it to the sluice where you pan for gold--finders keepers! From 1898-1940, an average of 700 ounces of gold were mined here each month (the largest nuggest found was the size of a chicken's egg!) until production costs grew too great. According to a brochure, "It's estimated that more gold remains on the site than has ever been recovered!" The creek was excavated 200 feet, so there is now a gorge that the river rushes through, with the beginning of it pictured here.

The next gem we discovered in Girdwood was the Virgin Creek Falls (pictured at top of entry). It was perhaps a 1/4 mile or less hike from the trailhead to the falls, and the trail wound through a beautiful evergreen forest with moss as the predominate vegetation. However, I doubt we would have found this on our own. It is not marked from the main road; in fact, until you get to the end of a series of roads through town that lead to it and you see a small sign tucked in among the blueberry bushes, you don't even realize it is a trailhead. So we were glad that the group leaders chose this as one of our hikes for the weekend. It would be a wonderful place to go back to without a big group (there were 30 of us there!) and enjoy it in peace.

The final delight of the weekend (another group hike!) was a 3 mile hike that begins (or ends, depending!) at the Alyeska tram (the motorized one) at the base of Mt. Alyeska and ends over on Crow Pass Road near the Crow Creek Mine. The highlight of this hike is the hand tram where you get into a cage and pull yourself across the river which is 200 feet below. Or, if you are lucky, there is someone on one end or the other to pull you across, in which case you just enjoy the ride! Once the riders are across you pull the empty tram back and load it up again. With our large group it took quite some time to get everyone across, but it was great fun.

Even without the tram, the hike is one of the most beautiful I've been on in Alaska. The trail is mostly hard packed dirt, wide enough to walk side-by-side with one or two people. A few places were boardwalk, and since it had been raining for 4 days straight there were some muddy places that were easily skirted. The trees were huge, there was a plethora of mushrooms, and the sense was of being in a rain forest. I was busy chatting the whole time and hardly noticed the scenery, so this hike is on my list to go back to and really relish the area. By the way, there is a name for this trail, but I don't know what it is!

We drive by Girdwood every time we go to Anchorage, and while I thought it was a quaint ski village, I never realized it was so delightful in the summer as well. In walking through town (too strong a word, really), I was amazed at how many homes are tucked in at the base of Mt. Alyeska. Nearly all seemed to be chalets, log cabins, rustic and so delightful to look at in the winter when covered with snow. There is a long, nicely paved path from one end of Alyeska Resort to the other which we enjoyed a number of times over the weekend. I look forward to future trips to Girdwood for camping, hiking, and of course skiing, and am amazed that we've missed this gem until now!

Haying in Alaska

Since we've moved to Alaska, it has become a much-anticipated tradition to help my aunt and uncle with the haying each summer. They are in their late 60's and early 70's so don't throw haybales so well anymore, so they really appreciate our strong, young backs!

Haying happens once per summer on the Kenai Peninsula. It can range from the first week in July during a really hot year to well into August if the weather doesn't cooperate. This year the weather did not cooperate, so it resulted in weeks of anticipation that we were ready to drop whatever was going on to run to Ninilchik and help get the hay in. Although the weather in Homer is not always the same as 40 minutes up the road in Ninilchik, I noticed it was sunny Thursday and Friday and that they were haying in Homer, so I mentally counted the days: Cut on Friday, dry on Saturday and Sunday, bale on Monday. Sure enough, my uncle called Monday morning. As soon as I heard his voice I said, "We're ready to come down as soon as you need us! We're ready to hay!" The dew was heavy, and he didn't anticipate it drying off enough till late afternoon, so we got our bags packed for a quick take-off.

At 6:15 we finally got the call: we're haying! They'd gotten one load in by time we got there with a couple of young guys from California who were visiting as well as Kelli and Todd, their daughter and son-in-law. Two more loads and a couple hours later, 500 bales were in the barn. It was a relief to get some dinner (finally!), wash the sweat and grime off and rest our weary muscles. Heaving dozens of 40-60 lb. bales of hay around for hours is one workout that gets my heart rate up. In fact, one of my friends told me today that a guy near Ninilchik dropped dead of a heart attack in the middle of a field while haying yesterday. The more people on your team throwing bales the less stress on each person, and it can be more fun depending on who the group is.

The kids find haying a blast. Since they're both not quite strong enough to throw the bales up on the wagon they each got a turn driving the truck this, an essential role, but one that allows the more physically able to heave bales. Aurora did help unload the wagon in the barn since gravity helped do a lot of the work. They ride the top of the hay wagon, ride the bales as they come out of the baler, run around the field, swing from ropes high up in the hay barn and otherwise stay happily occupied.

