27/50: Alaska

We could have stuck to the 48 continental United States, but that wouldn’t have felt right. But at the same time, it’s no easy feat to drive to Alaska. There are “military roads” that can get you there, but it would have been a 2,200+ mile drive that would take more than 48 hours. So instead, we opted to fly from Seattle and rent a car on Turo.

We got in well after midnight and were supposed to stay with the Veteran participant of our Alaska project. We drove to their house outside of Anchorage, but the house was dark. We knocked, texted, and called, but no answer. It was after 2 am, and we had no place to sleep. So we figured we’d just get a cheap hotel for the night — easier said than done. We called every hotel in the Anchorage area, and everyone was booked. It turns out tourists like us love to visit Alaska in the summer. There was one hotel with a room, but it was near the airport. It was the most run-down piece of shit motel I’ve ever seen. It was so stereotypically bad that it looked like a movie set. But not just a movie set, an abandoned and run-down movie set. We had no other option. While checking in, we heard gunshots that sounded very close by. We quickly learned that Alaska has a very high crime rate. With that being said, we deadbolted every lock possible and piled furniture in front of our door as we slept in our clothes and tried not to touch anything.

We woke up early and eager to get out the following day and enjoyed a much-needed breakfast at Snow City Cafe before heading to our Veteran’s house after she woke up to our missed calls and security footage of us standing on her front doorstep hours earlier. After some good laughs, more coffee, and getting settled, she and her husband recommended some good half-day drives to get our first taste of wild Alaska: the Frontier State.

It didn’t take us long driving down Highway 1 before we spotted two moose in a field across the road. A bit further down the road, we crossed the Alaska Train rails to see a couple of bald eagles chilling in the low tide of the Turnagain Arm fjord. Already on Day 01, Alaska was living up to the hype.

After our STATE 27: AK project days at the Anchorage Museum, we headed north on the only highway that went north. We made a pitstop for a beautiful hike in Fishhook that our Veterans suggested we do — and we’re thankful we took their local advice.

As hang gliders soared above us in the clouds, we hiked up the cliffs as the Winter snows continued to melt, streaming down the rocky mountainside from a small snowpack melt pond above us.

After stretching our legs and filling our lungs with fresh mountain air, we continued a couple of hours north toward Denali National Park. It was terrific to get peeks of the peaks as we got closer. We’re used to seeing clouds in the distance and mistaking them for mountains in Michigan, so it was pretty surreal to see the top of North America coming into our viewing range.

We were extremely fortunate even to see the top of Denali because, at 20,310 feet of elevation, it usually has its own weather patterns and often is clouded over. We overheard some folks talk about how this was the first time they’d ever seen the mountain after they’d been coming to Alaska for years now.

After soaking up the insane mountain, forest, and river views of the Alaskan range, we pulled into our little Byers Creek Lodge rustic cabin Kendra found on AirBnB just within the 6 million acres of Denali National Park & Preserve.

There was no bathroom, shower, or kitchenette in the cabin, but just across the lawn was the main house with the needed amenities. But if you wanted the actual off-the-grind experience, I’m sure there are plenty of options: www.airbnb.com.

In July in Alaska, the sun doesn’t set until 11:36 PM to rise again hours later at 4:20 AM. Not knowing if I’d ever get the opportunity to be back at Denali, I set my alarm for 4 AM so I could catch the sunrise hitting the highest peak on our continent.

Kendra opted for the warm bed, which was no surprise to either of us.

It was amazing to watch and listen to the wilderness wake up. The sounds of birds chirping, the distant echo of water rushing, and the calm wisp of the wind engulfed me in some nice quiet moments to myself. It was special to look at the highest peak on our continent, which was a severe contrast to the lowest elevation we struggled to breathe in at Death Valley in Nevada.

The sunrise was so early that I had time to return to the cabin and climb into bed for some snuggles and a little more shut-eye. We didn’t sleep long, though, because we had a full day ahead of us in the park, starting with visiting the Denali park sled dogs.

The unique thing about Denali National Park is that it is more of a preserve than a visitor park. Similar to Alaska, it’s extremely wild and meant to remain that way without human interference.

