Gracious House Lodge

June 25th

Good-bye and thank you, Clearwater Creek. As we headed westerly on the Denali Hwy., the
smoke haze was lifting, which was evidenced by the clearer sight of the brown-topped Alaskan
Range mountains, which have been so camouflaged until today. The further west we head,
there are sparse boreal forest trees of black and white spruce gathering more thickly amidst the
low green tundra. Kettle lakes and creeks still follow us through this last leg of the highway
before Denali Park by Saturday.

Into about an hour, I wanted to stop at the Gracious House Lodge, for their touted homemade
pies, and then a sign for cinnamon rolls. Another sign directed us to honk for service, which we
didn't have to do, since one of the owners was on her out to the cafe-bar. Turned out to be a
very pleasant visit with Carol, the owner with her husband Butch (his family opened this
multirecreational and services lodge in 1957, and he and Carol are now 72, putting it up for sale).
She said business is down 95%, and usually, in June, they would be serving large groups huge
meals, e.g. Wells Fargo employees, outfitters, and now there are none currently nor on the
books. Just lights for the 11.5 acred lodge, is $150/day, so the bar-restaurant stayed dimly lit
while we devoured our scrumptious warm cinnamon rolls with freshly lathered-on cream cheese
icing.

Butch had bypass surgery five months ago, so retirement beckons to them. They have a home
in Yuma, as well, so a more relaxed time in life is desired and needed. Their grandson was
spotted riding on an ATV as we approached, and then disappeared. Carol is proud of this
young man, a student at Johns Hopkins, in astrophysics and business, who has been spending
much of his summers with them, loving this wild Alaskan home of his grandparents, and having
been raised a city boy back east. Mark left a generous tip, which Carol placed in a tiny jar for
her grandson---a token something for helping out. She gave us a real estate flyer to pass-on to
anyone who might be interested in stopping by and/or a purchase of a gamble life-style.

Driving for about two hours, Mark found his other campsite I was confident he would recognize.
It is known as The Knob, an ester hill on the north side of the road, that is 4-wheel drive
recommended. As two years ago, the trailer was parked in the small turn-out across the ester,
in order to scale this rocky but do-able climb in "M."

There was a simpler, previous beautiful viewpoint turn-out, I would have been more than
satisfied with, but once on top of this knoll, getting out, the panoramic view of the Alaskan
Range was a breath-taker. Because of a fire in Healy, right above the park (Carol from Gracious
House informed us), the glaciers and peaks were misted in light brown smoke, but it is still is a
stunner. At 2, more thunder and lightning, as has been the pattern on this highway, but then a
thick white screen made the ranges invisible, and cycles of more thunder, lightning and 16 MPH
winds have continued still, at 9:45 p.m. A couple hours ago, sitting after dinner, there was a too
close shock of light, and at one thousand count, the loudest clap of thunder right above us,
made me automatically lift my stockinged feet up and pull both arms in, into a fetal position. I
felt better knowing Mark was also afraid. It took us both some time to stop vibrating.

I asked him what could be the worse thing that could happen in a storm like this, and he shared
that we would just blow up, probably from the gas tank, and we wouldn't even know it,
laughingly. Thank God, the next round moved far enough away from us wee beings, to feel
slower heartbeats again. We got out a bit ago, needing to walk, using checking on the trailer
down the hill, as an excuse. We've been use to our evening walks, and felt refreshed by the
light rain and reassured that the roads were not bogs. It has been a cozy, boat-like experience
watching, experiencing this amazing storm over this as-far-as-the-eye-can-see wild mecca.