This year, though it was a late crop, was average for this field. They got 905 bales off it. Last year they got a measly 710 bales, while 6 years ago was a whopper year with nearly 2000 bales from this field. So there was satisfaction that the horses would be fed for another winter, as well as relief that it was finally done and they could go on vacation. Until the hay is in, life is somewhat on hold, waiting to see what weather comes and if the window is large enough to get it all in.

People all over the world hay, but for us this has become part of our Alaska experience: something we never did in the Lower 48. As grueling as it can be, there is a sense of comraderie and fun. And like I mentioned when we were out there the other day: It's always sunny when you're haying!

HELP! Please Turn Over

By Michelle

As Denver and I were walking on Bishop's Beach this afternoon checking out the high tide flotsam and plethora of baby kelp bulbs, I noticed what looked like a rectangular piece of foam tucked in among the debris. I often pick up trash on the beach if it doesn't look too messy to carry in my pocket, and something about this piece of trash caught my eye. I turned it over and saw in big, bold letters, "HELP". I thought it was a prank, or something someone in a shipwreck might throw into the water. However, I turned it over and read the inscription on the other side: "This is a drift card for a current study of Seldovia Bay and its interaction with Kachemak Bay conducted by Seldovia Village Tribe. If you find this card please contact....and provide the following information: card number, date and time, distance and direction from Seldovia or Seldovia Point. If found in the water, release this card where you found it. If found stranded on the shore, dispose of this card properly." We thought that was pretty cool that we found this and actually picked it up to look at it. We headed back up to Islands and Ocean where Denver was going to the weekly Discovery Lab.

By Denver:

As I walked into Islands and Ocean I was feeling excited to be part of a current study. Soon I went into the Discovery Lab. After looking at a few of the stations, I told the attendant at a station about the drift card and she seemed pretty interested. She told me more about the card and told me it was for studying surface currents on the ocean. She got on the computer and showed me maps of their (Islands and Ocean's) drift card study and where the cards ended up. They print out the message and varnish it to a block of wood. It was interesting hearing the results of the experiment. They dropped 500 drift cards in a straight line at the other side of Kachemak Bay on the curve heading back down the Kenai Penisula. Surprisingly, only a couple cards landed in Kachemak Bay. The rest ended up in the Kenai River area. In another study drift cards were dropped by a high school girl who made 1000 drift cards and threw them out in a straight line right before the curve across Kachemak Bay. She thought they would all end up in Kachemak Bay but she was wrong! Almost all of them ended up in the Alueutian Islands area and only 3 were found in Kachemak Bay. Her study showed there was a surface current that nobody ever knew about. It was fun being part of a cool study and learning more about the ocean that I live by. I would like to do a study with drift cards too.

Buying a House in Homer

After renting a house for two years, we finally decided to take the plunge and become homeowners again. However, the decision to do so was easier than finding a house that we all would be happy with. Living 30 minutes out of town became quite a drag the past 6 months as our kids got more involved in sports, my husband began playing basketball again, and I yearned to be closer to friends and activities. So it was a no-brainer choosing a place closer to Homer, but how close was the question. I wanted to be within a few miles of town, while Douglas, who was going to have a long drive to work once we moved, wanted to be a bit further out. Location helped narrow our search, as of course price does.

Prices made us cringe: our $130,000 house in Michigan would easily be double that or more here in Homer. Homes with a view of Kachemak Bay seemed to be a good $20-$30 K more than places whose view was obstructed by trees. All but one place we looked at had a view of the bay, though some better than others.

Without housing code here, homes tended to be built haphazardly by whomever, without thought for future owners, logic or quality. Most 3 bedroom homes we looked at were in the $275,000-$300,000 range, on about one acre, and were in crummy shape, needing many repairs to get them comfortable and livable. We were still burnt out on home improvements from our house in Michigan so we had no desire for a fixer-upper.

Our Realtor patiently showed us house after house, not censoring them too much. Nearly all of the houses we looked at were empty, some having gone into foreclosure and others the owners had to leave Alaska for family issues, health issues or jobs. Many had been on the market as long as two years, and without any care, were pretty ragged looking. In some we could see potential, but many were so bizarre we couldn't see living there. Our son liked the strange houses, and our daughter wanted to be close to friends and hoped for climbing trees. I wanted a greenhouse and garden, while my husband thought having a workshop would be a treat.