The public road only goes 15 miles into the park. Beyond that, you’d have to take a bus deeper into the park, which requires more time and planning than we could afford. Instead, we spent much of the afternoon enjoying the Savage River Loop Trail and a few other short hikes around the Visitor Center.

If/when we return, I’d love to do more extensive hikes and treks, including taking an airplane flight-seeing tour. I’m putting that one on my bucket list, for sure.

There are not very many highways in Alaska. There’s one highway that goes North-to-South (Highway 3) and another one that goes East-to-West (Highway 1). We drove over 6 hours from the highest peak at Denali to the sea-level port city of Seward, and we may have covered a third of the state —- Alaska is THAT big.

We stayed at the little FireWeed AirBnB cabin and wanted to get the coastal experience of Alaska to balance out our inland mountain journey. So we woke up early the first morning to visit Exit Glacier at Kenai Fjords National Park.

It was special and sad to walk out on the wash plain of an ancient glacier slowly yet quickly receding up the valley it once carved out while its water flowed past us. We couldn’t help but wonder how long these rocks and silt were trapped within the glacier.

The closer we got, the louder it creaked and moaned as meltwater flowed beneath it. Also, the closer we got, the more hits of the blue we could see between the waves of silt and soil lines left behind from its snail-like wake.

As we walked, we kept seeing stakes in the ground with years on them, marking how long it reached in years past. In 1815, the glacier was at its max. Then it slowly began retreating at about 3ft. per year. But with climate change, that rate has dramatically accelerated to retreat a terrifying 300ft. in 2016.

If you want to see it, you ought to make a trip soon. Who knows how long it will be here. And when you come (or next time I do), the Harding Icefield Trail looks like it’d be a heck of a day hike. Bookmark that one and come in shape and well-prepared.

There’s nothing better after an early morning of adventuring than a hearty breakfast. So we wandered hungrily into Seward and found The Smoke Shack, a converted rail car turned diner. While we filled our bellies, we searched and planned for what we’d do next…

Being a port city, there are boats everywhere for every occasion: commercial and charter fishing boats, leisure yachts and sailboats, and glacier tour boats.

We looked up boat tour options and the weather, neither of which Kendra wanted to do because being on a boat with so many strangers and on rough seas did not sound appealing to her. However, she knew I really, really wanted to do it, so she walked me down the docks to get a ticket and board the Kenai Fjords Tours cruiser.

It was a good thing Kendra didn’t come because the seas were extremely rough. It was cold, raining/snowing, and everyone around me was throwing up and sick. I’m unsure how I kept my breakfast down, but I willed it as best as possible.

I did feel bad because Kendra would have LOVED to see the wildlife portion of the tour: seals, otters, puffins, and even the occasional whale sightings.

The 6-hour Kenai Fjords National Park tour drove us out of Seward, around Aialik Cape, and deep into Aialik Bay, where we met the dead-end at the mile-wide Aialik Glacier breaking off into the ocean below. The color was like an artificial fresh mint blue. As the boat got closer, moving past the glacier debris floating out to sea, you could hear the deep moans of this arm of the Harding Icefield stretching, moving, and breaking off in loud cracks and splashes.

It was a beautiful rude awakening to the climate change our world faces as I watched one large piece break away after another. I marveled at the size, weight, and noise of this moving wall crumbling down before me.

After a few days in Seward, we made our way northward towards Anchorage to fly back to the continental U.S., but first, we stopped along the road for a fresh drink of ice-cold water at the Freshwater Spring.

The pipe sticking out of the granite cliff was initially installed by the D.O.T. to relieve pressure from an underground spring, allowing it to pass harmlessly under the highway and out into the Turnagain Arm.

It was the purest, coldest, and most refreshing water we’d ever tasted. No wonder locals would fill 5-gallon tubs of it to have at home. It’s how water should be, not pre-bottled in plastic and marketed on store shelves. BYOB: Bring Your Own Bottle. Luckily, we had our [HAS HEART] water bottle with us :)

Our final stop before our late-night flight back to Seattle was the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center, which rescues and rehabs native wildlife. It was a great way to safely watch the Alaskan wildlife to conclude our introduction to the final frontier.