Our Alaskan Adventure Part 2: The Sights

Alaska is many things. Besides huge, that is. Although, yes, it is indeed massive. It's over twice the size of Texas. And when you super-impose it over 'the lower 48', it stretches all the way from coast to coast. It's so big, it's somehow the Northernmost, the Westernmost AND the Easternmost points in the U.S. (part of it extends into the Eastern Hemisphere) But, Alaska is more than just some gigantic mass.  

It is diverse. More than we expected it to be. But I guess when your state is 1/5^th the size of the rest of the United States, there is room for variances. And Alaska definitely has them. Breathtaking views. Wild forests. Mountains. Glaciers. Coastlines. 

Alaska is many things, and we wanted to see them all. 

 

Alaska is icy.

If you asked most people to describe Alaska is 3 words, odds are, most will mention the ice and snow that is indicative of the region. Didn't we all think, as kids, that Alaska was nothing but ice? A giant snowy land where everyone lived in igloos and rode dog sleds everywhere...? 

Actually, that place sounds kind of cool. But, indeed that is not really Alaska. Not really. 

 

Byron Glacier, Girdwood, AK

Exit, stage right

That's not to say there isn't any ice in the 49^th state. There is. Tons of it. 5% of the state is covered by glaciers and active glacial fields. And 5% of Alaska is a lot (in case you forgot how big I just said Alaska was).

Glaciers are important to the whole region, and Alaska's glaciers are important to everyone. Alaska has more than half all of the glaciers in the entire world. Over 100,000 of them to be accurate. With that many, we had to go see a few.

In the Kenai Mountains, south of Anchorage lies one of the most accessible valley glaciers in the state. Exit Glacier, was named when the first successful mountaineering party crossed the Harding Icefield and exited down this glacier to the town of Seward below. In recent years, Exit Glacier has become known for it's rapid glacial melt, and is often cited as a one of the most noticeable effects of global climate change. 

That's some dense ice.

Where do urinal cakes come from? Glaciers.

Not really. But the glacial ice sure looks to be the right shade of blue. That's what happens to ice when it gets really dense. Years of compression force out any air pockets between the ice crystals making it so compact. When this happens, the ice only absorbs a small amount of red light, leaving a bluish tint in the reflected light. The results are beautiful.

Alaska is wet.

 

Now, we're no traveling dummies. We know a few things. (I mean, we have a blog and everything!) We know that the only time to go to the land of the midnight sun, is summer. And even though their version of summer is nowhere near ours, it does get decently warm. Warm enough to melt ice anyways. And it does. Every year. All that melting glacial ice, it has to go somewhere, right? It does. It flows. Downhill mostly. And in it's wake, the melting ice leaves an insane amount of waterways.

12,000 rivers. That seems like a lot, right? It is. But, not when you compare that number to the ridiculous number of lakes.

3 million lakes. Yes, million. (Nice try, Minnesota) The rivers and lakes amount to 40% of the surface water in the United States. That's a lot.

Metal Death Cage

Our first experience with the waterways of Alaska was our hike to the Girdwood hand tram. The trail lead us a couple miles into the woods and eventually to a self powered tram. We pulled ourselves, a few at a time, across the gorge, over what they called a stream. A raging stream. Through a steep canyon. In a metal death cage. 

It was awesome.

 

 

We had crossed a raging stream, and now were ready to take on something bigger.  Up next, a rafting trip down the Kenai River. With my brother-in-law piloting the 6 person craft, we floated down the swift moving, but wide river. We stopped along the way to fish for salmon from the shoreline. Minutes turned to hours as the river rushed by. We fished. We sat. We had a fire. The incredibly long twilight allowed us to stay out into the night. By the time we floated out, it was finally dark.

10:00 PM approx.

We had lots of hopes of things we wanted to do while in Alaska. Swimming, outside, was nowhere on that list. Yet, somehow we managed to get that done too. While up north, on our second weekend, it reached in to the 80s. My sister said it was the warmest she had even seen it since she lived there. It was sunny and clear. We were in the right place to check out one of the 3 bazillion lakes in Alaska. And, as a bonus, it was totally warm enough for the kids to swim. So swim they did. We hiked. They swam. We soaked in the sun. They swam. It was bliss for everyone.

Alaska is lush.

This is the one that surprised us the most. Alaska is really green. Plants are abundant. Not just pine trees, either. Tons of plants. Of all kinds. Everywhere. I suppose we are just used to mountain areas being more dry, less lush. But, Alaska is different.

I guess when it rains a lot, water is plentiful, and the sun is out for 20 hours a day, things tend to grow. Even though their warm season is short, it packs a serious punch. They get like a hyper-version of spring and summer, where everything grows like crazy, gets really big, and then just as quickly it goes away. 

 

Everywhere we went there we flowers. Wild flowers. Potted flowers. The famous Alaska Fireweed. Surprising pops of yellow and purple and pink dotted nearly every landscape we saw. 

An unexpected treat.

One hike took us into what felt like a rain forest. There were huge ferns all over. Plants with enormous leaves. Thick moss. Turns out, the area was indeed labeled a 'temperate rain forest'.