Amazingly, we found a place that fit nearly all these specs, but not until we expanded our search to 2-bedroom homes that might have an extra room that could be converted into a bedroom. The house we found is within walking distance of my daughter's best friend, with enough weirdness to please our son, a greenhouse and raised bed garden with tons of flowers for me and a heated workshop for my husband, and yet in move-in condition. The price was out of our range, but after two years the seller was ready to sell and came down on the price enough to be within our price range, so we have become proud homeowners.

Part of my heart is still up at the end of East End Road. I left friends up there, and I will miss the wide open spaces and privacy of no neighbors within earshot, the long season of snow skiing and snowshoeing from my door, the pond down the drive, all the horses, and the tremendous views of Portlock and Dixon Glaciers. My tradeoff is that now I sit up in bed and see the Homer Spit and ships on the bay, I have a more workable yard (it's mine!), we will have leaves to rake and will get fall colors on the ridge above our home (yellow aspen), and our drive to town does not involve taking a cooler full of food and clothes for an entire day of unknown weather changes.

It is great fun to be able to plan changes for house and yard--to own where we live once again. The kids have discovered ripe strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and watermelon berries right in our yard, and there are many nooks and crannies for them to explore in the house, outbuildings and yard. Best of all, they have had playdates galore. For us, our new place came with a guest cottage, so we are hopeful for company! After all this, I have realized that no "place" can make us happy, and yet people are the joy that keep our lives fresh and meaningful, so our prayer for our home is that it be a source of love and good company.

Right Beach--Camping Across the Bay

Heading out of the Homer Harbor. Our destination is straight ahead where the boats are.
We hadn't planned on a camping trip so soon after returning from our vacation, but when my aunt and uncle invited us across the Bay, we couldn't resist the opportunity so we packed up our camping gear (again!) and prepared for the journey! In my uncle's boat and smooth waters, it can take as little as 16 minutes to speed across Kachemak Bay to Halibut Cove. Right Beach where we camped is like an island at high tide since rock pillars at each end of it hem it in, and cliffs and bluffs covered with Devil's Club back it up.

Our weekend started with a glorious, sunny day on Friday and loading up the boat at the Homer dock, one of those incessantly busy places in the summer. Six of us were going over on Friday, and another 7 of our party were going to come over on Saturday. The water was fairly smooth so the ride over was a fast one, and then we had the challenge of unloading the 2 kayaks, stoves, tents, sleeping bags, pads, food and various other miscellany. Once the pile was on shore, we started hauling it up and deciding where to put up tents, where to have the fire, etc. It was so hot kids were swimming on the beach when we got there (there was already a large party already camping at the beach in the yurt and tents), and that's what we wanted to do too once camp was set up. However, soon enough the wind blew up and it got chilly and we were donning our warmer weather gear.

The first evening as we were sitting around the fire a harbor seal came walking (wrong word: waddling? scootching?) out of the water across the beach towards us, checking us out and obviously very curious. It was so neat (sorry--no picture!), and throughout the weekend we would see a seal pop up by shore every few hours, look at us, then swim away, but it never came out of the water again.

The second day was overcast but the water was calm and still so we took turns going out in the kayaks. Heading further into Halibut Cove the rock formations were fascinating, looking like lava rocks that had been twisted into bizarre contortions. When the rest of the party arrived midday, we had lunch and then headed into Halibut Cove with everyone on board the boat to the Grewingk Glacier trailhead. A quick 2 mile (maybe not even that) hike got us to the glacier lake where we threw rocks, ate snacks and tried to stay warm as a nippy wind blew off the glacier and it began to rain. Some of us decided to take the "long" hike back (Glacier Spit Trail, then a mile on the beach), and hope the tide was still far enough out to walk back to our campsite. It was an easy hike, completely flat, following the historic path of the glacier. We'd seen plenty of berry-filled bear scat along the trail, so we talked loudly to warn of our presence.

The highlight of this trip for Denver was the "cave" on one end of the beach. He borrowed dad's headlamp and made excursions into it (all 15 feet!), identifying popcorn, stalactites and other features learned from the cave tour we took near Butte, Montana this summer. Denver gave official "tours" of the cave to everyone who would walk down the beach with him to visit it.

After much camping in the Lower 48 this summer, we deeply appreciated the lack of what I call the "ickies": no wood ticks, no snakes, no mosquitoes and no flies. It makes camping so much more pleasant to not have to look out for these things, though of course bear are the "biggie" that we watch out for here (give me one bear we can scare away with our noise over a zillion mosquitoes any day!).

While we didn't yurt-it, this looks like a great option, though a tad pricey at $65/night. This yurt at Right Beach had 3 double beds, a woodstove, portable propane cookstove and, out back, an outhouse with no door. For that kayak trip along this area, a yurt would provide a dry, warm night if it is rainy or cold!

10,000 mile road trip adventure….and the Alaska Highway

Two years ago when we drove our U-Haul 4000 miles from Michigan to Alaska, my husband swore never to do that again. Since then we’ve been on the Alaska Highway 4 more times, and our trip this summer takes the cake. We decided to swing down to Vancouver, pop in at Yellowstone, then visit family and friends throughout the Midwest while taking in a few sights, all of which was to be topped off by that 4000 mile drive home. People kept asking us, “Why don’t you just fly down there and rent a car?” Why, indeed? It didn’t quite hold the appeal of the journey, and we had the time. There were places on the AK Hwy we’d wanted to visit on previous trips that we hadn’t had time to see. To gain the kids' support we gave them a budget to plan the fun activities on the trip and they researched online and decided where they wanted to go. June 5 was our big day: the beginning of the journey!

Traversing the Alaska Highway is a very Alaskan thing. North of Haines Junction in the Yukon, 85% of the traffic is American, which is why the U.S. paid millions of dollars to Canada for road improvements in that area. Here are a few snippets of my observations, culled from this trip and others on the Alaska Highway.

The road: Frost heaves are still there and they’re still really bad in the Yukon Territory north of Haines Junction and also on the Tok Cutoff in Alaska. RVs and fifth wheels were passing us regularly early in the day out of Haines Junction, but once we hit the frost heaves we passed them all. I would much rather be doing this in a car than a big rig since a car can fly over them as opposed to creep over them. Yet the road was much improved from even 2 years ago when we drove our UHaul over it. There was less gravel this time than on previous trips (20 miles or so is our rough estimate), and besides the risk of a cracked windshield and the annoyance of the dust, the gravel road is in better shape than the frost heaves.

Road construction: A number of large road building projects have been completed in the past few years, and there were only a few isolated spots that we were delayed by road construction, 30-40 minutes of delay between all of them the entire trip. Contrast that with the 1 ½ hours we were delayed at Kluane Lake last summer—and that was just one of many.

Wildlife: We saw at least a dozen black bear, a mother grizzly and her cub, stone sheep beyond counting, a family of Dall sheep, moose, caribou, elk, and bison. Nearly all the wildlife was between Ft. Nelson and Watson Lake besides the grizzly, which was seen near midnight as we neared Haines Junction. I believe the bear were displaced by the forest fires, which is why we saw so many on the way down and only one on our return trip. One caribou did not want to get off the road because it was so busy licking it, and the bear we saw were scarfing the flowers at an amazing rate (video below).

Gas: It is crazy how expensive gas is ($4.50 gallon), and twice on this trip we got so low our gas light went on, and that was in mid-Canada before we even reached the AK Hwy! We learned our lesson and didn’t let our tank get below half the rest of the trip if we could help it. Besides the rare town, gas stations are small operations where the owners live right there and are scraping by. I told one lady who was pumping our gas at a station how much I appreciated all these small gas stations and how I was amazed they could make it. The lady replied that she was going to have to close. I could sense the pain that statement gave her; this is her livelihood: providing gas and care for travelers on the Highway. It is a tough life, as evidenced by the number of gas stations that are shut down along the way, including some that we gassed up at just a couple years ago. Tourism is way down, and time and again we commented on how deserted the road was (which made for a speedier trip and less stress, but I ache thinking of how business owners must be hurting).

Adventure: We had planned to take the western route down the Cassiar Highway, cutting off 129 miles from our journey, but at Junction 37 where we were to turn we saw a sign saying, “37 closed due to mudslide.” I was very bummed because this highway follows the continental divide down through British Columbia and is incredibly beautiful (no, I wouldn’t necessarily say all of the Alaska Highway is beautiful—much is very boring). So we had to go straight on down the AK Hwy towards Dawson Creek. Just as we began looking for a campground I noticed a haze and commented, “I’ll bet that’s smoke from the forest fire.” I opened the window and smelled and sure enough, it was smoke.” The AK Hwy was closed the day before we started our trip due to forest fires, so the next village we got to we pulled off and asked if the highway were still open. There were fire trucks all around the buildings and men standing there, waiting for the fire to come, since it was heading that way, as is obvious from the picture shown here. The highway was still open so we pushed on. For 25-30+ miles the trees were burnt along the road. We saw fires still burning, and the smoke was pretty bad, though not reducing visibility. We had our masks in the vehicle from expecting Mt. Redoubt to blow, so we just put them on and that took care of that problem! When we reached Liard River Hot Springs, the first campground past the burn area, the campground was full. The campground host kindly let us set up in the day use area (pictured below). Firefighters were pouring into the parking lot in droves, getting out and walking back to the hot springs for their bath/break, then back to the front.