Just south of my sister's house was an area known as Potter's Marsh. This freshwater marsh, nestled between the foot of the mountains and the sea, is an animal sanctuary and ideal wildlife watching spot. This marsh is home to tons of migratory birds, and other mammals, A wooden boardwalk winds through the marsh with observation decks and binoculars aplenty. 

Alaska is coastal.

Alaska has more coastline than the entire rest of the United States combined. Over 33,000 miles of shoreline all told. And its coastal areas are no different than the rest of the state. They are also quite diverse.

Anchorage itself is technically a coastal town, sitting on the Cook Inlet that eventually dumps into the Pacific Ocean. But Anchorage's shoreline isn't conducive to typical marine activities. Because of all the silt in the water from the glaciers, the coastline in and around Anchorage is a boggy, muddy mess. Boats can't sail up and down the inlet. No marinas. No tour boats. But lots and lots of mud. When the tide was out, the wet and sloppy silt became the perfect messy play thing for our kids. They squished around in the stuff all afternoon. They even came up with 57 practical uses for this gooey muck. 
Not a hyperbole. 

57 uses.  Lotion. Hair gel. Makeup.

They listed them. 

All 57.

Repeatedly.

Use No. 32: Mud Bombs. Incoming!

Around the bend from mud beach, at the tip of Anchorage lies yet another landscape, some towering sand dunes. On a different messy day (in which we also didn't care what our kids were wearing) they jumped and leaped and ran barefoot through the dunes. They buried each other up to their heads. We picked sand out of the hair for days. 

Beluga Point

Worth it.

As we drove further south, down towards the Kenai peninsula, the shorelines changed. Now boulders and cliff outcroppings dotted the coast. These spots, which still had silt and mud below them, were perfect for exploring, staring at the sea, and taking amazing photos.  

We still hadn't seen the typical coastal area one thinks of, until we made it all the way down the peninsula to the town of Seward. Following our late night floating on the Kenai River, we drove to the sea town and spent the night in the marina, inside the Driver's sailboat. 

The next morning, Captain Craig took us out into the busy harbor. It was filled with guided fishing tour boats. Sail boats. Cruise ships. All of them came and went from the town named for the man who bought Alaska. This harbor was bustling, as we set sail and pointed towards the gulf. The sails were full. It was windy. The sea was choppy. Then... there was engine trouble. And even though we were powered by the wind, Capt. Craig didn't feel comfortable going on without a working backup engine. So, we headed back. 

 

Too brief an excursion for some, but still long enough for others to get seasick. (nudge, nudge Haley)

Don't hit the giant cruise ship, Cap'n.

Alaska is friendly. 

Cheers, Alaska.

Alaska has the lowest population density in the United States. Mostly cause it's huge. But also because a lot of the state is simply uninhabitable. There is one person for every square mile in Alaska. If New York City had the same density of people, there would only be 16 people in Manhattan. I bet parking would still suck, though.

Where we went never felt that sparse. It did feel immense, but almost never desolate of people. Probably because the population of the state doubles every summer for tourist season. Stupid tourists. They ruin everything. I mean, not us, of course. We're cool. We have a blog. 
But everyone else. Geesh...

That being said, nearly everyone we met our entire trip were the nicest people. They all made their towns, their restaurants, their attractions that much more memorable for us.

 
People sill actively mine for gold in Alaska. The state's big gold rush happened in the mid 20th century. But, even today there are profits to be made from digging valuable metals out of the ground.

We stopped at what I was sure was going to be a tourist trap, Indian Valley Mine, to 'pan for gold' as they promised.

As it turns out, it was exactly as advertised. A place to pan for real gold, and have fun doing it. This stop, run by a husband and wife for decades, bought piles of dirt from active gold mines. We bought some containers of this potential treasure, and set to work panning. The owners patiently and gently showed all the kids how to extract the valuable stuff from the dirt. They all got the hang of it, and after an hour of mining, they each took home a pretty good haul of gold, amethysts, garnet, and copper. A great stop run by great people.

We're gonna be rich!

Talkeetna Fireweed

 

Going in to our final weekend, with the weather looking promising, we decided to head back up north and check out the town of Talkeetna. This quaint and charming village lies just south of Denali State Park and is a jumping off point for mountain climbers, airplane tours, and river guides. Said to be the inspiration for 'Northern Exposure' this town is no hidden gem. No, instead it is one of the most popular places for tourists in the summer. The influx of people do not take away from this town's charm, however. They almost add to it. We spent two days in Talkeetna. Shopping. Hiking. Hanging out. Listening to music. And really, just loving this town. 

It was one of of favorite stops the entire trip. I mean, they have famously had a cat as their mayor the last two decades. How bad a place could it be?

Mayor Stubbs (II)

One other thing helped the allure of Talkeetna. There was it's promise of amazing views. 

You see, Talkeetna is also known for being a great place to see Denali...

Alaska has tall mountains.

The Great One

We can't even sarcastically utter 'allegedly' when we say that any more. Now we know Denali is real. 

We saw it. With our own common 70% eyes.

The clear skies held, and the view of the mountain from the riverside park in Talkeetna was simply amazing. 

 

It was well worth the return effort.

We were now the elite.

The upper crust.

The chosen few.

We were now official members of the 30% Club.

Screw you 70 percenters.

Now it just feels like we're showing off.