Hot springs: Near Whitehorse we paid $20 to swim in a hot springs pool at the campground we stayed at. It was basically a swimming pool with hot spring water. At Liard River Hot Springs pictured here there was a deck built along one side of the springs with steps leading in, but the rest of it was the natural bottom and banks covered with lush vegetation. It didn’t cost anything and is open 24 hours a day. It was an ethereal, beautiful place—an incredible gem. It soothes me just to think of it. The kids loved it because it was just the right depth for swimming (chest high), and they could choose the temperature of the water they wanted by walking further away from the incoming water.

Adventure of a different sort (are we crazy?): At our last stop in Michigan before we headed back to Alaska my friend Lorraine had a cat we all fell in love with. She was happy to give him a new home, so we had a cat with us in the car for the drive back to Alaska. It could have been bad, but luckily it wasn’t. The cat sat in laps, slept on the floor by the kids’ feet, wandered calmly around the car and used the kitty litter when needed. At night he slept in the tent with the kids. The vet had given us some relaxants which we gave him starting on the 3^rd day, partly because we were driving so long, and partly because the frost heaves bothered him. Seymour is a great addition to our family, and we have a fun story to tell about getting him.

Long haul: from Michigan it took 3 days of hard driving (12-14 hour days) to get to the beginning of the Alaska Highway in Dawson Creek. Then we really started to pour it on and did 16 hour days, and we made the entire 4000 miles in 5 days.

Journal: I kept a notebook on the dashboard and jotted down notes throughout the day: animals seen, interesting sights, reactions, etc. Already I have referred to it a number of times as I needed a reminder of where we were on what day or wondering about charges on our credit card. I highly recommend this! I also wrote notes in my Mileposts Magazine, adding to their account of the highway.

Sanity (How did we keep the kids happy?): I borrowed “The Complete Sherlock Holmes” from a friend before we left and I read aloud to the family for many, many hours, building up my vocal strength as the trip went on. I was halfway through the last story, The Hound of the Baskervilles, when we arrived home Monday. Reading kept Doug alert driving and the kids mentally occupied trying to figure out the mysteries. Games, the camera, the calculator, and the notebook all kept the kids happily occupied on our iPhones for hours. Aurora had her brain puzzlers book and Denver had some legos he had bought on the trip which kept each of them content. And we had our moments of conversation, sing-alongs (We had great fun with Alaska Highway jingles we made up) and, lest you think this was a perfect vacation, arguments (wouldn’t be a family vacation without them, right?!).

Sanity (How did we keep us happy?): I don't recommend 10,000 mile road trips with kids, a cat, lots of relatives and new places every day as a form of marriage therapy. But we had our tent and the kids had theirs, and as long as I was reading I wasn't watching the road, which was a good thing for a backseat driver like me! Ironically, we celebrated our 16th wedding anniversary on Monday, the day we arrived home after 5 weeks in the car. Hey, one really appreciates home after a trip like this!!

Glitches: There were none. Considering the length of this trip, it blows me away that we are home safe and the worst things that happened were a screw embedded in our tire (no flat; got it pulled out and repaired in 15 minutes) and small crack in our windshield (an AK Hwy special). We were healthy and the heat wave in the Midwest was the most annoying part of the trip (Ok, I’m glossing over the traffic through Chicago and the traffic jam outside of Anchorage on the return trip).

On returning to Alaska: I’d begun to take the beauty around us here in Alaska for granted. After 10,000 miles, the drive along the Seward Highway south of Anchorage took my breath away. Of our whole trip, I think this is the most beautiful place. I really do love it. And yet I appreciate the beauty that is special to each place--even Minnesota corn fields. More than the beauty of the land is the comfort of people. We went on this trip in part because I was missing my family and friends in the Lower 48 and needed to reconnect with them. It fills my heart to overflowing to think of all the love, companionship, and warm fuzzies of this trip. People were so kind, wanted to give us things, wanted to hear about our lives and share their own. It has helped me reestablish my place in this world, and that is priceless.

Do it again? My curiosity is piqued. What is the Alaska Highway like in the winter? I really want to know. I don’t think my family wants to know, though. Maybe this will be one of those urges that goes away….